Communion

Tre Cool’s son was delivered to a very proud mother in the aged hospital his father had been born in forty-one and a half years prior. Unbeknownst to the newborn was that his milk factory pained in her heart so much that welcoming him just couldn’t remedy it.

Rose wanted to run away from Germany and go home to try and escape the entrapment that the media had brought her. She wanted the world to end so that her family could have peace.

The birth had been so simple that Rose was in the hospital in the early morning and out by just after midnight. Billie Joe escorted her and the baby back to the hotel in a police cruiser which had been called as a security measure since the hospital was engulfed by reporters from major nations around the world.

They arrived safely back in the penthouse by one A.M. and the pair took in Mike watching television on the chesterfield a bass guitar laid down at his side.

The BBC of all things was talking about Green Day and Tre’s death. Mike reacted quickly to his new company by turning the television off. He hoped he had done it fast enough to not have burdened the mind of his friend’s widow. The look on her face suggested otherwise and he saw her sit down at the glass table on the sunken floor with the little bundled human in her arms, her back turned to him. He stood from the couch and looked at Billie Joe feeling unsure of how to approach either of them in a conversation.

“Hey,” Billie muttered. “Adie in bed?”

“Hi. Yeah,” Mike replied and he scratched the back of his neck nervously and turned to look down at Rose from where he stood elevated. “How are you feeling Rose?”

Rose was quiet and Mike couldn’t see her face to read it. She held her son against her tight and her body began to shake the way one does when they’re forcing back strong emotion and tears. The sounds of her grief became audible in the form of sniffles and gentle groaning.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said. “Rose I know I shouldn’t be telling you this right now, but this is really important.”

“What is?” Billie Joe said a look of concern coming across his face as he examined Mike’s body language and expression.

“The coroner got in touch with the media before us,” Mike continued.

“What? That’s ridiculous. And so stupid, they’re lying,” Billie Joe said feeling irritated by the news.

“We don’t need to know about how my son’s father ‘suffered fatal gunshot wounds to the throat and chest, piercing his lungs and dislocating his windpipe. And how he hemmorhaged and suffocated to death. Yeah, no,” Rose said erratically.

“Rose, that just said all that on the TV,” Mike said.

“What?” Billie Joe said.

“Tre was HIV positive,” Mike announced regretfully.

Billie stood back, crossing his left arm across his upper abdomen and tucking it under his right elbow. He brought his right hand up over his mouth, unsure what to think. “Are you sure about this? What?” he finally managed to say, unsure how to react.

“That’s what he said,” Rose piped in again.

“Huh? You knew about this?” Billie said and he came to the table, leaned over and looked her in the face. “Rose?”

“The coroner phoned my cell earlier,” Rose said avoiding eye contact with her cousin. She just stared at her sleeping angel and smiled softly.

“And the media knows?” Billie said.

“I okayed it,” Rose told him through her sniffles.

“Rose this is serious,” Billie Joe said and felt his heart pounding at the news.

“I know,” she said with sadness and a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.

“Rose you could be sick. The kids could have it,” Mike said and he came down on the sunken floor to join them. Coming behind her, he took in the sweet face of her newborn son.

“You could be sick too,” Rose said boldly in front of her cousin. “We did have sex.”

“Rose, the kids could be sick,” Mike repeated after realizing she was right. A chill came over him and he smiled at the sleeping baby. “What did you name him?”

“What does it matter? Me and my children will all die. Everything I love is being taken away from me.” The widow finally looked at her cousin and fear was dominating her face. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Rose, calm down,” Billie said and he finally sat down at the table. “You have money and we will do whatever we have to to make sure you and the kids are healthy.”

“What money?” Rose asked. She was feeling somewhat comforted knowing her husband died a lot faster than he likely would have had he kept living. “Does Frank even have a Will? I have no idea how to deal with this.”

“Oh I’m sure he does,” Billie said to comfort her, knowing a minimal amount about Tre’s finances. “We’ll go home tomorrow and I’ll help you find it.”

“Oh God, Frank you cheated on me. And I so deserve it, I am such an ungrateful whore,” she sobbed, ignoring her cousin, feeling no comfort from his words. Poor children, she had thought. Mommy had cursed you.

