CHAPTER 141

Three months later, Connie lay on a gurney awaiting the moment that might – or might not change her life. Dr Adair had performed the implant surgery two months ago but tissue had to heal before the final procedure could be completed. A tiny sound processor, implanted in the labyrinth near one of the micro transmitters was going to be turned on in a few minutes by a small amount of electricity that would be used to charge the battery. The procedure would be tedious but not dangerous or painful. Afterwards, Connie would have to wear a device that resembled head phones for several hours and then her hearing would be tested. But right now, she was a bit drunk, thanks to the Valium drip that was attached to the top of her hand. The tranquilizer loosened her tongue a bit but she didn’t divulge any dark personal secrets or rant about anything obscene as some patients were prone to do. Her murmurs were formed as questions – questions that doctors and nurses couldn’t answer. Where’s Kevin?…Is Kevin here?…. Why isn’t he here?….Where is he?…You need to get him for me…. Those who attended her just shook their heads and shrugged. She had come to the hospital alone. They had no idea who she was talking about.

After Connie’s decision to proceed with the surgery, she found the ending to her book which was based on the decision itself and not the outcome. She had decided to send the manuscript to an editor at Putnam, a man she had met several times at various literary events. Sending a manuscript ‘blind’ almost always guaranteed rejection. She had retained the pseudonym Rory Kendall and knew that ‘Rory’s’ manuscript would probably not be read by anyone, so she cheated. Along with the manuscript, she sent a cover letter from Connie O’Rourke inviting an opinion from her old acquaintance.

Within two weeks, not only had Rory Kendall received an invitation to publish but Connie O’ Rourke had also received an email from Putnam’s editor, thanking her for sending the manuscript his way. The book was due to be released in two weeks, regardless of the outcome of the surgery. Some promotion was to be expected.

Connie had done a good job at avoiding any Backstreet news these past seven months. The group wasn’t promoting an album or concert so they weren’t in the media too often. Only once did she happen upon an appearance and that was as she was changing television channels one morning. The show was ‘The View’. Backstreet was the guest. She tried to look away, surprised at how her heart began to pound in her chest. Kevin looked different. He was clean shaven and his hair was short. Two things happened during that brief appearance that created a sad and bittersweet pain. One involved a typical interview question involving the Boy’s love lives. Kevin looked uncomfortable and it was clear that the others tried to steer the conversation into a different direction. Unfortunately, Star Jones wasn’t going to let go. Finally Kevin was forced to answer and he did so with a tight-lipped smile.

“There is someone I care about very much…”

Connie felt her eyes begin to burn. His answer was media-vague and she didn’t really understand what he meant. Maybe she was afraid to understand.

The other thing that Connie noticed was the presence of a signer during the interview. She didn’t remember them ever doing that before. Even when the group sang, the interpreter signed the lyrics. This was something new.

Now she lay in a small recovery cubicle, headphones in place as she fought her stupor. Just a few more hours…

*****

The Backstreet Boys had come to a mutual decision. They would take an extended break. They seemed to be floundering right now, anyway. As much as Howie, Nick, Brian and AJ bitched and complained about Kevin’s bossiness and need to control, they found – to their surprise – that they needed that kind of leadership. It hadn’t taken them long to realize that their venting at and about Kevin had served an important purpose. He was a convenient scapegoat. When they got tired and irritable, Kevin caught the blame. If they screwed up a number, they got mad at his criticism which kept them from getting too mad at themselves. If they started picking at each other, Kevin would be the voice of reason. When they were on the road, Kevin played the mother hen, warning them not to party too late and making sure they were drinking plenty of water. He seemed to be giving somebody hell all the time but made himself available if anyone was having a hard time, personally or professionally. He really was like some kind of surrogate parent and, just as it is with real parents, he provided a target for their failures and frustrations. When he lost Connie, the group lost their anchor and in a weird and twisted way, it threw them off balance. It upset them for Kevin to be so compliant, so easy going, so….nice. He had barely raised his voice in seven months and it was driving them crazy. They missed their resident asshole and didn’t know how to get him back. For now, a break seemed like the best way to go. They wouldn’t see each other as often and, when they did, it would be as friends and not as business partners.

