Symphony #3
It Only Gets Better From Here
by
Robby Richardson
Act #1
The Birth of Nicole Rodriguez
“Carl...Carl...CARL,” came a booming voice from the upstairs kitchen. It was the voice from his “adoring” wife. The clunking of feet could be heard as Carl ran up the stairs. Almost out of breath, he gave a soft “yes...sweetie?” “Don't sweetie me have you seen these bills?” Married young had taken his toll only twenty nine and had been married for several years already. However, the “sunshine and rainbows” faze had long past. It seemed to all go downhill when his writing career took a nose dive. His last four books were panned and had gotten him dropped from three different literary companies. He was labeled “finished” and companies did not want to take on the financial responsibility. Carl was raised a fighter though. His mother had fought cancer for many years until she passed last spring. His father on the other hand killed himself due to near crippling depression. Over the last year his image had seemed to suffer too. His once golden blonde hair had now turned to a darker shade of brown. His once chiseled cheeks were now slightly pudgy. Blue eyes that his wife used to say were like two small droplets of water had lost their glimmer over time. His wife had become even colder towards him when his last book failed to bring in a single mortgage payment.
“Yes, I have seen them.” “And you just left them here on the table? You just expect me to whip the money out of my ass and...” Carl gave a quick, “no, I don't expect that! I just had an amazing idea, and I needed to start writing it before I forgot.” “OH, please Carl your ideas are as welcome in this world as these bills are to this house!” Carl shook his head, “you don't understand. This book is it! This is the one! This is the one that will make all this seem like a...” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what you said about the last three. My god can't you take the hint! You're washed up...a has been...look at this!” He watched his wife make her way to the table. She tied her red hair back in a ponytail. A scorned dagger like stare stretching the freckles on her once angelic face. However, the only thing Carl saw now was frustration and dislike.
“Look,” she threw a letter at him and continued, “that’s from the electric company!” Carl didn't open it, “it will get paid don't worry.” “THEY ARE CUTTING OFF OUR POWER!” She screamed so loud that the walls trembled. “If we don't pay this next bill, they’re going to shut off the power.” “I understand Tiffany, but you don't understand...” She immediately cut him off as her face was turning as red as her hair. “How are you going to write your book without electricity?” Carl tried to find his anger, but something deep down was holding it down. The blame of their financial woes was something deep down he knew was his fault. “I'll be done with it by then. Tiffany, I SWEAR this book is it! It's about a girl named Nicole, and her husband is cheating on her with...” “I don't care Carl! I have been telling you over and over that you need to find a job...a REAL job with REAL money!” “Well, you didn't care before when the money was rolling in from my first books.” “No, I wasn't but those days are gone! I have to think about today Carl! You need to find a job and find it NOW! I am not working two jobs, so you can sit on your ass here and do nothing!”
[Tiffany]
Bills, bills, we need to pay bills
Your career is at a standstill and you're writing is over the hill.
You're washed up...sandy shores with palm trees filled with bill collectors and late fees.
Grapes on the vine, smashed in time...rotten in life's sunshine
Bills, bills, we need to pay bills!
You're concern for us is lacking you say greatness is going to happen
I'm sick of your lies while I work my feet on the grind
A marriage reading WASTE OF TIME...I'm thinking of a better life
A life so true no work to do, a life wasted...wasted on you
So get a job you lazy slob don't sit there and nod or you're out so help me God
Bills, bills, we need to pay bills!
You have nobody but me above or below is where your family be
No money no more this is the one hunny
Find a job, find it now, this cash cow vows now
No job one-week new home the street
So...pay...the...bills
She gritted her teeth in anger and gave one final glare, “find a job NOW!” With that she turned and left the kitchen. Carl didn't seem able to move. It seemed his legs had rooted to the ground. He just turned to the kitchen table staring at the bills. His mind read the notices...Third Notice, Second Notice, and Utility Will Be Canceled. There didn't seem to be a bright spot in the pile. He stared around the room noticing that there didn't seem to be a bright spot in the room either. With a slinking head, he returned to the basement steps and descended them. Each step seemed to shake him to his very core. The guilt of everything seemed to weigh heavy on him. He made his way to the computer and sat with a sigh. He stared at several pages of his completed work. He read it over several times correcting the grammar. However, his mind seemed to read over the main characters description several times. Her name was Nicole Rodriguez, and he couldn't get past reading her description. He seemed to read it aloud unconsciously, “brown hair with highlights of red, blue, and purple that streaked into two ponytails. Her brown eyes melted a man's knees and her puffy cherry lips sent any man's heart to race.”