Billie Joe pursed his lips and placed his hand over hers to comfort her. “Rose, I shouldn’t tell you this, but Tre had some problems with another inmate when he was in prison.”

“I’m probably the one who gave it to him,” Rose sobbed after thinking about it longer, “I was stupid and never had a PAP test done after those assholes broke into our house. I wouldn’t even let the police use a rape kit on me.”

“Dear God,” Mike sighed.

Rose shook her head mournfully, slowly stood from the table and went to bed next to Michelle, with her new son cradled in her arms. Beautiful angels, no illness could take away your prevalent beauty given to you by your father. He will love you, as will I.

* * *

California, you are as constant as the North. As constantly sunny and beautiful, Rose thought when she had arrived at her home the next evening and the sun was just hovering at an angle above her head in the driveway. She had survived the cameras at the airport and now her baby was coming home for the first time while Michelle climbed from the backseat. Her cousin was standing at the other side of his vehicle looking up and on at the house.

Rose felt rather sad to be home. A house of memories, good and bad and the worst thing was that there would be no new memories. She had already made up her mind that she wanted away from this house. She wanted new memories.

Feeling for her keys with one hand in her pants pocket, she made her way up the front walkway. She sensed Billie Joe and Michelle behind her the short while before she halted and glanced in the mailbox, picked up the heap of mail and unlocked the door. It fell into the house slowly and sunlight lit up the foyer.

In her nostrils was dust. The house was vacant for some weeks and unclean. Her eyes trailed up each step while she stayed planted on the floor in the front doorway. It was that memory of her spouse falling into the depths of despair, binging on alcohol and Meth, trying to force himself on her one night, which resulted in him getting his arm bitten open. Why does one always recall the bad times?

Rose came into the house and heard Michelle fly by like a swift wind. She made haste up the stairs before she and Billie. “Michelle, come back here please! Remember what you daddy said—” she trailed off and her only daughter stopped and turned back to look at her. “He said we inspect the house when we come home. You stay with us until we know there’s no monsters in here.”

Michelle looked horrified and froze on the stairs at the mention of monsters. “Billie cousin, is there monsters?”

Billie Joe shook his head. “No, not really. But sometimes bad people might come into the house. Not likely though, your dad has AT&T like I do, so if anyone was in here, we’d probably have been called.”

Michelle looked satisfied with the answer. “Mommy, can I hold my brother?”

“No sweeties, he’s too small and you are too young,” Rose replied and listened to the drummer’s daughter groan in disappointment. She turned to Billie Joe, “I have a haunch the Will will be in the safe upstairs. It’s under the bed; I need you to lift it up if you can.”

“Sure,” Billie agreed. “Let’s go.”

In the master bedroom, Rose pulled Michelle’s old basinet out of the closet to put her baby boy into. He lay so compliantly and his proud mother just looked at him for a few long moments. “He looks like a girl,” Rose said smiling.

“Just like Tre,” Billie said.

“Frank looked like a girl?”

“So I’ve heard,” the musician replied.

Tre’s widow smiled and grazed her son’s cheek before turning around to face Billie Joe. “It’s under the bed,” she repeated.

Billie Joe picked the bed up and held it while Rose pulled away the rug underneath it. The safe was sitting in the floor like it had always been.

Rose could scarcely recall the combination and had to lay down on the floor to get to it, but after a few attempts the door opened. Inside she immediately noticed a brown envelope. "I think this is it," she said to her cousin while he held the bed above her,

"Awesome, I thought we would be looking for a long time," Billie said.

Rose grabbed the lone contents and turned it over and stood up. In blue pen it read: 'The Last Will of Frank Edwin Wright III.' She swallowed back a lump in her throat and opened it.

THIS IS THE LAST WILL of I, FRANK EDWIN WRIGHT III, presently of the City of Oakland, the State of California in the United States of America.

I. I REVOKE all former Wills and Codicils made by me.

II. I APPOINT my wife ROSE WRIGHT, presently of Oakland, California to be the Executor and Trustee of this, my Will, but should she die, either in my lifetime or after my death, but before the trusts hereof shall be terminated, or shall refuse or be unable to act or to continue to act as such Executor or Trustee, I shall appoint my oldest daughter, RAMONA ISABELLE WRIGHT presently of New York City in the State of New York.

