Music To My Ears 2

I was honoured when the talented English Lady agreed to help me with my editing. I like to take the opportunity here to express my heartfelt thanks to her. Thank you for your help English Lady. Should there be any errors in the story would be entirely my fault as I must've missed out the correction done by EL. Lady

She looked at the gloomy sky with its ominous dark clouds, heavily laden with moisture. It would rain very soon. She gave a sigh and quickened her steps and turned into the alley. She hated taking the alley but she had no choice, it was the fastest way to get home to before the rain fell. She was so absorbed with her own thoughts that she did not realized where she was going until she ran smack into someone. The person gave a grunt and fell to the ground while the grocery bag she was holding against her chest was bumped out of her clutch, and fell to the ground, spilling its contents out (tomatoes, garlic, a packet of pasta and a bar of Cadbury almond chocolates).

A few fat heavy raindrops had started to fall from the overly pregnant dark clouds and had found their way into her beautiful short raven curls that framed a small oval shaped face.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, she quickly bent down to retrieve her goods and stuffed them back into the bag. Meanwhile, she noticed the fallen person she had bumped into didn't seem to be making an effort to get up, but had continued to lay sprawled on the ground. She took a look at the person and noticed it was a man in shabby clothing.

"Mister, are you alright?" she asked the fallen man but there was no reply. The rain was now pouring down in fine mist yet he still didn't stir from his lying position, was he hurt? She thought to herself and hurried over to him. She noticed his very scarred right hand was holding onto a whiskey bottle. Damn! A drunkard, probably a homeless drunkard by the look of him, she tried to rouse him by shaking him on his shoulder.

"Hey, mister! Wake up!" She called loudly. He didn't stir.

"Oh shit! He must've knocked himself out when he fell over," she muttered to herself.

She reached into her bag for her mobile and dialed 911. The call was immediately answered. After giving details to the dispatcher she took off her coat and covered the drunkard from the drizzle. She had a good look at him while waiting for the ambulance. He had long unkempt hair; tangled bushy beard and moustache that covered his lower half of his face completely. He stank to high heaven of fish. She wondered briefly when was his last bath or shower, but underneath all those shabbiness and hair, he looked oddly familiar and rather young. Then she noticed something else about the man; both his last pinkies on his scarred hands were completely missing. Just then she heard the siren of the ambulance and saw the vehicle stopped right outside the alleyway.

The paramedics hurried over to where they were and carefully examined him before rolling him onto the stretcher and carrying him to the ambulance.

"He might've a concussion, we need to bring him to the hospital for a thorough check-up." said one of the paramedics.

"Can I go with him too? I was the one that knocked him over and I want to make sure he'll be alright," said Dominique Whitley or Nicky to those who knew her well.

"Sure, hop on," said the paramedics.

About ten minutes later they reached the hospital and had wheeled him straight into the examination room. A male doctor and a nurse went into the room as well. She tried to look inside the room but a blue curtain was drawn around the bed, there was nothing else she could do except to wait outside the room. After sometime the male doctor came out and Nicky hurried over to him.

"Hi, I'm Dominique, the man that I came in with just now, is he going to be alright?" asked a worried Nicky.

"He'll be fine, just a slight concussion and a bump on the back of his head, the bump will go away in a couple of days. In fact, he is already awake. But it would be better if you can persuade him to stay here for a day or two in case there might be a hairline fracture." explained the doctor.

"Thank goodness!" Nicky sighed with relief, "Can I see him?"

"Are you acquainted with him?" asked the doctor.

"No, well, it was my fault that he ended up in here…so I thought I should at least make sure he is alright and pay for the bills," said Nicky sheepishly.

"Well, good luck to you. He is throwing a tantrum right now and insisting on being discharged immediately," said the doctor with a wry smile.

The blue curtain that was hiding the unkempt man from view was now pulled back and Nicky could see that he was indeed arguing with the nurse and was trying to climb off the bed, the nurse was trying to calm him down but he was adamant to make life difficult for her.

Nicky opened the partial glass door and walked into the room.

"Leave me alone! I'm fine! I want to get out now!" the unkempt man shouted as he tried to get off the bed.