Carl leaned back in his chair watching her develop in his head. The story didn't seem to matter. He knew it was Nicole that was going to sell the book. His eyes closed as her body came to his mind. She had gorgeous skin tanned like fresh caramel. A white button up shirt tied underneath her voluptuous chest. He saw her legs as he seemed to fall deeper and deeper into his vision. She had a black mini-skirt with matching fish net stockings. “Should she have a nose ring?” He saw a small diamond appear on her nose, and it seemed to fit everything together.
“A nose ring,” Carl's eyes fluttered wildly as he shot up in his seat. “Are you serious Carl?” His wife was coming down the stairs towards him. “I was coming down here to apologize, and it seems that I have nothing to apologize for! You're sitting down here sleeping and worrying if a girl should have a nose ring? What the hell does that have to do with the story?” “Tiffany it's called character development. You know characters need an identity.” “And hers will be based on a nose ring?” Carl immediately shook his head, “no it was just an added perk.”
His wife’s eyes narrowed as she stared down at him. “Well, it certainly added some perk!” Carl stared down at his lap and was shocked to find out how excited he had become. His wife's eyes narrowed again as silence fell between them. He couldn't speak as his mouth seemed to be filled with peanut butter. “You know what Carl you can just stay down here the rest of the night! I don't want to see you!” She turned back to the stairs as she gave one final disgusted look, “You're a pig.” With those final words, she ascended the stairs and left him alone.
Running his hand through his hair he gave a soft, “Jesus Christ that has never happened before.” Carl gave a little smile and said, “ah well at least she’ll be outta my hair.” Carl turned to his computer screen and stared at the words. His last sentence remained unfinished. It seemed to hang there like a water droplet on a leaf. He stared at it reading it over several times. His eyes wandered up to Nicole's description again and read it aloud, “brown hair with highlights of red, blue, and purple that streaked into two ponytails. Her brown eyes melted a man's knees and her puffy cherry lips sent any man's heart to race.” His head tilted back, “god that sounds hot!”
RING...RING...Carl's imagination popped like a balloon as he turned to his cell phone. It vibrated wildly on his desk reading on the front, Sam O'Neil. “Holy shit,” reaching over Carl gripped the phone and opened it with an enthusiastic, “Hey Sam!” Sam gave an over enthusiastic, “HEY Carl how's my favorite author!” “Favorite author,” Carl repeated trying to hide his sarcasm. “I have been trying to get a hold of you all day Sam! You're my literary agent how can I...” “I know Carl I know. I have been busy. I got back to you as soon as I could.” “You mean that you were working with your other clients?” He could almost envision Sam smiling on the other end of the phone. “Well, you aren't my only client Carl.” “Yeah well when I was hauling in the money for you, I was your ONLY client.” “I’m sorry you feel that way Carl. Although with your books not selling I've had to outsource my skills to other reps...” “Well Sam I can confidently tell you that I’m writing the next masterpiece. This will make up for everything.” A sigh could be heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry Carl, but you said that about your last three books. Need I remind you they were panned and...” “Sam, I know! I'm telling you this one is different!” “It's always different...every book is always different.” “Please Sam listen I'm going to send you the first couple chapters just read them please...”
