Chapter Eleven: The Price of Weak Will

Leaving Cinema was one of the toughest things I’d ever done. But my whole life for the past few years had been full of tough decisions. Quitting my job, blowing up my apartment, screwing a meth head with questionable history, hijacking cars, joining a band, quitting a band… it definitely never got any easier. But after returning to my Alpha Origin point, I needed to store the Sequence Bracer somewhere safe. Once that was taken care of, I decided to take a long drive. I stole a car like the old days and drove down to Florida. I didn’t know where my journey took me next, but my plan was to just let it happen.

A few weeks into my stay, I found myself frequenting a nightclub where Death Metal bands like Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel, and Deicide would play. I got into the scene a bit. Always going to shows and having a few beers. It was nice to ease back into the club scene, but my approach was different this time. I didn’t leap at the first sign of hot ass flashing their lashes at me anymore. I just hung out, listened to the music, and chilled for a bit. I knew that my adventure would start back up soon enough. But before I could go find it, it found me.

Someone in the scene recognized me. One of the stage techs for a band. It was a guy that used to be a roadie for another band that played some shows with Modicum when I was with them. He introduced himself as Zack. He wasn’t sure if it was me at first. When I fessed up to who I was he asked if he could sit down and have a chat with me. So, I invited him to sit down at the table and have a beer.

He said, “Man, you just fell off the face of the earth. Everyone in the Groove scene has been looking for you. Most people think that you’re dead. You just disappeared after that show in San Francisco, and no one ever heard from you again. What gives?”

“I just had something I had to take care of. Life got in the way, and I never made my way back to the boys,” I told him.

“Well, this is crazy finding you here. I’ve got it on good authority that Modicum might be getting back together with or without you, man.”

“Oh yeah, whatever happened to those guys?” I asked.

“Well, Jimmy went on to be a roadie for some other band, so I do see him from time to time. Chris is giving drum lessons back in Reno. Dylan is still there too, but it sucks real bad what happened to him, man. He’s not doing good.”

“What’s going on? Drugs?” I asked

“No man, worse than that,” Zack said.

“Well? Did he get married or something, what the fuck? Just tell me,” I begged.

Zack leaned in close and prepared to tell me the unthinkable, “He moved out of his parents’ house and sells used cars now, man.”

“Oh fuck no, don’t tell me that,” I more than anyone knew the price paid for getting a regular job and trying to make it on your own.

“I know man, it’s shitty,” he pressed on, “but like I said man, Jimmy is interested in getting the band back together. When you disappeared they didn’t have the heart to replace you. But that’s been awhile. Like, over a fuckin year, man. About a month ago, Jimmy found out that some rich kid over in Japan got a hold of that demo you guys recorded in New Jersey and he really liked it. He wants to fly the band to Tokyo and record a full album, then set you guys up on a long tour around the country. Jimmy said it would be hard to pull off because no one knew where you were, but the kid said he’d have some time to think about it. I think Jimmy’s gonna get another bassist, man. Opportunity is knocking.”

“Ha, yeah, who’s he gonna get?” I joked.

“He thought about asking Tommy, the original bassist that you replaced.”

I slammed my beer bottle down on the table right then and there and said, “The guy who falls off stage? No fuckin way. I can’t let him do that. Can you put me in touch with Jimmy?!” I spouted.

“Haha, yeah, man. No problem at all. He just went back to Reno himself to rest after the last tour he was on. We can call him tonight,” Zack said enthusiastically.

So that night, we went outside to a payphone and he called Jimmy and said, “You’ll never believe who I found down in Tampa, man!”

I got on the phone and talked to Jimmy. I told him I’d explain later why I bailed before but that I was good to join the group again and go to Japan. He said that sounded great to him and he knew Chris was in, but it would be difficult to convince Dylan. I told him not to worry, I'd be coming back to Reno and bringing Zack with me.

“Whoa, you are, man?” Zack asked.

I said, “Of course. We’re gonna need you to help as part of our road crew in the land of the rising sun.”

