July 8th, 1970
The last note echoed
through the venue, Dale shouting “good night!” before they left the
stage. Throngs of hyped fans tried to push past the hired security to
get into the backstage area but were kept back.
We were all excited tonight, not only because the show had been a roaring one and bode well for the rest of the English tour, but because we had hotel rooms booked for the night. With everyone too excited with the prospect of sleeping in a bed instead of a reclined coach seat, we didn’t linger backstage as usual.
I would have been happy with a budget motel, so when we entered the nondescript and clean hotel and went to our respective rooms, I was still pleased.
I took my shoes off before going through our small suitcase of overnight necessities. I went into the washroom to brush my teeth and then my hair, and took my bra off with a happy groan before I changed into a nightshirt and walked back into the room.
Cameron was sitting at the small desk placed against the wall. He was barefoot, his shirt unbuttoned, and was heavily focused on something. I walked up to him and put my hands on his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” My hands began to massage him firmly and he leaned back against the chair. “You have weed?” I asked excitedly, seeing what he was doing. “What a fun surprise!”
“I thought you’d think so,” he said with a laugh. “Your hands feel really good.”
I continued the massage as he continued to roll, eventually three joints were ready and we pulled the room’s two chairs closer to the window and sat down.
“Did you enjoy the show tonight?” Cameron lit the joint and took a haul.
“Immensely,” I answered. He passed it to me and I took a puff. “I can see and feel Willie seething when your solos get a better reaction than his.” I let out a laugh that turned into a cough, but Cameron laughed too.
“So can I,” he admitted. “Willie, he’s… he’s been through a lot. He works his feelings out on that guitar.”
“Everyone’s been through a lot,” I retorted. “Not much in life is easy.”
We passed the joint back and forth for a few minutes in silence, save for some coughs, until Cameron spoke again.
“I dreamt last night.”
“What about?” I snuck a glance at him and saw the look of contemplation on his face.
“Celeste.”
My eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “What happened in the dream?”
Cameron took a puff and handed it back to me. “I was walking on a street lined with houses; she was a few feet ahead of me. I didn’t recognize anything around me, but I walked with purpose and eventually I stopped in front of one of the houses.” He paused for a moment. “It was made of brick, I remember. A pale front door, shutters on the windows. An old fence separating it from the other houses.”
Cameron’s words sent a shudder through me, but I didn’t say a word and let him continue speaking.
“Celeste disappeared, and I remember thinking that I should go inside and investigate. The front door was unlocked, but the house was mostly bare,” he elaborated while he stubbed the joint out in the ashtray.
I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on the window sill.
“I walked into another room, there were broken dishes and… debris on the floor. In the corner, there was a small toy.” Cameron made a gesture with his hands to show me the size of the toy he’d seen. “It was a doll, now that I think about it. In a red dress.”
“Were the walls yellow?” I asked in a whisper. I could feel the wetness on my cheeks and hoped Cameron hadn’t noticed.
He nodded. “Yes. My love, are you alright?” Cameron took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.
I looked at him and saw the worry in his eyes. “1725 Howard Street. That was the address.” Another flow of tears silently escaped.
Cameron shifted closer to me and gently touched my cheek with his hand. “You know the address?” he asked, a worried confusion on his face.
“I grew up in that house.”
After a few minutes of talking through tears and reassurances from Cameron, we were able to make semi-sense of his dream. The house he had seen was the one I had lived in for the first sixteen years of my life. It had been the roof over our heads for myself, Liliane, and our mother, and the arena of anger for our father.
“Me and my sister shared that room. The yellow walls were our way of trying to brighten things up.”
“The broken plates?” Cameron asked softly.
I nodded. “Thrown against the wall. Mom would clean up after he’d leave. She wasn’t sick for long, at the end, but by then it was me who swept up the pieces.”
Cameron pulled me off the chair and onto his lap. With his arms tight around me I felt safe, but reliving my past was a challenge.
“You’re safe now, Emily,” he murmured.
My eyes watered once more and I closed them, fighting back the urge to bawl. “I used to pretend that that doll came from a family like mine. I would tell myself that if she turned out okay, so would I.”
Cameron kissed my hand softly. “And you have, sweetheart,” he told me.
