Chapter 19

The drive home after my audition was pure bliss. I had the windows down and the music cranked up, singing along at the top of my lungs. I still couldn’t believe how well it had gone, better than even my wildest dreams.

After I’d gotten off the stage, the producers had pulled me aside and walked me through what was going to happen next. There were more waivers, agreements, and NDAs I needed to sign before I could go on to the next step. I think I surprised them when I said I needed to get my manager and lawyer on a video chat, but they let me do it. I would have thought they would have dealt with this before, since they had contestants who’d previously had record deals, but maybe people were just so excited that they signed whatever was put in front of them.

Thankfully, the contract was pretty simple and mostly allowed them to rebroadcast anything done on camera. There were a few rights problems that Mr. Eaves flagged, making sure they couldn’t reuse any of my own original music without permission outside of replaying the actual video, but that got sorted pretty quickly.

If anything, the producers seemed as excited for me to be on the show as I was to be on it, and they kept saying yes to whatever Warren and Mr. Eaves asked for. Admittedly, they didn’t ask for anything extreme, but I took it as a sign of how well things were going to go.

The whole process gave me that same rush of excitement I felt when I first signed with MAC. After everything that had happened, it had been a long time since I felt this kind of joy about my music career. Once everything got signed, they told me they would send out details of the next phase of the show and tickets to California as we got closer to the date.

To say I was in a good mood would be an understatement. I was singing along with the radio and replaying the audition over and over in my head, trying to relive the moment, when my phone rang. My joy almost instantly vanished when I looked at the caller ID. It was Keenan, and his calls lately had only been bad news about Willie.

“Hey, Keenan,” I said, answering, trying to cling to a fragile hope that this was good news and Willie was being released from hospice.

“Hey, Charlie,” Keenan said, sounding exhausted. “The hospice finally approved non-family visitors for Willie. You need to get here as soon as you can. It doesn’t look like he has much time left.”

I felt my stomach drop. Even with my hopes that he’d make some kind of miraculous recovery, I’d known this day was coming. And I still wasn’t ready for it.

“How much time do I have? I’m driving back from Atlanta now; how late can I visit tonight?” I asked.

“Probably another hour or so,” Keenan replied. “I know it’s a long drive, but you should hurry. Willie’s awake right now and he’s been asking for you.”

I glanced at the GPS on my phone; I was just about an hour and a half away from Asheville.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” I promised.

“He doesn’t have long, Charlie, and he wants to see you one more time.”

“I’ll hurry, I promise,” I said and hung up.

I felt a knot in my stomach. My euphoric mood from earlier was gone, and all I could think of was what would happen if Willie passed and I didn’t get to see him. I don’t think I could live with that.

I pressed down on the gas pedal, increasing my speed and hoping a cop didn’t see me. It was worth a ticket though, if it got me to him in time.

An hour and seven minutes later, I pulled into the hospice parking lot, barely taking the time to put the car in park before I jumped out of the car. It had rained recently, and my sneakers skidded on the smooth concrete as I sprinted for the doors, almost sending me tumbling into the door before I righted myself.

The woman inside was staring at me as I came in, probably having seen me just about bust my ass outside the door.

“I’m here to see Willie Johnson,” I said breathlessly.

Her inquisitive look turned sad, “Of course. Let me page his nurse to come get you.”

She picked up the phone receiver, and I drummed my fingers impatiently on the countertop while I waited. I expected a nurse to come out. Instead, Keenan pushed through a set of doors by the reception desk.

“Hey, Charlie,” he said, reaching out and shaking my hand. “I’m glad you came. Come on.”

I followed him through the door and into a hallway that kind of looked like a hospital but was warmer and less impersonally sterile.

“You should be prepared for what he looks like. He’s lost weight, and ... well, he’s weak.”

“Is he really that close?” I asked.

“I’m afraid so. He’s been holding on, but just barely. He signed a DNR, which means when his body does give, out he’s asked the doctors not to try and resuscitate him.”

“Ohh,” I said. “I ... I didn’t realize that.”

“He’s made his peace, and he’s ready to move on. The cancer has spread throughout his body. It’s all they can do to keep his pain under control. It’s taking a lot for him to keep fighting, and I think he’s just tired.”

“Yeah,” I said.

Keenan stopped in front of a door, his hand pausing on the door. Seeing his hesitancy, even though he’d been with Willie the whole time, made me brace myself. If he was upset about what Willie looked like after seeing him every day, then I knew it was going to be bad.

The first thing I noticed was the steady beeping of monitors. Then I saw Willie. He looked small and frail against the hospital bed, his body wasted away to practically nothing. His skin seemed to hang off his bones. Even with the machines, that seemed to indicate he was still alive, I thought for a moment I might be too late. Then he opened his eyes, and gave me a weak smile.

“Charlie,” he rasped, lifting one skeletal hand to wave me over. “You made it.”

“Of course I made it,” I said, dragging a chair over next to him. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

“How did it go?” he asked.

It was just like Willie, even now, to ask about me first.

“It went really well,” I said, taking his frail hand in mine. “I made it through to the next round. You would have loved it.”

“I’m so proud of you, boy,” he said, a weak smile creeping onto his face. “You’re a good kid, Charlie, and you’re going to go far with your music.”

“I owe it all to you,” I said.

He opened his mouth, coughed twice, and said, “Nonsense. You’ve always had it in you. I just nudged you along a bit.”

His eyes closed for a moment and I just sat there, holding his hand until he opened his eyes again. Keenan was right. I could see that he was starting to let go, like he’d been kept alive by sheer willpower, and he decided he didn’t want to keep it up anymore.

When he opened his eyes again, I said, “Willie ... you know I love you, right? I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me.”

I knew if I didn’t say it, I wouldn’t have another chance, and I wanted him to know how much he meant to me before he went. I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

“None of that now,” he admonished gently. “It’s my time, Charlie. The good Lord is calling me home. No need for sadness. I’ve had a good long run, and I wouldn’t trade ‘em for nothing.”

I sniffed and nodded, not trusting my voice enough to respond.

“When I’m gone, I don’t want you mopin’ around. I want you celebratin’ the time we’ve shared. Focus on the good memories we made. Keep that music alive inside you, you hear?”

Willie sighed and sank back into his pillow, “And I love you, too. I never got around to havin’ children, so I think the good Lord sent me you so that I would know what it might be like for these last years. And I couldn’t have asked for a better choice. You’ve been good to me, comin’ to see me every day. I can’t tell you how much that’s meant to an old man like me.”