Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 THE CURSE

   By KATZMAREK(C)

   Chapter Eleven.

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   Mick Johnson thought the World was a beautiful place.  He sat in his
chair on the deck, puffing peacefully on a cigarette and feeling the silky
touch of the sea breeze on his chest.  Michelle and Anna had taken Emily
over to see the Dodger and the peace they left behind in their place was
almost scary.

   He heard a car come up the drive and sighed to himself.  Putting out his
cigarette, he wondered why they were back so early.

   However the figure that rounded the corner of the house was way too vast
to be Anna or Michelle.  It was none other than his pal Freddie, and he
came toting a six pack of brews.

   "Here," he said, tossing Mick a beer, "thought you might be alone.  Mind
if I hide away for a while?"

   "Be my guest," Mick smiled.  "Dare I ask how the wedding plans are
going?"

   "Nope," he shivered, "and how's domestic life here in the hills?"

   "Funny how something so small can take over the house."

   "Oh, yeah," he chuckled.  "Sleeping nights?"

   "Some.  Michelle spends a lot of time in with Anna.  They kind of do the
feeding gig together and the changing nappies and all that shit."

   "Oh, good set up, Mick," Freddie laughed, "leaving you to peaceful
slumber?  It'd work for me."

   "Sure, Freddie, but, ah..."

   "Feel like a sperm donor?"

   "Exactly!"

   Freddie produced a couple of cigars from his pocket and handed one to
Mick.  Mick, himself, wasn't allowed to smoke anywhere near baby and
preferably not at all.  Michelle insisted Emily's health might be at risk
even if she got a whiff of smoke from his clothes.

   "Fuck 'em.  Fuck 'em all, eh, Mick?" Freddie said, blowing out a huge
cloud of smoke.

   "Yeah, Freddie.  Say?" Mick said, turning to his friend, "y'fancy
playing the blues?"

   "Hmm," he considered, "it's a beautiful day and we've nothing to do
except sit out the back of your million dollar hillside villa.  Before us
is a stunning sea view with the Pacific as clear as you'll ever see it. 
We're smoking 50 buck Havanas that even the Yanks can't get because of
their Cuban trade embargo.  We've just released a CD internationally that
looks like it'll start to chart soon in the US - the most challenging
market in the World.  I think it's an appropriate time for the blues,
Mick," he grinned.

   "Oh, yeah!" Mick laughed, before sprinting for his Ovation acoustic
guitar.

   Meanwhile, Karen and Junior were out and about.  They decided to go for
a morning hike around the coast with lunch packed into their napsacks. 
Around noon, they reached an area called the 'seven beaches,' where six
ancient beaches had risen up the cliff face as a result of seismic
uplifting.  They unpacked their lunch and settled down to watch the sea.

   Karen noticed Junior had his head in his hands and looked miserable. 
"What's wrong, babe?" she asked.

   "Shoulda just bolted down to the Registry Office," he said.  "Mum's
driving me nuts."

   "Well, likely you're the only son she's going to see get married."

   "True."

   "So she wants to make the best of the occasion.  I sorta understand."

   "You heard from your folks?"

   "Hiking in the Klondike.  Can you fucking believe it?  At their age?"

   "So they're not coming back for the wedding?"

   "Uh, uh!  We talked about it on the phone.  It'll cost them a lot of
money..."

   "So?"

   "No, Jun', that ain't all.  They just don't feel right about it.  It's
not that you're a Gentile - they're not that Orthodox, y'know.  This whole
rock scene - it's a foreign culture.  I know everyone would do their best
to make them welcome, I know that.  Jun', they're real conservative and I
don't think they'll cope."

   "Even for their only daughter?"

   "Yeah!  Mum said her and dad will pray for us.  Y'know what I think?"

   "Huh?"

   "They want the full Jewish thing.  I think we should give them that when
they get back.  What do you say, huh?"

   "Oh, no!  You saying we gotta change everything?"

   "Hell, no!  We could have another ceremony with a Rabbi and the glasses
- all that shit.  I'd like to do that for them, Jun', it'll be fun, you'll
see."