I opened my eyes and saw he was watching me. His eyes held a tender look and he smiled ever so slightly.
“You’ve risen above it. The only way, now, is up.”
We spent the next hour in near silence, laying on the bed. The lamp on the desk was still on but it wasn’t the reason I couldn’t sleep; the conversation we’d had earlier was still raw in my mind. I turned to face Cameron and smiled despite myself; he looked so serene.
“Still thinking?” he whispered, startling me.
“You’re awake?”
He nodded and opened his eyes.
“I’m still thinking,” I admitted.
“I know, my love.” Cameron pulled me closer to him and planted my face with soft kisses. “Come, there’s still one rolled.”
We slowly got out of bed and went back to the window. Our chairs were still there, so we sat and I lit the small joint.
“It’s Manchester next, right?”
“Yes. It’s not a long drive, only two hour or so. We’ll leave sometime around mid-day,” he answered. “Friday, not tomorrow.”
I nodded and we exchanged the joint for a few minutes.
“I still find it really odd that you dreamt of that house,” I blurted. I’d meant to put the subject to rest, but it wouldn’t go away that easily.
“I’m not, in a way,” Cameron told me. “I’ve dreamt of you before; I’ve seen places in my sleep and not recognized them until I happened to be there months later. Years, sometimes.”
“Still odd,” I said. “Maybe you should ask Celeste if she’ll burn that house down,” I laughed.
Cameron chuckled and took the last puff before stubbing it out. “Come,” he said as he stood. “I have something for you.”
I took his left hand in my right, his right going to my waist. “What are we doing?” I asked with a small giggle. I put my other hand on his cheek and kissed him, our lips lingering.
“Your letters are ribbons,” he cooed, “which tie me to you…”
His words put a smile on my face that grew larger when he began to sway us in a tight circle.
“There’s a secret in my heart, only revealed when we’re two…” he sang softly. “I’m glad of this, I'm so thankful. My soul’s amiss when I’m without you…”
“Cameron,” I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear it myself. He smiled and kissed my forehead before continuing his song.
“I long to stay in your arms, for as long as I can.” Cameron kissed me softly once more, his lips inches from mine as he finished his ballad. “I'll always be your man.”
We were all excited tonight, not only because the show had been a roaring one and bode well for the rest of the English tour, but because we had hotel rooms booked for the night. With everyone too excited with the prospect of sleeping in a bed instead of a reclined coach seat, we didn’t linger backstage as usual.
I would have been happy with a budget motel, so when we entered the nondescript and clean hotel and went to our respective rooms, I was still pleased.
I took my shoes off before going through our small suitcase of overnight necessities. I went into the washroom to brush my teeth and then my hair, and took my bra off with a happy groan before I changed into a nightshirt and walked back into the room.
Cameron was sitting at the small desk placed against the wall. He was barefoot, his shirt unbuttoned, and was heavily focused on something. I walked up to him and put my hands on his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” My hands began to massage him firmly and he leaned back against the chair. “You have weed?” I asked excitedly, seeing what he was doing. “What a fun surprise!”
“I thought you’d think so,” he said with a laugh. “Your hands feel really good.”
I continued the massage as he continued to roll, eventually three joints were ready and we pulled the room’s two chairs closer to the window and sat down.
“Did you enjoy the show tonight?” Cameron lit the joint and took a haul.
“Immensely,” I answered. He passed it to me and I took a puff. “I can see and feel Willie seething when your solos get a better reaction than his.” I let out a laugh that turned into a cough, but Cameron laughed too.
“So can I,” he admitted. “Willie, he’s… he’s been through a lot. He works his feelings out on that guitar.”
“Everyone’s been through a lot,” I retorted. “Not much in life is easy.”
We passed the joint back and forth for a few minutes in silence, save for some coughs, until Cameron spoke again.
“I dreamt last night.”
“What about?” I snuck a glance at him and saw the look of contemplation on his face.
“Celeste.”
My eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “What happened in the dream?”
Cameron took a puff and handed it back to me. “I was walking on a street lined with houses; she was a few feet ahead of me. I didn’t recognize anything around me, but I walked with purpose and eventually I stopped in front of one of the houses.” He paused for a moment. “It was made of brick, I remember. A pale front door, shutters on the windows. An old fence separating it from the other houses.”
