It was no wonder that the small, lakeside settlement of Bombay Beach, California had once been seen as an oasis in the middle of the otherwise barren, brown Sonoran Desert. Even now, sixty years since the peak of its popularity, the small, wooden sign that marked the turn into the town was a welcome sight. But there was nothing particularly welcoming about the town itself, which appeared to consist of mostly dilapidated mobile homes with dirt and gravel yards surrounded by simple, chain-link fences.
“This place is creepy,” Natalie said in a low voice as she turned onto 5th Street, following the two Range Rovers to the next location our photographer, Tyler, had picked out. After puttering along for a few blocks, the SUVs pulled over to the side of the narrow road and parked in a bare patch of sandy soil. Natalie stopped the van behind them.
“Good thing we got gas back in Palm Springs, huh?” I said, gazing out the window. We were parked in front of what appeared to be an abandoned service station. The skeletal remains of two large canopies were still standing on either side of the ramshackle repair shop in between, but the gas pumps had been ripped out of the ground beneath them. The crumbling building was littered with garbage and covered in graffiti. Several panels of glass were missing from the larger of its two garage doors. The smaller door was completely gone, leaving a gaping hole in the front wall.
“Dude, seriously! This is exactly how every backwoods horror movie starts,” said Nick. “Have you ever seen The Hills Have Eyes?”
Natalie shook her head as she shut off the engine. “You’re not making me feel any better about this, Nick.”
“He’s right, though,” said Howie. “This would be a great location for filming zombie movies and stuff like that. It already has that post-apocalyptic look.”
“Perfect place for a washed-up boyband to shoot the cover of their comeback album,” I added sarcastically, imagining what our critics would say when they saw it. Like Natalie, I was starting to regret coming to such a remote location. I wished I had voiced my reservations before we left L.A., but it was too late to turn back now.
We repeated the process of lowering the ramp and unloading me from the van. The road I rolled out onto was paved, although the rocky embankment on its right side had begun to erode, erasing any sort of shoulder that may have once existed. Fortunately for me, the ground on the other side was pretty flat, and the dirt was packed down enough that I didn’t have to worry about my wheels getting stuck. Still, I found it difficult to push myself over the bumpy terrain, especially as I tried to avoid running over one of the bigger rocks or random pieces of trash and rubble that lay among the ruins.
Tyler and his crew helped to clear a path for me, so he could photograph the five of us in front of the garage door. We tried to go inside, but I couldn’t get far because the floor was covered with old crap: broken furniture, moldy blankets, a stained mattress, an antique television set, and mountains of trash. It looked like a hoarder’s house, although I was willing to bet it had actually been a homeless person’s hideaway at some point. What the hell are we doing here? I wondered but didn’t ask. Trust the process.
After Tyler had gotten all the shots he wanted at the service station, he took us to the other side of the road. “I’ve been reading up on the history of Bombay Beach,” he told us, stopping at the base of the tall embankment that blocked our view of the actual beach. “This berm was built back in the seventies to protect the town from flooding. Any part that’s behind it has been preserved, but everything in front of it has since been washed away or buried in mud.”
Brian raised his eyebrows. “Anyone else wanna see what’s on the other side?” Without waiting for an answer, he started climbing.
“Oh, god, here we go. He’s gonna get his pants all dirty,” I heard our manager, Jenn, say with an exasperated sigh.
“That’s okay,” our stylist, Nicole, replied patiently. “I can clean him up with the clothes brush when he comes back down.”
I couldn’t help laughing as I watched Brian scramble to the top of the berm. “You looked like a baboon running up that hill!” I called to him, secretly envying his monkey-like agility.
Brian turned around and grinned. “You guys should come up here and check out this view!” he called back, beckoning to us. “It’s pretty cool!”
“Hey, you think we could get Kevin up that hill?” I heard Tyler ask AJ in an undertone. I could practically see the wheels in his head turning as his eyes darted between me and the berm.
“I dunno…” AJ stroked his chin as he studied the path Brian had taken. “It’s pretty steep. What do you think, Kev?”
I appreciated him asking me directly instead of discussing it behind my back. “It’s definitely too steep to push me up,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah, one of us would have to carry you on our back like a baby baboon,” Nick added with a teasing grin. “But that wouldn’t be impossible. I mean, we’ve done it before – in London last summer, remember?”
I felt my face heat up as I recalled the humiliation of receiving a piggyback ride from Nick in Hampstead Heath. “Oh, I remember… but I’m not in any real hurry to do it again. I still can’t believe you didn’t throw your back out carrying me like that.”
Jenn frowned. “There has got to be a better way to get over this embankment. The ADA may not have existed yet when it was built, but, still, the average person couldn’t have been expected to hike up and down this thing every time they wanted to go to the beach. What about old people? And little kids? And pregnant women?” she asked, placing her hand on her belly. At our last gig before Christmas, she had shared the exciting news that she and her husband were expecting their first baby, due in June. She hadn’t been showing yet then, but when her hand brought the fabric of her flowy tank top closer to her petite body, I could see the small, round bump that had formed in the two months since.
“I did see some steps back that way,” said Tyler, pointing to our right, “but I’m not sure that would make much difference for you, Kevin.”
“Actually, steps may be a little better,” I replied. “It still won’t be easy, but there is a way to bump my chair up and down stairs. Brian’s done it for me before.”
Tyler clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s do it, then!” He led the way up the road, searching for the steps he swore he had seen earlier.
We found them less than a block away, half buried in the eroded soil. “Keep off sides of dike. Use steps.” Howie read the rusted sign next to them aloud as AJ and Nick snickered. “You hear that, Brian? You were supposed to take the stairs!”
