A Ballad For Beulah

As soon as the guys' new album, American Idiot, hit stores, there was an unspoken agreement between all three of them that this was, without question, their most quality piece of work to date.

And to think it all came about because the album they'd more or less finished had its master tape stolen.

It was also a time for the three of them to reflect on how far they'd come from 924 Gilman Street, and how they'd grown as musicians and men.

They were no longer streetwise teens from the East Bay, living hand to mouth. Now they'd become worldly men, still from the East Bay, who were seasoned rock stars, with families they'd built to share all the fruits of their labor.

The whirlwind of events that followed the release of American Idiot took them to several countries all in the matter of a month. And then they lined up several tour dates, which took them all over the US and overseas. It was the beginning of a nonstop adventure.

And it gave Mike the time to not focus on his divorce from Sarah that was already finalized, while Tre seemed to be happily single and Billie Joe was happily married. In fact, his marriage seemed more solid than ever.

Probably because he refrained from talking about Beulah and Bailey with Mike anymore.

It was almost as if, that by not talking about them, they ceased to exist. And what is out of sight, is out of mind. The guilt for the lead singer was easier to bare. To almost forget about. Though, not really.

Billie Joe called Beulah early on Halloween from Washington, DC where the band was playing a concert at the Patriot Center. He inquired as to whether or not she was taking their son out Trick-or-Treating, while bringing up the memory of them Trick-or-Treating that one year when Tom and the guys scared the shit out of her and Elliot copped an attitude.

After reminiscing for a little bit, he got to the main point of his phone call, which partly involved apologizing for not be able, at all, to visit. But he called to inform her that the guys would be in Vegas for about a week in December, around Tre's birthday, because they were playing a show on the 7th at The Joint, which was located in the Hard Rock.

Her anticipation level was raised a few notches.

Billie Joe would finally be back in the Vegas area since March of that year. She was fearing that her son, being that he was still so young, was slowly starting to forget who his father was. She had to turn on the TV in hopes that one of the music videos from the guys would be on MTV for him to see, she put pictures of Billie Joe up in his bedroom, and tried mentioning him at least once a day.

But it wasn't the same as Bailey having no decent contact with his daddy.

And then, December finally arrived.

Beulah was feeling slightly anxious the day of the 7th because she knew the guys were in town, but she didn't receive a call from Billie Joe to let her know when during the week he was going to stop by.

And then, the following night, she turned on the television and flipped channels until she landed on the Billboard Music Awards and her heart stopped.

She saw Billie Joe sitting in the audience.

And Adrienne was with him.

There would be no logical way for him to visit without Adrienne knowing, and it tore at her heart. She just couldn't let it sink in, so she turned the television off and sat in Bailey's room, watching him sleep while trying to muffle her crying as best as possible, but not succeeding very well.

"Mommy?"

Wiping her tears and stifling her small sobs, she looked up and forced a smile. "I'm sorry, honey. Go back to sleep."

"Why're you sad, mommy?"

"Mommy just...mommy kinda misses daddy."

Bailey rolled onto his side in his little twin bed he now slept in and looked at his mother with the depth that Billie Joe did. "When's daddy comin' home?"

Beulah shrugged. "I dunno, sweetie. When he can," she replied. "He's trying his best, but his job keeps him very busy."

"I hate daddy," the little boy muttered suddenly, his features darkening as he pouted.

"What? Why do you hate your daddy?"

"'Cause he has a stupid job," was Bailey's response. "Can he work wit you at the rest'want in'tead, mommy?

Beulah shook her head. "It doesn't work like that, honey. I can't make Daddy change his job. He...he loves his job."

"Does he wuv his job more 'an me?"

Her heart breaking with her son's question, Beulah began to adamantly shake her head. "Of course not, Bailey. He loves you more than anything."

"Does daddy wuv you, mommy?"

"Uh...yeah. Of course he does."

I'd like to assume he does, she thought.

"Why are you sad when he goes away?"

"'Cause mommy misses him," Beulah answered, simply.

"Does he miss you?"

"Yes," she replied, hoping that would keep him from asking more questions. "Honey, it's late. Go sleepy now, okay? Mommy just wanted to see that you were sleeping nicely. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Bailey just looked up at his mother and nestled a little more deeper underneath his blanket, and placing his thumb to his mouth. Leaning forward, Beulah placed a kiss on her son's nose and ran a hand through his hair which was getting darker and more wavy these days rather than curly.

"Goodnight, sweetie."

"Night, mommy."

* * *

Three days later, a Saturday, there was a knock on the apartment door, and something in Beulah told her that it was Billie Joe.

And she was right.

"Nice of you to call ahead of time," she muttered as she stepped away from the door, not even bothering to gesture for him to come in.

He simply walk in on his own and shut the door.

"Sorry," he muttered. "But I couldn't really pull it off."

"Naw, shit. I caught the Billboard Awards, briefly. I saw Adrienne with you in the crowd," she told him. "You don't have to make an excuse for that. I understand. But tell me one thing..."