The fans thought the group members had lost their minds. They were still tracked as closely as possible and reports were somewhat disturbing. Nick had turned into a party boy and had taken up boat racing, of all things. Brian had gone domestic, holing himself in the Atlanta suburbs and appearing on the occasional tacky game show with Leighanne attached to his hip. AJ shopped, became involved in animal protection and consulted psychics. Howie, appearing nominally sane, attended premiers and did the radio circuit. He was the ‘sacrificial BSB’ at this juncture, trying the keep the name of the group in the news. Kevin hugged trees and traveled, spending time in the Far East and South America where he consulted with religious leaders. It was all a little unsettling.

*****

When clarity returned to her, Connie was taken to an examination room. This was it and she tried desperately to quell her expectations. Dr. Adair sat her down in an upholstered chair and then took a seat directly in front of her so he could see her face. Connie was a good candidate for evaluation. She had not been deaf all of her life and should be able to recognize certain sounds as they were presented to her. Too often, deaf people wanted to hear so badly, they convinced themselves that they were hearing sound when, in fact, no sound waves were reaching their brain.

As Dr. Adair adjusted the headset to allow a minimal amount of audio vibration to enter Connie’s ears, an assistant eased up behind her, ready to create a sound that Connie should be able to recognize. No one in the room spoke. As Connie watched, Dr. Adair smiled, patted her knee and then nodded as he seemed to look past her. The assistant, who stood out of range of Connie’s vision, held up a small bell and a pencil. High pitched noises should be easier to detect. Dr. Adair nodded again and his assistant tapped the pencil against the edge of the bell.

Connie showed no response.

The doctor reached over, adjusted the headphones again and then nodded.

Nothing.

Connie could feel her stomach starting to knot up. Someone else was in the room, she knew. She also knew that the success of the surgery was being evaluated. Her eyes closed as she tried to calm herself and brace herself against disappointment. She had tried not to expect, she really had, but…

…ping…

Connie’s eyes flew open as she stiffened in her chair. What was that? Did I hear something? Was that a noise? Dr. Adair was studying her carefully. In a pre-arranged signal, the doctor scratched his upper lip. The assistant counted to five and tapped the bell again.

…ping…

Connie’s eyes began to fill.

“Do you hear something, Connie?” he asked without emotion.

“I-I think so… It’s faint…” Connie froze. She looked confused.

“What’s wrong, Connie? Are you alright?”

“My – my voice…” she stammered. I think I can hear my voice…”

“Can you hear my voice or are you reading my lips?”

“I’m n-not s-sure,” Connie whispered. “It’s been so long…”

The doctor tried to suppress a smile. Blocking one’s own voice was almost impossible – if there was any transmission - since the tonal vibrations of our own speech are internal. He adjusted the phones once more and nonchalantly scratched his chin. After a few seconds…

…PING…

Once again, Connie jumped in her seat.

“It’s a bell! It’s a bell, isn’t it, Dr. Adair?”

His grin answered her question. Her tears answered his.

*****

Many more tests were run that evening and amplification adjustments were made through a remote control device until pitch and loudness were reduced to within normal parameters. At the end of the session, Connie was emotionally and physically exhausted, but her adaptation to a hearing world would require some time, although not as much as it would for a person who had never heard sound before. She would spend a few days at a type of convalescent center. It was actually more like a bed and breakfast where people recovering from non-life threatening disabilities came to readjust to the ‘real’ world. Councilors and therapists were on hand 24/7 in case sensory overload caused anxiety problems.

Connie spent three days at Maple Vista, marveling at the simple sounds of birds and water running from a spigot. Barking dogs and ringing phones were like music and she burst into gales of laughter when she realized that her laptop could ‘talk’ to her. Very low pitched sounds sounded like whispers but mid and upper range tones were clear. The therapist wasn’t surprised by this and said that further adjustments could probably be made in the future, maybe even by the time she had to have her next out-patient surgery.

“Don’t worry,” Linda, the therapist, teased. “If somebody screams, you should be able to hear them.”

Linda’s statement brought back the memory of Kevin’s final words to her. You couldn’t even hear out babies cry….

A couple of days in the country at Maple Vista were followed by a field trip to the city. Although the cacophony was overwhelming, Connie relished every car horn and siren she heard. They had dinner at a deli before they returned to the country. Tomorrow, Connie would fly back to Wyoming. Linda let Connie be as they waited for their food. The deli was bustling with conversation and the clank of utensils. Music from a nearby speaker added one more layer to the steady stream of everyday sound. Connie tilted her head a little, smiling at the melody that wafted from a nearby speaker.