“Will these work?” Tyler asked, brushing the dirt away.
“I dunno,” I said doubtfully, looking down at what was left of the wooden steps. “They may be too narrow.”
“We won’t know for sure unless we try. C’mon, fellas,” Nick encouraged the others. “We’ve seen how it’s done. I’ll go up first and pull from the back. AJ, you follow me and lift from the front.”
“Maybe I’d better do that part,” Brian offered, taking the stairs down from the top of the berm. “I know what I’m doing; I’ve helped Dawn before.”
I wished Dawn were there to help, but, as it turned out, she had taught Brian well. He showed Nick how to take off my anti-tip bars, so he could tilt my chair back far enough for my small front wheels to clear the ground. Working together and taking it one step at a time, the two of them bumped me backward up to the top of the berm.
Fortunately, the top was flat and wide enough for my wheels, but I made only small, tentative movements, afraid of rolling too far and accidentally tumbling back down the hill. I didn’t want to reenact my Mac and Me moment from London. My anxiety made it hard to appreciate the beauty of the sparkling blue water that lay beyond the vast stretch of scrubby, desert beach on the other side of the embankment.
Tyler took a few close-up photos of the five of us on top of it, then went back down to shoot us from a distance through the chain link fence on the other side of the road. We followed the directions he shouted at us, turning this way and that, leaning forward until we almost fell over, and throwing our arms in the air. I felt foolish, knowing my body didn’t move the same way as the others anymore, but our photographer didn’t seem to mind. “That’s great, guys!” he called, giving us a thumbs up. “I think we’ve got it!”
Once Tyler was satisfied with that set of shots, we made our way down to the beach to take some photos by the lake. Near the berm, the sandy soil was packed down enough that I had no problem pushing myself over it, but as we approached the water, it became softer, finer, and… crunchier.
Crunchier?
Suddenly, it sounded like my wheels were rolling over gravel instead of sand. “What is that?” I asked, looking down.
Ahead of me, Howie had stopped to do the same. “Well, now we know what’s causing the smell,” he said, his lip curling with disgust.
The sand was littered with fish bones. Many of them had been crushed into powder, but bigger pieces were sprinkled across the beach. Here and there, a whole carcass lay rotting in the sun. “Ew!” Natalie cried, carefully stepping around one. I could hear similar exclamations from Jenn and the others as they picked their way down to the water.
“Yeah… that’s one of the reasons most people have moved away from this area,” said Tyler. “The lake became so salty and polluted from agricultural runoff that the fish started dying in droves and washing up on the shore.”
“And we came to take pictures among the toxic waste,” I muttered with a growing sense of regret. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t pop a tire running over one of these damn bones.”
Natalie had regrets of her own. “I should have worn different shoes,” she said, shaking her head as she looked down at the strappy sandals peeking out from the bottom of her billowy palazzo pants. “And shorts.” She tried rolling up the bottom of her pant legs, but they just fell back down, forcing her to hold them up to prevent them from dragging on the ground.
I would have offered to carry her on my lap, but I could barely push myself, let alone two of us. My wheels were already beginning to sink in the deepening sand, and the extra weight would only make things worse. I didn’t want to get stuck.
As the others got further ahead of us, Nick glanced back and saw that we had fallen behind. “Yo, Kev, you want a push?” he offered, trotting over to me.
I gave him a grateful nod. “If you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, brother,” I said as he went behind me and grabbed my push handles. “Just try to avoid the big, spiky bones. I’m serious – the last thing I need is a flat tire while we’re way out here in the boonies. I keep a repair kit in the back of my van, but I’d rather not have to use it, ya know?”
“I’ll try my best, bro, but I make no promises,” replied Nick. “I mean, look around. There are bones all over the place!”
“Well, maybe you should just leave me here, then. I mean, where the hell are we even going, anyway?” I didn’t mean to snap at him after he’d hung back to help me, but I was growing more annoyed by the minute.
“Apparently there.” Natalie pointed to her right. “Look at Brian!”
The rest of the group had already reached the edge of the lake. I wasn’t surprised to see my crazy cousin climbing a pile of large rocks in his suit and dress shoes. “Yup… there he goes again. He’s been this way since we were kids,” I said, shaking my head. “An attention-seeking daredevil. You’d never know he was afraid of heights.”
“Really?” she replied, sounding surprised. “No, I wouldn’t have guessed that. He hides it well.”
I nodded, my mind wandering as I watched Brian clamber over the boulders. I envied his confidence almost as much as his agility. I wished I could forge ahead the way he did, without hesitation or fear holding me back. But I knew he wasn’t really as fearless as he seemed, even if he had Natalie and the others fooled. Much like his sense of humor, Brian’s showboating came from a place of insecurity. It was a defense mechanism he had developed early in life to combat the difficulties he’d faced growing up as a short kid with a heart condition. Babied by his mother, doubted by his doctors, cut by his coaches, he had often pushed the limits other people put on him, determined to prove himself. I could certainly relate to that.
As Nick pushed me toward the rock pile, I felt that same desire to prove myself and defend my place in the group. In my wheelchair, I would stick out like a sore thumb in every photo Tyler took of the five of us, when all I wanted was to fit in. There was no way I was going to lie on the ground like a dead animal again, but I could sit on one of the boulders. “Hey, Nick? You think you could help me out of my chair and onto those rocks?” I asked him.
“Yeah, sure.” Nick got me as close to the rocks as he could, parking my chair a few feet from the base of the pile. “Yo, AJ, a little help here?”
