“I was going to ask you if you thought Tish might like to come to our house,” Mickie says with a laugh.
“Maybe we should leave it up to them,” I say. “It’s too nice out tonight to worry about such mundane matters.” I offer Mick a cigarette and she takes it. I take one, too, and we sit quietly for a moment, smoking.
“Your friend Nyle is something else,” Mickie finally says, breaking the silence and punctuating her observation with a laugh.
“Intense,” I say. There’s no other word for Nyle. She’s sweeping and larger than life in a lot of ways. Intense sums it up nicely. I like her intensity. I like her ‘knowing’. She picks up on a lot of things, and even when I think that she’s being overly frank to the point of embarrassment, she seems to know when to stop pressing her points. All in all she’s very fun, funny in an acerbic way, and an interesting mix of feminine and masculine traits.
“I’d say,” Mickie agrees. “Is she really a librarian?”
“Seems so. I’ve only ever seen her at the library. I was surprised to see her today.”
“She’s an in charge sort of person. I can’t picture her as a librarian.” Mickie shakes her head. “More like a dictator or something.”
“She’s pretty ‘in charge’ there, too, although I’ve seen her be accommodating.” I have, even accommodating to rudeness.
“She’s fun,” Mickie says.
And I find myself breathing easier. I didn’t even know that I was tense. As soon as I do realize that I was, I know why. I want everyone I know to get along. Because I’m new to this, and I’m a new person anyway, I don’t want friction between friendships. I do wonder how Alex would respond to Nyle’s no nonsense attitude and matter-of-fact way of presenting things. I can easily see her telling him that yes, he’s a very nice person but nuts, absolutely certifiable. That thought makes me laugh, and I try to stifle it, but can’t.
“What’s so funny,” Mickie asks.
“I was thinking how Alex would react to Nyle.”
“That’s a hell of a thought,” Mickie says, and she laughs a little herself. “I think he’d be cool with her.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s out there, but she’s not harsh,” Mickie says. And that’s another good way to sum up Nyle.
“No, she’s not harsh at all.” If she had been, I don’t think I would have taken to her. Not that I’ve been around harsh people so much that they’ve worn me down, or even that I’m not harsh myself. Sometimes I think I am. But I don’t want that in my life if I don’t have to have it right now.
“I’m going to ask this, and you don’t have to answer it, but is A.J. okay? Really okay?”
There are a few answers to that question. One of them is ‘none of your business’, but that would be so completely out of line I reject it. In some ways I think it MIGHT be Mickie’s business, because, from what little I’ve been able to put together, I think Mickie is on Alex’s ‘side’. I think she could be helpful to him, and I think that they both know that. I just get the feeling that he’s not ready to jump into working just yet. Well, it’s more than a feeling. I think if he was ready he would open that closed door to his studio and work. And he doesn’t.
“Shi?”
“I’m sorry.” I’ve gone quiet.
“Let me change the question, are YOU okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s not scary for you here with him, is it?”
“No, not at all,” I say, and I laugh and I know I sound sincere because I am.
“There are other jobs out there, you know,” Mickie goes on. “I could put a word out and...”
“I like it here fine. He’s not a problem. He’s just not who I think you and Mindi and other people expect him to be. I get the impression that there are a few entities of Alex walking around, and that you all know one, and I know another, and that there’s not a lot of similarity between the two.”
“He’s awfully quiet for him,” Mickie says.
“See, and I think he’s just being who he is.” I shrug. “He’s only been a quiet person since I started working here. And recently, well, well, damn...”
“Did you sign a confidentiality statement?”
“A what?”
“Did you sign something saying you wouldn’t talk about A.J.?”
“No.”
“Has he asked you not to...”
“I don’t think that I have a right to make any comments on the man, Mick. He’s sort of betwixt and between in his life. Like I said, you and Mindi, you knew this other person that I’ve never met. This man I work for, he’s a quiet, almost reclusive person for the most part. And he’s depressed, I guess that’s no secret. I just think that he wants to keep to himself right now, and work out whatever it is he’s trying to work out. I don’t know what his problems are, and I guess, in a way, I don’t want to know what they are. I don’t think I have a right to know what they are unless he wants to tell me, and he hasn’t told me anything of the sort.” I sigh. “He likes French toast for breakfast and he golfs most days and that’s about it. I don’t think I could find a better place to work; he lets me do about anything I want around here. Now I’ll get to redecorate the house, although I wouldn’t call it decorated to begin with.”
“I think I get the picture,” Mickie says.
“I hope you’re not mad at me, I have...”
“Mad at you?” She bursts out into a big laugh and grabs my hand. “Why would I be mad at you?” She shakes her head. “I’m frustrated with A.J. One, I didn’t even know he lived in the neighborhood, so you’re right, he’s been a recluse for a while now. Just not knowing he lived around here makes me feel like an idiot and a bad neighbor. Two, it’s not like I follow his every move anyway. I mean, sure, I know about him. Everyone in the industry KNOWS about him, the Backstreet Boys were HUGE. I’m more surprised that YOU don’t seem to know much about him, or better yet, them. But that’s not important, hell, none of this talk is. And I guess I’m frustrated because I think this kid’s got some hellacious vocal chops and he’s wasting them.”
