Dark Star: Confessions of a Rock Idol by Creston Mapes Read Free Book Online Page A

years working and traveling with the band, did you ever see Everett Lester threaten anyone?”
    Gray had aged incredibly. His hair was white and he was overweight. The bows of his silver glasses bent outward to make it around his wide, red face. Gray had always loved a good steak, and the red meat seemed to be catching up with him. He appeared to be almost out of breath. I didn’t know whether that was from his anxiety about the trial, his health, or both.
    “Look,” he said heavily. “Everett and the other members of DeathStroke were like family. We lived and worked and traveled together, in very close quarters. We were probably closer than many husbands and wives. When you’re in these kinds of intimate settings, everyone sees everyone else’s weaknesses. And little things take on big proportions.”
    I was amazed at Dooley’s patience. He must have had a good night’s sleep, because he remained silent as Gray attempted to soften his answer.
    “When Everett was at his worst, drug- and alcohol-wise, he did lose his composure and threaten people. But all in all, I would say he did quite well with his emotions, considering how blitzed he was by the media twenty-four hours a day.”
    With his arms crossed, strolling about, Dooley asked, “Who did you see Everett Lester threaten, and for what reason?”
    “Well, on several occasions he became angered when people approached him in public,” Gray answered so quickly that his response seemed rehearsed. “Like when someone would come up to him at a urinal and want to shake hands…”
    This brought a relief of laughter from the crowd. I think I even smirked. But Dooley nipped it.
    “Did you ever see Mr. Lester threaten the psychic known as Madam Endora Crystal?” Dooley asked, throwing a cloak of silence over courtroom B-3.
    “No, I did not.”
    Dooley approached Gray. “Mr. Harris, what is the most violent act you ever saw Everett commit?”
    Boone was on his feet in an instant. “Your Honor, we object on the basis of relevance. What if someone asked that question of your life or mine or of Mr. Dooley himself, for that matter? In each instance, I am certain the answer would certainly be most incriminating.”
    Boone stared at Judge Sprockett, who debated for several seconds while fiddling with something in front of him. “Objection overruled. I am interested in Mr. Harris’s answer.”
    Gray rubbed his chin with his pudgy right hand, shook his head, and raised his eyebrows. “Geez, I don’t know, sir. There was a time once in, I think, Pennsylvania. We were doing a concert with a number of other bands. But it was Thanksgiving Day, and we found ourselves at one of the only hotels in town—a motor lodge of some sort.” He breathed deeply. “There were no restaurants open, and we were all kind of ticked off because it was a holiday and we were away from home, apart from our loved ones.”
    For the life of me, I could not remember what Gray was talking about—or where the story was going.
    “Well,” he continued, conjuring up the strength in his lungs to continue, “Everett had been deep into drugs to pass the time, and he was totally out of it; I mean, falling-down wasted. We were all in one hotel room. I forget whose room it was. But all of the sudden, one of our roadies burst into the room with a wastebasket.
    “He had been collecting all the Gideon Bibles from our rooms, up and down the hallways. And he barged into the room where the band and I were gathered, pulled out the bottom drawer of the nightstand, and yanked out the Gideon Bible. Right then he began ripping out pages and throwing them into the trash can. Next thing we knew, he doused the torn-up Bibles with alcohol and lit the wastebasket on fire.”
    Groping to remember the incident, I sat dumbfounded, feeling the eyes.
    “When Everett kind of came to for a minute and inquired what was going on, what was burning, he went into an outrage. From behind, he grabbed the roadie around the neck,