I wanted to just hop through a Dark Space and go straight to Reno, but one, I’d have Zack with me and two, I had already secured the Sequence Bracer in a place that wouldn’t be so easily accessed. The two of us would be taking a flight.

When we got to Reno, we met up with Jimmy and Chris immediately. It was a short but happy reunion. Then the dread set in. Jimmy said he talked to Dylan and told him I was coming back to town, and we could get the band back together. He said Dylan didn’t give the response we wanted. Said he had too many responsibilities nowadays. We needed a plan to get him back into the fold. Dylan was irreplaceable. No vocalist, no record deal.

The three of us spent a few days at the practice space jamming with each other again. It didn’t take long at all for us to get our groove back. It was almost like I had never left. In the meantime, I had Zack running a few errands for us. I had an idea on how we could convince Dylan to join back into the band.

Saturday, March 4th, 1995…a lonely car dealership has only one customer on the lot.

The sales associate is pitching hard to ensure a purchase is made that afternoon. Try as he might, it seems to be getting nowhere. He’s practically throwing himself between the customer and their old car, in which they are about to leave the premises in. He sees his boss, standing in the window of the dealership with his hands on his hips. The pressure is on. Just when it seems like he’s about to finally get through to the customer, they hear a large truck pulling up on the street in front of the lot. The driver is Zack, and it’s a large flatbed carrying Dylan's former bandmates and all their equipment. We immediately bust into our old opening song from the previous tour. Dylan looks at the customer who is now shaking their head. Then he looks at his boss, who is also unimpressed. Finally fed up, he loosens his tie, climbs aboard the flat bed, picks up the microphone and lays into the first verse.

In a matter of minutes, a small crowd started filling the street to come see us play, and midway through our second song, there were two dozen people. By the end of the set, there must’ve been over fifty people. Modicum was back together again!

That night we went out to one of our old haunts for some boozing. The five of us clanked some beers together and we started to reminisce on some old times. Even though I hadn’t been with these guys all that long in the grand scheme of things, it had felt like a whole other past life.

“So, where the fuck did you drop off too any way dude?” Dylan asked me.

Everyone was quiet for a minute before Jimmy answered for me.

“Guy said he wanted all of us to be together before he told us. I guess now’s the time.”

How exactly was I supposed to tell these guys what happened to me? Did I start with the martial arts stuff? How bout the Russian Mafia? Or should I just skip straight to the time travel part?

“So it’s like this guys…” I paused a moment, no fuckin way they’d believe anything I’d say, “...geez. Have you guys had enough beers for this?”

“Come on, just tell us,” Chris prodded

So, I just went for it. I told them everything. Chi control, time traveling Pharaoh mummies, Cinema…all of it. They just sat there with a blank look and listened. When I was finished, I waited a moment for a reaction. Finally, they all started laughing.

“Look guys,” Jimmy said, “If Guy says he’s a time traveling Kung Fu master, I believe him.”

“I didn’t say anything about Kung fu!” I corrected.

They all laughed again. I just shook my head and was about to finish defending myself when someone caught my eye. A tall blonde, with a black leather one piece miniskirt, was standing over by the jukebox. She dropped a quarter in and chose ‘Poison Heart’ by The Ramones. After the song kicked on, she turned and gave me a solid glance. She ran her hands through her hair and shimmied over to the bar.

Jimmy saw me connecting eyes with her and said, “That’s Angie. She was quite the fan of us back in the day but never got to know us if ya know what I mean.”

“Shit bro, she was askin about you when we came back from the tour, Guy,” Chris noted.

Thus far, I had refrained from my old philandering ways, but this chick caught my eye, and my comrades weren’t exactly restraining me. She was like a gothic Kelly Bundy. So I got up from our table and made my way over to the bar and started to talk to her.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She cocked her head to the side and said, “Sure.”

“What would you like?”

“Gin and tonic,” she answered, in a sultry tone.

I ordered the drink for her and just sat back without saying another word until she made a comment.

