-
Eternal Wings
Under Pressure
-
Written by Anja Geenen
Chapter Five
John was sitting in his plane to home. Finally he felt like thinking
again. For weeks he hadn't thought about anything. His mind was blank
when he left his family, his friends and his work behind. He was so
messed up and everything around him looked even more messed up. For
weeks he couldn't think, couldn't feel. For a few weeks he even
thought he was going crazy. He had to escape from all the misery
around him, from the feeling he couldn't do anything right. He had a
few bad fights with the people he loves and all those fights were his
fault. He knew they were his fault. He was touchy, anything which
sounded just a little bit wrong to John pissed him off and the worst
of it was he caused all these problems, or many anyway. He knew he
was touchy, but he couldn't help it. The pressure was enormous and
John felt like falling a million miles down in a fast way. Everything
he tried to grab slipped away and everything he was holding slipped
away with it too. He felt like he was losing everything and everybody
close to him and everything that was important to him. He sighed and
looked back at it, he was ashamed about it, he never meant to hurt
anybody.
* * *
When John had left the house his mind was blank and his feet just
walked away from everything. He didn't feel like talking to anyone,
he only wanted to leave. He headed to the airport and flew away with
the first plane he found. He hadn't cared for taking anything with
him, the only belongings he carried with him was a small bag with
cloths and the things he was holding when he left. He had left so
suddenly that he even hadn't found the time to check what was in the
bag, he simply grabbed it and went away, it was still packed from the
tour with Queen. He still couldn't think when he was sitting in the
plane, flying to anywhere. He was trembling with the feeling of anger
and fear, his eyes staring into the space before him, noticing
nothing at all. His world was turning around him and he felt sick and
tired. He wanted to cry like a little boy while his mother was
holding him and comforting, telling him everything was going to be
alright again. But he still felt to angry to cry, though he didn't
know why he was angry. Was he angry because of what people had said
to him? Or was he angry with himself or the whole situation? His
whole life looked like a great dissappointment and mess. For nothing
there was a solution, John couldn't find any. It all looked too
difficult, and it felt like it had no use trying to solve anything.
His muscles in his body were tensed, his brains were mixing all his
thoughts up and his mixed emotions were running through his body and
caused even more tension. John felt weak and sick, didn't dare to
talk to anybody and was even more frightened of being recognised. He
hid himself in his chair trying not to think or to feel. He fell
asleep while the thoughts kept running through his head, while the
emotions made a mess of his feelings, losing every sense of feeling.
He slept the whole flight.
* * *
When he awoke they were in another country. People around him were
getting there belongings and leaving the plane. John felt pain in his
whole body. For a while he even couldn't stand or walk. His mind was
now completely blank. Thinking nothing, feeling nothing he grabbed
the few belongings he had and left the plane. Without thinking of
what to do next he walked, meeting people, talking without knowing
what he was saying or what other people said. He felt like he was
living in a dream. The air was red and purple coloured by the sun,
the air he breathed tasted sweet and the smell was soft and warm.
People brought him to places, were talking to him, tried to figure
out what this man was doing or going to. No-one recognised him as the
bassplayer of Queen, they only tried to figure out where this man was
coming from and where he was going to. Finally they put him in a taxi-
cab and he was brought to a hotel. The first John did was letting his
belongings falling to the floor and let himself fall on the bed. He
closed his eyes again and fell asleep.
* * *
When he was woken by a nice smiling girl his feelings and thoughts
were coming back. He tried to get the girl outside his room, he
needed time and rest to think and he wanted to do that all on his
own. He sat there for hours on his bed, not noticing the time
slipping away. He felt really stupid, he tried to think clearly about
what had happen the last few weeks. Suddenly he realised he had left
everything behind without telling anybody where he was going to and
when he was coming back. Nobody knew where he was. He could imagine
how worried Veronica must be. He realised as well his children had
see him running out, and he felt even worse about the whole
situation. How could he be so stupid? He knew he had to call, he had
to call Veronica to tell her he was alright. He grabbed the phone and
felt his courage sinking in his shoes and he put the phone back in
place. He sat again, not enough courage to call home, not enough
courage to face the truth. He was afraid of what was coming. He felt
very vulnerable and lonely, though he knew he had chosen to be
alone, far away from home. His body was hurting, his muscles still
tensed and his brains working over time. He tried to think of what to
do next. He had to call Veronica, but what would he tell her, that he
left them alone? Veronica probably already noticed he was gone. He
figured that she must be mad, by thinking this his courage
disappeared completely. Now he felt very stupid, vulnerable and
lonely. He felt tears coming up, ooh god, what to do now? He fought
his tears and his fears, grabbing the phone again and putting it back
after a moment of two of hesitation. No, he had to think first. He
had to think about why he left, what he felt and about what he was
going to say to Veronica when he was going to call her. He sat back
on his bed, pulling his legs up and staring to the wall in front of
him. John didn't know where to start to work out this situation and
his brains were making a mess of it again. After a while he was to
confused again for thinking clear and he gave up. He closed his eyes
again, feeling how tired he still was and floating away on a dream...
