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Writing

Silver Springs

I push open the door to our apartment in Sausalito.

“Lindsey?” I call for him, “Angel, I’m home.”

“Good, I need to talk to you.” He walks into the room.

“Ok. Hi, how are you?” I reach out to wrap my arms around him but he steps back and folds his arms across his chest.

“What?” I ask.

“Stevie, you have to go.” He says flatly.

“Wha…?”

“I said you have to go, tonight.”

“Lindsey, what are you talking about.”

“I said you have to go, can I make it more clear? I’m kicking you out.”

“You can’t do that… where an I supposed to go?”

“That’s not my problem is it?” he says smugly.

“Linds, c’mon.”

“There is nothing left to say, I want you gone.”

“Lindsey…”

“You have an hour to get your stuff and leave.”

“I can’t move out in an hour.”

“Then come back tomorrow, when I’m not home.”

“Why don’t you go?”

“Because, I’m the one who’s kicking you out.”

“Oh, I get it. Well, excuse me for raining on your little macho parade here.”

“Shut up.” He glares at me.

“Make me. You know what, you’re not kicking me out anymore. I’m leaving. I’m leaving. I’ll go find somewhere else. Maybe I’ll even call Don.” I threaten.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me, I will. I’ll bet he’s better than you are, maybe I’ll find out tonight. Then you’ll wish you had never done this.” I whip around on my heels, walk to the bedroom and slam the door. I throw together an overnight bag and turn on some music to cover my voice and pick up the phone, dialling Christine’s condo.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Hi Chris, it’s me, are you doing anything tonight? Can I come over?”

“No, I’m not, why? Did you and Lindsey have a fight?”

“You guessed it. He’s thinking he’s kicking me out.”

“Sure, come on over.”

“Can I ask you one more favour?”

“Ok…”

“I wanna make Lindsey mad, really hurt him.”

“Yeah…”

“So will you not tell him that I called you up? Please?”

“No problem. Just come over and hang out.”

“Thanks Chris, you’re a lifesaver.”

“What flavour?” she jokes.

“Chris, you know what I mean.”

“Hey, we girls gotta look out for each other, huh?”

“Yeah, thanks, see you soon.”

I hang up the phone and just as it touches the base I get an idea. I turn off the music and pick the handset up again. I hold it to my ear but I don’t dial anyone.

“Hello, Don?” I say, plenty loud, so that Lindsey can hear my every word. “Yeah, it’s me, Stevie. Hey, how about we go out tonight? Oooh, really, great! Ok, sure. I’ll meet you there. What should I wear? Oh, you’re bad Don! No, I will. Yeah, meet you in an hour. Ok, goodbye Angel.” I add an extra emphasis on angel.

I put the phone down and look at what I am wearing. A t-shirt and jeans; it’s not worthy of a “date” with Don Henley.

I pull out a low-cut, backless, black dress with an evening shawl and put it on. “That’s better,” I think to myself.

I open the door again and walk to the front door. Lindsey is sitting on a chair in the living room drinking a beer.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says as I reach for the knob.

“What?” I ask impatiently. I take the car keys off the shelf.

“Uh, you don’t have to go.”

“Oh, well, now I do. I have a date, with Don.”

“In that? Don’t you think you’ll be, cold?” he asks nervously, surveying my outfit.

“Nah, I have a shawl. I don’t need you to be my parent.”

“Fine then, excuse me for trying to be nice.”

“Anyway, don’t wait up for me, I doubt I’ll be home.”

“That’s fine.”

“So, bye.”

I leave and drive over to Chris’ apartment. I notice that there are open condos; I make a note of it. Chris is inside, so I knock. She opens the door saying, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I get you anything to drink? Are you hungry?” she says with true English hospitality.

“Uh, not right now, but thanks anyway.”

“Ok, well, take a seat. Do you wanna talk, or watch TV or cry or what?”

“I don’t know, I mean, I just got home and I wasn’t mad at him or anything, he came in and said to leave.” I say, collapsing on the couch.

“Did he do anything else?”

“No, he just said that I had to leave and so I told him that he wasn’t kicking me out and that I was leaving him.”

“Then what?”

“I called you and once we hung up I made a pretend call to Don and supposedly he and I are out on a date.”

“Well, I guess that explains the stage clothes.”

“Yeah, I wanted to make Linds jealous.”

She shakes her head at me, “You two, I swear.”

“Well, I only said I was going out with Don because he has no right to kick me out. I mean, just two weeks ago, you know, after we had ‘broken up’ for a while to try and work things out? Well anyway, we were driving through Maryland and he accused me of just using him for sex and not marrying him so that I could sleep with other men! The nerve!”

“If you won’t commit to him…”

“You sound just like my mom! Lindsey and I are as good as married when we want to be. And don’t tell me that he wasn’t seeing that Karen what’s-her-face when we were ‘off’.

“Stevie, still. I swear though, give you two another week and you’ll be back together again. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Why don’t you just kick back and relax here tonight? Everything will be better in the morning. I’ll cover for you at the studio tomorrow, ok?