“That sounds good,” Connie laughed, tapping her fingers. “is it an old one or a new one?”

“New, I think…” Linda squeezed a slice of lemon into her water. “Called ‘What Can I Do?’.

“I like it,” Connie nodded.

Linda chuckled as she lifted her glass. “You and about a million other people. It’s by a group called The Backstreet Boys…”

“Oh…”

Connie’s appetite suddenly evaporated and she felt very tired. She had finally heard them – her friends and her lover. Make that…’ex’ lover. She began to stuff potato salad into her mouth although the thought of food almost made her ill. At least she wouldn’t have to talk if her mouth was full. Unfortunately, her eyes were full too.

Chapter 142

Nick pulled his cell out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. It had been a while and he wondered if anything had happened. The last time, he had been grilled to within an inch of his life. These calls were always interesting at least and Nick was somewhat flattered that he had somehow become the ‘designated contact’. He pressed the ‘talk’ button and put the phone to his ear.

“Hi ‘ya, Hannah. How’s it hanging?”

“I hope your talking about my left tit, Carter. When are you going to get it through that granite skull of yours that lesbians don’t want to be men?”

“Maybe when they stop getting’ hot over women and wearing men’s clothes…”

“Are you calling me a dyke?” Hannah hissed into the phone. “God, I can’t believe how close-minded you are, you…you…little blond bimbo!”

“Look who’s bein’ close minded, you sexist pig!”

Hannah had to think about that one a minute. Maybe he was right. Nah….

“Look, you little asswipe – I didn’t call you to exchange insults!”

“What did you call me for then? Last time it was to quiz me on Kevin and the shit he told you when you saw him. If you want to know something about Kev, maybe you should call him yourself.”

“I can’t do that…,” Hannah sighed. “I tried it once after New York and I think it just upset him. I think he thought I was calling him with information about Connie.”

“Yeah, I can understand that…”

“Even if I knew where Connie was, which I don’t, I had to promise that I wouldn’t discuss her with him in any way…”

“Yeah.. That’s too bad for Kevin…”

“Even if I knew something that might help him find her, I couldn’t tell him…”

“Yeah…”

“Even if I had some important puzzle piece that might give him a small clue…”

“Damn, Hannah! I get it already! You can’t say nuthin’! Jeez!”

Hannah looked up at her ceiling and shook her head. Nick made it so hard to get a point across without breaking a promise. She had told Connie that she wouldn’t say anything to Kevin about what she had learned about Connie’s life. Hannah didn’t know where Connie was, but she knew that Connie had undergone successful surgery than enabled her to hear and she knew that Connie had written a book – a book that was climbing the non-fiction best seller lists. But she had promised that she wouldn’t contact Kevin. She couldn’t tell….him. She really couldn’t find it in herself to come right out and tell Nick either because that would be like telling him. That was too close. She was going to have to take the long way ‘round this problem. Time to change the subject. Kind of…

“Nick,” Hannah said brightly, “ There’s something I want to send you. You going to be in one place long enough to get it?”

“What is it?” Nick grinned into the receiver. “A present? I’ll be in Florida for a couple more weeks.”

“Just a little something I saw that you might enjoy. Here goes.. In fact I’m sure Kevin would enjoy it, too. Pass it along to him when you’re done with it, will you?”

“What is it, Hannah? I can’t think of nuthin’ that Kevin and I like the same.”

“Just do it, okay? Promise?”

“I’ll try Hannah…”

Hannah was growing impatient. “Look Nick. I don’t want you to try, okay? I want you to DO it! You think you can handle that assignment? Is it too hard?”

“Nooooo,” Nick pouted. “I just thought that you were sending ME a present – not something I had to share, and with Kevin…”

“Don’t be a goddamn baby! Just pass it along and tell him that I thought – in fact, tell him that I knew that he’d enjoy it. Do you think you can do that?”

“What is it?”

Nick had finally pushed Hannah to her breaking point. “IT’S A FUCKIN’ BOOK, OKAY? NOW, ARE YOU GOING TO DO WHAT I SAID OR AM I GONNA HAVE TO COME DOWN THERE AND SLAP YOU SO HARD THAT YOUR GODDAMN GRANDMOTHER WILL FEEL IT?”