   "Y'reckon?"

   "Yeah!"

   "So we have to do it all over again?  With mum..."

   "Oh you haven't met my Mother, have you?  Terry's an apprentice when it
comes to her."

   "Oh, shit, no!"

   "Hey, we could get my birth mother to come, maybe?  Y'think Mick'll
cope?"

   "Dunno, babe, dunno!" Junior replied, shaking his head.

   The Curse was due to assemble the following week to go into rehearsal
for a short tour of the country.  Dates overseas were being finalised -
Australia and Japan seemed likely - Europe was on the cards and perhaps,
just perhaps, the glittering prize of the USA.

   Anna was already busy selecting her wardrobe for the tour.  Apart from
The Curse's original crew, they were obliged to hire a couple more roadies.
This show was to be bigger, with more equipment and, perhaps, more at
stake. A stadium concert was planned for Auckland.  The Curse had never
played outdoors before so it was very much a step into the unknown.  Most
of the new album was to be showcased, of course, plus 'Darkside' - revamped
and rearranged.

   Terry volunteered to care for Emily during the tour.  Anna insisted on a
personal assistant and her Rumanian gay friend Dimitru was put on the
payroll.  They acquired a full-time lighting team of two, a sound assistant
for Junior, two stage hands for moving the gear, and a minder - a six foot
ex gang member.  The host could just squeeze comfortably into the tour bus
- an ex Inter-City, 48 seat Denning with a massive Detroit Diesel at the
back.  Somewhere behind, the gear was being transported by a rented semi,
towed by a Cummings-powered Peterbilt.

   Mick mused their first tour was moved around in a couple of vans, with
everyone finding places on top of the amps.  They were now a travelling
roadshow ensconced in something like luxury, with video games, TV,
reclinable seats and a washroom.

   After a week's winding up, they hit the road for the first of massive
concerts in the major population centres.  Bookings had been heavy, with a
likely turn out of around 12,000 for their first gig.  It was faintly
reminiscent of Japan, but this country had a far smaller population and the
band was near overwhelmed by the response.

   Saturation radio airplay had kept the band in the news for a week.  The
second album was zooming up the charts - entering at 4 and heading
skywards. Arriving at Auckland, they were whisked straight to the hotel and
the grinding duty of the media.

   Anna, Michelle and Mick worked the press in shifts.  Karen was not
comfortable in front of reporters and she and Junior tucked themselves
away. In the main, the questions were softball, and Sony had their media
guy on hand to ensure they stayed that way.  No questions about Mal 'The
Man' Mouton were permitted.  The press interviews were managed and
manipulated to ensure the maximum possible exposure sans scandals of any
kind.

   After dinner there was a rest period before sound check and the concert
at eight.  Anna did her voice exercises, Michelle played with and fed
Emily, Mick fiddled with his guitars and Karen limbered up with her floor
routine.  Freddie was at the stadium bullying the crew and ensuring the
stage rig was perfect for his band.  Junior, his status enhanced now he had
an assistant, fretted over the sound desk and mikes, swore loudly at last
minute hiccups, and was thoroughly enjoying himself.

   A High School rockband warmed up the crowd.  They'd won some local
competition and this was the prize.  To play in a stadium in front of
12,000 people as a first public gig was likely an experience they'd
remember forever.  The kids, average age 15, put on a stirling effort, ably
assisted by Freddie, and the crowd appreciated it.  The applause that
accompanied them offstage was thunderous.  This was all good for The Curse
- the audience was in a receptive, generous and happy mood.

   The Curse opened with a piece from Led Zep's 'Dazed and Confused' as a
kind of an overture.  It was slow, bluesy, and Karen could let loose with a
'Bonzo' Bonham style, heavy hitting thrash.  Mick spied Michelle shaking to
the beat, plucking the bass with her thumb pick, just grooving in some
faraway place.  For a moment, The Curse reminded him of the seventies'
power bands and it felt good, real good!