The nurse gave up trying to coax him back onto the bed just as Nicky cleared her throat to announce her presence. The nurse and the unkempt man turned to look at her.

Nicky gave the nurse a nod and smiled sheepishly at the unkempt man, she could see his eyes now. Although they still looked bloodshot, she could distinctly made out the color of his irises. It was of ocean deep blue-green and she was even more positive now that she had seen this man before but from where?

"Well, looks like your family is here to fetch you mister," said the nurse huffily.

"I've no family!" came the gruff reply.

The nurse rolled her eyes upwards and gave a shake of her head, "He is all yours Miss!" and walked out of the room.

The unkempt man didn't seem to care about Nicky's presence anymore after the first glance; he was busy putting on his shabby clothing. Nicky could see that he was rather tall now that he was standing upright, probably about 6' 3".

"Hi…" said Nicky tentatively.

"What do you want?" growled the unkempt man without turning back to look at her.

"I…wanted to tell you… how sorry I was…for knocking you down," said Nicky apologetically.

The unkempt man turned back and glared at her for a second then turned back and continued with his task.

"Look mister, the doctor said it would be better if you stay here for another day or two just in case you might have a hairline fracture," said Nicky helpfully repeating the doctor's words to the man.

The man simply refused to answer her at all now. He had finished putting on his clothes and pulled out a pair of gloves and pulled them on. Hmm, he must've forgotten to put them on earlier but now in his sober state had put them back on. He brushed past her to get out of the room. He strode over to the registration counter and began to fill in the forms.

"Here, let me take care of the bill, I can use my insurance." offered Nicky as she put her bag of groceries on the counter to reach into her handbag.

The man didn't seem to hear her but continued with his registration then pulled out his insurance card and handed it to the nurse, Nicky frowned at his cold attitude.

The man continued to ignore her and walked off after completing the procedure. Nicky chased after him, trying to keep up with his long stride. Nicky noted he didn't seem to be drunk anymore; the knock must've cleared his brain. They came to the lobby and Nicky could see it was raining heavily outside now but he didn't seem to be bothered with the weather and walked straight out into the pouring rain.

Nicky's natural instinct as a social worker kicked in and immediately followed him out into the rain, after a while she was totally soaked to the bones. The unkempt man kept on walking, turning and twisting at corners and running across the streets uncaring about the honking vehicles. Nicky still pursued relentlessly on - running behind him and never letting him out of sight. She felt like an idiot but she wanted to make sure he reached home safely, that was if he even had one. Finally they arrived at a very rundown apartment, the unkempt man pressed a number on the side panel and pushed the lobby door opened. He disappeared inside and Nicky hurried through too before the door closed on her.

At the stairs landing the man turned back and glared at her, "Why are you following me?"

She was beginning to feel the chill and stammered through chattering teeth, "I…I jus…just want to…to make sure you're…al…alright."

"Go home little girl!" growled the man and bounded up to the second floor.

Nicky frowned.

Little girl?

She had heard that somewhere before!

His apartment was right at the end of the corridor. He inserted a key into the door but did not unlock it. Instead he turned back to Nicky again.

"If you insist on following me, maybe I should take you to bed. I could use a little body warmth in this cold weather since I don't own a heater!" said the unkempt man and giving her a lewd grin.

Nicky gulped down a gasp and backed away from him slightly, fully aware of his meaning. Nicky could see his mouth and teeth now through those bushy facial hairs of his when he had grinned at her. Surprisingly he had very nice, even, white clean teeth, very out of place with his whole appearance.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you…"

"Yes! You've told me that already - to make sure I'm alright. Now scoot before I changed my mind and take you into my bed." He warned again.

Nicky was determined not to let him intimidate her with his vulgar suggestion; she scrounged through her bag and drew out a card and inched closer and hand it to him. He didn't take it but just stared at her. Nicky then slipped the card into his shabby front pocket.

"Here is my card. I'm a social worker. If you need anything you can give me a call." That said she hurried away from him and back out to the street.

The rain had somewhat cleared off, but the sky was still gloomy, then she remembered her bag of goodies that she had left at the hospital, she decided to go back and get them.