Billie Joe winced when he saw the anger flashing in her eyes. "Uh...okay."

"Tell me how your son thinks you don't love him!" she bit out.

"What?"

"Oh, yeah. It's true. He asked me the other night if his daddy loved his job more than him. And you know what, Billie, I'm sick and tired of waiting for just a simple phone call. I can deal with you not being here in person because of what you do and because of your little legitimate family, but what I cannot accept is you not able to take five minutes out of your fucking day to call your fucking son to say, 'Hey, Bailey, it's daddy. I love you.'"

"Bee, you have no idea how difficult it is. I have been surrounded by so many people practically every hour of every...fucking day. I can't get any goddamn free time to myself," he threw back at her, not really caring too much for having to get into an argument with her as soon as he stepped through the door.

"Give me a break. You have the power to tell these people to give you five minutes to yourself. And you've been touring lately, which means just you and the guys are on a bus, traveling from city to city. You're not traveling with 15 people. Just three. One of which knows all about Bailey and me. So don't give me your excuses."

"Bee---"

"No, don't. Don't you try and rationalize this. I'm tired of being so quiet and accepting of you being such a dick these past couple of years. Because the way things are going, I'd much rather Bailey didn't know you at all."

"But then I'd never see him."

"Well, you'd pretty much have the same relationship that you have with him now, wouldn't you?"

"Don't even joke," he warned.

"Billie Joe, you need to start being a daddy," she said; desperation in her voice. "Please. Just take a shit already or get off the fucking pot."

Looking Beulah in the eyes, the guitarist's expression became quite stern as his stance unwavering.

"Where's Bailey right now?"

"In his room, taking a nap."

Billie Joe's eyes loitered toward the direction of his son's bedroom. And, without a word to Beulah, he headed in that direction.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a fucking shit," he grumbled.

Walking down the small hallway, he pushed Bailey's bedroom door open and stepped over to the small bed, crouching down. Beulah appeared in the doorway, watching as Billie Joe nudged Bailey gently and how he stirred awake.

And how his little green eyes widened and a big grin spread across his face.

"Daddy!" he squealed, sitting up.

"Hey, buddy," Billie Joe offered his son a smile as he hugged him. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, daddy," Bailey replied as his short arms remained wrapped around Billie Joe's neck.

Standing up, the green-eyed punk rocker lifted his son up with him, holding him in his arms and hugging him tightly. Placing a kiss on the boy's cheek, Billie Joe smirked.

"You wanna spend the day with me?"

"Yeah," Bailey nodded. "You gonna stay for a long time?"

"Long as I can."

"Billie---" Beulah began to speak up.

"What, Bee? You got a problem with me wanting to spend time with my son? You wanna tell him that? Go on. Do it," Billie Joe egged on.

Her backbone slightly breaking, Beulah shook her head. "Of course I want him to spend time with you. As long as I don't have to hear him asking me questions about how you feel anymore."

"Fine," Billie Joe snipped as he walked past her with their son.

She turned and followed after him.

"Where are you going with him?" she asked a little nervously.

Billie Joe shrugged. "To a park. Maybe out for some ice cream and take him to the toy store. You know, a little guilt shopping as you like to call it."

Her chin quivering with the anger he directed at her, it was almost hard to believe she had been just as angry at him only minutes before. Now, she was more like a wet noodle.

Damn him for making her feel like that.

And damn him for still being her fucking kryptonite.

She watched on as Billie Joe helped put Bailey's shoes on and pick him back up.

"Do you wanna borrow my car?" she offered, as if catering to his every whim. "I'd rather you took my car than took a cab."

"Sure," Billie Joe muttered.

With slumped shoulders, Beulah grabbed up her purse and pulled her car keys out, handing them over to Billie Joe, who took them without another word.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Few hours. Most of the day," he replied. "Don't worry. I won't run away with him."

"I know you won't. How would you explain it to Adrienne?"

"Who's Ade'wienne?" Bailey questioned, innocently oblivious to what his parents were talking about.

"A friend of daddy's," Beulah replied quickly.

Their eyes locking, Beulah and Billie Joe shared a moment that was strangely serene. It wasn't something that could be explained. It was more like there was an unspoken agreement to stop bickering.

With a nod of his head, the punk rocker leaned over to her and placed a kiss on her cheek. But it was more for show, so that Bailey didn't register the angst between his parents.

"We'll see you later, babe."

Beulah nodded. "Sure thing, darling," she answered; the tone in her voice sarcastic to Billie Joe's ears only.

He held her gaze for a moment, and then turned away from her and left the apartment with Bailey.

Placing her hands to her face, she ran her fingers through her hair and let out a frustrated growl before the tears began to fall. She sought solace by sauntering into her bedroom and curling up in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and closing her eyes.

Her crying started out at a slow pace, but when she let her wall come down, her sobs began to wrack her chest; the emotions she kept bottled up so much coming out only when she was alone, in the privacy of her bedroom, with no one to poke their head into her business and ask what was the matter.

And during it all, only one question -- one word -- rang through her mind.

Why?