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What do you mean?
Before you get too famous and have a lot of accountants and
investors trying to get at your money. Your liquid assets, he
drawled and shook his longstemmed glass at me.
It s going to be a long time before I have to worry about that, if
ever.
Don t kid yourself. He leaned closer to me and his cowlick
flipped into his eyes. You ve already played in front of what,
twenty thousand, thirty thousand people in the past month? And
you got mentioned in a review. And you re the hottest thing since
Hendrix. And, he paused to drain his glass, you ve got
connections.
I sat back. Maybe.
Come on! Martin hit me a little too hard on the shoulder.
You re made for the big time, Daron! You think Remo s dragging
you around just for a favor?
Well, yeah&
Bullshit!
Suddenly, I was angry. Bullshit, yourself! What do you know!
I banged my fist on the bar and it hurt. The bartender raised an
eyebrow but I looked away and lowered my voice. Remo s giving
me a handout because he feels too guilty to let me end up busking
for loose change in the subway.
Fuck you, this ain t charity. He knit his eyebrows in
confusion. He was bitching for a month before he called you that
he couldn t play these parts. We had a guy rehearsing with us for a
while, but Remo fired him, said he just didn t mesh. But you,
man, you mesh. You mesh like you never left.
Remo had said something similar about charity or lack thereof.
And I was either too drunk or too sober to say anything beyond
that. Martin went on. Like we never left, I mean. Did I ever tell
you I thought it was stupid?
What was stupid?
Moving us all to LA. Martin motioned to the bartender. I
mean, I didn t argue of course. I was like twenty two, right? And I
wanted to get away from my parents, so it was like Bye Mom!
We re off to get famous! And it worked, you know. But I think we
would have done just as well if we hadn t switched coasts.
How do you know? I smiled at the bartender as she brought us
two more drinks. Mine had a tiny plastic monkey hanging by its
curved tail from the edge of the glass.
It s just what I think. I mean, Artie was our main record man
and he was from the New York office, the media behind us were
from all over, they could have been anywhere, why did we have to
be in LA?
I returned his shrug. Maybe Remo always wanted to move
there.
I doubt it. He took a swig of the drink. Yow! What is this
stuff! He made a horrible grimace. I like it!
I couldn t really taste what I was drinking, most of me felt
wrapped in a soft haze, warm and numb.
So tell me more about Boozeville or wherever the hell it is you
live now.
Providence? I thought about it. It s small. But Boston s only
an hour, New York is like three. I can live with that.
You looking forward to going back?
Maybe. Yes and no.
Missing someone? Got a girlfriend?
I forced my eyes to stay on my drink. No.
Martin laughed, there was no malice in it. You re just like
Remo, married to his music. So let me rephrase, missing someone?
Your band?
A little. I felt the corners of my mouth jerk upwards. I don t
think they re going to last, though.
Why not?
Singer s a flake and my roommate, not dependable, bass
player s excellent but has classical aspirations, and we haven t
been able to keep a drummer longer than two months yet.
Sounds great. I liked your demo tape, by the way.
You heard it?
Yeah, I stole it out of Remo s tapedeck when he wasn t paying
attention. So I can ransom it for megabucks when you re rich and
famous.
The bartender wiped down the dim spot of bar in front of us.
Last call, guys, she said. Any last requests?
Yes! I d like a last cigarette and send a note to my wife saying I
died happy. He looked at his glass, still half full. Stick a fork in
me, I think I m done. He hit the bar with a dramatic slump. Then
he jerked upright, Oh wait, I don t have a wife.
I nodded at her. She smiled at us both and went away.
I Know What Boys Like
When we finally arrived in Boston the next day, after some
mishaps with bad roadsigns, or maybe just bad roads, Remo was
waiting for us in the lobby. He was talking to the Musician
reporter again, a hand-size tape recorder on the table between
their chairs. They stood up when they saw us coming. Waldo burst
out with a tirade, spit flying. I hardly understood a word he said
but I knew it was about the directions. Remo handed him the keys
and that shut him up.
Waldo fanned the keys like playing cards. We only got one for
each room right now, you can get dupes at the desk. Up for
grabs&
I took one and hooked Martin by the arm. You and me, man.
He gave a groggy nod and came with me. I didn t see who Matthew
went with.
The first thing I did after putting my stuff down in the room
was to call Bart. I hadn t talked to him since the day he d left me at
TF Green. Martin crashed like a rotten tree and started snoring.
Hello? A woman s voice answered.
Hi, I m looking for Bart, is he around?
No, I m sorry, he s at the summer house on the Vineyard.
Would you like the number there?
Yes, please.
She read me a number in another area code. I dialed it and
listened to the interchange click and beep distantly before it rang,
making me wonder if maybe I had the wrong notion of how far
away Martha s Vineyard was, like maybe it was actually part of
Canada. I let it ring ten times before I hung up.
I wanted Bart to come up and see the show, to hang out with the
band and see how things were. Bart was maybe the best bass
player I d ever met, but he d spent most of his life in practice rooms
and recital halls. I hoped my impression that the Vineyard was
like an hour or two drive was right.
I took a nap. It was dinnertime when I woke up and I dialed the
number again. Still nothing. And Martin was still sleeping.
There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Matthew
standing there. I wondered if anyone here was conscious for
dinner& ? His gaze slid past me to Martin s still snoring figure.
No, I don t think so. Thanks. I stepped back to close the door.
Daron& His hand twitched and I fixed my eyes on it. I d like
you to come and eat with me.
I held my eyes on his fingertips, their slight curl, as I said I m
sorry, I m not hungry.
I knew he was searching my face but I didn t move a muscle.
Won t you at least come along?
No, I m sorry. I pushed the lie one step further. I have
plans.
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