Prologue
Eugene McElhenny raced for the bathroom door at the Steel Town Tavern. A piercing sound had sent his bandmate, Ben Shaporo, out the door to investigate. It could have been a car crash, but it had not been preceded by the screeching of brakes and tires. No, this was either a gunshot or an explosion of some kind. Gene grabbed onto the door handle and opened it a crack, but stopped. He suddenly realized that he was again alone in the bathroom. He slowly closed the door and reflected for the slightest of moments.
Earlier in the evening, Gene had met up with his closest friend and rhythm section partner, Ricky Germaine, at the Steel Town Tavern, one of Fairview, Pennsylvania’s most out of the way watering holes, and the personal preference of both Gene and Ricky. The two young men, both now in their late twenties, had convened to discuss their band, 4F; quite possibly the most well-known and critically-acclaimed band in the world since the turn of the millennium. However, Gene and Ricky had both come to realize over the past couple of years that being in such a band bore a certain and very clear downside to counterbalance the riches and adulation. They would often lament that their occupation was simultaneously the greatest and worst in the world.
It was during this conversation that Ricky, in the midst of confessing to Gene that he was at the end of his rope with the band, produced an envelope, which Gene made disappear into his coat upon the arrival of the band’s other two members, brother guitarist/singers Ben and Eli Shaporo. Gene knew that Ricky wanted out of 4F, but he also knew that it was not quite so cut and dry. One of the many things that had made 4F such a unique band was their now-famous contract that they had signed with each other almost four years prior. The contract stipulated that 4F was never to disband until, or unless, one of them was no longer living. Any band member who would quit the band and breach the contract in the meantime would lose any and all royalties that they had coming, including proceeds from the band’s previous work.
Gene and Ricky each had great affection for both brothers. The band had been formed four years earlier, to the month, and all four members were closer than brothers. They even referred to their intimate group of friends and relatives as the 4F Family. Gene and Ricky had a special bond with Elijah Shaporo. Eli was considered the heart and soul of 4F. He was a performer of such boundless energy and enthusiasm that one would automatically assume that he was the band member with the most problems. Truth be told, Eli was the only member of the band without any kind of addiction. Unlike his bandmates, Eli had nary a trace of a dark side. His only affectation seemed to be his band and its music. He lived for 4F, and nearly everything else came a very distant second. By the time 2003 rolled around, Eli had established himself as one of the top blues-based rock guitarists in the world, as well as a very strong singer and unparalleled performer.
Benjamin Shaporo was considered to be the mysterious member of the band. He certainly was enigmatic in his way, even to his fellow bandmates, who probably knew him better than anyone. Sometimes even his brother did not know what to make of Ben. Ben was reserved, highly intelligent, and rarely, if ever, said anything without thinking it through sufficiently. He almost always served as a calming influence over the band, a stark contrast to the influence provided by his brother. However, as with Eli, appearances were deceiving, as Ben did have a dark side; a gambling habit that, in recent years, had become a full-blow addiction. Along with Eli, Ben was considered an elite guitarist. His direction was more fusion-based than that of his younger brother, but their respective styles always served to compliment and augment each other, as well as the songs of 4F. Their voices, together, comprised two thirds of the finest vocal band around. 4F was known for instrumental virtuosity, unrivaled performances, and indelible songwriting; featuring memorable melodies and themes. Perhaps the thing that stood out most, however, was the fact that there were three top-notch singers in the group; singers that could harmonize at any point in any song, with absolutely immaculate intonation.
Ricky Germaine was the backbone of the group. He was a young man of strong will and character, and he was as consistent a person as one was ever likely to encounter in the topsy-turvy world of popular music. When 4F’s first album, Standing, was released, it immediately became evident that this percussionist would be a force to be reckoned with. His techniques were fresh, his power unmistakable, and his impact upon the music could never be overstated. By 2001, Ricky was considered by most to be the foremost drummer in the world, though he lavished praise on many of his contemporaries. He always alluded to the greats of the past, especially jazz legends such as Max Roach and Buddy Rich, but the few that knew him well knew that Ricky was confident enough in his own abilities to put them up against those of anyone—he was just that good. His consistent personality was tailor-made for percussion. Gene had once said that he had never heard Ricky make a mistake, even when he had made enough for both of them. However, Ricky’s consistent nature worked against him with one particular habit. By 2003, his bourbon consumption had escalated to over a litre a day. Ricky’s poison was Maker’s Mark; a silky smooth, beautifully-crafted bourbon that was never too far from its biggest admirer. Though his drinking did sometimes affect his well-being, it never seemed to hamper Ricky’s percussive capabilities. If he couldn’t stand, somehow he could still play.
