Play It Again

By Gina Becker

When Amy Marsh hears her sons song being played on the radio, she is caught off guard. Not only has he been dead for over twenty years, but his music was never aired. So why, on his birthday, twenty-one years after his death is someone else singing his haunting melody?

Shes about to find out. As a retired journalist, she and her husband, ex-building contractor Daniel, have retired from the Midwest to the sunny coast of Carmel, California. As Amy uses her past writing experience to extract an article from the supposed singer/songwriter, she takes her entire family on a spiritual journey that will change their lives forever.

Daniels gruff nature struggles against his wifes softness and willingness to accept this new young singer into their family, but in the end, even her sons ex-band mates will have to concede, theres something unique and special about Jonah.

Play It Again is a heartwarming story that will make you laugh, cry, and wonder, if you havent already, what happens to our spirit when we die?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481751056

Gina Becker

Gina Becker is the daughter of a retired family physician, mother of four and step-mother of three. Her work as a former banker and client manager for one of the top three banks in the country grants her insight to the financial world, and her travels throughout the US lends depth to her writing. She resides in Michigan on fifteen wooded acres with her husband, George.

Book preview

Play

It

Again

Gina Becker

ah.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2013 by Gina Becker. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/13/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5106-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5105-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013908460

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

All musical lyrics are used with permission by Joe Dipiero and Steve Bialecki ©2005 Andrew Brolus and Wren

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

In Loving, Living Memory

Of

Andrew Drew Brolus

March 12, 1986

January 19, 2007

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, thanks to my wonderful husband, George, for being there for me—always. I couldn’t create a more loving, caring man. You’re almost a work of fiction.

My heartfelt appreciation to Lauren, Maria, Clare and Debbie—for being my willing first readers, and giving me your wonderful feedback. I could not have cleaned up the manuscript without you. Please notice that I did take some of your suggestions.

To my friend, Mary, for sharing her vision with me and confirming that my son’s spirit lives on, even after his physical body had died. I learned so much from you, thank you.

Warmest thanks to Joe and Steve, my son’s amazing friends and band members. For standing by Andrew long after many had given up on him. The music lives on in our hearts.

And last, but not least, thank you to the many readers who have supported my past work. I have heard are you still writing? often enough to get the hint—you wanted something more from me. So here it is. I realize it’s long overdue, thanks for being patient.

Dear Reader:

Although this book is a work of fiction, it was born of a non-fiction manuscript I started but didn’t complete. After about forty or so pages of a manuscript I entitled Bent Spoons, an account of my experience with my son’s addiction, I felt such hopelessness that I simply couldn’t finish writing it. I wanted a story with a happy ending, and I wanted to share with you the hope and love that I feel, even though I tragically lost my son to a drug overdose.

There are some references in this book to my son, events that I have changed to fit the story, but true to some extent, nevertheless. If any of you have ever loved someone suffering from an addiction, whether it is drugs, alcohol, gambling, (need I go on?) you will recognize the non-fiction parts of dealing with someone with an addiction.

Reincarnation is something I believe is possible. If we are not reincarnated, then I do believe our spirit lives on after we die in some form, whether we become angels to our loved ones, or just hang out in the spiritual realm. The main character, Jonah, is a work of fiction. However, he embodies some of the same complex character flaws of my son as well as his loving nature.

Carmel, California in Monterey County is a place I have visited several times. One of the trips was with my children and we had a wonderful time. It’s a beautiful city with lots to see and do. Cannery Row, Fisherman’s Wharf, and the Mission really do exist, but I took a lot of liberties in creating fictional storefronts, people and events.

My hope is not to talk anyone into believing in reincarnation, but to believe that what we do with our lives can make a difference. We leave an indelible impression on those around us and our spirit does live on in one form or another, even if it is only in the memories we leave behind.

Very Truly Yours,

Gina

Prologue

On the night of March 12, 2008 ~

You really have to push now, Carla, Kyle Nelson urged his young wife. They were in a birthing room at Carmel Memorial Hospital in California. Outside, lightening tore apart the ink-black sky. High winds threw buckets of rain against the thick panes of glass of the hospital windows.

If this baby is born tonight… and it’s a boy… we’ll name him Jonah. Like the guy in the Bible who survived… the storm… by being swallowed by a whale, Carla said while catching her breath before another enormous contraction took hold of her making it impossible to speak.

Whatever you want, Jonah sounds like a good name to me. Unsure what she was referring to, Kyle would agree to anything right now to get his wife through her labor. He noticed the green line on the monitor indicating another strong contraction. Here we go now, push. Oh wow, I can see its head; it has hair, dark hair! Kyle was exhilarated by the first site of his newborn child. Even though neither he nor his wife had wanted to be parents, he was looking forward to trying, and if it didn’t work out, they could always leave the baby with his mom. They hadn’t even bothered to find out if the child was a boy or girl.

