Louder Than Thunder

The next day, they were flying back to London. The magazine they were interviewed by while in Glasgow came out and Kim was sent a copy that morning. She brought it onto the plane for the girls to see. Once the plane was in the air, she left her seat and made her way over to the girls.
“Girls, here’s the magazine. Now, look through it please. I really want to make sure I’ve done well, and if not, what would you rather they discussed for next time?” she said, handing it to Darlene, sitting in the middle of the row.
She opened it up and the girls flipped through it for a couple minutes, reading to see if they changed anything they said. Kim waited anxiously to hear what they had to say about it. They gave the other a look with some nods.
“I like it,” Darlene stated, smiling her child-like smile at Kim.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It looks pretty good,” Michelle said with a proud chuckle.
“Aww, thanks!”
“Honestly, Kim, without you I wouldn’t believe that we’d get much farther. I have much more hope now that you’re with us. I think we might have more hope than the Leatherjackets, and they’re already an established touring group,” Mary admitted.
“You are all too nice.”
“It’s true though. The hospital was suggesting they keep Keith even longer when we went to pick him up, but they released him so that we could leave today. Imagine if he was stuck there while we were leaving. Even Sidney was worried about what would happen later on,” Michelle explained.
“You think that Keith bein’ – you know – out of it, is why we have more hope?” Mary asked.
“Maybe. I think they’ll regain it again soon, but for now, maybe.”
“I’m going back to my seat,” Kim said.
“Alright.”
The girls all relaxed again in their seats for a moment. Mary and Darlene continued flipping through the magazine while Michelle began writing lyrics in her notebook.
“When we get back, are we gonna stay in the hotel or should we move back into our place?” Darlene asked.
“Why move back into our place? I mean, not that we have a whole lot more money, but we do have quite a bit more. Why don’t we buy a slightly nicer place that Kim can move into with us?” Mary suggested.
“That’d be a groove.”
“Do we have enough to move into separate apartments? I’d kinda like having my own space,” Michelle said as she continued writing in her book.
“That would be nice too.”
“We’ll have to talk with Kim and check our numbers. We’ll stay at the hotel for now. We’re already booked in, after all. Besides, Kim can’t just stay in England. She’ll need a temporary residency or something. Darlene got a citizenship through her grand-parents. Kim’s parents aren’t English,” Mary explained.
“Alright, I see.”
The next evening, they had a London show to play. For once, it was a mod venue and it was one the girls had played before; however, they were playing weekday shows in this club, which was quite an exclusive place. The Saturday show, where the place was transformed from a club to a small seated auditorium, was practically sacred and they were playing it.
The girls played to their usual audience of teenagers, many of which they had seen around over the past year they’d been playing the club circuit. They recognized some of the faces as well. They used to like their shows quite a lot, so it made them happy to see them in the audience. They definitely came more for them than for the Leatherjackets.
The Rag Dolls played with a whimsy quite unlike themselves, but somehow it made the show better and they could tell. Things were finally going perfectly again and they weren’t afraid to let the world know. They got off, still buzzing with the excitement of having played one of their dream shows. The entire audience sang along to their songs!
When the Leatherjackets went on, they suspected something would go wrong, however. Keith wobbled onto the stage as if he had too much energy for his skinny frame and couldn’t control it all. Once he was in front of the microphone, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the last concert, when Keith collapsed on stage. The second he was on the stage, he was leaping around and singing powerfully as he was able to get all his energy out on playing through their explosive first song.
The rest of the band was obviously worried seeing how well he was doing. They knew this couldn’t end much better than the last one, but they played through and hoped for the best. For a moment, Keith sang into the microphone and seemed to be nodding off, his singing of the lyrics slowing down as he slowly began leaning against it; however, it was only a ploy and a moment later he was bouncing around again.
Then the time came, a few songs later, when Keith would do a signature of his. He’d never had an issue with it before until this concert; when he performed his trademark leap off the drum stand, he fell awkwardly with one ankle leaning aside.
“I knew it,” Michelle said to Darlene and Mary, who had just joined her.
“Damn, he landed badly,” Darlene said, twitching at the sight.
“Not again,” Albert said, wiping the sweat off his head.
The band had no choice but to stop playing. This time, everyone waited for the band to make a decision on it. Through the stream of swears, Keith began limping back towards the microphone.
“No, I want to finish playing,” he said. “They paid for the concert; it only hurts when I lean on it.”
“Fucking saint, he is,” Mary said in a snappy way, but she sort of meant it.
The band decided to help him off the stage. No matter what Keith said, he wasn’t going to finish playing in this state. The boys knew it, or they wouldn’t have taken him off.
“Well, what’ya waitin’ for? Call a bloody ambulance,” Eric yelled to Albert as they carried him by.
