Whispers In Spring: Chapter Fourteen

Matt took care of getting the samples and sent the five new arrivals in to be with those who’d joined Sandra in the living room. He couldn’t help wondering how many more he would find. Not that it mattered, but he was curious.

So far he had eleven more children. Eleven! He only hoped that there wasn’t one for each state in the Union. Still, it was possible.

He chuckled to himself. So what if there were? He’d been very careless. Of course care is the last thing on one’s mind when they are lonely. And almost everything sane, right, and proper seemed to go by the wayside when they learn their spouse has suddenly decided to run.

He suddenly remembered that he’d spent time while he was mourning doing the same exact thing. Yes, he had slipped into his depression. But he had also had a few more tours, tours he’d refused to cancel thinking they would help him heal. They hadn’t. He was still the same miserable man he’d been when he left.

But he had never gone to countries not on the itinerary either. His last tour ended with him separating from the band for a while and going to Thailand, India and a few other places. Many had been completely off the beaten path, and several had no clue who he was. Nor did they care.

The islands, Several African countries, and many places Americans tended to avoid…except Tibet. He wondered whether he’d done anything on those excursions. If so, he would have been a damn fool. Hell. He’d been a fool anyway.

He remembered that, for at least a year, no one knew where he was. He didn’t want to be found. Just when they thought they’d caught up to him, he vanished into the mists. So to speak.

He couldn’t remember most of those days, they were a haze. But not a drunken one. They had been a haze of activity. He’d spent time in nature for a change. He had spent as much time as he could trying to overcome his guilt, sorrow and pain. But it had been no use.

He’d been so self absorbed, he wouldn’t have noticed if a woman had crawled into his bed. He doubted if he would have noticed them doing anything either. He’d been a mess back then. A total wreck.

Oddly enough, that last concert tour had been 2013. He didn’t return to the States until the winter of 2014. He could have younger children out there without his knowledge! He cursed at himself for being so stupid.

He shook his head to clear it of the uncertainties. No use in thinking about all that. He had no way of knowing how to find those children, if there were any. No use in worrying over them.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the courier service. He waited until someone picked up. “Yes, this is Matt Morrow. I need a courier to run a package to the University Hospital. Yes. anyone but Cowboy. I don’t know his name, I just know he was the one who delivered a package to me. He was dressed in clothes that were too small for him, had a helmet that had an odd shape, and wore a pair of cowboy boots. Yes. No, I don’t mean to offend him, but he really needs to spend more money on clothes. Hell. I would be willing to give him some of my old clothes if it would help him.

“Yes, Salvador will do fine. Thank you.”

He shook his head. That had been the first time he’d ever had to request a courier by rejecting the one they would have sent. They knew his address, of course. They did business with him on a regular basis.

He sat down and waited. Twenty minutes went by before the door bell chimed. He got up and went to answer it. Opening it, he let Salvador in.

The tiny Nicaraguan smiled at him. “I came as queek as I could, meester Morrow.”

He smiled at Salvador. “Thank you.”

His courier nodded. “You’re weelcome. They say you toorned down Freetz.”

Matt looked over at his guest. “Is that the name of the guy I call Cowboy? I never knew.”

Salvador grinned. “Si.”

Matt picked up the package on his desk and handed it to the courier. “Here is the package, Sal. I need you to get it safely to University Hospital. Do not bend, do not toss. And do not break. Understood?”

Salvador nodded again. “Oh, Si, Meester Morrow. It will be as safe as a Keeten. I promeese.”

Matt smiled. He would take Sal’s Hispanic accent over Cowboy’s lack in taste any day. He walked Sal to the door and let him out. “Go safely, now.”

Sal climbed onto his ten-speed and pedaled out of Matt’s drive. Matt closed the door. In thirty minutes, the package would arrive at University. That would be–he glanced at his watch–ten o’clock. Four hours from that would be three.

He turned around and headed back into his office. He already knew the results. He had never doubted for a second. But it was always good to have solid proof when it came down to the very end and he had to decide who got what. The results would speak for themselves and those who were now identifiably his children, unmistakably his own, would be allowed by the courts to receive their share. It had nothing to do with the doubt of his children or brothers. It was all about legal claim.

He wanted to make sure he could properly provide for all in his will. After all, those now coming into the picture had done without him for most of their lives. He owed them more than his children who grew up with him in their lives. He knew that nothing could ever replace what they had lacked growing up, but he hoped to build something of a relationship with them over the coming years.

He was ready to be their father, if they allowed him to be. He would have been so had he known of their existence before now. But he had made a trade. The happiness of all, including himself, for one night of not being lonely.

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2 thoughts on “Whispers In Spring: Chapter Fourteen

    1. yes, he is the quintessential rock star (who knows how many children musicians like Paul Stanley or Mick Jagger, or any of the hundreds of 60s, 70s and 80s bands might have out there…at least those who weren’t gay, anyway.). There was a whole subculture that followed bands on tour, and they weren’t just women/girls. there were male groupies as well. But with the male rockers, all the paternity suits over the past three decades show that the older bands weren’t known for fidelity to their wives, girlfriends, or casual lovers.

      Gene Simmons boasts of sleeping with thousands of women. Jagger was known to have roaming hands and eyes. I am generalizing on Matt’s case. He was supposedly more conservative. Most of the children he knows about are those who were born in his seven marriages. The ones stepping forth are ones he is actively seeking and wanting to make a part of his family. Don’t worry, I will not introduce any from the latter places I mention him vanishing to. He didn’t do anything, even though he can’t remember that year of searching. I threw it in as a memory, not a catalyst for anything.

      Like any man who can’t remember a space in time, he worries excessively over nothing. It is how he is. His being sober has helped him remember otherwise meaningless things, like his vanishing act.

      Amanda is the love of his life. She already knew of his past, being filled in by Egypt. She is willing to accept him, warts and all. And she is willing to accept his children, no matter who their mothers are. She is meant to be a very extraordinary woman.

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