The Boy from the Band

I Shall be Released

1986:  Richard's death brought us back together.

I was listening to the radio on my way to work when I heard the DJ announce that Richard Manuel of the Band had been found dead in his hotel room after their show. The news was not unexpected, but I could not believe what I was hearing. He wasn't really dead, was he?

I called the radio station when I got to work to verify what I had heard—Richard Manual had committed suicide. There was nothing more to say, so I thanked them and hung up.

I was grateful for work that night. Nothing I heard had surprised me, but I remembered Richard and his soulful voice, his sense of humor, and how, next to Rick, he was one of the nicest people I knew.

Rick must be taking it hard, I wished I could be there for him but Elizabeth was on tour with him, so I would not be welcome. I didn't know when I would hear from Rick, but I knew he would come to me when he was ready. 

They would have to cancel some of their gigs, and I don't think Rick would take it well. Rick lives in his own world, in it, people didn't kill themselves. His magical thinking drove me crazy, but Rick was Rick. I didn't know how he would take it and I was worried about him.

I was not surprised by Richard's death, I had seen it coming but I hoped it wouldn't happen. I had tried to make Rick understand that they needed to keep an eye on Richard. If he didn't give up alcohol and drugs, he was setting himself up for a fall. I'm sorry that he checked out by hanging himself, I wish I could have saved him.

A week went by and I hadn't heard from Rick. It had been a long day at work, one of those days when you get home and all you want to do is sit on your sofa and do nothing—or maybe get drunk. I was more than tired, I was exhausted, I'd traded shifts with someone and worked days. I thought it would be less tiring than my normal shift—most of the difficult cases happened in the ER at night.

It wasn't. Several times during the day I was tempted to bang my head against a wall and vowed that I would do no more favors. This is what you get for being a nice person, I told myself, I'll think twice before doing it again.

Once I got home, I'd turned the tv on, not really paying attention, all I wanted was the noise so my apartment wouldn't seem so deathly silent. I was contemplating ordering a pizza or order to go from a restaurant, but I couldn't decide if I was really hungry. I knew I had to eat but I couldn't bring myself to leave the comfort of my sofa.

I decided on pizza and called in my order and was waiting for the delivery driver to arrive when I heard a knock at the door. The delivery guy arrived sooner than I expected, I'd have to leave him a nice tip.

"Just a minute, I've got to get my wallet." I ran into my bedroom then came out and opened the door.

It was not the pizza delivery, Rick was leaning against my door looking bleary-eyed and drunk, holding a brown paper bag in one hand with the neck of a bottle sticking out. Uh-oh, I thought, this is not good.

"Get in here," I told him and drew him inside, "Come on, sit down. What are you doing here?" I wasn't sure I would see him so early, but with Rick, I have learned to expect the unexpected.

"I couldn't deal with being at home," he mumbled and started to take another drink but I took the bottle gently out of his hand.

I pulled it out of the bag just far enough to be able to read the label: "Hennessey", his favorite cognac. It was almost funny that he was drowning his sorrows with cognac. I took the bottle and headed toward the kitchen.

"Hey, where are you going with that?" he called after me but I ignored him. I pulled a bottle of Perrier out of the fridge and put some ice in a glass and filled it, adding a lime wedge. I put the coffee on then returned to the living room and handed him the Perrier.