   From the sublime to the ridiculous, he thought.  Their current single
had to be played, though none of them liked it.  Not that the crowd cared
one whit, for they hooted, hollered, sang along and waved their arms.  Anna
did the big entry, with her high boots, clinging violet tights and black,
lacey, halter top.  She strode to the front of the stage, bent, and roared
at the front row.  Mick thought they all rocked back in their seats, but
all of them wore the same, stupid, ecstatic grins on their faces.

   They ran through the first 4 numbers in quick succession.  They were all
rapid, rocking, and very loud.  The audience was blowing, panting like
steam engines, and it was time to change the pace.  The Curse would
showcase, 'You Burn Me,' the slow number they hoped to persuade Sony to
release as their third single off the album.

   Mick played the opening lick and, from the crowd's response, most had
heard it from the CD.  There were whistles and catcalls and some girl
climbed on a guy's shoulders for a better look.  Mick had moved to the
front of the stage and an arm shot out, nearly propelling him into the
audience.  Experience gave him a sixth sense, however, and he hopped away
smoothly.  Rangi, their security guy, hovered just off stage ready to
bounce offenders clear out the door.

   Anna had a tough job with the first verse.  The crowd was still buzzing
from the opening numbers.  She managed, and Michelle stepped forward for
the chorus.  That did it - Anna circled her friend and hugged her.  With
the height difference Michelle's head tucked under her arm.  The crowd went
wild with the display of affection and cries of 'we love you Anna' could
clearly be heard.  A single red rose hit the stage followed by a 'B' cup
bra.  Mick absently scanned the crowd for its owner, but it was an
impossible mission.

   At the finish, Anna bent and hit Michelle with a smacker to the lips. 
Again, the crowd screamed.  Mick thought The Curse could do anything
tonight.  It was one of those occasions when the band was golden and they
could've recited the telephone book and got an applause.

   By the end of the set, several more items of underwear littered the
stage, as well as notes, cards, flowers and a teddy bear.  Why someone
would take a teddy to a concert was anyone's guess.

   The band clambered into a van at the back of the stage area and were
driven back to the hotel.  They had to enter by the hotel's back doors
because of the fans who'd turned up at the front.  A light supper had been
laid on, but the band was exhausted and didn't stay long.  They had another
gig the next night and needed to pace themselves.

   Anna crashed almost straight away so Michelle joined Mick with Emily
next door.  It had been a wee while since Mick had Michelle all to himself.
She curled into him lovingly before drifting off to sleep.

   The band had delivered, and Sony, the promoters, management, and anyone
that could claim a piece of their success were ecstatic.  Reviews were
equally ebbulent, of course, with each reviewer claiming they knew The
Curse were going to be huge.

   Overseas dates firmed on the back of their domestic success - Japan,
Australia, Europe and the UK and, yes, a fall tour of the States.  Three
months on the road became four, then five and six.  Sony opened the
treasure chest and they now had solid promotion in advance of their
concerts and CD release.

   Japan was equally triumphant and Australia was sold out inside a day. 
They hadn't yet been to Europe and the CD had only shortly been released.
Consequently, the crowds were smaller, but the band enjoyed the respite. 
After exhausting concerts in Japan and Australia it was good to get back to
the smaller, more intimate, venues where Anna could better work her magic.

   The band left Europe with the CD hovering at number 8 - a good result
for a band only recently arriving over the horizon there.  It was now back
home for a couple of weeks before heading to the States.  Karen, Junior and
Terry had organised the wedding for that time with a short honeymoon in
Rarotonga.

   Disputes over the venue were solved when Terry and Karen agreed on
hiring a country garden for the afternoon.  It was neutral territory and
there ought to be few complaints.  Anna was enlisted as Karen's bridesmaid,
a role she intended to play to the hilt, and Mick stood in for Karen's dad.

   Tradition was set aside when the bridal party was given the freedom to
organise their own costumes.  Mick's was a white tuxedo with a white
tophat. On his breast he wore a red, sprigged camillia and a blue,
polka-dotted handkerchief.  Anna opted for a dress, rather than the tights
- red, low cut and stunning.  No way was Anna going to be upstaged, even by
the bride.

   Michelle wore white as well - a neat summer dress with a camillia like
Mick's.  Junior wore a hired dark suit and the bride, a broiderie anglais
laced wedding dress from a local designer.

