The Dissonant Ballad of Eric Noble: conclusion

Vince cursed Shannon's name, and his cushy upbringing as he noticed the van passing. He started to chase after it, but realized he had no chance of catching up. Christine just kept walking, making her way up an off-ramp to what she hoped lead to sanity, or at least a truck stop where she could wait for a ride. Eric was stone-faced, unmoved by being abandoned in the middle of nowhere. He felt nothing as he made his way up the off-ramp. His only thought was finding a new home, and starting over again.

Vince got on his phone, and tried calling Shannon, but Shannon had no intention of answering. He drove for several miles until he realized Kevin's corpse was still in the back, and started looking for signs that led to a hospital. He was planning to go back home, and beg his parents to help him move away. It was approaching 3am when Shannon's eyes started getting heavy. He knew that if he could just make it to a hospital, he could dump the body, and head home, but the road began hypnotizing him.

The only thing that added variety to the scenery were the green signs on the highway, but at this point, even the words started looking the same. Shannon turned up the stereo to block out his thoughts, and revive his energy. All the guilty feelings in the world weren't going to make him turn around, and deal with this nightmarish tour any longer. This was his vehicle, and he wanted to go home, so he cut his losses. He was doing his best to rationalize abandoning the others, telling himself they didn't like him anyway; of this much, he was correct.

The Dissonant Ballad of Eric Noble: part four

They were almost at the venue when Shannon chimed in with “Let's just wrap him in a blanket for now so no one sees him, and we'll drop him off at a hospital on the way back”. Christine stared daggers through Shannon before saying, “We are not giving Kevin the homie drop! Fuck that, and fuck you for saying it”. The two of them argued back, and forth debating a dignified death versus covering their own asses. Eventually it was agreed that any hope of dignity was gone upon the release of Kevin's bowels.

“The longer we wait, the worse we look” said Vince, “they already might think we killed him.” Eric was regaining his composure as they pulled into the driveway of tonight's venue, a block building beside a couple modest houses in the middle of nowhere. “Just cover him up for now at least, it's too late to do anything about it right now.” said Eric, deadpan, and disenchanted. He stepped out of the van, and surveyed the block, contemplating a new life in this area. He was sure this trip was the worst decision he ever made, perhaps things would start looking up with a fresh start in a new town.

“How are we supposed to play this show anyway? What are we even doing here?!” said Shannon, as Vince, and Christine started pulling out gear. “I don't know” was the only response either of them offered until Eric spoke up “I know all the words”. No one was sure if it was a good idea, but they decided to play the show with Eric filling in on vocals. For now, they were going to pretend that their friend, and former vocalist wasn't dead in the back of their van. They convinced themselves that the show must go on. Procrastination was much easier than dealing with their problems head on.

The Dissonant Ballad of Eric Noble: part three

They were almost in Birmingham when Julius finally woke up. A balled-up fast food bag was flung at his head by Shannon, emitting a surprisingly loud “smack” upon impact. Julius began shaking Kevin who was laying on top of him, but got no response. Faces became grim, and panicked as Julius shook harder, this time raising his voice. “Kevin, get up!” he repeated, each time sounding more rattled than before; panic was spreading through the van.

Christine rushed to the back of the van, and pulled Kevin upright. She opened his eyes with her fingers, and yelled at him to wake up, but he was gone. Eric went into a daze, sounds became muffled, and time dragged to a near standstill. Vince was pulling over, and trying to not seem as terrified as he was; all things considered, he did a great job. Shannon sat there, mouth agape as he made eye contact with Eric. Neither had any words for this situation, only disbelief. Eric kept hoping this was just a nightmare, but the empty feeling in his chest was all too real. He felt light-headed, and couldn't focus, so he just closed his eyes, and curled up on his seat.

It was around this time that everyone started to notice the smell. Even by touring van standards, this was ungodly. Kevin's body was starting to become stiff, and his pants were soaked, front, and back. This wasn't the first time Kevin had soiled himself in his sleep, but it would be his last. Everyone still in the realm of the living piled out of the van to collect their thoughts. Christine was pacing, and fighting back tears as Vince stared off into space, eventually breaking the silence with “What the fuck do we do now?!” through a cracked voice.

The Dissonant Ballad of Eric Noble: part two

Day two of this tour was starting the same way night one finished. Eric noticed he was drifting into space when Shannon finally opened his eyes completely, and groaned “You're gonna be dumb all day now smoking that crap.” Eric wondered how true that was, but he also wasn't even sure if he liked Shannon. Ever since he went “straight edge” he's been getting annoying; always making comments about everyone's drinking, and smoking. Everyone hoped this was just another one of his phases.

It was quiet apart from chewing sounds as sunlight filled the room that Saturday morning. Christine seemed to just laugh about the damage to her current home. There were piles of tape-covered plastic in corners beside buckets, and bags of trash. Everything was covered in glitter, and confetti; even the cat's ass was glowing in the dark. Empty beer boxes housing other empty beer boxes were strewn about, as were plenty of empty cans. Of course, someone left a full beer sitting out. Kevin noticed the straggling can as he finished his first, quickly checking it for cigarette butts before chugging it down.

“We've only got 30 minutes before we have to leave, let's clean up.” said Christine, ever diligent. Everyone started rounding up bags, boxes, bottles, and cans to throw away. Shannon played the Benny Hill theme song on his phone. Eric politely chuckled, but felt as if everyone else was growing tired of the dumb jokes, and poor effort too. Shannon didn't even play well last night, flubbing notes during several unexpected, improvised guitar solos. However, not much could have dampened last night's mood, it was a fleshy mound erupting with jubilant chaos.

The Dissonant Ballad of Eric Noble: part one

The air was rife with stale cigarette smoke, and bad decisions. The room spun, and slowly came into focus just long enough to find a clear path to a trash can. Between heaves, Eric thought to himself how it was funny that the taste of stomach bile reminded him of warm citrus soda. He laid down in the floor once he was finished, thinking of how nice the cold kitchen tile felt on his face. His moans must have woken someone, he could hear movement coming from the couch, but didn't have the energy to turn in that direction.

“Oh good, you didn't miss the trash can!” laughed Christine, the host of last night's festivities. Eric rolled over, and tried getting up, but didn't have the strength. He came face to face with a crushed beer can under a cabinet, and felt his stomach turn. He bolted upright for quick access to the plastic bin he had been holding, but the nausea passed for now. “You want food, right?” asked Christine, stepping over empty cases of beer, and a pile of silent protest from the cat.

Eric moaned in agreement along with the other guys in the living room. There was another show to play that night about 3 hours away, and he wasn't certain of this new city's hospitality. He thought that realistically, this could be their only meal for the day. Bodies began slowly moving through the house, leaning against walls for balance, and digging around in ashtrays. Eric relocated to the couch beside Julius, the other “roadie” for this trip. Neither one had ever left their hometowns for longer than a night or two, but that would change before nightfall.