June 6th, 1967
Myrtle and the Sopor Torpors were an up and coming band on the horizon; we were nobodies when Ez introduced us to them. Myrtle, Gene, Martin, and Cathrine. They took us on as an opener to their gigs and showed us what we were missing from our own band. So to say they helped us is an understatement. Heartlocked for that short time didn’t feel so small. And then they went. Ez got them a record deal, and they went off to tour. In my honest opinion I never really expected to see them again. I didn’t think… That would actually be true. But here we are, Sherry and I on our way to the funeral, albeit running unfortunately a bit late. We’re both bad judges of time, but he would never admit it. Arriving at the church, I park my vespa rather abruptly into a space and pull off my parka in a hurry. Shoving it into the saddlebag, I turn to Sherry.
“Not too late, there’s still some people coming in.” I take off my helmet and fix up my hair a little, trying to be presentable.
“I guess…” Sherry’s sour tone makes me frown. There’s nothing I can say that would make us feel any better about this.
“Your tie’s crooked.”
“Oh, ah… Thanks.” Sherry fixes it in a dazed manner.
I sigh and look back to the large chapel doors. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
The two of us make our way inside, a bit relieved to find that the service hasn’t begun quite just yet. I glance around the spacious hall, the religious iconography littered about. We approach the pews, and beyond them sit three caskets. I catch their sight and immediately avert my gaze with a lurch in my stomach. Not right now, not… I glance over to the people seated and see Myrtle.
“Sherry, over here.” I turn back to him only to see him fixated on the caskets. I approach and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey-” Before I can say anything else I notice everyone’s already sat down. I tug on Sherry’s shoulder and he snaps out of it. We slip into the row Myrtle is sitting in, but Sherry trips and shoves a hand in my back, pushing me over to her side of the pew. I barely catch myself in time and shoot him a dirty look as he sits down on his side, looking back at me with an apologetic grimace.
“Oh, you can sit by me.” Myrtle catches my attention with a soft tone, one barely held together.
“T-thanks.” I say in return, and take my seat next to her. I glance over, taking in her sight. Those warm auburn eyes look so dull and reddened from her tears. I can tell she’s holding it all back with sharp breaths. She catches my stare and gives me a pained smile. I look away onto the line of caskets, and I’m hit with a sobering reality yet again. I knew these people, I played alongside them. They helped Sherry and me get up on our feet. Now they’re… Gone.
I stifle a sob, my hand instinctively pressing into my mouth. God. God fucking damnit. The reality hits me like a goddamned freight train and I barely keep it together. The priest calls everyone into prayer, and I watch as many others close their eyes and clasp their hands together. The prayer ends with a resounding amen from everyone, and the priests bring out their incense and water to do that thing they do with the caskets. I’ve never understood it completely, and I’m not sure the late Sopor Torpors did either. In any case, it felt more for their families peace of mind. My own thoughts glaze over during the eulogy, and everything melds together through the personal stories from the family members.
The pallbearers come to take the caskets to their respective herses, and the service adjourns. The rest of us filter out of the church, each of the families and friends following in suit. Myrtle turns to me as I stand, her voice even softer. “Thank you, Nickie. I didn’t know if you would be able to make it.”
I hold out my hand to her and help her up. “You can thank Ez for that.”
She scoffs. “Of course he’d have something to do with it. Then you probably already heard, I’m done.”
“Yeah.”
“I just. I’ll never be able to make music again. Not without them. That was our sound, now it’s not even mine anymore, it’s all gone.” Her voice cracks, her eyes welling up with tears again. “I need a moment, but can you stay here with me?”
“Sure.” I look around to find Sherry. Catching his attention, I motion him over to me. “We’re gonna stick around here for a bit, you can go if you want.”
Sherry perks up for a moment before nodding. “Y-yeah alright. I’ll see you around. Oh, and Myrtle-”
“You don’t have to say anything. I know they meant a lot to you too.”
Sherry does his best to give her a smile while his lip quivers, trying hard to hold back bursting into tears. He pats her shoulder before leaving.
Myrtle and I make our way outside the church and over to a small side courtyard. The overall oppressive air from the inside fades out here. We stand side by side while onlooking a group of butterflies working on a growth of morning glories trailing up the side of the church walls, gently fluttering from one flower to the next. It’s quiet for many moments, before I hear that small, quiet voice once more.
“Two years I believe.” It’s affected us both, hasn’t it? I sneak a glance up at her. Her hair had gained a good amount of length; brown locks resting on her shoulders and her bangs framing the sides of her face. It was a short sleek bob the last time I saw her. She’s always maintained the image of being beautiful in every situation. Even now she’s trying her best to keep that front, but she deserves the right to be ugly right now.
