Falling Down

Eric squinted through the murky haze, the house lights were down and the vibe in the club was expectant, and, much to his surprise, he found her. She was sitting at her usual table…just off to the left near the bar. She may have been crying but he would have expected that; he hadn’t expected her to stay for the second show though.

The audience began to stir restlessly and he his shifted his gaze allowing her face to be replaced by the warm golden glare of the spotlight. He shifted on his stool and cleared his throat. Guitar in hand he leaned slightly forward towards the mike. He hoped that the imprint of Carole’s hand…on the cheek where she had slapped him before fleeing the dressing room leaving a torrent of tears and curses in her wake…didn’t appear as fiery and accusing on the outside as it felt on the inside.

“Good evening,” he said, his amplified words echoing through the hushing din of the club. The audience applauded affectionately and then settled down to be entertained. He took a deep breath and found his finger placements on the guitar strings. “This first song is for someone very close to me.” He paused, praying that Carole wouldn’t think that he was mocking her, and then he began to play.

“You’re going to miss me,” she had stated resolutely. “I don’t know why you’re doing this…you might want to hide forever but you can’t…”

He’d measured his words carefully and only then did he reply. “I’m doing the best I can here, Carole,” he said, hoping his words sounded more sincere than they felt. “You said you wanted me to be honest with you and that’s what I’m trying to do…” He hesitated and then, before he could stop himself, he added, “It’s not about you, it’s about me…”

Her open hand had come around so swiftly that he barely saw it coming. “Bastard!” she hissed as he reeled from the force of the blow. Carole had spun on her heels stormed away before he could say anything else.

He had stood there rubbing his cheek and trying to harden his heart against her. He wanted to call after her with one last cutting retort. Instead he had stood there rubbing his cheek and trying to soften his cowardly heart. He wanted to run after her and beg her to stay. He had stood there rubbing his cheek and watching the door slam shut separating the two of them with harsh finality.

Eric turned to where he knew Carole was sitting, though the spotlight and the haze made it difficult to make her out, and he began to sing…

…you tell me that I’m falling down,
a drifter with no role,
you tell me that I need a friend
to help me take control…
well, let it be, I’m not alone
I’m only lonely see
and you can’t tell me where to go
or what or who to be…

“I’m not good at this,” he had told her. “People always let you down…so I put my faith in my music…it’s the one constant I can trust…”

Carole had kissed his cheek and hugged him with almost maternal patience. “You just hadn’t found the right one,” she cooed soothingly. “I won’t betray you…and I won’t smother you. What’s to be afraid of?”

“A heart breaking.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Both of ours.”

“Silly boy,” she had replied with quiet assurance, “that won’t happen. You just have to have a little faith.”

…I am exactly what I am
and the not the way you’d like to see me be,
I look outside long as I can,
then close my eyes and watch my world
unfold before me…

“Where are you?” she had asked as they lay in bed. “Why won’t you let me in?”

“I’m right here,” he had replied, annoyed at feeling of being cornered. “I’m right where I said I’d be.”

“Well maybe where you said you’d be is not a healthy place to be…”

“Maybe not,” he had responded ruefully, “but that change the fact that it is indeed where I am…”

…I may not lead a simple life,
I’ve no love of my own,
if no one gives me all her heart
I’ll manage with a loan,
I’m very used to feeling sad
it doesn’t make me cry
and yes, I do know how to love,
so what you say’s a lie…

Eric saw movement in the darkness. Carole, her eyes red but resolved, stepped into the edge of the spotlight. Her expression was withering…a daunting mixture of pain, pity, scorn, love, and compassion. She shook her head sadly and mouthed the words, “your loss.” She turned and walked, head erect, out of the spotlight and on out of the club.

Eric pushed back the lump in his throat and continued to sing…

…I am exactly what I am
and the not the way you’d like to see me be,
I look outside long as I can,
then close my eyes and watch my world
unfold before me…

“You Tell Me That I’m Falling Down”
words and music by Anna McGarrigle & C.S. Holland
© 1975 Garden Court Music (ASCAP)