ROCKS ON THE ROAD ... Short piece of fiction inspired by Jethro Tull

It was getting close to midnight and we’d just finished the second to last concert of the first leg of the tour. Instead of heading back to the hotel with the rest of the band and crew I felt like taking a walk. It was only a short distance from the auditorium; I figured it would be quite a pleasant walk across the wharf and down Main St.

I put on my jacket, wrapped my neck with the silken scarf I’d just gotten and took off. The night was still; the view of the starry sky above the bay made me feel petty. It was chilly so I picked up the pace to a brisk walk. I passed a few gates which seemed to be storage rooms; right at the very end of the alley there was a black cat down on the quayside. Ship's lights that resembled green eyes watching my every move were glowing in the dark. Two young cops were handing out a beating to an old homeless, it was clear they knew how to hurt and leave no mark. I was fear stricken, I put my head down and moved as quickly as I could; I needed to get to the hotel as soon as possible. I had two more miles to go according to my navigation system.

When I walked through the revolving doors I felt safe. It was warm inside and I had to find a way to calm down a bit. Nothing beats a scotch on the rocks for this. No sooner had I taken a seat down in the half-lit bar of the hotel when there was a call for the last round of the day. I ordered two whiskies and drank them in one sip, one right after the other. Depressive thoughts flooded my mind, my life had no purpose; it was only my fans that had some sympathy for me. I had no one to go back to; I didn’t even have a place I could call home.   

I left a fifty on the table and pushed back the stool, ready to take that elevator ride. My suite was on the sixteenth floor. When I got to the room I was feeling a bit dizzy.  I fell in bed and kicked my shoes away wondering why I felt like that. Was it me or was it the drinks, or maybe it was the number of rocks on the road along the way.

It wasn´t easy to sleep through the wild sounds of the city. My head was pounding, my eyes were itchy and I was sweating. I stood up and turned off the heating, I walked by the window and heard a car full of young boys; it seemed to me they were heading for a fight. Once again I felt I wanted to call her and apologize to her; I needed her to know how much I regretted my life. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. The long distance telephone kept ringing out engaged; I couldn’t help but wonder who she was talking with tonight. “Who are you talking with tonight, bitch?” I was beside myself with anger. How many more rocks on the road would I need to face. I opened the mini bar and drank all I could until I eventually passed out.

My head felt as if it was about to burst. There was that annoying hammering in my head again; it was some tired plumbing that woke me in the morning. I dragged myself out of bed and crawled towards the toilet. In between moans I threw up all I had in my stomach. I realized what was going on with the plumbing, the shower ran hot and then cold, playing with me.

In my head I started repeating those mantras my analyst suggested for times like this, “I'm up for the down side”, “life's a bitch” and all that stuff. They worked, I was again ready for my agent to come and shake some apples from my tree. First I had to pay for my minibar madness and the itemized phone bill overload. I needed to get this money back, I was in the red, I wasn’t being given any royalty for my songs or my performances, at least not until I came over my addictions. I went down to the casino; I thought some heavy rolling might help me move these rocks on the road. It wasn’t open yet. It would be one more hour before I could roll the dice.

Although I wasn’t feeling hungry I headed for the restaurant. The place was packed so I was offered an individual table by the windows. There were crumbs on the breakfast table and a couple of dirty coffee mugs; apparently they were short handed or maybe they hadn’t expected such a turn up. I knew there would be a million other little things to spoil my day, but there was only one thing to make me happy.

I put on my headphones and chose my early morning jazz playlist. Now how about a little light music to chase it all away? I had everything I needed, coffee, a cigar and my music to chase it all away, ready to face up to whatever laidahead of me.

If you want to listen to the song that inspired the story here's the link 

And here's a link to the original lyrics