Sam groaned slightly, “well can you tell me what the story is about?” Carl leaned forward in his chair trying to contain his excitement. “Well, it's about these two best friends and their spouses are having an affair with each other. So, the girl is the main character and the story revolves around her...” “Well, why don't you send me the first couple chapters. I can see if I can move it up the ladder.” “Thank you, Sam thank you,” “listen Carl there’s something I need to tell you though. If this book doesn't get picked up, I'm afraid that I’m going to have to drop you as a client...” “What the hell Sam drop me as a client after all the money I had made...” “That's the point Carl HAD made! You're a liability, and I am afraid that I can't...” “Yes, yes Sam I see where I stand but believe me it won't come to that.” Another sigh could be heard as Sam gave a soft, “well we'll see Carl. I’m sorry it has come to this.”
Carl hung up the phone with an angry scowl. His words seemed to fail him as he stared at the phone. “You'll see,” he said loudly. He shot up from his office chair and said even louder. “You'll see Sam,” and then pointed wildly over the room, “they'll all see!” He grunted a bit before pacing back and forth. The anger seemed to rush into him and boil the acid in his stomach. “I'll show them! They'll all be begging for apologizes!” Soon the pacing didn't seem to curb his anger and then the swearing took over. It was at that point he kicked the couch in a rage. He needed to get out of the house. Growling loudly one more time, he saved the book and rushed up the stairs. He needed to get out and get away for a moment. He had no idea when he would be back. His car flew out of the driveway and sped into the night. The only mark he left was the tire tracks in the street.
Trees zoomed by his windows as the small suburban community disappeared. Carl had no idea where he was or going. He watched the street lights fade in the distance. They were soon quickly replaced with endless stretches of corn. Soon the corn was replaced with trees again. The dense forest seemed to swallow up his tiny car. The engine roared as he seemed to drive faster. The darkness was so thick that his lights were barely able to penetrate it. “Who the hell do they think they are?” His shouting and swearing were his only source of entertainment. Sam didn't believe in him and that seemed to crush his spirit. However, his wife no longer believed in him and that crushed his heart. His hands gripped the wheel tighter. He wished that he had someone to talk to. Someone that he could vent to. Someone who would offer a sympathetic ear. His mind wandered and soon it landed on his character Nicole. “Nicole wouldn't be like that.” His voice seemed sketchy but grew stronger with each turn of the road. “Yeah, Nicole is loyal to her man...loyal to love. Nicole would be your typical partner in crime.”
His mind began to dwell over her body. Her hips waving slightly blowing her black mini-skirt up a bit. “Yeah, Nicole always stands by her man. She is the sweetest girl and wild...like a sexy wild! A girl with a troubled past, but still looking for that small thrill. Maybe a former addict...cocaine...Oxycontin...for sure gambling.” The road turned again, and he zoomed around it. His eyes seemed to zone out as he pictured her in his passenger seat. She would be out the window hollering, “faster Carl!” For a brief second, Carl actually smiled. He shook his head and turned back to the road. “HOLY SHIT,” he screamed loudly plowing into a deer that had wandered into the road. He swerved wildly as the car spun...BANG! The side of his car slammed into a tree making him spin again. He crashed front first into another tree. Bouncing off he tumbled down the side of a hill several times before coming to a halt upside down.
(Three Days Later, 2:30 pm)
“Carl...Carl, please come back to me,” feeling his eyes twitch open he found a bright light blinding him. He held up his hand as he gave a slight groan. Pain was shooting up his body as his eyes adjusted to the light. “Where...where...am I?” His voice sounded horse and broken. “Carl, it's me Tiffany...Carl,” he turned to see his wife sitting by his side. She was in a worn green coat and looked like she had not showered for days. Her hair was greasy and tied into a bun. She smiled when she saw him, “hey baby.” Her words were soft and sincere. He saw that she had tears in them. “What...” she grabbed his hand. “You were in an accident on the Route 12...” “Accident...what do you mean accident Tiffany?” “You totaled your car and fell down a hill. You were out there for hours in the cold.” Carl tried to raise himself up, but his wife pushed him down “no, no don't get up!” Carl winced at the pain. “So, how long have I been out?” She shook her head, “I don't know I lost count...um, like three days I think?” “Three days,” he repeated unable to believe it.