Working together, Nick and AJ picked me up out of my chair and carried me over to the rocks, the same way they used to put me in the pool at my old house in L.A. They carefully lowered me onto one of the large rocks near the bottom. It had a fairly flat top that could function as a seat. By leaning back against the boulder behind it, I was able to stay balanced. I knew it wouldn’t be wise for me to sit on such a hard surface for too long, but it would work fine for the time it took Tyler to capture a few photos. Moving my wheelchair out of the way, the other guys positioned themselves around me. Tyler called out directions, his camera clicking away as it snapped pictures.
“Let’s go over there next,” he said, pointing to a strange rock formation further down the beach. From a distance, it looked like a stone wall that extended straight into the water, leading to a line of thick, wooden posts arranged in a neat row – the remnants of an old pier that had rotted away, I assumed. “I wanna get some shots with you guys by the water.”
“Dude. This water’s kinda disgusting,” said AJ, looking down at the dead fish and debris that had washed up on the beach.
Tyler nodded. “Up close it is, but from a distance it will look fine.”
I was more concerned about the logistics of getting there than the look of the water. “I really don’t think my chair can get over all this crap,” I said doubtfully.
“It’s okay, Kev,” Nick said as he climbed down from the rocks. “I can carry you.” Before I could tell him that wouldn’t be necessary, he squatted in front of me. Apparently, he was serious about carrying me on his back – “like a baby baboon,” as he’d put it earlier.
I wasn’t crazy about the idea of receiving another piggyback ride from him, but I knew there was no way I was making it down to the water in my wheelchair. Everyone was watching us, waiting to see what I’d say. Despite my reservations, I didn’t want to let them down. “Well, all right… if you’re sure,” I reluctantly agreed, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“No problem,” he replied, reaching back to wrangle my legs around his waist. “And if my lovely fiancée tries to get me to go to the gym with her later, you can vouch for the fact that I already got in a full workout today.”
I laughed. “Will do, brother.” Although I couldn’t see his face, I could tell by his tone of voice that Nick was smiling, too. I hadn’t missed the seemingly casual way he had slipped the word “fiancée” into our conversation either. It reminded me of the early days of my own engagement, when I’d felt a little rush of excitement every time I found a reason to refer to Kristin as my fiancée instead of just my girlfriend.
Just wait until you get to upgrade her to “wife,” I wanted to tell him, but thinking of Kristin had made my throat tighten. Now that I was dating Natalie, I felt obligated to add the word “late” in front of “wife” when I talked about her, so I wouldn’t sound like a cheating husband who had a wife and girlfriend at the same time. But, just as calling Kristin my fiancée had made my heart flutter, using the term “late wife” made my heart ache. I couldn’t have been happier for Nick, but I also envied him. He and Lauren had their whole future ahead of them, while each passing year pushed Kristin further into my past. If I kept moving forward and took the next step with Natalie, I would be leaving Kristin behind.
“Ready?” asked Nick.
Swallowing hard, I hooked my wrists together and held on to him as tight as I could. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Here we go…” Nick rose out of his squat, slowly straightening to his full height while bearing my full weight on his back. Holding onto my legs, he hitched me up higher, then started walking through the sand. I hung on for dear life, hoping he wouldn’t trip over one of the bigger fish bones and fall. Without a way to catch myself, I could be seriously injured.
“If I start to get too heavy for you, just say something,” I muttered in his ear. “I don’t want either one of us to get hurt.”
“I’m fine, dude,” Nick insisted. “You’re not that heavy – not when I’ve been lifting weights, anyway.”
“We need one of those things they used to carry royalty around the desert,” AJ joked as he picked up my empty chair. “You know, like a portable throne with poles, so the servants can pick it up. What are those things called?”
“Palanquins?” supplied Howie, helping him with the wheelchair.
“Really?” AJ cocked his head to the side, crinkling his brow. “That doesn’t sound right, but, hey, you’re the one with the college degree, bro. You probably are right.”
“Howie’s usually right,” Nick remarked as he carted me past the two of them. “Always trust Howie.”
“Why, thank you, Nicky,” replied Howie as he and AJ followed close behind us, carrying my wheelchair across the beach.
Brian walked ahead of us, kicking fish bones out of Nick’s way. “All hail King Kevin!” he called in an obnoxious British accent.
Walking next to us, Natalie caught my eye and winked, a little smile playing on her lips. Like me, she must have been thinking of the bedtime story I’d once told her about the king who had fallen in love with a fair maiden after losing his queen. I wished I could reach out and slip my hand into hers, but I needed both arms to hold on to Nick.
“You still doing okay?” I asked him halfway to our destination.
He nodded. “Yeah, bro, I’m good,” he replied casually, but I could hear him breathing hard. It couldn’t have been easy walking in sand while carrying a one-hundred-eighty-pound man on his back.
Yet, somehow, we made it to the other side of the beach, where Brian had already climbed onto the structure Tyler had pointed out earlier. Up close, it looked like it could have once been part of the pier as well, but the pilings, or whatever they were, had a strange texture I didn’t recognize.
“What is that?” I wondered. “Is it wood or stone? I can’t tell.”
“Dude… I think it’s salt,” said AJ, leaning over for a closer look at the weathered posts, which were covered with a craggy, white substance. “This whole thing probably used to be underwater. When the lake started drying up, the water evaporated and left the salt behind.”
Tyler and his crew came up behind us, carrying all of his equipment. “Looks like a huge pile of bird crap to me,” he commented. “Let’s take some pictures of you and the boys on top of it.”
