The Life We Once Knew

Life Is Very Short

Performances never made me as exhausted as the ones at the club did. Even when we were on tour, playing in a different city every day in front of screaming fans, I was never so tired I felt like I might black out. Playing with Storms Over London, however, was twice as exhausting as playing with Revolution was. All of my energy was put into trying to maintain a calm reflection whenever Tabitha was doing her best to get a rise out of me. It was exhausting to smile whenever all you wanted to do was scream. 

Any other time, I would have screamed. I would have let my emotions get the better of me and I would have let Tabitha have it. This time, however, I kept myself under control. I did it, not so much for myself or for the band, as I did it for Linda. 

She was at her wits end with us. She and Ellen were the only two capable of stopping Tabitha and my arguments, but Ellen wasn't always around. That left Linda. She was the sort of person who could remain calm when faced with a tornado, but we were getting to her. Any day now, I expected her to start screaming with us or, my biggest fear, her to quit. So, for Linda's sanity, I kept my mouth shut. 

It was exhausting, truly. I felt like I was going to explode during every session and pass out after the rest. Luckily, Jane was home for the time being. Things got infinitely better whenever I got home to see her waiting for me. 

"Elly, if you don't do something, you're gonna go gray early," Jane muttered. 

My head was in her lap as she was playing with my hair. I had just gotten back from one such show that made me feel like I was going to either explode or implode, depending on the moment. 

"Look closer," I mumbled, "I'm probably already gray."

Jane chuckled, "Not quite."

"Might as well be. Tabitha's killing me, Janey."

"You have to do something before she actually does," Jane added. 

"There are only two options," I rolled over to where I could look up at her, "Either we find a middle ground, which is impossible, or we go our separate ways."

Jane furrowed her brows, "If you went your separate ways, that would mean-"

"Exactly, the end."

A musician's greatest fear was their last day. The last day their music meant anything to anyone or the last day their band was standing. Music had been my life since 1957, and I wasn't about to give it up now. To break away from Tabitha was to break away from the band, and I was not yet willing to let it go. 

"I know what you need," Jane suddenly exclaimed, "Hang on."

She gently pushed me off before hurrying to the front hall. I cocked my head. When Jane got an idea in her head, her vision tunneled. All she could see was what she needed to do, and that was exactly what she was going to accomplish. I just had to wait until she was done. 

I could hear her dialing and hanging up several times. Her voice was muffled, making it to where I couldn't understand her. As she called whoever she was calling, I stretched out on the floor and moaned. Vera toddled over from where she was reading in the nearby armchair. 

"What's Janie doing?" Vera asked, leaning on my chest.

I wrapped an arm around her back, "Your guess is as good as mine, Junior."

"Maybe she's calling Uncle Beebles!"

"Maybe so," I chuckled, "It always seems to be them, doesn't it?"

Vera giggled and nodded. It always seemed to be the lads. John, Paul, George, and Ringo always seemed to be around every corner. Whenever I was unsure about something or having a bad day, there they would be whether they knew it or not. Even on happy days, where things couldn't seem to get better, there they would be to prove me wrong.