* * * * *

"Hi, I'm sorry. I was wondering if you've seen a bag of groceries? I left it here earlier…" said Nicky to the counter nurse.

"Ah, yes, I thought if you weren't coming back for it, I'll take it home later to make a nice supper." Said the nurse playfully as she bent below the counter to retrieve the bag of groceries.

Just then Nicky remembered she didn't know the unkempt man's name. The nurse stood up with her bag of groceries.

"Err…nurse Madison," as she peered at the nurse nametag, "Would it be possible to give me the name of that man I brought in earlier? Well, I'm a social worker and I thought he might need some help and since I was the one that caused him to have a bump…"

Nicky hurriedly delved into her bag to draw out her social worker ID and her name card for Nurse Madison to verify.

"I suppose so. Just give me a min," said nurse Madison. She scanned through the registration book and then announced to Nicky,

"Ah…the name was Eric Dillon, age 32. You need his address?" said nurse Madison.

Nicky's eyes popped wide with surprise, no wonder he looked so familiar! She 'saw' him everyday in her living room! Well, it was his picture on the three CDs she owned. His full name was Eric Jordan Dillon and was once an up and coming pianist whose music captured the hearts of millions of Americans especially the females. At the age of twenty-six his first album 'Midnight Run' sold more than 5 million copies in its' first week of release. And at twenty-seven he released another two more albums, which hit number one spot on the music chart and stayed at the top for more than three months each, breaking all other previous pop pianist records.

On the eve of his 28th birthday he was supposed to meet up with some friends to celebrate his birthday but he never made it to the restaurant. On the way there two men in a pickup truck had smashed into his Ferrari and he had gotten out of his car to confront the men when it turned ugly. The two thugs apparently had beaten him up so bad that they even broke his fingers and one of his pinkies were being chopped off while the other one had to be amputated because the bones were too smashed up that it was impossible to put it back together again.

The assailants were never found. After the incident, he never played again and slowly he faded from the public view and music scene. Nobody knew what happened to him after that except a couple of his few close friends who declined to talk about him when being approached by the media. Sometime later, Peter Selleck who used to be Eric's close friend married his ex-fiancée and Peter Selleck went on to become the next top pianist.

Nicky was one of his fans. She remembered she had gone to his first live performance after the release of his second album, which sold out to a full house. After the performance, she, like all other adoring fans had gone to the back stage door to wait for him hoping to get an autograph. When he made his appearance the fans went wild and almost mobbed him. Thanks to the securities officers there, the fans were finally persuaded to form a line and Eric promised them he would sign each and everyone's album. When it came to her turn, she went all red and tongue-tied. She could only looked at him in awe and he had smiled at her with his heart-melting smile.

"What's your name little girl?" he asked charmingly.

"Nic…Nicky Whit…Whitley," she stammered and blushing a bright red.

And Eric had signed her album - 'From Eric to Nicky. May you find love and fulfillment in my music. Love Eric' - and even drew a heart on her album.

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she did not realize Nurse Madison was calling her.

"Miss. Whitley? Are you alright?"

"Oh, oh! Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for the information," said a startled Nicky as she snapped out of her reverie.

Nicky got home to her own small but cozy two rooms apartment. She had shifted to Gloucester County, Philadelphia five years ago and graduated three years ago with a BSW. She loved her work. It gave her a sense of great satisfaction knowing she was able to help less fortunate people who were not as lucky even though her work hours were inconsistent and the pay was just mediocre.

She went over to her hi-fi and put on Eric's disc. His music never failed to soothe her tired mind or lift her spirit when she felt down or troubled. As she put the pasta into the pot of boiling water, her thoughts turned back to Eric Jordan Dillon. She could sense his bitterness and anger even though he had acted tough and boorish, but there was still a fire in those ocean deep blue-green eyes of his. There must be something she could do for him - to counsel him, to make him face his demons, his challenges again? What else could a disabled ex-pianist do besides playing piano? Compose music? Be a music conductor? Or an arranger? Maybe became a social worker like her?