* * *
"Use your brains for fuck sake!!!" Brian yelled at John. John wanted
to yell something back, but his throat ws filled with thick creamy
fear. He opened his mouth and tried to give a yell for help. No sound.
It frightened John immensely. Helpless he looked at Brian. Brian kept
on yelling at him, not seeing the fear in John's eyes. John was trying to move. His feet seemed to be glued to the floor. The air was pressing across his chest. When Brian was finally finished with swearing at John, he looked the bassman in the eyes. Then he laughed almost hysterically and told John he was no good. John felt tears coming up. He couldn't move, he could hardly breath, he was alone now. He tried to free himself, writhing to get
free. He finally could turn so he did, facing Veronica as he turned.
Her eyes were filled with tears and anger, she was yelling at him as
well but John couldn't hear her but he knew what she was yelling at
him. Just like Brian before Veronica told John he was no good. Although he couldn't hear her, he felt her cold words falling down on him. The next moment he was outside. The world turning around him and the sounds soothing in his ear. He felt dizzy and he was afraid. Everything was slipping away from his grip. He felt he was losing, he didn't know where he was going to. He heard people yelling at him everywhere, the noise from the airport. People yelling; You're no good!!! John tried to yel for help again, tears streaming from his eyes. Ooh god, what was happening? The world was fading away and it threw John through the universe. It was completely dark around him and the sudden silence was frightening. Nobody was there to help John,
he had to do it all alone. It felt like he was floating there in the
dark and silence for ages, not meeting anyone, no sound to be heard.
It was cold and John was shivering with the cold and the fear. He
thought, they were all right, I'm no good. I'm doing everything
wrong. I'm hurting all the people I love and I'm losing them. John
didn't want to lose, nothing and nobody. The reality hit him, sucking all his courage out of him. The universe and his guilt was throwing him around, faster and faster. Then he was falling, he was falling a million miles down. It looked like there was never coming an end to his fall. His hands were grabbing for any stability but everything he could grab slipped away again or was just air. His fall came to an end and John fell back into reality with a shock. He was shivering and cold and wet with sweat. He sat up looking around in the room, the room was dark. John felt lonely again and the fear he already knew came back to him. The cold silence of the room seemed to underline his loneliness. If he was losing everything like in his dreamc John didn't want that, he would not let it happen. He went in search for the phone again but pushed it away as far as possible
when he found it. He sweared at himself, you stupid idiot, you weak
dumb bastard. John sighed desperately. His whole body felt weak and
heavy, and the world hadn't stopped turning around him. John couldn't
think of doing anything then lying down again but he was afraid of
sleeping. That dream had blamed him, and that hurts. He had to fight back to the light.
* * *
A few days later John was finally able to do anything else than just
lying on bed. Still all he did was thinking. Anything that happened
knocked him out of balance. He was still not able to think straight
or to do what he has to do. He still felt very vulnerable. Nothing
seemed to make sense to him. The time was still flowing away and John
was still alone, still thinking of what happened and what had to
happen. In all those days nothing really happened. He couldn't make
sense of anything. He wanted to forget everything and everybody and
just live his life in peace. Or... he didn't know anymore what he
wanted. He wanted to go back to his youth when everything was still
simple and happy. He had to fight moments of confusing. He was
wondering how someone could be so lonely, he was now. He didn't want
to be lonely. If he wanted everything back he once owned he had to
fight, but he couldn't fight anymore, or didn't want to. He needed
rest and peace to think. He had that rest and peace but still
couldn't think. He had no rest inside him. It was this way for a long
time now, it was not the way he was born. He was no talker, he was a
thinker but even thinking was hard now. Queen had turned him into a
restless man. Or was it the situation. Sometimes he thought he could
think straight but all kind of thoughts came to him confusing him
again and knocking him back. This made him feel tired and weak.
Everything had to change but John didn't know how to change anything
or how to start the change, it all looked so difficult.
* * *
The run through for the show. John couldn't put up with Brian and
Roger and he caused the difficulty Freddie had to put up. Freddie was
getting very annoyed by it. John didn't feel like playing but he knew
he had to, this run through was necessary. John stood with his back
to the stage, not facing Freddie who was annoyed and irritated. John
was just doing something, not really playing. He heard Roger
counting: 3...4...! Silence. John didn't know which song they were
starting and decided to come in when he found out what song.
Wrong. "John! What the hell are you doing!!??" Freddie yelled across
the stage. John turned and saw Freddie, a furious blush on his face,
this didn't looked too good. Then John looked at Brian who helped him
out; "Under Pressure John." Sure, under pressure, John thought. He
turned back to his old position with his back to the others. He could
only see Spike, their musical helping hand everywhere on stage. Spike
sat with his back to the piano, facing John. Spike could see the
difficulty John had of playing his bass. This was nothing like John.