Aaarrrr, Carla replied, she was so intent on pushing. Her dark, unruly hair was matted to her head. Patiently, Kyle patted off the moisture from her forehead and cheeks that had formed with each contraction. He felt so pale next to his beautiful, dark wife. His mother had warned him against marrying that wild Latino girl, but he couldn’t resist her. He’d fallen in love with her the moment she had stepped into his quiet, boring, ordinary life.

The doctor was instructing her now, all focus on the life that was about to be brought into this world. This last push should do it, Carla. You’re doing great. With your next contraction I want you to really give it all you’ve got, okay?

Carla nodded at the doctor then glared at Kyle. Madre Dios, hadn’t she been doing that all along? She was never going to do this again. If it hadn’t been for Kyle, she wouldn’t have bothered having this baby at all. If being a mom wasn’t what she wanted to do, she would just leave Kyle and the baby and take off. Oh, here we go again—another really painful contraction. Carla pushed with all her might. Thunder crashed, the rain that lashed angrily at the windows matched her mood.

Alex’s spirit was moving at lightning speed, sights and sounds whipped past him in a blur before everything went dark. He was in a dark tunnel and he couldn’t move his arms or legs. A moment later, he saw a bright light and two pairs of eyes peering down at him. He took a breath and let out a weak cry, and then his mind went blank.

It’s a boy, the doctor said. Would you like to cut the cord? He asked Kyle who was pale and shaken, holding tightly onto Carla’s hand.

Kyle walked to where the doctor was holding the baby, looked into his newborn son’s eyes, then back at Carla’s face, her expression contemptuous. No, he said simply and went back to holding Carla’s hand. He knew she hadn’t wanted this baby. He loved her more than he would ever be able to love his own child. What had they gotten themselves into?

Chapter 1

Twenty years later, March 12, 2028 ~

The cypress tree was over two-hundred years old. Its arthritic, gnarled branches twisted, reaching towards the sky, had been a major selling point for Amy when she and Daniel had purchased the home. She was glad the developer of the subdivision had thought to build the homes around this rare tree. To add a burst of color, Amy had decided to plant brightly colored petunias in white, yellow, red and violet around the base of the tree.

Her work complete, Amy sat back on her knees. She took a long sip of water and admired the beautiful touch the flowers added to the front yard landscape. Her mind still on the flowers, she absentmindedly started humming to the song playing on her outdoor radio. Slowly, as realization set in, her hands started to shake so hard the water bottle she’d been holding dropped to the ground.

The song was one she knew by heart, because she had listened to it many times over the years on her CD player after her son’s death. He had died just two months short of his twenty-first birthday and had left behind a body of music that had never made it to the mainstream music world. Today would have been his forty-second birthday.

All alone, I’m headed for the other side. All alone, just headed for another life. I live now, can’t have another try. What it comes down to, I don’t wanna die.

The song was melancholy yet sweetly melodic, just as she remembered it. She found it hard to breathe, swiping at tears with her dirty glove, leaving streaks of potting soil on her face. For many years after his death, it had comforted Amy to hear his voice on the professionally recorded CD. The songs had since been transferred to a digital file, but she hadn’t listened to her son’s music in quite a while, and felt a jolt hearing it on the radio, today of all days.

Every word, each note were exactly the same as she remembered. The singer’s voice was different, though. Yes, she thought, it was a good voice. Strong and a little rough, similar to Alex’s, but unique.

Amy felt dizzy. Why was someone else singing the song her son had written and performed so long ago? And why was it being played on the radio, today? Alex’s songs had never made it on the air during his lifetime.

Just then, Amy’s husband, Daniel, pulled up in the driveway. He was a retired independent building contractor and although he had a gruff, businesslike attitude, he always had a ready smile for his wife and family.

He grinned as he got out of his car, seeing Amy on her knees in front of the tree. She loved planting flowers. He was glad that something so simple could bring her great joy.

Amy looked up at him and his smile faded.

What’s wrong? In several long-legged strides, he walked over to her, taking her tear-stained face between his hands. Amy could be strong, yet he knew she had a fragile side that needed protecting.

Listen. Still kneeling on the ground by the cypress tree she pointed towards the radio.

I live now, can’t have another try. What it comes down to, I don’t wanna die. The haunting, tragic words were so familiar that Daniel’s face lost some of its color.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? He looked quizzically at Amy, knowing she was as much at a loss for an explanation as he was.

The last note of the song played and the radio announcer said, That was Jonah Nelson with his latest single, ‘What It Comes Down To’.