“Ok, thanks Chris.”

“Now, let’s have a glass of wine, put our feet up, watch some telly. We deserve it, we both have god knows how much horse manure being thrown at us.”

“Yeah, what with me and Lindsey and you and John, we’ll all be basket cases.”

“You know what I think?”

“Hmm?”

“I think that this is gonna be one helluva recording session.”

***

We are sitting around in the studio; it’s late morning, early afternoon. Lindsey still thinks I was with Don last night. I can tell by the way he’s acting. There are glares flying back and forth and he mouths insults at me.

“Ok, who’s got something new?” Mick asks us.

“Oh, I have something.” Lindsey offers.

“Well, let’s hear it.”

Lindsey picks up his guitar and pulls a sheet of paper from his pocket. He starts a series of chords then begins singing. “Loving you, isn’t the right thing to do. How can I, ever change things that I feel? If I could, baby I’d give you my world. How can I when you won’t take it from me?! Tell me why, everything turned around.”

I start to feel uncomfortable, but decide to at least let him finish the song. I suppress the need to smash his guitar over his head.

“Packing up, shacking up’s all you wanna do!” he continues. He glares at me again, and I stop listening to him at all.

“Nice, nice.” Mick nods, “Anyone else? Stevie? Chris?”

“No, I’ve got nothing.” I say, “Not today.”

“Me either, but Lindsey, what if you repeat the ‘dun dun dun dun’ for the middle section?” Christine suggests.

I know at this point there isn’t much reason for me to hang out her. Until they need me for vocals, which won’t happen until much later, if at all. I announce that I’d be in the other room and waltzed out.

What did he think he was doing? “’Tell me why, everything’s turned around. Packing up, shackin’ up’s all you wanna do.’” I sing in a mock tone.

“That’s all HE wants to do, not me.”

I pull out my journal from my purse and try to write. Frusturated I put down my pen and take out a pack on incense. I light some and the smell fills the air. I dip my hand into the small pocket of my skirt and fish out the small vial and look at it.

I stare, thinking, it could all feel better, all the problems will disappear.

”For a little while, then they get worse.” The back of my mind shouts. “Every time you do that, every time you run away, you’re digging your grave.”

I shove the vial back in my pocket and flop over on my stomach. I lie thinking.

I sat in silence. Neither of us speaking, but it was not like the old silence. It’s a bad silence. We were not speechless, we were angry. The stress of the band had been too much. I brushed my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The quietness was creepy and unsettling. After a bit, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached out and touched the radio button. The second I did, I knew it was a mistake. ‘Rhiannon’ blared over the speakers. Lindsey quickly switched it off again. We didn’t speak, still he was concentrating more on driving that he was on making conversation.

“Tired?” I finally asked, for the sake of breaking the ice.

“No!” he snapped at me, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Ok, sorry, you don’t have to take it out of me, I didn’t do anything.” I turned away from him, looking out the window. He wasn’t gonna talk to me, so I wasn’t gonna get yelled at for trying to small talk.

There were trees and everything along side the road. I watched them pass. I watched the freeway signs go by. I couldn’t take the stillness I had so much to say, but at the same time, so little.

Lindsey sighed, repositioning himself in his seat. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead he yawned. I glanced over at him and caught him looking at me.

I tried the radio again, I hoped for something that would make him less crabby. My finger touched the button and he glared at me. With my luck it would have been some other song that he hated. I held my breath and wait until the song plays. It was the Beach Boys. “God, I got lucky there,” I thought as I watched his response. He smiled a little. Seeing his smile made me happy, a smile tugged at my own lips. He began singing along. I just listened, leaning back on my seat.

“Can we talk, Linds?” I asked him when the song was over. I looked at him with begging eyes. He shrugged.

“Angel, please? Like we used to be able to. I can remember when we used to be able to talk, really talk.” I missed those days.

He looked away, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“I’m scared about loosing us. You mean so much to me. You are my better half.” I gushed.

“Stevie, don’t do this.” He started. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. You know that we’re ready.”

“We’re ready for what?”

“Ready to… let go.”

Tears started running freely down my face. “I will never be ready to let go.” I sobbed, “I love you, Lindsey.”

“You say you love me, but why? If you love me, why couldn’t you marry me? Why would you tell me that it’s best we see other people? Why would you go off, leave me, if you really loved me, that would never happen. I’ve tried to fix things, but you won’t let me.”

“Lindsey, what is it that you want? Do you want us to get married? Do you want me to surrender myself? What do you want? You can pull over, take me, right here and now.” I said.

“That’s just the problem. I know that you love me that way, but do you love me, as Lindsey Buckingham?”

“Of course I do.”

“When why won’t you marry me? Why can’t you make the simple promise to me? Why do we end up in this rut and we lack trust that we USED to have in each other? Why do you act like you only wanna shack up? Is it so you can have other men once you tire of me?”

“Lindsey,”

“Answer me!”