“Right,” he said, heading off to find a phone.
Keith was hospitalized yet again that evening, but this time for tests on his ankle.
The next day, Kim and Darlene came to Mary and Michelle’s hotel room early in the morning.
“I bring news from the record company,” Kim said as they entered.
“What’s that?” Mary asked.
“Something went wrong with one of the tracks so they’re sending the tracks to Polycent’s London Studio. They need us to get in there, redo the backing track and it needs to get sent right back to be finished.”
“Oh my God. All that just to send it back. They can’t finish it here?”
“No because they can’t send all the tapes here. Next time we’ll start recording here in England though,” Kim explained.
“Sounds good,” Darlene said, sitting on the bed beside Mary.
“Alright, so we’ll go down to the studio and then we’ll go visit Keith in the hospital,” Michelle suggested.
“Wait, we’re going to the hospital?”
“I promised Sidney we’d all go. Just to be nice, you know?”
“I don’t want to visit that bugger in the hospital. He’s become such a show off since he’s been on the stuff. He’s gone barmy.”
“Well, yeah, but it’s respectful, you know? Sidney said that, when he was at the hospital last night, Keith was acting very different. It was right strange, he said.”
“Alright, then.”
They finished their backing, and then got a drive to the hospital. Sidney met them up front and they walked in together.
“How is he, then?” Michelle asked.
“He’s been alright. He had a surgery on his ankle last night so it’s all bandaged for now. He won’t be able to leave for a while.”
“We still have one more show to play though.”
“He’ll be out by then. They’re gonna put something on his leg so that he can walk, but he still won’t be able to lean on it. He’s gonna get some sort of crutch to lean on.”
“That’s good. He won’t be able to move on stage, though.”
“Yeah, he won’t like it, but he’ll have to. Then again, I don’t know. Like I said the other day, he’s been. . .strange since he calmed down last night.”
As they entered a hallway on an upper floor, Kurt met them there.
“Erm, he wants to see you,” he said awkwardly.
“Us?” Mary asked.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly.
“Thanks, Kurt.”
“Were are you going, Kurt?” Sidney asked him.
“Cafeteria.”
“Alright, see you soon.”
They continued following Sidney down the hallway as Kurt continued on. The girls were led into a private hospital room.
“Hello? Keith, I’m back. The girls have come to visit you,” Sidney said, as they entered.
“ ‘ello,” Keith’s scratchy voice called.
“Hello, Keith,” Darlene said, stepping in sideways, trying to find a reason why it wasn’t awkward to be in that room.
“Hello,” Michelle, Mary and Kim echoed.
It was quiet at first. Sidney and Michelle looked at each other, wondering what to do or say next. Sidney noticed Michelle’s anxiety and took her hand in his, calming her instantly.
“Adorable,” Keith commented.
An unsure moment floated about for a moment as everyone was confused about what had just happened. Had Keith Jones just said that they were adorable? Had Keith Jones just used – and meant it when he said – the word adorable?
“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.
“Sorry for what?” Mary asked.
“I’m sorry for. . .for being so rude to you girls. We were a band struggling to break the big time too just a few years ago. Sometimes I forget how hard it was. I’m sorry for giving you girls such a hard time, and messing about with your first show, and with your party. I feel guilty, I really do. I wish you didn’t go to that last party and see that kid die. It’s not pleasant and I’m sure it’s affected you greatly and, even though I had nothing to do with it, I feel guilty just for being a rocker.”
“Don’t, Keith.”
“I’m serious and I’m tired of it! That’s the only reason why I did it. You were girls, and you were mods and I was supposed to be better than you. I had the drive but I shouldn’t ‘ave done it. I wasn’t even happy doing it. All it did was make me miserable with myself and made me think that I should be better than everyone around me and myself.”
“Keith, it’s okay,” Darlene said.
“No, it’s not!”
“Well, no, it’s not, but you can’t do anything about it now.”
“There is something I can do and that’s be a better person from now on. I mean, no, I can’t change what happened already, no matter how much I wish I could, but I can make sure I never do anything like that again.”
“That’s lovely,” Michelle said, gripping Sidney’s hand as they listened to Keith’s heartfelt apologies.
Sidney left her and walked over to Keith’s bedside, taking his friend’s hand in a brotherly hold.
“The fact that you’re owning up to your actions, you’re a good man.”
“Thanks, Sid, but you’re a better man. Go on, now. You must want to hang out with Michelle before our last show tomorrow. We’ll do a good job – go out with a bang, and come back even better next year.”
“Sounds good, man.”
“Alright. See you at the concert tomorrow. I’m being let out just before then, so I’m getting a ride straight there.”
“Alright, see you then. Get better,” Sidney said, as he backed towards Michelle.