John used to be a great bassplayer, solid, you could always rely on
his playing. But not that day. John wasn't that solid and was leaning
on Roger's beat. As soon Roger left the beat and did something John
didn't expect, John was lost helping the others to another break and
stopping the song abruptly again. It pissed Freddie off and even
Brian, who was always very patient with John, was annoyed. Brian
wasn't used to John being so not concentrated. After that John had
ruined a song again, Freddie stormed off the stage commenting he
couldn't work with these stupid idiots. "Thank you John." Brian
commented. "Couldn't you try to just get your concentration here? It
isn't that hard, is it? Or are you really that bad player?" John got
mad and yelled back at Brian something he couldn't remember. He only
knew he had said a few nasty things to Brian, and that Brian had
stormed away, furious. Somebody else told him he'd better calm down
before he faced the other bandmembers again.
John sighed remembering this again. His concentration was bad that
day and he was touchy. Now he felt bad about it. He had to make a few
apologises to certain people he pissed of that day.
John didn't want to think about that again and he decided to go out
of the hotel. He hadn't done that yet, he had only seen his room the
last few days. Life was starting again, slowly but surely. John came
back alive and started searching for his own self.
* * *
A few weeks had flown away when finally John decided he had to call
home. He felt he had enough courage now to call Veronica and face the
first reality of life again. He sat down after the call. It was
harder than he thought. Veronica was mad, she had reason to be, but
it frightened John a bit. He really didn't want to lose her. He felt
tears coming into his eyes and couldn't hold them back anymore. He
missed Veronica and the children. It was good he finally called her.
He had said everything he wanted and had to say to her, but he had
said a few things he regret. He hoped Veronica understood a little
better why he had left. Veronica had hit him with the question if
John had thought about leaving Queen. John hadn't thought about it
because he didn't want to quit Queen, he explained Veronica why. He
lay back on his bed, thinking about what was said and what was
expected from him. He had to make decisions, or to think about
solutions. First he had to make clear to himself what had happened,
what the problems where and where it all started. Then it was time
for solutions and decisions. John had a lot thinking to do and he
finally started working it out.
* * *
John was sitting on a terrace watching the people passing by. Finally
he saw the light of the world again. After he had figured everything
out he was perfectly calm. He had written everything down and had a
list of all the problems with the solutions he found for it. The
conclusion of his research was as expected, too much pressure. John
had decided to chose for his family, but he wouldn't quit Queen,
which meant the most attention would go to his family and the band
came second. Another decision he took was that he wouldn't let the
press get to him again, he would do anything to protect his family
from the press. The last decision he took was that if the pressure
would get to him again he would take the rest and peace he needed,
which probably meant leaving the country with his family and taking
no notice of the band. He knew it was hard to do, but it had to be
this way. He watched a family nearby. The parents sitting, drinking,
talking and enjoying the peace and their children. The children
playing, running around and making a whole lot of noise. It was too
quiet on his hotelroom, and it was too cold too. John needed the
warmth from his family again, even the noise of his children he
missed. John was ready to go back home again.
* * *
Now he was sitting in the plane thinking of the past few weeks
without his family, without the band, but with the loneliness and
confusement. Those weeks weren't the best he had ever experienced and
he was longing for his family and friends, fair enough he had missed
them all. Half dreaming of being home he watched the clouds passing
by. He saw the faces of the people nearest to him in the clouds,
reaching out to them and quietly moaning when his hands touched the
glass, he couldn't touch them, not yet.
John had thought about excuses he had to give to people. The first
excuse to the band for leaving them down a few times while playing.
The second excuse for leaving without telling the bands management
where he went to or when he was coming back. And the last excuse to
his wife and children for leaving them alone and not letting them
know where he was and if he was alright. He also had to tell
everybody why he left. He would tell them his solutions for it, that
he has thought about it and he would promise it would never ever
happen again.
One thing he was absolutely not allowed to forget, he had to tell his
family he loved them very much and he didn't want to lose them, that
he couldn't live without them. It was all very important to make his
life a success, he would never allow himself anymore to sink that deep
again. John was back on earth.
* * *
The plane had arrived Heathrow airport, London. John couldn't wait
for the plane on the ground and doors opened for the passengers to
leave the plane. He wanted to feel his family nearby, in his arms. He
watched the ground coming near, pinned back in his chair by the
seatbelt.
The Deacon family was waiting down on the ground for the husband and
father to step out of the plane. They saw the plane coming down. The
family held their breath when the doors were opened and the people
were coming out of the plane. The children longing for the father
they had to miss much too long and the mother behind them, happy to
have her husband back at home. It took all too long, and it seemed
the plane was almost empty but the expected man wasn't in it, or was
he?
|