I laughed – but, as it turned out, he wasn’t kidding. Before I knew it, Brian was pulling Nick up onto the salt-encrusted pilings with me still riding piggyback.
“Oh, Lord… this is a bad idea.” I could no longer see Natalie’s face, but I could hear the anxiety in her voice as she watched us from the beach below. “Please be careful,” she begged. “Don’t drop him!”
AJ climbed up after us and followed Nick across the narrow, statue-like structure. “Don’t worry. I’m right behind you, buddy,” he said, resting his hand on my back.
“Watch your step,” Brian warned as he picked his way over what was left of the pier. “You don’t wanna lose your balance and fall into this water.”
I made the mistake of looking down once and immediately regretted it. The water below couldn’t have been much more than a foot deep, but it was so murky that I couldn’t see the lake’s bottom. Floating high above it on Nick’s back, unable to feel anything solid beneath me, I felt dizzy. I hoped he didn’t have the same sense of vertigo. One bad step, and he would plunge off the pilings, pulling me into the water with him. But it was too late to turn back now, not when we had already come this far. There was nothing else I could do except close my eyes and cling to Nick, trusting him to keep us both safe and dry.
“Just a little further!” Tyler called from the beach. “A few more steps, Nick, and you’ll be right in the middle!”
When we finally reached the center point of that section of pier, AJ and Brian helped lift me off of Nick’s back and lower me onto one of the pilings. Then they sat down on either side of me, slipping their arms behind my back for extra support. Tyler took a few photos of the five of us sitting like that in a straight line, our legs dangling from the side of the structure. Then he asked us to spread out.
The other guys exchanged glances, giving me uneasy looks. “Do you think you can sit up here by yourself, Kev?” AJ asked awkwardly, his arm still around me.
I took my time answering, considering the circumstances first. My lack of trunk control made it difficult for me to sit unsupported for more than a few minutes at a time. I could perch on the edge of my bed or the therapy table at PT, but they were both a lot bigger than the pilings, leaving more room for me to brace myself with my arms. “I dunno,” I finally replied. “I can try… but I definitely won’t be able to do it for long.”
“You don’t need to do it for long, Kevin – just a couple of minutes!” Tyler called out encouragingly as he stood at the water’s edge, clutching his camera.
“Could someone maybe come out here and stand behind me to catch me in case I start to fall backward?” Apart from wanting to avoid winding up in the nasty water beneath me, I was afraid of hitting my head on the bottom of the lake and getting hurt again. During my inpatient stay at the rehabilitation hospital in L.A., I’d met guys with worse cervical spinal cord injuries than mine, who had broken their necks by diving into shallow water. I didn’t want to become one of them.
In the end, Tyler’s two assistants played Rock, Papers, Scissors to determine which one of them would take on the unpleasant task of wading into the foul-smelling water to prop me up from behind, unseen by the camera. He may not have been happy about it, but it certainly helped me to feel more secure as the other guys began to scoot away from me and climb carefully to their feet.
As Tyler told them where to stand, motioning for each of them to move a step to the right or to the left, I tried to imagine what we looked like through his lens. In my mind, I could picture a cool album cover that featured the five of us in suits, standing on top of the salt-encrusted pilings in the middle of the water. In reality, only the other four were standing while I remained seated in the center. I hoped it would still look good enough to justify the effort it had taken them to get me there.
Tyler was busy snapping photos when my legs began to spasm. “You okay, Kevin?” he asked as I looked down at my quivering knees. Sometimes, my spasms occurred randomly, but, more often than not, they were caused by some kind of discomfort I couldn’t feel. The rough, wooden pilings couldn’t have been particularly comfortable to sit on, especially compared to the gel and memory foam cushion I was used to. Something was probably poking me.
“Yeah,” I replied, carefully shifting my weight. “I just need to readjust. Gimme a sec…” Keeping my left hand planted firmly on one of the pilings for support, I reached down and hooked my other hand under my right knee, trying to lift and calm my leg. But, as I leaned over, my feet suddenly flailed out in front of me, throwing me completely off balance. My body pitched forward, and, before I could even attempt to correct my posture, I felt myself falling.
“KEVIN!” For a fraction of a second, I heard Natalie scream my name before I landed face-first in the freezing cold water. But the moment my head went under, all sound was muffled. I could only hear the frantic pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears, the desperate splashing of my arms as they thrashed wildly through the water, trying to propel my paralyzed body back to the surface.
The lake couldn’t have been more than a couple of feet deep this close to the beach, but the bottom was covered with a thick layer of mud, which made it almost impossible for me to brace myself with my hands. Every time I tried to push my torso up into a cobra pose, I felt my forearms sink deeper into the sludge.
My chest had begun to burn from the pain of holding my breath. I knew I couldn’t do it for much longer. My lungs were already pleading for oxygen, my heart pumping faster and faster to compensate for the lack of it. If I didn’t find a way to get my head above water, I was going to drown.
No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders, pulling me upward. “I’ve got him!” I heard Nick’s voice shout as my head finally broke through the surface of the lake, allowing me to fill my lungs with fresh air at last. I sucked in frantic breaths as Nick flipped me over to float on my back. “I’ve got you, bro,” he murmured in my ear as his arms encircled me from behind, holding me securely against his broad chest.
“Hang on, cuz. We’re gonna get you out of here.” I opened my eyes just long enough to see Brian’s blurry face in front of me. He and Nick must have both jumped into the water when I fell. I tried to tell them thanks, but I could barely catch my breath, let alone talk. The bright sunlight and stinging salt made my eyes burn, so I quickly closed them again as Nick and Brian carried me back to the beach.