“That’s it? You’re not going to share a drink with me?”

“Oh, well, I just finished a couple beers with my friends over at the table,” I explained.

“So? You can’t expect me to drink alone if you’re going to buy me a drink. Bartender, add another gin and tonic…no, fuck that. Mix us up some gin and whiskey with a splash of vodka.”

Fear washed over me. Gin, whiskey, and vodka. That was essentially White Lightning. I’d had some beers, some scotch, and a little vodka during my time with the Russians, but I hadn’t touched anything close to Moonshine since I trained with Li. He warned me that I needed to swear off my vice in order to manifest Chi.

“I know that’s your favorite. I remember you always drinking that during your shows,” she smiled and continued, “it’s great to see you and the band back together again. I wish we could’ve gotten to know each other before.”

She put her hand on my leg as the bartender dropped the whiskey glasses in front of us.

That was it. I was sprung. I spent too much time in that car and hanging around the clubs in Tampa without any action. Adventure had not found me yet and I was getting restless. Fuck it, I took a drink.

Angie smiled and chugged back her glass as well. She ordered two more and the two of us started talking about the future of the band. I told her about the Japan ordeal and how we’d be taking Modicum on the road after recording an album. She asked when we’d be back stateside and I told her I didn’t know. That I was kinda at a crossroads where I wasn’t sure what I wanted next but I was gonna go with what was in front of me for the time being. She turned her barstool around towards me and opened her thighs.

“Nothing wrong at all with taking what’s right in front of you,” she said, as she guided my hand up her leg towards her open skirt.

I was starting to feel hazed from the drinks but before I could progress any further, I stopped myself. I pulled my hand away and watched her smile turn to a frown.

“I’m sorry Angie. I can’t explain why, but I just can’t,” I expressed.

Before she could respond, I saw her look over my shoulder and terror strike her face.

“Angie? What the fucks goin on?” a voice coming from the door shouted.

I turned around and saw a buff guy with long, curly, black hair, black leather jacket, and matching jeans standing there. He was flanked by four other guys that didn’t seem to be slouches either.

“Oh shit!” Angie whispered, “That’s my ex-boyfriend, Mark.”

Great. How the hell do I end up in these kinda situations. I’m about to get into a fight over some poon, and I even turned it down already!

“Who’s this piece of shit?” the brute said as he walked up behind me with his lackeys.

I turned around, slightly inebriated but still with it and said the most logical well thought out response I could.

“Excuse me, Mr. Mark. I’m not looking for any trouble tonight. I was just chatting with

Angie and bought her a drink. No harm, no foul.”

I knew if this guy didn’t calm down quickly, I’d end up having to annihilate him and his whole crew.

“Chatting my ass,” he retorted, “I walked in here and saw you with your hand shoved three foot up her pussy. Fuck you!”

He grabbed me by my shoulders and tossed me backwards off my barstool. I hit the ground, back first, and my feet up in the air. It was on now. I jumped straight up, winded back my fist and shouted, “White Lightning!”

Oh shit. Nothing happened. It didn’t take long to realize my mistake. I had indulged my vice again and my connection to Chi was severed. A regular, half hearted punch connected with Mark’s chest and he began kicking the utter shit out of me. Thankfully, the other guys in Modicum and Zack ran over to my aid.

A full blown brawl ensued. The five of us against the five of them. I felt like hell though. I was used to fighting mummies, neo-nazis, and winning for crying out loud! How could I possibly have fallen so far so quickly. Angie was screaming in the corner and the other patrons were scattering as the fight got out of control.

“Just like old times, right, Guy?” Jimmy said to me in the midst of the chaos.

Suddenly, the bartender appeared with a pump action shotgun in hand.

“Enough already!” he yelled, “All you motherfuckers are going to jail!”

That night, we went to the slammer. The cops were smart enough to put my group and the other group in different cells. Other than the odd comment to each other, we mostly stayed cool in there. After a couple hours, one of the guards came out and said our group was getting bailed out.