“Really? I’ve only just started listening to his music. Well, not his, but the Backstreet Boys. He stands out, but I thought it was just me.”
“It’s not just you.” Mickie grinds out the cigarette she was smoking, takes my pack, and lights a fresh one. “He did this solo stuff once upon a time. I had heard through the usual grapevine sources that he had a deal then. Just to warn you, the BSB have always been a sort of industry joke. Yeah, they’ve been famous, and yeah, they made more money than God, even with their management problems, but they were never taken seriously, and I guess they never were supposed to be taken seriously. I mean, and this might not mean anything to you, but they were a thrown together group of kids that were put out there to break little girl’s hearts and make money. Which they did. Big time.”
“But they really wanted credibility and no one was about to give it to them. Bottom line. I’m sure that caused them pressure.” She shrugs. “That’s the way it goes. Now they’ve kind of disappeared. They say it’s by choice. I think, and a lot of other people, that it’s more because the atmosphere in music is changing. Are you with me?”
“I think so,” I tell her.
“Anyway, out of all of them, the voices, the real voices, were A.J. and Brian Littrell. Do you know Brian?”
“No, just the name, now.”
“Well, he was the ‘lead’ vocalist, sort of. And he has a nice voice, a pretty voice, a controlled voice. But A.J., damn him, he’s got that other thing that no one can ever put their finger on, but he’s got it. I think, among those willing to admit that they listened to the Backstreet Boy’s music, that there was some expectation that A.J. would DO something if they ever took a break. Well. They took a break, but he hasn’t done anything.”
“And you find this frustrating on a personal level?” I ask, because I’m finding Mickie’s intensity as compelling and strong as Nyle’s.
“Not really on a personal level. Well, hell, yeah, maybe on a personal level. I’d like to work with the little shit,” she says, and laughs out loud again. “It would be a kind of a challenge to see where it would go. Okay, I admit it, he’s intriguing to me, because he seemed up front and real about what he did. Like, he knew the joke was on him but didn’t care. And he has a great voice, and a lot of charisma.” She takes a drag on her cigarette. “You should talk to Mindi. She toured with him, when he did his solo schtick. She’s legit, too. I mean to say, she’s a jazz player and takes her music seriously. She toured with the group, too, which is how she met A.J. She always had good things to say, and for me, and a lot of other session people out there who lurk in the background, to have someone legit make good noise about someone, well, it makes you listen.”
“Mick, why don’t you tell all this to Alex?” I ask her.
“Something Mindi said.” She turns to me, lying on her side in the lounge chair beside mine. “I guess it’s why I’ve been asking about how he’s been and everything. Everyone, well, everyone inside the business, we all kind of know who’s doing what all the time. It makes the rounds. We all knew that A.J. had a drug problem. Not that he just used, just about everybody at some time or other uses. It was that he had a problem with them. Mindi knew, she knew first hand. She knew that he had other problems, too, because he talked to her. She wasn’t specific, but she let me know that yeah, he’s been depressed. Pretty bad. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t working right now, the only thing that surprised her was that he called her; she hadn’t heard from him in a while. And then you’ve mentioned, not in so many words, but implied, that he’s still not doing great. I don’t know if hearing that people would like it if he came out of seclusion and started working again would be the best thing. Especially if it came directly from people who’ve worked for him, or with him. Or would want to work with him.”
“Really?”
“Maybe it would just be seen as, well, pressure. But if he just happened to stumble on the information, if someone were to just, you know, let him know in a completely causal way that they’d been hearing, I don’t know, complimentary things... you know...”
“And you think NYLE is intense?” I’m screaming with laughter. “She’s SUBTLE compared to you, Mick.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to let him know,” she says, but she’s laughing out loud, too.
“But you want ME to be the one to tell him? You don’t think he can figure out where this is coming from? He’s a little low, but he’s far from stupid, Mick.”
“We know.”
“WE? WE? Mindi, too?”
“And a couple of other people we’ve been talking to. I know this sounds like a conspiracy, but...”
“But it is. I think you’re hilarious. And just what would you have me say? ‘Alex, here’s your breakfast, and I’m picking up some dry cleaning today, oh, and by the way, there’s a bunch of musicians in town that think it would be a good idea for you to get up, get out, and get working with them.’”
“That sounds reasonable,” Mickie says, and we’re laughing all over again. Loud enough for the girls to come out and check on us.
“You two all right out here?” Kim asks.
“We’re fine. How would you two like a sleepover tonight?” Mickie asks. Then, while the girls hash out the details of where and what to do tomorrow, Mickie turns to me again. “Look, forget about it, it’s not...”
“I’ll get back to you about it. It’s not the worst idea in the world, I just... I have to think about it. Tell the ‘underground’ that agent X is on the job,” I say. And I wink. This is something that I have to think about. This is one of those things that I believe crosses a boundary. Then again, it seems that Alex and I have been making tiny toe marks over the lines of civility since day one, so I won’t discount the idea Mickie has presented me with.
Besides, on a night like this, with the soft breeze and the warmth of spring slipping into the air, it seems that all things are possible, even if they sound like lunacy.
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© 2003 Chandrah, Inc.
© 2003 (*> Baby Bird Productions, Inc.