   Karen looked petrified during the ceremony and Mick felt her shaking
beside him.  He tried to calm her down with a little chat and a reassuring
hand on her back.  She managed the lines, however, in a small voice Mick
could barely hear.  Junior was a little more relaxed as if this was another
of his gadgets that just needed fixing.  Vows said, Karen practically
collapsed into Junior's arms as he kissed her firmly.  They clung to each
other like glue until the attention shifted off them a little for the
reception.

   True to his word, Freddie had been drinking before the wedding and
continued to do so afterwards.  Unsteadily, he toasted the couple, slurring
his words occasionally with Terry glaring at him the whole time.

   Mick was more composed, taking his official role seriously.  Karen was
such a good person, a keen and vital member of the band, and he was fond of
her.  He didn't want to screw up the big occassion by getting drunk.

   Karen and Junior performed the tradition waltz around the garden before
retreating as fast as they could once other couples joined in.  Neither
were keen dancers and Karen found the attention hard-going.

   This was Anna's territory and she hauled her friend Dimitru to his feet
and gave an exhibition of sexy lambada that had everyone on their feet
clapping.  It was during this display that Junior sauntered over to Mick
and Michelle and asked for a quiet chat

   Junior was as nervous as Mick had ever seen him.  He told them that
Karen had something to tell them both and could they come down the garden
away from the noise.  Mick looked at Michelle puzzled.  He wondered what
grave news they had to tell them.

   Karen was waiting for them behind an immense Acacia tree.  Again she was
shaking and she had her head bowed, as if at confession.

   "What's the matter, Karen?" Michelle asked, concerned.

   "Hey, don't say you've changed your mind," said Mick, trying to be
funny. "We've got some twink if you want to delete your signature."

   "No, not that," she said.  Junior put his arm around her protectively.
Mick thought the boy was quite a guy and had displayed way more maturity
than the average 18 year old.

   "Do you want to scoot?" suggested Michelle.  "We'll cover for you if..."

   "No, it's alright.  I want to stay."

   "Karen's got something to tell you, Mick, haven't you, babe?"

   She nodded slowly.  "Um, I'm really sorry, Mick," she began, slowly,
head still bowed.  "I know I should have told you from the beginning."

   "Told me what?" Mick replied, puzzled.

   "My parents - ah, my parents are not my birth parents.  They..."

   "Hmm?" Mick said, a prickly feeling beginning to develop on the nape of
his neck.

   "They adopted me when I was a baby.  I, uh, never knew my real mother,
um, nor my father.  I didn't know I was even adopted till I was eighteen."

   "Can't be!" Mick said, his eyes wide, his jaw sagging.

   "My real mother was from Israel."

   "Fuck!" Mick exclaimed.

   "Mick?" Michelle looked at him, astonished.

   "Yeah, Israel," Karen continued.  "I know she was from Haifa and she had
dark hair."

   "Did she?" Mick managed a grin, "I never knew her real colour."

   "It was dark.  I have a copy of her birth certificate."

   "Ah!"

   T"I know I shoulda said something before now.  I'm so sorry you had to
go through..."

   "Hey!  What better occasion, eh?  I mean..."

   "Can you get in touch with my mother, Mick?  We're going to have a
Jewish ceremony when my folks get back.  I'd really like my mum..." She
couldn't continue and broke down in tears.

   "Hey, I know Sabra would be absolutely rapt." Mick advanced and took his
daughter in his arms.  "She'll be back here pronto.  Y'know, she never
wanted to give you away, but things were different in those days."

   "I know, Mick.  This is such a fucking unbelievable day, I..."

   "Oh, yeah, sure is," Mick agreed.

   "Hey, ah, this makes The Curse into a real family, huh?" Michelle said,
"I mean, everyone's fucking related, for Christ's sake!"

   "Ha, yeah!" agreed Mick.  "Hey, Michelle, why don't we get hitched,
too?"

   "What?" she replied, aghast.  "Are you fucking serious?"

   "Sure, mum!" Karen added, grinning weakly in Mick's arms.

