Snow covered mountains jut to the left and right of us as I steer our rented SUV down the country road. Denny's face is pressed against the glass his eyes big like saucers with each passing natural wonder we encounter. The magic of bringing a city kid to the country for the first time can't be over stated, and like me he seems to be falling in love with the landscape and tranquil beauty stretching before him. Don't get me wrong I love my creature comforts, and you can't beat being close to the city and all it's accompanying luxuries. But to truly get away from it all, disconnect from the rat race and just breath the bounty of natural wonders the earth has given us...it can be awe inspiring.
I first discovered this place in the mid-eighties when my mental health was spiraling dangerously out of control. I was on stage with the love of my life night after night watching her flirt and go home with other men when the show would end. I was in a relationship at the time but it didn't stop me from obsessing, crawling into her dressing room practically on my hands and knees pleading with her to come to my bed and not theirs. The rebuke would often determine the night we had on stage, I it was particularly harsh I might purposely mess up the chords to her songs or play too fast for her to keep up. I don't properly remember what happened in New Zealand but I gather she'd shot me down pretty badly if I did what Christine said I did. Carol Ann even got onto me about it, which shocked me considering how much she hates Stevie.
After our last tour as a band I disappeared from public life for three years, reachable only via a complex network of calls to people who knew people who knew people. It was my way of staying as far away from Stevie and our sordid past as I could, but it was the eighties and she was everywhere. Every magazine, every late night talk show, every commercial and music video on every channel...she was there. I couldn't go out into public without people asking me about her, quizzing me about her drug use or her latest relationship. Stupid questions as to whether it bothered me to see her with other men. Of course it fucking bothered me.
Then I found my mountain, and I was able to disconnect from it all at last. Our confrontation when I quit the band was...epic and it had the dual affect of sending me careening off the cliffs of insanity and bolstering my desire to just escape from everything. My therapist recommended I get away so I packed up a crate of my favorite booze and did just that, reemerging years later a changed and liquor soaked man. On the plus side I found this place, and bought it on a whim. The gate leading up to the front of the house is carved wrought iron, it reminded me of a fairy tale castle. And of course fairy tales remind me of Stevie, and the first thing that came to my mind was how much she'd love it here. One cold winters day in 1992 with a full beard and a half a bottle of whiskey I turned on my T.V. again.
I saw the love of my life, and she looked like she was one breath away from dying. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to hold her in my arms and care for her. She looked ill and tired and her weight was clearly out of control. I can look at Stevie and tell when she's happy, sad, angry, content, miserable, tired and a whole swath of other emotions. When I saw her again she looked defeated and depressed, I was afraid to try and contact her after so long but the conversation we had left me hopeful.
***
November 1992
Two joints and one Jack and coke and I'm right back where I started this afternoon staring at my phone. It's snowing outside my guitar is laying on the couch with my lyric journal, it's no good I've been playing Landslide on a loop all afternoon wishing it's author was sitting by my side, her luscious nude body wrapped in one of my heavy knit throws her eyes sleepy and buzzed from a few pulls on a joint humming along while I strum. The way we used to be, when we first fell in love.
