Chapter 3

Or, the last one you get for free. This one is probably more in need of edits than the other one. At least, I've made more edits to it in the course of writing it already.

Chapter 3

It had been a long day, and Jason was enjoying watching his six year old play in the local playground. Alex was enamored of the slide, and equally enamored of having his father watch as he whizzed down the plastic contraption. “Daddy! Daddy! Look!” he’d call, each and every time. Jason would wave, and down Alex would go with a “Weeee!” or a giggling laugh, and then the process would repeat.

The repetition was welcome, though, as it gave Jason time to think about everything. Brian’s complete acquiescence to Bobby’s overtures had given him pause. He hadn’t counted on that one at all, and it had thrown him for a total loop. Most of his bitterness over the years was for how Brian was treated. Now, Brian didn’t seem to even care anymore. That made it incredibly hard for Jason to continue to feel the same way.

Alex called out again, and Jason waved and smiled. Down the slide went Alex, and Jason smiled. Then it hit him. It wasn’t any sense of anger or bitterness that was ultimately holding him back. He had become a different person. He wasn’t rock guitarist Jason Henneman anymore. He was Alex Hennemans’s father. He was holding out because he didn’t want to go on tour and be away from his son.

Kicking up sand in his wake, Alex came running over to the bench, seemingly done with the slide. “Daddy,” he asked, “can we get ice cream now?” Jason smiled and stood up.

“Sure, buddy,” he said, taking his son’s hand, “just don’t tell Mommy we had ice cream before dinner.” They left the park, heading towards the parking lot and the car. Jason had a hard time keeping up with his son, who was still worked up from the playground. They didn’t talk much after Jason started driving to the local ice cream parlor; mostly because Alex was far more interested in changing the radio station every couple of seconds. A snippet of sound caught Jason’s attention. “Hang on, Alex, Daddy wants to hear something,” he said as he flipped the radio dial back to the station Alex had flown by.

“…rumor, really, but with the poor sales of ‘Out of the Box,’ Paige has really been hinting at a possible reunion tour this summer,” the DJ was saying.

“Well, I’m sure he’d love to get Morning Star on the road again,” said the other DJ, as Jason realized this was the drive-time radio show of the popular local rock station, ‘On the Road with Bob and Mike, “those guys were huge when they broke up. But I think the real question is, will it really be Morning Star, or half of the old band? I don’t know what Brian O’Shea thinks about this, but I’ve seen Jason Henneman around, and he’s not exactly Bobby Paige’s biggest fan these days.” Making a turn, Jason groaned slightly.

“Which brings up another point, Mike, that’s been talked about since Morning Star broke up…does Henneman even want to play in a band anymore? Most people were quite surprised when he didn’t immediately show back up on the scene with a new band like Paige did, since most people considered him the best of the bunch. Plus, beyond some local shows where he plays blues standards, he’s been as low key as you can get.”

“Maybe we should get our producers to get Henneman on the show, or even O’Shea. Wouldn’t that be great, get their takes before anything even breaks? We should have their contact numbers since we sponsored that last charity benefit, right?”

“Yeah, let’s get someone on that. I’ll tell you what, though, I know I’d love to see them play ‘Cold Hard Night’ or ‘Raw’ again.”

“You’re aren’t alone, Bob. And on that note, here’s ‘Cold Hard Night’, from 1995’s ‘Sweat Socks.’ Jason grunted and switched the channel to the first preset, none too anxious to hear any Morning Star songs.

“You can find something you want to listen to, buddy,” he said, looking at his son briefly, “but we’re almost to the ice cream shop.”

“They were talking about you, Daddy!” Alex chirped. “Jason Hennemanan. That’s you, Jason.”

“That’s ‘Daddy’ to you, kiddo. And our name is Henneman, not Hennemanan.”

“That’s what I said, Daddy. Henneman-anan,” he said, grinning widely. Jason chuckled, and turned his car in to the parking lot of the ice cream parlor. “What were they saying about you, Daddy?”

Jason found a spot, and put the car in to park. “They were wondering if I was going to play music again.” He reached over and unbuckled his son’s seatbelt. “Come on, out of the car.” He got out and went around to where Alex was only then opening the door. He took his son by the hand and closed the door behind him, walking towards the parlor door.

“Why wouldn’t you play music again, Daddy?” Alex said with a plaintive look on his face. Jason sighed inwardly as he held the door open for his son. He secretly wished this whole situation could be as easy as it was in little Alex’s mind. As far as he was concerned, his dad was a rock star. There was no decision to be made, no wondering if it was really something a responsible family man would do, no speculation on whether or not he could actually get his thirty-five year old body ready for the grind of a tour. Daddy was a rock star, and that’s all there was to it.

As he sat and watched his son work his particular magic on a fudge ripple cone, he thought back to how easy things were eighteen years ago when he and Bobby had first formed the band. Though back then they had called themselves The Four Cylinders. Jason wasn’t even remotely thinking about kids. Hell, he was a kid, about to graduate high school. He wasn’t looking down the road to eight years later when the band would implode, and he would meet Ann a few weeks later. In fact, he was only looking forward to shredding on stage and meeting girls.

By the time his reverie of the past was broken, he had Alex back to the house. As they entered, Alex ran up to his mother. “Guess what Mommy! Daddy’s a rock star!”

“Is he now,” she asked, a grin on her face.

“Yeah, and we had ice cream!”

Jason groaned and to avoid his wife’s disapproving eyes, looked down at Alex. “You traitor.”