He sunk deeper into his gurney bed as the doctor walked into the room. Carl didn't even notice. He just kept repeating, “three days...three days.” The doctor kept repeating the words, “lucky to be alive…several broken ribs…fractured ankle…ruptured spleen.” It seemed that Carl had already gone through surgery. He seemed to daze in and out of the conversation as the reality of the situation seemed to wash over him. He shook the doctor's hand never really getting his name or image. Turning back to his wife, he gave a soft, “so how long do I have to be here?” He saw Tiffany give a small frown, “well the doctor just said another day. I'll take you home tomorrow.” He nodded and returned to the ceiling. “What am I supposed to do until then?” Tiffany gave a loud sniff wiping her nose. “We can watch TV if you like?” Carl turned his head and mumbled, “I don't want to watch TV.” He stared at the wall hearing his wife sobbing slightly as her hand gripped his tenderly.
“Hey,” he said turning back to his wife, “did Sam call you...or call me?” “Carl you were just in a horrible accident. I don't think you should worry about Sam or...” “Did he call yes or no?” Tiffany nodded, “I told him about the accident.” “He didn't say anything?” Tiffany shook her head as Carl turned his head, “damn,” he whispered. “Look Carl don't worry about it just rest and get better. We'll figure out how to pay for all this later. When you're better you can get a job like we planned and...” “Like YOU planned,” Tiffany froze slightly as her hand released from his. “What does that mean,” she said trying to hide the disdain in her voice. “Well, if we're being honest it's not what I planned it's what you planned.” “Carl we both agreed that the best thing for us was for you to get a job.” “I have a job Tiffany! What don't you understand about that?” Tiffany pushed back her chair, “I know that you're upset right now, but please don't lash out at me! I'm trying to be supportive.” Carl turned back to her, “supportive...supportive! I am a writer Tiffany! I write books and create stories. You want me to work at some fast food restaurant just because I have hit a rough patch. Supportive...supportive...I don't think you even know the meaning of the word do you? Asking me not to be a writer is like asking a bird not to fly...and I'm gunna fly Tiffany!”
[Carl]
I'm gunna fly, fly, fly...I'm gunna fly so high...I'm gunna fly
So high in the sky...I'm gunna fly
Asking me not to write is like asking a boxer not to fight
Asking me not to write is like asking a fire not to shed light
Asking me not to write is like agreeing that wrong is right
Up is down, black is white, wet is cold
I am a writer and my stories must be told
One voice I have to share…a story, but all you want is the glory
The riches and flair...asking me not to write is a burden I cannot bare
It's like a melody with no song, a bird in winter when others are gone
I'm gunna fly, fly, fly...I'm gunna fly so high...I'm gunna fly
So high in the sky...I'm gunna fly
[Tiffany]
We can't live a life on probability, man up...face your responsibilities
I'm not saying you can't write, stop being snotty writing can just be a hobby
I'm not saying you can't fly correction just to fly...a different direction
You're high in space with the stories you research, I'm grounded with realities stuck here on Earth
Like the singer who knows when the curtain calls, their time is finished when the curtain falls
You had your time, you had your fun, but now it's time to hang it up...done
So, if you wanna fly, fly high for all to see, you're going to have to do it without me
And without me you'll find no rest like a bird without a nest
“Carl, I don't want to fight with you. I know you're upset from the crash, and I'm trying to be here for you.” Carl turned from her and faced the opposite wall again, “why don't you just go home.” He heard her voice crack slightly as she sniffled a bit, “ple...please...don't...be...ma...mad.” “Just go Tiffany,” “Carl please I just want what's best for us.” “No Tiffany you just want what's best for you! Now go...GO!” Tiffany sniffed one more time and turned from him leaving him alone in the room. A sickening feeling seemed to overwhelm him as he heard his wife crying down the hallway. He could feel the guilt thickening inside of him like oatmeal. He felt his mouth open but no sound came out. He knew his wife had gone, but he sulked returning his head deeper into the pillow.