“Is he okay?!” Natalie cried as they laid me down on my back in the rough sand. I could hear the panic in her voice, but when I opened my mouth to reassure her that I was all right, all that came out was a large quantity of lakewater. Unable to cough it up, I began to sputter and choke on it instead. Seeming to recognize my distress, Natalie directed Nick and Brian to roll me onto my side. “Quick, before he aspirates!” she barked. They put me in the recovery position, which allowed the water I’d taken in to drain out of my mouth. Natalie knelt on the ground next to me, pressing her hand against my diaphragm to help me expel it. “There you go. Get it all up.” She spoke to me in soft, soothing tones, patting my back as if she were burping a baby. “That’s it. You’re doing great, baby. Just keep breathing.”
I took shallow, ragged breaths, the stench of dead fish filling my nostrils. It smelled even worse than the toxic saltwater tasted, turning my stomach and triggering my gag reflex. I gagged until I began to vomit, bringing up the rest of the lakewater I had swallowed, along with what was left of the protein shake I’d had for breakfast. Eventually, liquid stopped erupting from my mouth, giving way to dry heaves. Eyes streaming, throat burning, I let my head flop back into the wet sand where I lay, limp and exhausted.
“Is he gonna be all right?” Tyler asked anxiously. “Do we need to call 911?”
“How long do you think it takes to get an ambulance all the way out here?” Howie wondered. “I don’t even know where the nearest hospital is.”
When I heard the word “hospital,” I forced my eyes open. “I don’t need an ambulance,” I said hoarsely. “I’m okay.”
“We should make sure you’re not hurt,” Natalie said gently. “You could have hit your head or inhaled too much water.”
“I didn’t,” I insisted, annoyed. Now that I was back on dry land, the panic I’d felt in the water had evaporated, leaving behind a sense of embarrassment. It was just like the time I’d choked on a hot dog in my backyard, forcing Nick to perform a modified version of the Heimlich maneuver on me while AJ called for an ambulance. I felt a wave of deja vu as I blinked up at the sea of concerned faces staring down at me. I pictured myself the way they must have seen me: as a pathetic creature, drenched with water and covered in vomit, lying limply on his side in the sand like one of the dead fish that had washed ashore. “Please, just put me in my chair and get me the hell out of here.”
The others hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. As usual, AJ was the first to stand up for me. “You heard the man,” he said, nodding to Nick, Brian, and Howie. “Let’s help him up.”
Working together, the four of them lifted me off the ground and lowered me into my wheelchair. They strapped me in, then picked the whole thing up and carried it across the rocky sand with me in it, like one of the palanquins they had talked about earlier. “Thanks, fellas,” I murmured appreciatively as they toted me back up and over the berm that separated the beach from the town.
“No problem, Kevy Kev,” AJ replied with forced cheerfulness. He and the others were breathing hard from the effort of hauling my weight. Beads of sweat dripped down their foreheads, despite the dry heat. Like Nick had predicted earlier, they were probably sweating their balls off down below as well.
I felt bad for shivering while they were all clearly roasting, but, by the time they set my chair back down on its wheels, my body was chilled to the bone and trembling uncontrollably. “What’s wrong, baby? Is it AD?” Natalie asked as she knelt in front of me, mistaking my shivers for spasms.
“No… I’m just freezing,” I said through chattering teeth. Although I could feel the hot sun beating down on the top of my head, I couldn’t seem to get warm.
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes. C’mon,” she said, standing up. “Back to the van.” Without waiting for my permission, she grabbed my push handles and whisked me across the dusty road to the patch of dirt where she had parked the van. I sat outside it, trying to soak up as much sunshine as I could while she fumbled through her purse for the key fob. Finally, she found her keys, unlocked the doors, and lowered the ramp for me.
It was warm and stuffy inside the van, which had been baking in the desert heat for the past few hours. The temperature felt good to me, but I knew it would be too hot for Natalie. “You don’t need to do that,” I told her dully as she followed me inside and folded up the ramp, so she could close the side door. “Leave it open; I don’t care if they can see inside. It’s not like they haven’t seen me naked before.”
“Well, I do care!” she snapped as the door slid shut behind her. Her sharp tone took me by surprise. “Your dignity matters to me, even if it doesn’t to you. You deserve to have some semblance of privacy while you’re getting dressed.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “Babe, I’m pretty sure I left my last shred of dignity back on that beach,” I said, struggling to shake the wet suit jacket off my shoulders. “I just thought we should let in some fresh air, so we don’t suffocate in here.”
“Oh, sure, because the air outside is so fresh-smelling.” Natalie rolled her eyes as she helped me free my arms from the confines of the heavy fabric. “This place is disgusting.”
I wasn’t used to hearing her sound so negative. “Yeah, but it’ll look good in photos. Tyler knows what he’s doing.”
“Does he?” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “He didn’t seem to have a clue how to accommodate your disability.” Tossing my sodden jacket aside, she began unbuttoning on the white dress shirt I wore underneath.
“Honestly, most people don’t,” I said with a shrug, watching as her fingers worked their way down my torso. “He’s a photographer, not a physical therapist. But at least he was willing to work with me on location instead of shooting me separately in front of a green screen and photoshopping me in with the other guys later.”
“Well, that would have been a lot safer,” said Natalie, frowning. She finished unfastening the last button and pulled the two flaps of fabric apart. “I don’t appreciate him or the other guys putting you in dangerous situations just to get some good photos.”
“Don’t blame the guys.” I leaned forward, letting her peel the wet shirt away from my skin. “They were just going along with what Tyler wanted.”