Jonah Nelson? I’ve never heard of him, Daniel said, holding out a hand to help Amy to her feet. Barely able to compose herself, hands still shaking, Amy took Daniel’s outstretched hand. Standing on shaky legs, she nervously brushed at the dirt on her jeans.

Keith or Robbie would have called us. They would have been excited to be playing again and using the music and would have wanted us to know. I know they would. Amy was referring to her son’s former band members. While she spoke, she cleaned up the heavy-weight paper containers that had held the petunias, her motions erratic with grief, dumping them into the brown recycle bag that Daniel held out for her.

They had been married for forty-five years and were each others’ best friend. They had raised their two sons together and when their oldest son had gotten addicted to heroin, they had stood by one another. The rehab and counseling had not helped and they lost him to his addiction just two months before his twenty-first birthday. It had been a sad and tragic event, and even though it had been over twenty years since he had passed away, Alex was still thought of as a well-loved member of the family.

Daniel helped Amy carry her gardening tools into the garage and put them neatly away on the storage shelves that were set up along the far wall. At sixty-five, she was in good health with the exception of moving a little slower. Not ready to go gray, she still kept her short hair a deep shade of blond.

Sixty-seven-year-old Daniel stayed active by playing golf every week and remodeling the house he and Amy had purchased in Carmel, California. They had remained in Michigan and rented the home out until they were ready to retire and move into it themselves last fall. He was currently working on the master bathroom which needed a lot of work. It still had the avocado green sink and tub in it from the 1960’s which, even though it had made a trendy comeback, was not what he and Amy had wanted. Daniel insisted on doing the work himself and rarely hired anyone to help him, so Amy knew it would take a while for the work to get done.

Let’s take a look on the internet and see what we can find out about this Jonah guy, Daniel said as he headed into the house and down the hallway to the smallest of the three bedrooms they had renovated into an office.

Amy followed him and watched quietly as he turned on the computer, brought up the web browser, and typed Jonah Nelson in the search field. There were several sites that had information about him.

It says here that he was born March 12, 2008 and raised in Monterey. Daniel and Amy exchanged a bewildered look.

Amy’s voice was tight with emotion, He was born on Alex’s birthday, the year after his death?

It’s just a strange coincidence he has the same birthday as Alex, Daniel said, not giving this fact any weight, however he knew that his wife would.

Daniel continued reading, He’s twenty years old and has a body of work, but not enough for a complete album yet. He’s been releasing one song at a time on local stations.

Daniel opened the next site that held information and a picture of Jonah Nelson. He had dark hair and light brown skin that was evident of someone of Latin descent. High cheekbones, a straight nose and square jaw gave him a fierce, haughty, superior look. In contrast, his eerily clear blue eyes softened his face, made him appear sensitive and kind, as though he could see through you, knew what you were feeling and thinking. Amy felt her heart race and her mouth go dry. She remembered that look, had seen it many times in Alex’s eyes.

Well I’ll be damned. Daniel leaned back in his chair and stared at the picture, then over his shoulder at Amy. He’d seen that look before, too.

Amy found it hard to speak. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and when she did finally say something, her speech was intense with emotion, Does it say where he’s playing? Does he have any shows coming up?

Daniel turned in his chair to face her. Look, I know what you’re thinking. We are not going to go backwards, though. At six foot one, he was taller than his wife even while seated. Although he struck an imposing figure, the difference in stature made him protective of her.

Go backwards, Amy’s voice remained soft but it was full of pain. She knew what he meant by his comment. Is that what you call it?

Yes, you were so full of grief after Alex died that you thought you saw him everywhere. You would come home and tell me you thought you passed him in another vehicle while driving, or saw him walking along the side of the road with his backpack. He could have kept giving her examples, but he stopped. His intention was not to hurt or embarrass her.

This is different. He’s playing one of Alex’s songs, he has the same birthday. What if it’s a sign? What if it’s him? Amy insisted although her shoulders slumped in defeat. Daniel was probably right. It wasn’t Alex, she just wished it was him.

I do want to find out why he’s passing Alex’s song off as his own, Daniel admitted.

Amy nodded in agreement, but finding it hard to speak didn’t say anything. She was too confused to make sense of any of it. Later, once the shock wore off, she would try.

Turning back to the computer, Daniel found a site that had a schedule of Jonah’s shows. After reviewing the dates and venues he said, Look, we’ll go to Books n Beans this Thursday night at seven and watch him play if it’ll make you feel better.

Amy pressed her fingers against her eyes. Not everyone shared her belief of reincarnation. She had been hoping that one day she would see Alex again in this lifetime. Even though she didn’t share that hope with many people, Daniel knew and humored her by going along with what he considered her optimistic approach to life.

She pulled her hands away from her eyes and placed them gently on either side of Daniel’s face, How did I ever get so lucky to have such an understanding husband?