   "You shut up, Karen.  Mick, you getting carried away, or what?  You
better not be on the level."

   "Why not?"

   "Cos, cos, of everything, Mick.  Don't fucking put me in that position.
We're doing fine as we are, aren't we?"

   "Shall we take a vote?  Karen, Junior?"

   "Don't, Mick, you're not funny.  I don't want to get married - not yet,
anyway."

   "Sure," he smiled, "I'll wait a couple of days."

   "Just, just, hang out with your daughter, Mick, and leave me the Hell
alone!" With that she stumped off back to the party.

   "Something I said?" Mick asked Karen and Junior, looking at Michelle's
retreating back.

   "Wouldn't be a wedding without a fight," suggested Junior.

   "True," he grinned, "too true!"

   Karen and Junior left soon after for their honeymoon to the islands.  As
soon as possible Mick called Sabra in California and told her the amazing
news.  She promised she'd be out as soon as she could and couldn't wait for
the Jewish wedding ceremony.

   Michelle remained in a sulk for a couple of days.  That was unusual -
her rare bouts of bad temper rarely lasted a couple of hours.  She stayed
with Anna practically the whole time - the tension was about all Mick could
stand.  When Emily was safely asleep and Anna gone into town, he took the
opportunity and confronted her.

   "We need to talk," he told her.  Michelle was resting on a deck chair
out back.  She looked good, Mick thought, with her tummy now practically
returned to normal.

   "I want to have a nap, Mick, maybe later?"

   "Maybe, now," he insisted.  "You're freezing me out."

   "Am I?" she replied, innocently.

   "Yes."

   "Yeah, well, I'm sorry, Mick.  I'm kinda tired all the time with Emily
and..."

   "So?  Let me take her out to the park for the afternoon?  Give you a
break?"

   "Sure, good idea, babe," she replied, unenthusiastically.

   "So can we stop the bullshit and get down to talking?  This is not about
being tired.  I know you're tired - you've been tired for months but that
hasn't stopped us from taking time out to talk."

   "Ok, ok, what do you want to talk about?"

   "Marrying.  You freaked at Karen's wedding when I brought up the
subject. What was that all about?"

   "You dropped me in it right in front of Karen and Junior.  You
embarrassed me."

   "That all?"

   "Mick, I can't marry you just yet.  You know I can't."

   "I do?  So, we wait.  What's the big deal?"

   "I don't know if I ever can.  It's not you, Mick, it's me.  I love you
to bits and it's so hard..."

   "Anna?"

   "Yeah, well - I asked you once not to force me to choose.  You're still
doing it and it's really unfair."

   "Lately, it seems to me you've already chosen," Mick told her.  "Ever
since Emily was born, it feels like you don't want me around.  I'm just a
roomer, here.  I can't remember the last time we spent the night together.
Maybe on the road once or twice when Anna was asleep and you needed a break
from Emily?"

   "Mick, I, I don't know what to say.  I never meant - I don't want to
lose you, please?  Maybe, I'll sleep with you tomorrow night, if you want?"

   "Y'sure you can fit me in?"

   "Oh, fuck you, Mick!" she rounded on him, "you can't keep the smartarse
comments to yourself, can you?  You're so full of fucking resentment it
just burns you up inside.  You knew what you were getting into, so deal
with it yourself.  This is all about getting your jollies, isn't it?  You
don't give a fuck about me, only about getting a fuck.  Why don't you pick
up some teenage groupie, huh?  You're a big star now, it should be a
cinch."

   "Hey, have a nice life, Michelle.  I'm not taking this shit from you.  I
would've run through hot coals for you naked.  Hey, I was prepared to share
you with another woman so long as we could be together.  But as far as I'm
concerned you can go with your psycho girlfriend and the best of luck. 
Just keep the fucking cutlery out of her reach."

   "Too bad she didn't stick you instead, arsehole!"

   "Fuck you, Michelle!"

   With that, Mick stormed out to his Camarro and thundered up the road,
smoke billowing from the spinning back tyres.  He laid in a course straight
to Freddie's.

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   KATZMAREK(c)