“But that’s my point: They didn’t even try to advocate for you,” she protested, laying my shirt on top of my jacket. “Neither did your manager, for that matter. I tried to express my concerns, but I felt like it wasn’t my place to dictate the direction of the photoshoot. I’m not part of the group… and I don’t want to become known as Kevin’s difficult girlfriend who complains all the time.”
“I didn’t need anyone to advocate for me. I can advocate for myself,” I replied defensively, refusing to admit to her that I had also wished one of the guys would speak up for me earlier that day, when we were still in L.A. I didn’t want to look any weaker than I already did.
“But you didn’t,” said Natalie, squatting down to take off my shoes and socks. “You let them drag you along to wherever Tyler told y’all to go.”
“I was trying to be a team player.”
“Well, your team let you down today,” she replied bluntly. “You could have drowned! You could have been hit by a car! You could have been seriously hurt or killed!”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m fine,” I insisted. “I wasn’t in any real danger; the guys were right there.”
“Whatever you say, Kevin,” she sighed as she unbuttoned my pants. “Lean over, so I can pull your pants down.”
She continued undressing me in frosty silence, speaking only when she wanted me to shift my weight. Changing my clothes while I was in my chair was always a challenge, but the fact that they were wet made it even more difficult. By the time Natalie finished tugging my pants and underwear off of my spasming legs, she was breathing hard and had sweat dripping down her face.
The van’s stuffy interior must have felt sweltering to her. It had certainly warmed me up fast. I’d finally stopped shivering, which made putting on the t-shirt, track pants, and tennis shoes I’d worn to the shoot that morning much easier for Natalie. I was glad she’d had the forethought to toss my street clothes in the car, just in case.
Nick and Brian weren’t so lucky; they’d left their clothes back in L.A. When I looked out the window, I saw them both standing in the sun, waiting for their wet pants to dry. Needless to say, we were done shooting for the day, whether Tyler wanted us to be or not. I hoped he had at least gotten some good photos before three-fifths of the band went into the water.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Natalie asked once she’d finished tying my shoes and strapping my feet down onto my foot plates.
“No idea,” I said with a shrug. “I guess we should find out.”
With the push of a button, she opened the van’s side door. “You decent, bro?” Nick asked, poking his head inside.
I nodded. “Yeah. You can come in.” I wheeled myself backward out of the way as he climbed into the van. To my surprise, it was Brian, not Howie, who followed him.
“Hey, can I ride with you guys? AJ kicked me out of the car – said he didn’t want me stinking up the inside.” Brian flashed a good-natured grin.
“Ah, so he sent you to stink up mine instead. How considerate of him,” I replied sarcastically.
“Yeah, I dunno why the smell of dead fish bothers him so much,” said Brian, playing dumb. “Same with Howie – he seemed pretty happy to trade places with me.”
“We’ll try not to get your seats too wet,” added Nick as he and Brian buckled themselves into the back.
“So, what are we doing? Just driving back to L.A.?” I asked, trying not to run over Natalie’s toes as I maneuvered my chair into the open space where the passenger seat would normally be.
“That’s up to you,” said Brian. “The rest of the guys were talking about grabbing food first; Tyler said there is a restaurant here where we could go for lunch. But if you don’t feel up to it…”
“I’m fine,” I replied shortly. “Let’s go.” I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to hold the others back from refueling their bodies after a long, grueling shoot. At the very least, I could use a drink.
The self-proclaimed “world famous” Ski Inn, Bombay Beach’s only remaining restaurant, looked like a good place to get one. According to the sign out front, the ramshackle, two-story building was the lowest bar in the western hemisphere.
“That’s one way to describe a dive bar,” Brian joked, pointing out the sign as we pulled into the parking lot. There was no designated handicapped parking, so Natalie parked the van in an open space near the building. Thankfully, the entrance was flat.
After being outside in the bright sunlight, it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimly-lit interior of the Ski Inn. Once they did, I was able to look around. It looked like a typical dive bar with greasy, beige tile floors that might once have been white and dated wood paneling on the walls, which were plastered with one-dollar bills. To the right was a long, wooden bar, where a few grizzled old men glanced up from their beer glasses to give us curious looks. To the left was the dining room, which had a few long, rectangular tables and chairs, all of which were empty.
“Good thing we beat the rush,” Nick said, snickering.
“Honestly, it’s a relief to see other human beings,” Natalie replied in a hushed tone, tipping her head toward the bar. “I don’t know how anyone could live here.”
“How do you know they’re living?” Nick asked her with an impish grin. “It’s a ghost town. They could be ghosts.”
“Stop!” she hissed, giving him a playful push.
The lone bartender, a tall, gray-haired man in a Hawaiian shirt, stood at the tap behind the bar with his back to us. He finished pouring a pint of beer before he turned around, blinking in surprise when he saw such a big group waiting by the door. “Howdy, folks!” he called, setting the full glass down in front of one of the men at the bar. “How many?”
Jenn did a quick headcount. “Twelve,” she told him.
“You can sit at the high-top, if you’d like.” He gestured to a raised, rectangular, wooden table in the center of the room. It was surrounded by tall, black stools, five on each side. “Just grab a couple more stools from the bar and put one at either end.”
Natalie cleared her throat. “Actually, could we sit at one of the low tables on the other side?” she asked him. “My boyfriend’s in a wheelchair, so the high-top won’t work for him.”
“Oh, sorry – didn’t see you back there!” The bartender caught my eye and offered an apologetic smile. “Yeah, sure, sit wherever you want to. Tess will be right with you.”
“Thanks.”