Eugene McElhenny was considered to be the creative force behind 4F; the troubled artist, if you will. Though each member of the band was supremely talented, it was Gene that was the principal songwriter. For the first two albums, he had been the only writer of the songs’ basic structures, chords, melodies and lyrics. Only with their recently released album, No Stones Unturned, did 4F branch out with songs written by the other band members. Gene was also the best singer in the band, which was saying something, as both Ben and Eli were better than most lead singers of other bands. Some would have said that Gene was the brains behind 4F, but they would have been incorrect. Though highly cerebral, Eugene McElhenny had periods of inanity. He was an extraordinarily opinionated individual who simply could not keep his mouth shut when his personal take on a subject—any subject—was requested. Gene had, in the past, made a number of proclamations that had gotten the band into hot water. The way he looked at it, his platform had both blessed and burdened him with the duty to share his beliefs, whether they seemed sane or otherwise. If he did not, he would simply be another rock star, and Eugene McElhenny, like Ricky Germaine, was anything but. Even when Gene’s inability to censor his mouth had gotten the band into trouble, not one of his bandmates ever faulted him for being what he was. After all, this was the same person that had come up with the brilliant lyrics to their songs—some of which, they knew, would still be appreciated decades after the band was no more.
Ricky had been on his last legs for a while, ever since 4F’s enormous 2002 World Tour. He had just spent every last ounce of everything he had left to produce ground-breaking work on the new album, and could not imagine ever going on tour again, especially to play what had taken him nearly a month to record. Ricky was on empty—completely spent and an emotional shell. It was this fact that he had imparted to Gene in their earlier conversation. Gene had broken down to Ricky many times in the past, but now, the tables were turned. At first, Gene tried to console his friend, making suggestions on how the band could accommodate him, but he quickly realized the gravity of Ricky’s situation. He had to get out. As Ricky slid the envelope across the table to Gene, he thought to himself that getting out would honestly not be a bad idea for either of them. After all, they both had families, and each of them had enough money for not only his children, but his children’s children. Outside of having to break the news to Eli, leaving the band would present no significant problems, save one. How could they do it without breaching the contract? Could it even be done?
Gene knew not what was in the envelope, but he suspected that it probably had something to do with the contract and with Lee Jethroe, 4’s Manager. Lee was as shrewd a negotiator as could be encountered, and was absolutely unrivaled when it came to making money for his band, and, by extension, himself. Part of the 4F contract stated that Lee was to be paid as a full band member, and had a say in all of the band’s business decisions. Another point of the contract was that all of the band’s decisions would have to be unanimous to be implemented. This gave Jethroe an amazing amount of power. Not since Led Zeppelin’s Peter Grant had a band’s manager had so much clout. At first, only Ricky seemed to have a problem with Jethroe’s inclusion. He was against it initially, but relented. After all, Lee had made his bones by having a very large hand in 4F’s ascension, and was instrumental in monies made from all directions. As the years passed, however, Ricky’s distaste for Lee had grown exponentially. Gene had always liked Lee, but did not fully trust him. Eli seemed oblivious to anything on the business side, and seemed to get along with Lee the same as he did with everyone else; famously. Ben was always a supporter and defender of Lee Jethroe, constantly pointing out that his equal pay and decision-making ability were more than warranted, as he was easily as important to the band’s rise as any other member. Obviously, not everyone agreed with that sentiment.
