Chapter 3: In Touch with the Past

Kylie McAdam was pacing up and down in her parents' living room, fighting the overwhelming urge to go out to find some bar and to get the drink she so desperately needed. It had been over two weeks since her last glass of Champagne and even a day longer since her last shot of Vodka, her favorite in the last year. Sure enough there was not a drop of alcohol in the house; her father had seen to that.

She looked at her wristwatch. It was not even ten a.m. and her mother would not be back from the hospital before one. Kylie had wanted to come along but her mother refused. She had cleaned the kitchen, she had changed the bed linens, she had vacuumed the carpets. Now there was NOTHING LEFT TO DO!

The Devil finds work for idle hands. The saying went through her mind while at the same time her lips seemed to taste the Vodka already. FUCK! What could she do? She had to get out of the house. Running? That's what she could do. Just run in the summer sun and sweat out the bad thoughts. In less than ten minutes she was ready. Those running shoes had not seen action in six years and the shorts were old and hopelessly unfashionable, but what did she care? She knew better than to run towards the town center. There was a liquor store on High Street and the Devil lurked there. She ran the other way, out of town. She had not run in years and her body was not used to exercise anymore. Soon her sides started to ache but the pain was feeling good. She deserved to hurt. She did not stop, she just kept running uphill, her heart pumping madly and her vision blurry. Just a few more yards, just one more bend in the road.

She hadn't even noticed that she was lying on the tarmac until hands gripped her to turn her over.

"Ma'am, are you hurt? Do you need ... Oh fuck!"

Kylie opened her eyes. Looking up, there was Cliff's face floating in the air above her.

"Hey, Cliff, I was running."

"HQ, this is Cliff. I need an ambulance on the Missoula Highway three miles out from town, near the old mine. Got a collapsed jogger here; she coming 'round, though. – Hard to say, maybe too much running, maybe booze. – Okay, if you say so – Great, just great. I'll run her down to the hospital. Over and out."

Cliff's face looked down. "Can you stand up?"

With his help, she could. Once again she sat in his cruiser on the way to the hospital.

"What were you doing running around out here?"

His question almost startled her. "I was running."

"Duh! But why?"

"Don't know. I had to get out." Kylie inhaled and exhaled, trying to clear her woozy head. "I was getting stir crazy at home. Nothing to do. I knew if I stayed just a minute longer I'd go to town and find booze."

"Liquor store got warned against selling you booze," he said.

She looked at him but he stared ahead concentrating on driving the car.

"You don't know what I'm talking about. I would have found stuff."

"So, you went running instead."

"Yeah." She stretched her legs and emitted a groan. "I'm gonna be sorry for that."

"Maybe you should join a health club once you're back in L.A."

"Maybe, yeah. I need something to do now, but there's only so many rooms I can clean in the house."

"So, you're the great musician. Why don't you sit and compose stuff?"

She snorted derisively. "Yeah, right. I've tried that and stopped years ago. No, I'm just a pretty mouthpiece for the real artists."

They had to stop at a traffic light and for the first time since he had started the car he looked at her.

"Maybe you had nothing to say back then. What's a nineteen year-old got to say?"

She stared at him. She had not thought about that. A thought popped into her head.

"I sang Sky Below Us at the reunion."

"Yeah, Peter told me. Said you were rusty as hell."

"He did, huh? You know I'm not allowed to accompany myself? It's in my contract. Fucking trap!"

"I don't think they have spies in your father's house. And here we are."

They were driving up to the ER but suddenly Kylie remembered that her mother was in the hospital somewhere.

"Listen, Cliff, I feel all right again. Honestly. Can you just drive me home? I'll drink lots of tea and lie down."

He shook his head. "Kylie, you had blue lips up there on the mountain. You've got to have things checked out."

She sighed. "My Mom is at the hospital today. I don't want her to see me. She'll be worried."

"And she'll be right devastated when she finds you dead with a cardiac arrest, don't you think?"

"Okay, all right, you win, as always."

The last two words conveyed the bitterness she felt, the feeling of inadequacy around Cliff. He was following his course whatever it took while her own life was derailing.

"How come I don't feel like a winner? Especially when looking at you?"

"Oh, come on! You're heading for law school. You're working a steady job. Everybody likes you, everybody thinks well of you."

"Yeah, and everybody remembers me as the guy whose girlfriend showed her crotch to the world after fucking a sleaze bag old enough to be her grandfather."

"Well, that didn't reflect on you, did it?"

"Damn right, it did! All the 'I'm-so-sorry' remarks with the barely hidden smirks. I didn't return to Clearwater for two years and guess why? Because I could see the scorn in everybody's eyes. Getting dumped is bad enough but try being shown up as a cuckold on national TV."

"Cliff, I was drunk and flying high on pills. I didn't plan it that way. I went a little crazy after the win and things just mushroomed."

"Don't give me that crap! You didn't call me back once in the week before the final. You used me one last time to present that cute co-ed image for the semis, and then you dumped me. And because I didn't jump through your hoops on that last weekend you made it hurt."

"No, I was a little mad at you because you just left L.A. without even seeing me. That last week was crazy and I didn't want a fight with you on top of everything. I figured I'd return after the finals and we'd talk and make up again. I didn't think I'd win and I didn't deserve to win. That guy, Roger Burton, was so much better."

Cliff laughed harshly. "Yeah, but I guess Don Brentano isn't into fucking guys."

Kylie blew up. "That's what you think of me? That I let him fuck me to win?"

"No, I'm saying he let you win so you'd let him fuck you."

They were standing in front of the ER now and Cliff shut down the engine. Kylie had closed her eyes and tears were leaking from under the lids.

"I guess you're right. You know, he was doing it the next year too. I saw my successor. She was primed already, strung out, dead tired, and running on fumes, and he gave her Champagne to drink. Only, she got pregnant and he had to marry her to hush things up."

"I read about that. That's when I figured how it happened. Yet, being drunk doesn't excuse everything or we'd have to release your boyfriend Hugh."

"Cliff, if you're trying to make me feel guilty, save your breath. I couldn't feel more shitty if I tried. Listen, thanks for picking me up out there. I mean it. And thanks for venting a bit of your anger. If it consoles you, feeling betrayed is bad but knowing that you've hurt everybody you ever loved..."

She did not finish. Instead she opened the door and stepped out. Cliff followed suite and escorted her to the ER. He told the admission nurse how he had found Kylie and what she had looked like. She was led into a waiting room but she turned around.

"Can you call my father? I don't have anything with me."

Cliff turned to the nurse. "Give me a call when she's done, will you?"

"Sure thing, Cliff," the nurse beamed back. "Will you come to the Barn on Saturday?"

"Maybe. I can't say for sure but if I make it I'll owe you a dance."

"Oh, be still, my beating heart!" the nurse exclaimed laughingly. "Now shoo! We'll look after our superstar just fine."