We went into the dining room and arranged ourselves around two of the long tables. Natalie and Nick sat next to me, while Brian, AJ, and Howie sat across from us. “How are you feeling, Kevin?” Howie asked kindly, looking at me in concern.
“Not as bad as I smell,” I replied, forcing a smile onto my face. “I’m fine – thanks.” I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. Natalie had already fussed over me enough.
Thankfully, the waitress walked over to our table, sparing me from having to say anything else. “Hi, I’m Tessa,” the young woman introduced herself. “And you’re…” Her eyes widened when she recognized us. “You’re the Backstreet Boys! What are you doing all the way out here?”
“We went for a little swim in the Salton Sea,” said Brian, flashing her a big grin.
“Photoshoot for our new album,” AJ added.
“I see,” she said, setting a menu in front of each of us. “Well, thanks for stopping in! What can I get you guys to drink?”
I ordered a beer, hoping it would help wash away the bad taste that lingered in my mouth. Brian, Nick, and Howie did the same, while AJ and the others settled for sodas or water. Our drinks were served in mason jar mugs with handles, which made it easy for me to hold mine without spilling, negating the need for a straw. After the first swig of beer, I felt a lot better. I still wasn’t hungry, but I ordered a burger and fries anyway, knowing my body needed food whether I felt like eating or not.
Howie was the last to order. “I’ll have the fish and chips,” he told Tessa, handing her his menu.
“Coleslaw okay with that? Or would you prefer potato salad?”
“Coleslaw’s fine,” he replied.
“Great! I’ll get started on that right now,” she said, smiling at us.
As the waitress walked away, AJ turned to Howie. “Dude… Did you really just order the fish here?”
“What?” Howie said with a shrug. “I gave up meat for Lent. My only other option was grilled cheese.”
“I would have gone with the grilled cheese, personally. Seems like the safer option,” said AJ.
“Yeah, Howie. How do you know they don’t just up fry the dead fish they find on the beach?” Nick added, snickering at the look of disgust that flickered across Howie’s face.
I took another swig of beer, then pushed myself back from the table. “I’d better use the bathroom before our food comes,” I told the others. Besides the fact that it had been several hours since I’d last emptied my bladder, I needed a moment to myself.
I didn’t expect much in the way of accessibility from an aging dive bar in the middle of a desert, so it was a nice surprise to discover that the Ski Inn’s only bathroom was not only big enough to maneuver my wheelchair with ease but also equipped with a hand rail on the wall. I didn’t need to transfer to the toilet to take care of business, but I was glad to see it there for people who did.
As I pushed myself over to the sink, I shuddered at the sight of my reflection in the mirrors that spanned the width of three out of the four walls. I looked like a half-drowned rat with my wet hair plastered to my forehead. The makeup Carly had carefully applied that morning was streaking down my face. The confidence I’d felt earlier that day, when I’d first seen myself in my tailored suit, had faded away. “You’re a hot mess,” I muttered to myself, reaching around to retrieve the bag from the back of my chair.
I assembled my supplies across the countertop, letting my mind wander while I went through the familiar motions of using them. The day hadn’t gone the way I had hoped it would. I’d felt like I was constantly lagging behind the rest of the group, struggling to keep up, and holding them back when I couldn’t. The photo shoot had ended early because of me. If I hadn’t fallen into the water, we would probably still be on the beach.
This is what it’s going to be like from now on, I realized, glancing up at my reflection again. It’s not going to get any easier. You’re always going to be the dead weight that the other guys have to drag around.
That was when the self-doubt really began to creep back into my mind. Maybe I had deluded myself into thinking I could be a Backstreet Boy again. What was I doing here? “Making a fool of myself, that’s what,” I muttered into the mirror.
Once I’d finished my business, I reluctantly left the solitude of the bathroom and rolled back out to the table. “You okay, Kev?” AJ asked as I rejoined the group.
I shrugged. “Physically? Yeah, I’m fine. Mentally? I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?” The guys gave me looks of concern.
I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there. Sorry I ruined the shoot.”
AJ shook his head. “If anything, we’re the ones who should be sorry. We never should have put you in a position where you could fall and potentially get hurt-”
“Or drown,” Natalie interjected. I could tell by her testy tone that she wasn’t quite ready to forgive the rest of the group.
“Or drown,” AJ acknowledged her with a brief nod before turning his attention back to me. “We never should have let go of you. Sorry, bro. But you didn’t ruin the shoot at all. Tyler was just showing us some of the photos while you were in the bathroom. Here… have a look.” He slid Tyler’s digital camera carefully across the table. Nick, who was sitting next to me, picked it up and held it out in front of me as he flipped through the hundreds of photos Tyler had taken.
A lump rose in my throat as I looked at the images of the five of us on the lonely desert road. It had taken me a long time to adjust to seeing myself in a wheelchair – and, most days, I still didn’t like the way I looked. But, for once, my eyes weren’t drawn to my quad belly, my scrawny triceps, or my curled hands. Miraculously, my tailored black suit had managed to conceal the parts of my body I felt most insecure about, making me look both lean and strong – or maybe it was the angle Tyler had taken the photos from. In any case, I loved the action shots, where I was wheeling myself down the middle of the road while my bandmates walked beside me. They captured our camaraderie, the close bond that had kept us together through the best and worst of times. I was surprised to find that I liked the photos of the five of us lying on the dusty pavement, too. Unless you knew that one of us was paralyzed from the chest down, you would never be able to tell just by looking at those pictures. Our prone positions put us all on the same level, just like Tyler had promised, and made me look like an equal part of the group – like I still belonged.