Ben and Eli were entering the Steel Town just as Ricky was sliding his letter across the table. Gene quickly pocketed the letter and warmly greeted the brothers. Ricky politely excused himself, feigning over-intoxication, and, against Ben’s objections, found his way out the front door to an awaiting cab. Gene talked with the brothers over drinks for a half hour or so, and soon learned the reason for their visit. Eli had recently purchased a classic Cadillac El Dorado, but was leaving for Hawaii the next day with Ben and Lee for a ten day vacation. He wanted Gene to look after the car for him. “Just start it up and drive it a bit every other day, Geno,” he’d said. “A car this cherry is not used to being lonely and idle for ten days, you know?” Gene, of course, would have done it for nothing, but Eli produced a bag of thirty milligram Percocets, which sealed the deal with a gentle narcotic kiss. Gene had developed quite the affinity for painkillers over the past calendar year, a fact which was not lost on anyone close to him.
Gene, like Ricky, had arrived by cab, so Ben and Eli offered to bring him home, on the condition that Gene learn the tricky process of starting and operating the car before they left. Ben paid the bill as Eli went out for a smoke, and Gene made one last trip to the restroom. It was here, in the stall, that he retrieved the envelope from his inner coat pocket and began to read. The first page was a hand-written note from Ricky.
Gene,
Don’t know exactly what this means, but I have a very bad feeling about it. I’m getting lost for a little while, and taking Katie and the kids with me. My cell will be off, but call me if you need me, and I’ll call you back. It might be best for you to do the same. It could just be me, but I think somebody’s got something in store. Read the attached pages and get the fuck out of Dodge. I love you man. Take care of yourself. –Rick
Confused, Gene flipped the page to the back. Ricky sounded terrified. But Ricky was never scared of anything. What the hell was going on? He quickly saw two highlighted sections on the first page. It was a photocopy of what looked to be a page from 4F’s contract. For months, Ricky had been badgering Lee to have a look at the contract, and every attempt was rebuffed expertly. Gene just figured that Lee was side-stepping because he didn’t want Ricky to find some kind of loophole that would allow him to quit the band. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
The first highlighted section stated that any band member convicted of a capital crime would forfeit his place in the band, and all royalties from that point on, including those from previous work. “Big deal,” Gene thought. “We knew that.” Then, he noticed arrows pointing to that section and to another, with the word coincidence? written in between in Ricky’s hand. The second section stated that royalties for deceased band members would be split equally amongst the remaining band members. “Wait!” Gene thought. “We didn’t agree to that! What the—” His eyes widened and his ears went back as he grabbed the sides of the papers tightly, almost ripping them in half. He flipped the page over, revealing a second page that had two more highlighted sections, but was interrupted by Ben opening the bathroom door.
Gene stuffed the envelope back into his pocket and came out to wash his hands, talking briefly with Ben before both were cut off by the loud gunshot-like bang.
“What the fuck was that?” Gene asked, shocked.
Ben hesitated for a moment, wondering the same thing. Then, it seemed as though a lightbulb of terrible realization went off in his mind, and he bolted for the door. Gene followed, grabbed the door and opened it slightly, then closed it suddenly. He was alone. For how long was anybody’s guess. Ricky thought it important enough to give him this letter tonight before disappearing altogether. He raced back into the stall, locked the door, and read the second page.
As with the first, there were two sections highlighted. The first stated that, if a band member had met with his demise, the others could choose to keep going with 4F, and that the unanimity rule of decisions would still apply. That made sense to Gene, but he understood why Ricky would highlight it. The second section, Gene noted, had a small hand-written message from Ricky next to it. It read only three words. What the fuck?! This section stated that if 4F were to disband, all decisions from that point on would be made solely by “wait … what?” Gene said to himself, reading the name. Gene folded the papers sharply, beyond bewildered. He slid the envelope back into his pocket, and made his way into the bar. The lights were on and only the bartender remained. “What’s going on?” The bartender, very pale and wide-eyed at this point, simply motioned out the door, a look of nausea beginning to cortort his face.
Gene walked briskly toward the front door, not knowing what to expect. He heard the sound of a near howl, almost like that of a wolf. He opened the door, and realized what the sound was. It wasn’t a wolf—rather, an unmistakable cry of human anguish, and he knew who was making it. He parted people, excusing himself politely, only to come upon a scene which would haunt him for the rest of his life.