III. I GIVE portions of my estate, both real or personal and of whatsoever nature and kind and wheresoever situated, including any property over which I may have any general power of appointment, unto my Trustee.

IV. I WISH all my current checking bank assets est. $22,000,000 to be divided fairly amongst my four children, RAMONA ISABELLE WRIGHT, FRANKITO WRIGHT-PALOMINO, MICHELLE WRIGHT and my unborn child with the Trustee and to my ex-wives LISEA LYONS of New York City and CLAUDIA PALOMINO of San Francisco I give each a non-negotiable sum of $1,000,000 to remedy any past wrongdoings caused by I and the return of both wedding bands. To my daughter RAMONA, a private skating rink for her routines of which my Trustee is aware. To my son FRANKITO I give my first drum kit. To my daughter MICHELLE, a lock of my green hair which will be inclosed with this Will. To the UNBORN, I give you my talent. These stipulations are to be carried out by my Trustee.

To my Trustee, I give my bank savings assets est. $15,000,000 and property and possessions and my quarter of royalties from my musical band Green Day shared between I, MICHAEL RYAN PRITCHARD and BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG both of Oakland, California and Warner Music Group. Royalties are non-negotiable.

Furthermore it is my wish that my two children with the Trustee, MICHELLE WRIGHT and the UNBORN are properly educated and kept away from broadcasting media until they are of legal age unless the Trustee sees fit for otherwise. To the Trustee, my wife ROSE WRIGHT it is my wish that she find solace in MICHAEL RYAN PRITCHARD whom consoled her whilst I suffered a personal downfall and was unable to support her emotionally or physically. And their son RYAN PRITCHARD of Oakland, California whom I wish can finally have a mother upon my death.

“Jesus Christ, he knew,” Rose gasped, stepping away as Billie Joe placed the bed back down on the floor. “Oh my God.”

“Knew what?” Billie asked.

“He knew about Ryan,” she said slowly, looking at her older cousin with wide eyes and she sat down on the bed. “I don’t understand, he’s telling me to find solace in Mike. How the hell could he have known about Mike and I?”

“I don’t know,” Billie said and he shrugged his shoulders.

Rose gasped, “The journal!”

“What?”

Rose shook her head and shortly after, began explaining, “Some time ago, I noticed the journal I was making frequent entries in, it went missing. I found it in the dining room and I couldn’t figure out who had read it.”

“I guess Tre did,” Billie said.

“I never suspected him because he never blew his top at me,” Rose said and she started to weep again. “Oh my God, he knew. Aw poor Frank, he must have felt so betrayed by me, and with his good friend.” Rose lowered her eyes unto the Will and turned the pages of stapled document over and a folded piece of paper fell out.

“What is that?” Billie said and he sat down beside Rose.

Rose slowly unfolded the single sheet of paper, smoothing out its crevices and she began to read aloud, “My Dearest Rosie, it is my hopes that I am dead before you find this, whether it be when you are young or when you are ninety. I hid it in our safe because I know you can’t pick the bed up by yourself. Rose, if I have died of an illness to which I can’t stand to say or write, I want you to know that I knew I had it all along. The only reason I didn’t tell you, was because I knew you had it too. And I have been medicating you and Michelle.” Rose looked up at Billie in shock as she was soaking up all the information she was reading. And she continued, “That day that turned our lives upside down, it really did. His pseudonym is Snake, he’s dangerous and I hope he dies before he can ever touch you again. Snake was the one that gave the disease to you and he gave it to me.” Rose stopped.

“They were in the same cell block together.”

“Are you serious?” Rose cried.

“Yeah,” Billie said nodding.

Rose just shrugged it off, but took the news in and at that moment her husband was a Saint. He had to have been the bravest and strongest man on Earth to have endured such a circumstance for so long without totally going insane. Somehow he had managed to bounce back, be a husband and a father and dedicated to his music like he had always been.