Cameron’s words sent a shudder through me, but I didn’t say a word and let him continue speaking.
“Celeste disappeared, and I remember thinking that I should go inside and investigate. The front door was unlocked, but the house was mostly bare,” he elaborated while he stubbed the joint out in the ashtray.
I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on the window sill.
“I walked into another room, there were broken dishes and… debris on the floor. In the corner, there was a small toy.” Cameron made a gesture with his hands to show me the size of the toy he’d seen. “It was a doll, now that I think about it. In a red dress.”
“Were the walls yellow?” I asked in a whisper. I could feel the wetness on my cheeks and hoped Cameron hadn’t noticed.
He nodded. “Yes. My love, are you alright?” Cameron took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.
I looked at him and saw the worry in his eyes. “1725 Howard Street. That was the address.” Another flow of tears silently escaped.
Cameron shifted closer to me and gently touched my cheek with his hand. “You know the address?” he asked, a worried confusion on his face.
“I grew up in that house.”
After a few minutes of talking through tears and reassurances from Cameron, we were able to make semi-sense of his dream. The house he had seen was the one I had lived in for the first sixteen years of my life. It had been the roof over our heads for myself, Liliane, and our mother, and the arena of anger for our father.
“Me and my sister shared that room. The yellow walls were our way of trying to brighten things up.”
“The broken plates?” Cameron asked softly.
I nodded. “Thrown against the wall. Mom would clean up after he’d leave. She wasn’t sick for long, at the end, but by then it was me who swept up the pieces.”
Cameron pulled me off the chair and onto his lap. With his arms tight around me I felt safe, but reliving my past was a challenge.
“You’re safe now, Emily,” he murmured.
My eyes watered once more and I closed them, fighting back the urge to bawl. “I used to pretend that that doll came from a family like mine. I would tell myself that if she turned out okay, so would I.”
Cameron kissed my hand softly. “And you have, sweetheart,” he told me.
I opened my eyes and saw he was watching me. His eyes held a tender look and he smiled ever so slightly.
“You’ve risen above it. The only way, now, is up.”
We spent the next hour in near silence, laying on the bed. The lamp on the desk was still on but it wasn’t the reason I couldn’t sleep; the conversation we’d had earlier was still raw in my mind. I turned to face Cameron and smiled despite myself; he looked so serene.
“Still thinking?” he whispered, startling me.
“You’re awake?”
He nodded and opened his eyes.
“I’m still thinking,” I admitted.
“I know, my love.” Cameron pulled me closer to him and planted my face with soft kisses. “Come, there’s still one rolled.”
We slowly got out of bed and went back to the window. Our chairs were still there, so we sat and I lit the small joint.
“It’s Manchester next, right?”
“Yes. It’s not a long drive, only two hour or so. We’ll leave sometime around mid-day,” he answered. “Friday, not tomorrow.”
I nodded and we exchanged the joint for a few minutes.
“I still find it really odd that you dreamt of that house,” I blurted. I’d meant to put the subject to rest, but it wouldn’t go away that easily.
“I’m not, in a way,” Cameron told me. “I’ve dreamt of you before; I’ve seen places in my sleep and not recognized them until I happened to be there months later. Years, sometimes.”
“Still odd,” I said. “Maybe you should ask Celeste if she’ll burn that house down,” I laughed.
Cameron chuckled and took the last puff before stubbing it out. “Come,” he said as he stood. “I have something for you.”
I took his left hand in my right, his right going to my waist. “What are we doing?” I asked with a small giggle. I put my other hand on his cheek and kissed him, our lips lingering.
“Your letters are ribbons,” he cooed, “which tie me to you…”
His words put a smile on my face that grew larger when he began to sway us in a tight circle.
“There’s a secret in my heart, only revealed when we’re two…” he sang softly. “I’m glad of this, I'm so thankful. My soul’s amiss when I’m without you…”
“Cameron,” I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear it myself. He smiled and kissed my forehead before continuing his song.
“I long to stay in your arms, for as long as I can.” Cameron kissed me softly once more, his lips inches from mine as he finished his ballad. “I'll always be your man.”
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