Nick’s mouth screwed up like he had just swallowed mud. A book? Yuck… What the hell kind of present is that? I’d rather get socks… “Yes, Hannah! Damn! Don’t get your boxers in a knot! I’ll pass it along to Kevin. I’ll be MORE than happy to.”

*****

Kevin would never admit it, but he was glad to see Nick. None of the guys had seen that much of each other but he’d seen less of ‘the baby’ than he had the other three. It surprised him a little when Nick called and asked if he could crash there for a night before he flew back to Tampa. Kevin had been lonely and welcomed the company.

After some idle chit-chat, the pair ventured into personal territory. Kevin asked Nick about his family and Nick volleyed with questions about Ann, Jerald and Tim. It was all very polite. Too polite. Nick turned his head towards Kevin’s staircase. The last time he had been in this house was the afternoon he had fallen. It had also been the last time any of them had laid eyes on Connie.

“Have you heard anything?” Nick ventured.

Kevin stared into his beer. No translation was necessary. He knew what Nick was talking about.

“Nope,” he answered taking a swallow.

“You still lookin’ or have you gotten over her?” Then Nick got brave – or stupid. “You been seein’ anybody?”

Kevin sat his beer down on a nearby table. The questions really didn’t make him angry but it had been a long time since anyone asked. Even his own family avoided the subject of Connie. Leave it to Nick… Kevin was a little surprised at the melancholy that washed over him. It had been almost nine months, but then again, he tended to hang on to the past.

“No, I’m not looking anymore. She doesn’t want to be found…”

“You think you’re over it then?” Nick repeated. “Time to get back into the ladies?”

Kevin stood and walked over to the glass doors that overlooked the deck and the ocean. He stared for a moment before responding.

“Am I over ‘it’? No. Not really. That’s why I’m putting the house up for sale. I guess it’s time.” Then Kevin turned to Nick with a tight smile. “I’ve been out a couple of times. Nothing serious…”

“Hey, I could hook you up!”

The thought of Nick pimping for him almost made Kevin laugh. He’d seen the kind of women – make that ‘girls’ – who appealed to Nick. No way in hell…. Still, the offer was sweet in a weird sort of way.

“Yeah, Nick – thanks but no thanks. I’m sure you wrote the Book of Love but I’ll try to fumble by on my own.”

Book…. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot….” Nick ran up the stairs and returned a minute later. “I got something for ‘ya,” he announced, pushing a hardback towards Kevin. “It’s a book.”

Kevin’s eyes rolled. “No shit, Nick…”

“Actually it was a gift to me….”

“Did you read it?” Kevin asked taking the book from Nick’s hand.

“Hell, no! The damn thing must have over three hundred pages and not one picture! I was hoping that you would read it and kinda give me a symposium on it so if this person asked me about it later, they wouldn’t know I didn’t read it. Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Kevin grunted turning the book over in his hands. “You know, it wouldn’t actually kill you to read a real book once in a while…”

“I read real books!” Nick protested. “But this sounds like a ‘chick’ book to me.”

“So, naturally, you thought I would like it..”

“Nooooo… Actually, Hannah thought you would. She’s the one who sent it too me. Made me promise I’d pass it on to you. Said she just knew you would want to read it. I thought she was going to make me sign an oath in blood that you’d get it.”

Kevin stared at the volume. The title was ‘Changes, Choice and Chance’ by an author named Rory Kendall. The name seemed to ring some kind of bell but Kevin couldn’t place it. Maybe he’d read something by Kendall before. He couldn’t even tell if the writer was a man or a woman. He flipped the book over but there was no photograph on the back and even the inside flap contained no real clue about writer or the book’s premise. It was all very general. But Hannah had made some kind of point to make sure that he saw it…. His confusion was interrupted by an invitation.

“So, you wanna go?”

“W-What?” Kevin hadn’t heard Nick’s comment.

“I said do you want to go to the party? Kid’s suppose to be there. It should be a good time…”

Kevin ran his fingers across the cover of Nick’s book. Hannah had been insistent that this volume find its way to him. Now he had to find out why.

“No. No thanks, Nick. You go ahead…”