“Didn’t have you down as a Patsy Cline fan, buddy,” he said almost to himself.
A folder titled “WIP” caught his eye. WIP? Work In Progress? Sure enough, when Jake opened it, he found a veritable treasure trove of sub-folders. In amongst them sat one random word document. The name on it brought him up short. It was labelled “Jake”.
His hand was trembling on the mouse pad as he double-clicked to open the document.
Jake, I’m guessing if you’re reading this, I’m long gone from this fucking hell hole of a world. Sorry if I landed a load of shit on you and the others. I just couldn’t keep going. Couldn’t do it anymore. I almost came back to the house to say a proper goodbye to you when I left Melody’s party but if I had you might have been suspicious and stopped me leaving.
I had to go.
I’m writing this in the parking lot at the National Park in Gatlinburg. There isn’t much time if I want to make it up to the lookout by sunset.
I’ll keep it brief.
Do the workshop at the school for me. Those kids deserve it. You’ll figure out what to do with them. You’re a fantastic teacher and have a natural rapport with those young people.
Keep the band going. Don’t stop because of my failings.
Tell Maria I’m sorry.
Tell Lori thank you for a wonderful last BBQ at the beach. You’re a lucky man. Look after her.
Keep the date out at JJL. Make the new record. Use what you can find on here to help.
I want you to look after my guitars for me. Give “Isabella” to Maria. Give my black SG to Todd. Keep my other ladies safe but play them now and again for me.
Time to go.
Rich
As he read the last lines, his vision blurred, tears filling his eyes. Right to the bitter end Rich had been planning and organising. No explanations, just instructions. Typically, Rich.
Wiping tears from his cheeks, Jake opened the first sub-folder - “Solos”. A list of music files popped up on the screen, each numbered and dated. Plugging the laptop into his small speaker, Jake selected the first file. Within seconds the basement was filled with the sound of Rich playing at his best.
Fresh tears flowed down Jake’s cheeks as he sat and listened, visualising his friend standing over in the corner near the foot of the stairs, lost in his musical soundscape.
The clock in the corner of the screen read 06:12 as Jake closed the last sub-folder. Emotionally, he was completely drained after listening to the treasure trove of new music Rich had left. There was more than enough there for two album’s worth of contribution. In among the folders there had been one titled “Lyrics”. Knowing it was rare for Rich to pen any lyrics, he had opened it expectantly. Inside there were only two-word documents – two sets of lyrics. None of the music that he had heard tied into the phrasing of the words but, as he read over the second set, a realisation struck him. The melody he had been playing with since Rich’s death fitted perfectly with it.
Stifling a yawn, Jake shut down the laptop and climbed the stairs back up to the house. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through from the kitchen and, as he headed in that direction, he heard Lori say, “Good morning.”
The voice came from behind him and he spun round surprised to see her seated at her drawing board so early.
“Mornin’, li’l lady,” he said as he wandered over to her workspace. “You’re up early.”
“And you’re up late,” she observed. “I was getting worried.”
“Sorry,” apologised Jake. “I managed to get into Rich’s laptop. I’ve been listening to his music files. There’s a ton of stuff on there. Solos. Melodies. Bridges. There’s even some lyrics.” He paused, “And a note to me. Reading that just about killed me. Typical Rich. Planning and organising to the very end.”
“A note?”
Jake nodded, “He’d typed it in the car in the parking lot in Gatlinburg. Must have been just before he set off for that final hike.”
“A cry for help?” asked Lori quietly.
“No,” answered Jake with a sad smile. “A list of instructions mainly. A few thank yous. His blessing to keep the band going. I’ll show you it later.”
“You better grab some sleep,” suggested Lori. “Your sister will be here at lunchtime.”
“Lucy?”
“Yes,” said Lori with a giggle. “She’s coming down for the week with the boys. Remember?”
“Shit. I’d forgotten,” confessed Jake with a yawn. “Waken me before she gets here.”
“She said they’d be here about two.”
“Plenty of time to grab some sleep.”
“Sweet dreams, rock star.”
Sunlight and laughter roused Jake from a deep, dreamless sleep. Rolling over onto his back, he listened as Lori and his sister chatted out in the hallway then heard the thunder of his nephews’ feet on the stairs leading up to the attic. After Jesse’s arrival, they had modified the attic space and added three bedrooms, a guest bathroom and an open plan seating area. In time, they envisaged Melody and Jesse using the space but, for now, it was perfect for house guests. With a smile, he thought how good it was to have a full house for a few days.
Having showered and thrown on his favourite cut off shorts and a vest tee, Jake wandered down the hallway, listening for sounds of life. The house was quiet but, as he approached the sunroom, he could hear voices echoing in from the deck.
“Afternoon,” he said warmly as he stepped out to join his family.
“Jake!” squealed Lucy excitedly, rushing over to hug her