“Just them? What about us?” Mark asked.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” the guard replied, “the one bailing them out wants to remain anonymous.”

Thank god I was getting out of there before they tried IDing me. Then I would’ve been in real trouble. But now I was dealing with an even worse problem. When, if ever, was my Chi going to come back? I messed up big time breaking my oath. I couldn’t bear facing Master Li after this. At least not until I resolved this on my own. I half expected Li to have been the one to anonymously bail us out. But as we exited the jail, to my surprise, it was Angie!

As she sat on the back of her blue, 1970 Ford Fairlaine convertible, she told us that she convinced the bartender to drop the charges against us since we were minding our own business when Mark’s group came in. She said she’d give all of us a ride home on the condition that I would stay out and chat with her. I agreed, and the four of them squeezed into the back seat while I hopped up front.

Once the others were dropped off, she cruised just outside of town. We parked under the starry night of the desert. I was afraid of what would happen next, because I was serious about my rejection earlier.

“That was brave what you did earlier.” she said.

Confused, I responded, “Brave? I got my fuckin ass kicked.”

“Not that,” she explained, “I’m talking about turning me down. No one’s ever done it before. No matter where I am or what I do, there's guys waiting to pick me up. Some of ‘em I want, some of them I don’t. But you, I wanted you real bad. It honestly was a total shock when you rejected me. If Mark hadn’t walked in, I was gonna double down.”

Here it comes. She was gonna try again. Or so I thought.

“But now that I think about it,” she continued, “I’m done letting myself be chased. Just because someone is pursuing me doesn’t mean I have to be caught. I’m twenty five years old and I’ve got nothing to show for it. Yeah, I guess I could become somebody's trophy wife, but that’s no fun.”

“Angie,” I interrupted, “You’ll do fine no matter what you choose to do. Once you get the spark, it can light any fire you want to start. I know this, because I have that spark.”

“You certainly have a presence, Guy. Everyone you encounter is affected by it. But I do have one question?”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Why exactly did you reject me? You gay or somethin?”

“What? No! God no!” I defended myself, “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But hell no!”

She laughed a little and said, “No, of course you're not. You’ve got someone else you’re holding out for. I can see it.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to her, but she didn’t need anything else from me at that point. She started up the car and took me back to the hotel that Zack and I were staying at. Before I got out of the car, she gave me a little kiss and said, “She’s lucky.”

I went inside the hotel and once I got into the room, I found that Zack was still up.

“Hey yay, what’s up? Did you nail her, man?”

“No, Zack,” I shut him down somberly, “go to sleep.” “Right,” he said before shutting out the light.

The next day, Jimmy got the details ironed out with our rich Japanese fan, Mr. Iwatodai, concerning the studio time and the tour dates. We were to fly to Japan as soon as possible and would get twenty days of studio time and another ten for mixing. Then afterwards, we’d go on a twenty two date tour around Japan, followed by shows in Seoul, Macao, Hong Kong, and Taipei. The album would be released sometime during the tour.

Our accommodations would be paid for, all we had to do was make sure we got to Tokyo by May 1st to start recording. Mr. Iwatodai said it was up to us to get there on our own volition. It would be our test that we weren’t wasting his or our time and were going to make a serious record.

Jimmy suggested we all fly out of Vegas on April 29th, so that we would get there the night before the deadline. I thought about it for a moment, but I had a different idea. I needed some reflection time on my own again.

“Jimmy,” I said, “How about you guys go on the 29th and I’ll meet you there?”

“Huh?”, he replied, “but why? You don’t wanna travel as a band?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” I assured, “It’s just, I’ll be traveling with you guys a lot on this tour and I’d like to take care of some things on my own first.”

Jimmy didn’t seem happy about my decision, but he accepted it.

“Alright,” he sighed, “But I hope this doesn’t mean you’re bailing out on us again!”

“No man, I swear, I’m not. I’ll be there. I promise.”

It was a promise that I sincerely was not interested in breaking. But one in which I would bend.