“I remember the first time our bands practiced together. You had that cute argyle sweater. Martin thought you were a meek little thing until you started playing.”
“That look on his face was absolutely priceless.” I can’t help but smirk from the memory. She makes a small snort in response.
“Gene actually wanted you both in the band.”
“Oh?”
Myrtle shakes her head. “I told him ‘NO!’ I thought we had enough people as is, but also,” She turns to look at me, her gaze falling sullen. “You and Sherry have your own thing, I didn’t want to hold that back.”
“Murmur…” The old nickname jumps out of my mouth before I realize it. The recognition in her eyes flashes for a moment, and she gives me a pained smile.
“Nickie, can I confess something to you? Please don’t tell anyone else.” I can hear the cracks in her voice return.
“Of course.” I respond gently.
She takes a moment before speaking again, holding down a sniffle as her eyes redden a second time. “I-I wish… I wish I went with them. I took a cab home separately from the rest of the band so I could see my mom again.” Her voice wavers as she tries to control her volume. “I shouldn’t- I-” Myrtle whimpers as her shoulders shake, failing to keep her composure. I watch her lips quiver as she can’t even pass words out from them anymore.
I reach out to her, lightly tugging her arm closer to me. She slumps over my shoulder, breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably. I feel my chest tighten as she hiccups sharp breaths through her tears. I pull her into a firm embrace, and she returns it.
“I-I- I sh-should have died with them! Why did I have to leave? Why didn’t I… Why didn’t I go with them?” Her voice becomes scratchy and worn as she repeats it over and over. She presses tighter against me. I’m so sorry Myrtle. I’m sorry I can’t do anything more than this. I feel myself choke up hearing her. It digs into me, burrows in my chest and claws its way up my throat and out of my mouth as a ragged sob.
We stay like this for many more moments, until it begins to dull. Until it sinks in. Until it finally scabs over. The sun starts to set when we finally let go of each other. We stand in silence for many moments before I gaze back up at her pitiful face.
“Can I stay over? Just for the night?” Her words reduced to a weak whisper, she begs me so vulnerably. All I can do in response is a nod. We make our way to my vespa, and I drape my parka over her shoulders. She accepts it wordlessly and sinks herself against my back as we mount the scooter. The drive back to my flat is ridden in continued silence, a vigil we share together.
As we arrive I find myself feeling drained, and as I look to Myrtle she seems to be as well. I open the door and let her enter first, and then I come in after. She hands me my parka and takes a few tentative steps further into the living room, then looks back to me.
"I haven't been back here in some time." A vague hint of a smile forms on her face. "It's changed."
"Yeah, we moved all the instruments to Sherry's place instead." I hang my parka up on the rack.
"Oh? Why?"
I hestitate. Myrtle stares are me as I remain silent for a few more moments, before I manage to speak up, "Gets more use there."
"Ah..." She looks me up and down before gazing away to the couch.
"Oh, uh, you can sleep in my room, I can take the couch."
"You sure? I'm fine with the couch." She smiles back at me.
I can only grimace in return. "That's not right of me to do. You're the guest."
"Alright, if you insist, I won't resist. But, I will be sitting down." She seats herself onto the couch and leans against the armrest.
"Wait." I blink. "Oh damnit, you don't have a change of clothes."
She waves it off. "It's fine, I'm just here for the night. I'll be gone in the morning."
I frown. This situation is getting more precarious than I want. "The least I can do is offer you some pajamas. Its a bit... Unconventional, but uh." I look away from her. Are they even going to fit?
"If you're offering, I'll take it. As long as it makes you comfortable."
"Your comfort is the more concerning topic here."
"Look, I get it. We're in a weird situation. I'm a woman, you're a man. It's bound to be awkward. I just, I want to be around a friend for a night, if thats okay."
"It is, I just," I look away from her and sigh, "I'm sorry."
"This doesn't happen very often for you does it."
Try never. "I'm not exactly the type of guy women fawn over."
Myrtle snorts. "Oh you never know."
I roll my eyes. "Uh-huh. I'm getting you those pajamas." I leave the room to go to mine. Carefully closing the door behind me, I slump onto the bed and let out a long sigh. Oh if only she knew. I get up and fetch the pajamas, and bring them to her. "Bathroom is down the hall, second door."
Myrtle takes the clothes from me and smiles. "Thank you Nickie. Really."
"Of course. I'm going to go get dressed down too, so uh... Goodnight Myrtle."
She nods and gets up from the couch. "Goodnight Nickie." Myrtle heads to the bathroom, and I watch as she heaves a sigh before entering.
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