At the bottom of everything.

So it went. April and Phil called around after lunch. April was surprised to find the laundry out on the line drying, thanks to yours truly, and so she decided to do some gardening. She liked to keep busy like I liked to keep busy. We were two of a kind.

Phil and Bam sat on the upstairs porch and drank pint glasses of lemonade. I could hear them talking, that father son kind of chit chat and my heart sank. However, for the sake of my remaining dignity and April, I shook it off and continued to idly stand by the door. April was on her knees pulling out dead plants and rearranging the soil, she had given me the watering can hoping I would perhaps use it.

“It won’t bite Ville.” She said, “Surely you know how to water plants?”

“Sure. But I just don’t.”

“Don’t tell me you of all people, Mr Valo, are all about ‘Men don’t garden’? You did the laundry didn’t you?, “I nodded, “So? You can water plants.”

“Ape I’m no gardener.” I sighed and sat upon the ground, “Maybe I should start though. God knows nothing else is working.”

April turned to face me, a grim expression on her face. She sighed.

“Have you called your family?”

“Yes. Mama answered and I didn’t have the balls to answer back.” I said, my head was hung low and my shoulders were slumped.

“Bam really needs you to talk this over Ville. He is so worried.”

“I know. He’s says today is the day. And that it has to be, y’know, today.” I made circles in the dirt with the tip of my finger, “He sure means it.”

April got to her feet and brushed off her pants. She then produced her hand for me to take, I obliged and she pulled me up.

“Phil and I will scoot. Sit down, with a large mug of coffee, a carton of cigarettes and talk to my son.” As she said the last sentence she poked my thin chest with her finger, “You hear!?”

I simply nodded, unable to find the strength to say anything in return; Every ounce of my energy was being used up in keeping my ever slipping composure. Ape retreated inside, after giving me a pained smile, and called for her husband. I remained where I was until I was certain Bam had successfully left them to the door, I then went into the living room and awaited my lovers return.

My heart was in my throat, sweat was forming on my palms and when I heard the hard thumb of the closing door, I stiffened. My stomach gave a lurch and all notions of speech left my mind. I’m not good at this, that’s why I write music. I can’t talk about these things and to even think about the painful words of my family drove me to tears. I didn’t want Bam to see me cry anymore.

I reached for my cigarettes and inevitably lit the tip; ash fluttered as hand shook. My knee was shaking as well, a nervous habit on my part. Bam trotted in through the door way, a mug of freshly made coffee in each hand and a box of tissues gripped between his teeth. It hit me that I hadn’t even heard the kettle boil; I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. It was the reason I was so upset, I was dwelling too much on it; Sometimes, I curse myself for my deep thinking.

“Not falling for the puppy eyes this time, Valo, I’m gonna be as tough as fucking nails.” Bam said mock anger in his voice, “Start talkin or I’ll call Mige. He’ll sort you out!”

“No need. Your mother has put the fear of god into me.” I replied before bringing the cigarette back up to my lips, “I’ll talk but on my terms.”

“Which are?”

“This stays between you and I. No Mizze, no Burton, no Gas and no Lily. No anyone but me and you.” I pointed my index finger at him and narrowed my eyes. His expression said enough but he placed his right hand above his heart and swore to the Gods that he would keep his trap shut.

I took a long drag on my cigarette, closed my eyes softly and sighed. Where did I begin? I searched my mind for the start of the story, but everything was tangled and weaved around one another. Bam sat still, not a shuffle did he make until I opened my eyes and then he reached out for my cigarettes.

“Okay.” I said, “Let’s begin then.”

*****

“Mama!” I called as I walked in through the front door of the quiet family home, “Mama? Are you here?”

My mother poked her head around the kitchen door and smiled at me. It hadn’t been long since I had last seen her, a few days at most due to interviews and the like, but considering I was just home from tour she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible.

Mothers are odd creatures. They forever want you to be independent yet they never want you to fly away for too long. But Mama knew I would always come home again.

I strode into the traditional kitchen; my boots clicked on the hard wood floor and smell of home cooking hit my nostrils. She was standing by the sink washing dishes and gazing out into the snow covered back yard.

“Ville, honey, would you like something to eat? Drink?” She asked me, “You must have had a long day? How many meetings was it? I must have a talk with the Seppo, working you too hard.”

She never gave me time to answer and I didn’t attempt to. She talked and I listened; it was how it had always been. Papa was different. He rarely asked questions, he just rambled.

“It’s alright Mama, really.” Truth be told I had been packing all day to leave for Westchester for a week.

I was planning to tell them about myself and Bam on this very day. My hands were shaking, so I kept them in my pockets, and my throat felt as if it might close over.

“Are papa and Jesse around?” I asked taking a seat by the fire.

“Your father is. Jesse is at work dear; you know that?”

I did. But my mind wasn’t working on what I knew. I just watched as Mama left the kitchen to retrieve my father from the garage.

“Is it overly important dear?” She shouted to me.

“Well..” I hesitated; was it? Couldn’t I just leave and say nothing to them? It was only a week after all. I shook my head. I needed to tell them before it got any more serious, and the way things were going it was heading in that general direction, “Yes. Yes it is mama.”

“Oh alright then.” She muttered to my father.

I shifted in my seat, crossed and uncrossed my legs. I brought my hands from my pockets and picked at the nails. My heart was pounding in my chest, so hard I thought it might stop.

“What is it son? Are you in trouble? Is it the band?” My father smiled, “Is it a girl?”

I blushed.

“Sorta.” I replied.

He looked at my mother and then to me again, a grin on his face.

“Well no.” I corrected myself before it got any further, “It’s…it’s hard to explain.”

“Ville, it’s us. You can tell us anything honey.” My mother sat beside me and took hold of my hand.

“It’s just…I’m heading to Westchester for a week.” I muttered.

She furrowed her thin brows, “That’s all?”

“No. It’s not.” I bit my lip and swallowed roughly, “It’s Bam.”

“What about him? Is he being a little cunt?” My father snapped.

“No.”

“What’s he done on you? What’s he said?”

“Nothing.”

“I like the kid but if he hurts you, fuck, I’ll kill him. Making you fly all the way over – “

“Papa! Stop.” I couldn’t stand the criticism, “He hasn’t done anything. Nothing bad anyway.”

“Well, what is it?”

“He…me….” I squeezed my eyes shut, “We are seeing each other. We are in love and have been for a while now.”

My mother let go of my hand and gazed at me. Her expression was unreadable but I noticed her fumbling with her rosary beads. My father was silent also; the only sound was the whurrr of the fridge and the bark of the next door neighbour’s dog.

“Get out!” My father barked.

“What?!” I replied.

“Get the fuck out!”

My mother said nothing , she simply got up from where she was sitting and went back to the dishes.

“Are you serious?”

“Ville just get out.” My mother sighed.

“I just admitted to you that I am in love with another man and –“

“And that is against everything I believe in. Not to mention your father. To come over here to tell us that and not expect this sort of reaction is naïve Ville. Get out of this house.” My mother was shouting, something I had never heard my mother do since I was a kid, meanwhile my father had a strong hold on my upper arm, “Don’t step foot in this house until you come to your senses.”

“Mama I can’t help who I love!”

“Grow up Ville. You are not a teenager anymore; end the rebelling.”

“Papa, you of all people!”

My father was already dragging me towards the front door. I was stunned by their reaction, so much so that I couldn’t muster a decent response. I just went along with my father and stood still when he slammed the front door in my face.