You do belong, I told myself as I lifted my beer mug to my lips and tilted my head back, trying to wash away what was left of my lingering self-doubt by downing half of my drink in one long swallow. It helped. By the time Nick reached the last shot of the five of us perched upon the pilings of the ruined pier, I felt better about everything, from the work we’d done that day to my place within the group.
“So? What do you think?” AJ asked eagerly as the others watched me, waiting for my answer.
Despite my earlier reservations, I had to admit that the raw images looked good – and I knew they would look even better after a little bit of editing. “I think one of these is gonna make a kick-ass album cover,” I replied with a nod of approval. “You nailed it, Tyler.”
“Thanks,” Tyler replied from the other table as Nick got up to give his camera back.
Our food arrived a few minutes later. I still wasn’t hungry, but I managed to eat about half of my burger and fries. “How was everything?” our waitress, Tessa, asked when she came back to clear the table.
“Great,” we all agreed.
“Glad to hear it!” She grinned, then added hesitantly, “If it’s not too much trouble… would you mind signing a dollar bill for our wall? And maybe take a picture with me?”
“Sure!” AJ was the first to answer. He and the other guys got up from the table and gathered around me and Tessa, who handed her phone to Natalie to take the photo. Then she passed a crisp, clean one-dollar bill and a Sharpie around the table for us to autograph. Nick signed it first, then placed the permanent marker in my hand, closing my fingers around it so that I could hold onto it. I scrawled my name as best I could and drew a crude peace sign above it before passing the buck to Brian.
“Thank you so much!” Tessa gushed once we’d all signed it. “I’ll have to find a place of honor to put this one.”
“Our pleasure,” said Howie, smiling as he handed it back to her. “Thanks for the great food and great service.”
We finished our drinks, paid for our meals, and left not long after, knowing we still had another two-and-a-half hour drive ahead of us. I couldn’t wait to get home and wash the salt, sand, and dead fish stench from my skin.
Exhausted by the day’s events, I dozed off on the way back to L.A. Natalie must have been tired, too, because we didn’t talk much until we made it home. It was there, in the privacy of our pink bathroom, that she turned to me and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Babe, I told you, I’m fine,” I muttered, tired of hearing the same question over and over again.
But, this time, Natalie wasn’t taking “I’m fine” for an answer. “That’s not what you told the guys, though. When AJ asked at the restaurant, you said you were physically fine, but, mentally, you weren’t sure. What did you mean by that?” she pressed me as we waited for the shower to heat up.
I sighed. “I dunno. Today just had me questioning everything. Like, what am I even doing here? Do I still belong in this group? Am I holding the other guys back? Is it always going to be this hard?”
Her brow crinkled. “Of course, you still belong!” she insisted. Reaching out to me with both hands, she gave my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Do you realize how happy you made that server at the restaurant today? She was beyond thrilled to take a picture with all five Backstreet Boys.
I nodded, smiling as I remembered the starry-eyed look in Tessa’s eyes. No matter how tired I was or how insecure I felt, I never really minded meeting fans. It was always nice to know that a two-minute interaction with me could make someone else’s entire day.
“It was so inspiring to watch the way y’all worked together out there today,” Natalie added. “Your brotherhood was on full display. I liked seeing the other guys step up to help you get wherever you needed to go. You didn’t hold them back; they pushed you forward.”
This was a completely different take on the day from her rant back in Bombay Beach. “Really?” I said, raising an eyebrow at her. “‘Cause, earlier, you said they let me down.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I was upset when I said that. Watching you fall into the water like that really freaked me out.”
“Well, it wasn’t much fun for me either,” I replied sarcastically.
“But you should have seen the way the guys reacted. Nick and Brian both jumped right in after you; they didn’t even hesitate. And I’m sure AJ and Howie would have gone in after them if they hadn’t gotten to you as fast as they did.”
I nodded.
“I know it wasn’t their fault that you fell in,” she went on. “They were just going along with what Tyler wanted. And while I may not agree with all of his methods, I have to admit that he knows what he’s doing. He got some great shots! They made you guys look so good.”
“He and Nicole are miracle workers, for sure,” I agreed, grimacing as I glanced into the mirror. With my clothes off, the parts of my body I hated the most were on full display. I quickly looked away, not wanting to face the sight of my wasted triceps and protruding belly, so different from the trim physique I’d had before my injury.
Instead, I focused on Natalie, who had turned back toward the shower, sticking her hand under the stream of water to test its temperature. My eyes panned down her perfect body, following the groove of her spine down the center of her bare back from the base of her slender neck to the top of her rounded ass, admiring the two little dimples on either side of her tailbone, the subtle curve of her hips, and the long lines of her legs. With a figure and a face like hers, she could have had any man she wanted. Yet, in spite of my physical imperfections, she had chosen to be with me.
I belong with her, just like I belong with the Boys, I told myself, trying to temper my lingering insecurities. We belong together.
“I think the water’s ready,” she announced, stepping aside so that I could wheel myself into the shower. “Tell me if it’s too hot for you.”
“Nah… it feels just right,” I said as I centered my shower chair under the spray, savoring the sensation of the warm water running over my head and shoulders. “Thanks, baby.”
“No problem.” Natalie came in after me, pulling the shower curtain closed behind us. “It’s gonna feel so good to get clean again,” she said, squirting a glob of shampoo into her hand. “That place was gross.” She worked it into a lather as she began washing my hair, massaging my head with her fingertips.
“Yeah,” I agreed, closing my eyes with a sigh of pleasure as her nails grazed my scalp. “But I guess it was worth it.”
***