“Good Afternoon Mr. Freetly, how’re we feeling this afternoon,” Carl didn't even gaze at the nurse as he muttered, “just peachy.” He heard the nurse walking over to the gurney bed. “Your wife said that you were still in much pain, is that true?” “Yeah,” Carl replied dryly. However, the pain that he felt in his body did not compare to the pain in his heart. Sure, he and his wife had hit a rougher patch than normal, but could they last? “Well, Dr. Blickle said to give you some Tramadol and hopefully that will help you with the pain. He said that you’re lucky to be alive.” “Wonderful,” he replied again dryly. “I also wanted to tell you that you have another visitor outside. I think his name is Sam. Is it alright if I tell him to come in?” “Yes,” Carl said without ever turning around. He heard the nurse shuffling outside the door. He was once again left alone with his thoughts. The more he thought about his wife, the more Nicole kept appearing in his head. It was almost humorous. She seemed to replace his wife almost pushing her to the side.
“Hey Carl,” Carl turned over to see his literary agent standing in the doorway. A slightly overweight man in brown dockers and a black POLO shirt. He had brown hair parted to the side and came towards him. Sam seemed unable to speak as he took the seat his wife had previously sat in. “I am so sorry about what happened to you! How are you feeling?” “How am I feeling,” Carl asked sensing the rudeness in his own voice. “Sorry stupid question...look Carl, I hope that there’s no hard feelings between us. I have a job to do and in the end...” “No hard feelings, are you serious? You told me that this next book was all or nothing.” Sam leaned back in his chair, “that's not fair Carl! We put out many books together, and now they’re just aren't selling.” “Aren't selling, you're throwing me away like a discarded...why are you even here?” Sam's face loosened, “I felt guilty about the way we left things. I wanted to make sure that you were well. I wanted to know if I was the reason for your accident.” “Oh, to ease your conscious huh?” Sam rubbed his neck nervously, “look Carl I know you think that I am your enemy, but I am not. If a product isn't selling you discontinue it...it's Business 101. It was never anything personal. I have bosses just like you have bosses. Hey look, I snuck something in for you.”
Sam gazed out the door and then pulled out a pint size battle of brandy. “It's Thompson's Brandy you're favorite right?” “Sam I'm in a hospital I can't...” Waving his hand, “come on Carl let's bury the hatchet for old times’ sake what do you say?” Opening up the top, he handed the pint to Carl who eyed it suspiciously. Sam smiled and raised it, “to your health,” and took a shot. He grimaced slightly, “I fucking hate brandy!” Handing the pint to Carl, who toasted it towards Sam and then took a swing. He pulled it back, “god that hits the spot.” Sam smiled, “I told you! Listen Carl about this new book I promise you that I’ll personally pass it up the ladder. However, I can't guarantee that it will get published.” Carl took another swig, “I just don't want any animosity between us Carl.” He shook his head as the brandy washed down like water. “I'll have the first couple chapters edited in two days.” Sam gave a soft, “don't rush yourself. I don't want you...” Carl waved his hand, “the story is so good that it needs to be told.” Handing him the pint of brandy back, Sam nodded patting Carl's hand “I'll be looking forward to it. I haven't seen this much passion from you in a long time.” Sam waved farewell before exiting the room.
Leaning back onto his pillow Carl returned to the ceiling. “He'll see,” he said as he started to count the cracks. “They'll all see when I am done. They'll all beg for my forgiveness.” He smiled seeing his wife on her knees pleading with him, “please forgive me baby! I should have never doubted you.” He felt a boiling anger inside of him beginning to rise. The picture was replaced by an image of a news reporter interviewing her. Her words seemed to echo in the make believe dream, “I always believed in him. I always knew that he was great. I always knew he could do it.” “Bleck,” he said turning over and starting to feel a warming sensation fill his body. The clock on the wall seemed to be laughing at him staying continuously at six o'clock. He gazed towards some cards and flowers on the table nearby. A teddy bear sat holding a heart reading, I Love You. His family had all passed on, so the bear had to be from his wife. He stared at its black eyes and then he read the words again, I Love You. It was at that moment that he wished Nicole was real, and that the bear was from her.