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Matchbox Nineteen While I was at the wheel of the tour bus, the telephone rang. I glanced behind me, but found that both Rob and Adam were asleep. I pulled off the road. "Hello?" I picked up the phone, after it had rung six times. "Brian, where are you?" Paul’s voice replied. "Frank said you left him a note that you took the tour bus..." "We’ve got Rob." "That’s great! What happened to him?" I gazed upon Rob. "I don’t know. He doesn’t know. It was some kind of fugue thing." " ‘The hell is fugue?" "Fugue, Paul! It’s psychology! It’s when somebody just walks away from their life one day, then realises that they did but can’t remember what happened while they were gone. We’re lucky his only lasted a few days." "Is he okay?" Paul whispered. "Yeah, he’s sleeping right now. He’s just exhausted and confused... and smelling like a dumpster. But I think he’s coming out of this all right. How’s Kyle?" "Oh, Kyle’s fine. They gave him breathing therapy, and he’s okay now." Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked, "What about his fever?" Pause. "I overreacted there," Paul admitted. "It wasn’t even a hundred degrees. Kyle was bugging me about it all the way back to the motel." "Oh, you’re not at the hospital anymore?" "No, they drove us back. Well, after we signed a few dozen autographs," Paul yawned into the phone. "So, are you all on your way back now?" "Yeah. We’re only a few exits away." "Okay, I’ll be waiting for you." I laughed. "Paul, go to bed! We’ll all have breakfast in the morning!" As I hung up, I glanced from Adam to Rob. Adam and Rob were curled up in their seats. Adam clutched his jacket while Rob cuddled with his koala bear. I smiled. I slid into the driver’s seat and started up the engine. |