“Lindsey, that is not true. It’s not like you weren’t seeing that receptionist, whatever her name is.”

“Carol,” he replied. “Stevie, look, apparently we weren’t meant for each other.”

“I wanna work this out, I want things to be like before. Like before we joined the Mac. I would give up all the fame and the money and everything in a heartbeat if it meant that we would be able to have what we had then, to be able to be that much in love with each other.”

“We can’t, we can’t. We’re either ready to kill each other of in each other’s arms. We are either on or off, there is no middle ground.”

“Lindsey, please? I just want things to be the way they were.”

He didn’t respond, instead he looked at the map.

“Where are we going?” I asked, changing subjects.

“Up this way, we’re joining the rest of the band to finish the tour. I thought we’d take this route, so we have to watch for exit 274.” He said.

“Ok,” I returned my head to the window and looked out on the scenery.

“Lindsey, look at the trees.”

“I’ve seen trees before Stevie, nothing new.”

“I know, but look at the colours. They’re all changing.”

“I see that too, so?”

“Ok, never mind. There’s exit 280, we must be close.” I point out the window.

“280, crap, we missed it.”

“Maybe not, let’s keep driving anyway.”

“No, we missed it, it’ll be 281 and then 282.”

“Well, we at least have to drive to the next exit to turn around.”

“Fine.” He grumbled.

“When did we last eat? What time is it?”

“I dunno.”

I looked at my watch. “Linds, it’s almost six, let’s get off at the next town and eat something. Maybe find a motel for the night.”

”We should keep going.” He protested.

“Angel, please? We have time; we came out here to “relax”. I don’t see how driving longer is gonna help that any.” I touched his arm. “Please?”

He sighed, “Ok, we’ll stop.”

“Thank you!” I clapped. “Oh, look there’s the sign!”

“Exit 281,” he read. “Two miles. See, I told you we missed it.”

“So? Let’s go there anyway, and like we said, find some food and a bed. Maybe things will be better in the morning.”

“Let’s just turn around and go back.”

“No, see, the town is right here. One mile.” I read the sign, “Exit 281, one mile.”

He opened his mouth again but I cut him off.

“Remember, you promised.”

“Fine,” he swerved into the right lane.

As we turned into the town I saw a sign, ‘Welcome to Silver Springs, Maryland.’

“Ooh, Lindsey, isn’t that a fabulous name?”

“What?”

“Silver Springs, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It sounds super.” I lowered my voice, “It’s a very romantic sounding place. Like an old-fashioned novel.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. I knew he’d respond to that, he always does to that tone of voice. “So where would the old-fashioned lady like to eat?”

“Anywhere, first place you see is fine.”

“Ok,” He drove down Main Street and chose a 50’s style diner.

We got out of the car and before we went in, I stopped him. “Linds, will you please try to make this work? If we can both make an effort, it will. Will you do it, for us?”

I waited for his answer. He just opened his arms inviting me closer. I hugged him tight, “Yes?” I looked up at his eyes.

“Yes,” he buried a kiss in my hair. “Let’s go eat.”

I roll over and grab my journal and pen. I open it and start writing and talking to myself.

“Silver Springs, that is what he was, my one, my love.” You could be my silver springs, my blue-green colours flashing.

“He was head over heels since we met, what happened?”

I would be your only dream, your sparkling autumn, oceans crashing.

“Sparkling?” No, I’d have to fix that.

Don’t say that she’s pretty

“Yeah, that Carol Ann has nothing on me, he thinks he loves her.”

Did you say that she loves you?

“Well, I don’t want to know.”

Baby, I don’t want to know.

“Well, if he can’t love me, I don’t love him. He can watch me run, and know."

So I’ll begin not to love you, turn around, see me running.

“I loved him, but there has been a change."

I said I loved you years ago, but I tell myself, you never loved me. No.

“No, he never did. It was just an illusion. Love was just a state of mind. Well I don’t want to know, what he thinks anyone can do that I can’t.”

Then you tell me, was it worth it?

“Well, I know it wasn’t.”

Baby, I don’t want to know. Time cast a spell on you,

“Yeah it did, he’s changed.”

But you won’t forget me. I know I could have loved you but you would not let me.

“He’ll never forget me, he never will. He will come running back to me, he always does. I could love him, why can’t he be happy with that? Isn’t that enough? But in the end he will hear me every day of his life. Our music, our sound, my voice. He will never get away, I will follow him down till the sound of my voice will haunt him.”

I’ll follow you down till the sound of my voice will haunt you.

“I hope it does, I hope that he hears my voice and that it will bug him to death and he’ll never get away. If he could give me just a chance, he will. He will never get away from the sound of the woman that loves him. His words, he is just a fool. He will look back on this and regret it until the day that he dies.”

Never get away.

I read the words on the page, dabbing at the tears that have formed in my eyes, a by-product of so much rage. The words are too good to let stay on paper. I pull up my chair to my little keyboard and start playing. I make my words into a little song with a little melody. I am ready to go sing it to the group. I want to watch him squirm.


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