She sniffled and continued to read, “Which is why, I want Mike to look after you if I can’t. He’s strong and sexy. I kind of sensed you two had something going when I was gone for so long. And to be honest, if I hadn’t seen Ryan I would still be unsure. I’m not mad Rose, I know how emotionally weak you are and I’m sorry for failing you as a husband. You have been a very understanding wife and I thank you so much for putting up with my lifestyle. I love you my sweet wife.” Rose paused and sniffled back her many tears, “God I miss him.”

“So do I,” Billie Joe said tearing and he placed his arm affectionately around the young widow. “What else does it say?”

Rose couldn’t speak for a few moments so she passed the letter off to her cousin and looked away to wipe her eyes.

Billie Joe cleared his throat and began narrating for Tre, “Do you recall the day when we were out shopping and those two girls said you were ugly? I was so sick that day but I downplayed it and went to the doctor behind your back. The doctor told me what was wrong after I had some tests done. He said normally it lays dormant in a person for years, slowly attacking the cells. It makes a person’s immune system extremely weak.” The singer-guitarist caught his breath and continued, “And by the way dear, you are not ugly. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Ha laid. I’m going to make sure our kids eat healthy because the doctor said that is the best thing to fight it. And I’m going to make sure you eat healthy too, no more bad food habits Rosie. Billie told me about your eating disorder…”

“You did?” Rose asked.

“I may have, yeah,” Billie replied nervously.

Rose sighed loudly, “I don’t care really. That seems so trivial right now.”

“I’m sorry Rose, I was concerned,” Billie Joe said. “I would have approached you myself with it, but the subject scares the crap out of me.”

“Why?” Rose cried.

“Because, I’ve had my own issues and it’s not something I like to talk about,” the green-eyed man said emotionally.

“Billie, you can tell me anything if you want,” Rose offered.

“I know. I guess…well every time I have to throw myself out there I get so stressed out. Yeah I already talked to you about taking anti-depressants and I just—I would start smoking like a chimney and get really obsessive about being in shape, watching what I ate, you know,” Billie Joe said and titled his head back to look up at the ceiling, then sighing. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“No you don’t,” Rose replied to be a contrarian.

“Well I feel like a bit of an asshole for not talking to you, especially when I have been suffering with the same thing for years and years,” Green Day’s front man said with guilt on his conscience.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rose said forgivingly and she placed her hand on Billie’s back.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Billie mentioned.

“I’m not, Twiggy. And call me selfish, I just feel good knowing I’m not alone,” she said and she wiped her eyes. “I want to finish reading the Will.”

Assets to be donated to or displayed at exhibitions or auction at Trustees discretion: Bookmobile (with permission from my father FRANK EDWIN WRIGHT JR of Willits, California or HIS Trustee), The Lookouts recordings, handwritten lyrics to my songs, my golfing equipment, sequined dress from ‘Holiday’ video, mud stained clothes from Woodstock ’94, unaired Punk’d episode, the Pink Bunny costume, cassette tape ‘All By Myself’ was recorded on and the clothing I’ll die in.

Funeral Arrangements: I WISH my funeral services to be conducted at my parents’ property in Mendocino County of which my sister LORI MOORE is the Executor, by a non-denominational clergy. It is my wish that my children with the Trustee do not attend, unless they are an age of twelve years or older.

Burial: I WISH to be buried in casket in Evergreen Cemetery’s Golden Lotus Mountain in Oakland in the double mausoleum owned by I. The Trustee when she should die I would like buried long side me, unless she sees fit for otherwise.

Signed,

Frank Edwin Wright III

Witnessed by,

Jason White

“He owns a mausoleum?” Rose asked aloud though not expecting an answer. “I had no idea he was planning ahead like this.” She looked down into the envelope and the green lock was there like her husband had promised.

“Rose, these past few days have been the worst thing I’ve ever gone through and it is just one thing after the other that keeps piling on us. But I think the most important thing is that you and the kids get to the doctor. Like yesterday,” Billie Joe said with genuine concern.

“I will, don’t you worry. I will right away,” Rose replied, nodding her head. “I just— I want to lay my husband to rest.” She stood from the bed and came to the basinet, hearing Michelle off enjoying having her bedroom back. She looked at her awake son and picked him up in her arms again, whispering, “Daddy’s not really gone. Not really...not as long as I have you, Frank.”