I know it’s still hard. I miss him, too. And besides, I don’t care if you’re a little nutty. He kissed her before she could contradict him.

Smiling, she accepted his kiss, and the tease. A lot of people believe in reincarnation. We just don’t have complete memory of our past life. Even if he is Alex, he may not know that’s who he was before.

Not knowing how to reply, Daniel shook his head. We’ll go to Books n Beans and that’s it, okay?

Okay, Amy agreed.

They both knew better.

Chapter 2

Two days later, it was standing room only at Books n Beans. Every table near the small stage was taken and people were sitting along the ledge of the window. Others had formed a semi-circle on the floor where Jonah was seated on a chair, alone. The show had already started.

Jonah’s head was down, eyes closed, immersed in his music. His medium-length, straight dark hair hung over his face partially hiding his features. He was playing a melancholy tune about wanting to live and giving love another try. His audience was captivated by his smoky voice and flawless performance on the acoustic guitar. Amy recognized the song as Alex’s.

Would you like a cup of coffee? Daniel whispered, his mouth close to her ear.

Amy shivered from the contact and from the eerie sensation she had watching this young man play his guitar. There was something so completely familiar about him, his hands, the way he held his guitar, his style. No thanks. I don’t want anything right now, she whispered back to him, never taking her eyes off the musician.

She watched as his hands strummed the guitar, gently swaying to the music. Every so often, he would make eye contact with someone seated in the front row, drawing in his listeners. For Amy, it brought back a memory of another life and another show in a coffee shop—with Alex.

The girls seated near the edge of the stage looked longingly at him, waiting to reach out to him after his performance. The young men in the audience managed to look both envious and appreciative at the same time, enjoying the performance and wishing they were the performer. A lot of girls liked a guy who could sing well and play the guitar. Some things never changed.

Jonah, swept up in his creative flow, didn’t pause between songs. The next song was another of Alex’s and Amy found herself feeling hopeful. Jonah was a wonderful musician. His voice had a rough edge to it like Alex’s had. However, unlike Alex, he didn’t mumble the lyrics.

Amy remembered that there were times she could barely make out what Alex was singing about and had asked him to explain his lyrics. Alex would shrug his shoulders and tell her that people liked not knowing all the words. It was about feeling the music. Amy didn’t agree and was enjoying hearing the lyrics now, noticing that some of the words of this particular song were different than she remembered.

After an hour of playing, as if finally coming out of a trance, Jonah lifted his head—and looked straight at Amy. Past all the young pretty girls sitting before him, not to the right or left, but directly in front of him as if he knew right where she was standing and that she was waiting to see him.

For a moment, Amy couldn’t breathe. There was a strange buzzing in her ears and she couldn’t hear anyone else in the room. And although the moment lasted for only a few seconds, it felt like minutes. She was staring into her son’s eyes. The most pale blue, nearly transparent eyes that couldn’t quite be captured in a photo, but a color and clarity she had memorized and knew by heart. She could tell by the way her husband stood frozen, alert by her side that he had sensed it too.

People started talking excitedly, the high-pitched sound of female voices were most prevalent. Could you sign my t-shirt? When’s your next show? Where are you playing next Friday night? Do you have an album coming out soon? Jonah was drawn into the confusion and excitement of his fans.

She looked up at her husband, her eyes filled with tears and uncertainty. What do we do now?

He crossed his arms defensively, We wait. His lips pressed together in a grim line.

"Did you see his eyes? I know you sensed something, I felt you tense when he looked at

Reviews for Play It Again

[tomblubaugh · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Tracy has done a masterful job of weaving this story into my mind. I became very attached to the characters. Not just the protagonist, but all of them. It is an edgy story, but not out of line for the characters. Some of them reminded me of me when I was in my twenties. I wanted to punch Russ in the nose more than once and have a man-to-man talk with him. I fell in love with Deanie. She became my daughter. I wanted to protect her. Dorothy reminded me of my own mother. I understood the frustration Russ felt whenever she questioned him. It was difficult for me to put the book down and go to sleep. I've got her sequel, And the Beat Goes On, on my list to read. Great writing, Tracy.

[tracykrauss · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

An unlikely duo meet in 'Play It Again', a story of love, life and faith. Sparks fly when an ex-rock and roll junkie and a stuffy accountant rendezvous at a local resort, but neither are prepared for the emotional entanglements, family complications, and threat from the past that unexpectedly resurfaces. Set in the 1980s, this story brings two opposing forces together in a clash of romance and danger, while its musical undertones highlight the theme that God can turn anything into beautiful music. Play It Again is the prequel to Tracy’s debut novel 'And the Beat Goes On'. Mark Graham’s journey begins in this, the story of his parents.