Whatever it was to be, Nicky was determined to help him even if it meant on her own personal time. She felt it was such a waste of that talent of his. What he needed now was someone to prod him, to bring him out of his shell again, to tell him it wasn't the end of the world just because he could not play the piano again. If Beethoven could continue to compose music when he had gone deaf, why couldn't he?

But first she needed to break through that invisible barrier of his. He had cut himself from the outside world far too long; she doubted he even knew who he really was anymore apart from wallowing in self-pity and anger.

Tomorrow she would approach her boss and make known her intention to help Eric. This would be one of her biggest challenge if she succeeded in turning Eric Jordan Dillon, the once well-known pianist life around. Feeling very please with herself she turned back to her cooking. "Oh no! Drat!" She groaned. She had overcooked the pasta and it was now too soggy and starchy.

* * * * *

"Are you sure it's him, Nicky?" her boss asked her excitedly.

Her boss, Mimi Black outwardly looked stern and authoritative but was actually a warm-hearted, bubbly woman of forty-nine and she was a fan of Eric Dillon too.

"It's him alright. I don't know about others but I definitely won't forget his music," said Nicky, "or his eyes,"

"But how are you going to help him when no one refer him and I doubt he will come in himself. You just can't go to his place and counsel him," said Mimi

"Why not? I AM a social worker, am I not? And he does look like he needed all the help he could get," argued Nicky.

"Well, I don't know anything about a disabled ex-pianist but I doubt they are very approachable," said Mimi.

"You bet he is not. Definitely not friendly but I'll break through to him," she promised.

"So when are you going to start on him?" asked Mimi.

"I think today will be just fine," said Nicky.

"Ok, you'll understand this is off the record and you'll be on your own and I didn't hear it from you unless you get a referral," said Mimi in all seriousness now.

"I know, I know. I just want to let you know what I'm doing and not skiving," said Nicky as she gave Mimi her brightest prettiest smile.

Oftentimes Nicky and her colleagues of this non-profit social worker center would do things out of the extraordinary like helping people they picked off the street, just like that, with no referrals. Many times they would received complaints from other social welfare centers that they were out of line in their duties but Nicky and her colleagues would prefer to call it 'going that extra mile' and Nicky was well known for her 'notoriety' in rebelling against the rigid rules and regulations of the social worker's association.

* * * * *

She had gone to his apartment to look for him but he wasn't in. Must have gone drinking again, she thought. So she had walked across the street to wait for him to come back. She had grab a hotdog, a tuna sandwich and a chocolate milkshakes from the little eatery not far from his apartment and continued to wait for him but he didn't return till way past 9pm. He didn't look drunk tonight but he was still unkempt and was still wearing yesterday shabby clothes, hurriedly she walked across the street to him.

"Hi," she greeted him enthusiastically and noticed he had a pair of gloves on again.

He stopped for a second but did not turn around then continued to press his unit number on the side panel, and the door swung opened and stepped through it. Nicky followed him in and up to his floor when suddenly he turned around and pushed her up against the sidewall. Nicky was caught off guard with his action. She gasped loudly more out of pain than fear.

"What do you want? Why are you following me?" he demanded in a snarl.

"I…I'm not following you. I just want to see how you are? If your head was alright?" she rasped, her breathing ragged.

He stared into her eyes; angry blue-green ones against frightened golden brown ones. He was so close she could feel his beard scratching her soft facial skin and his breath on her, there was a hint of alcohol smell on his breath. Slowly he released her and she slid off the wall, her knees buckling slightly.

"Don't come here anymore. You're not welcome!" he warned and turned to walk down to the end of the corridor to his unit.

Nicky was obstinately determined to help him whether he objected to it or not, if she failed at least she knew she had given her best shot, and so far she had never failed in any of her assignments and she wasn't going to let this be her first failure.

"I just want to help!" said Nicky a little louder after him.

"Help? Why would I need your help? I don't need anyone's help," he replied fiercely.

"I know who you are! You're Eric Jordan Dillon! The pianist!" said Nicky firmly.

She saw his body go rigid at the mention of his name and waited with bated breath for his outbursts of anger. It didn't come.