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The trio chunks to a halt at the end of “Mack the Knife” and
receives a fair-to-middling applause (the interminable overcast is not helping
their attendance). Billy looks to his players for the next selection, and the
bassist, the one who has a thing for Abbey, leans over to speak.
“Okay if we
take a break?”
“Sure.”
“You can
join us if you like. We just hang out in the parking lot.”
“Nah, that’s
okay. Fifteen?”
“Yep.”
Billy
watches the two of them leave through the restaurant, then he heads for the
back stairs. He knows if he hangs out in the bar he’ll be inviting questions.
And questions are the enemy.
Isaiah
throws back a mini-bottle of whiskey. “You realize we’re taking a chance. He
might not come back.”
David laughs
and sips at his gin. “I wasn’t gonna make it without a break.”
“Being
attacked by roving gangs of ice cream tweakers?”
“Not while
Pablo’s on the job.”
“Pablo! Back
from the dead.”
“That kid is
amazing. He could probably run the place by himself. I’m only paying him
minimum. He says he doesn’t care. Parthenia says it’s time to get back on the
horse.”
“I told you.
Parthenia is a wizard.”
“Yes. I’ve
heard that about fifty-three times now. But my God, what did I ever do to
deserve such a great kid?”
“Did you
change his diapers?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that
enough?”
He holds his
nose. “Yes.”
Isaiah
cracks open another whiskey. “You ever walk Point Damon?”
“All the
time. The ocean side.”
“Oh yeah. I was down there yesterday, way
at the end, where the water sort of circles around the point.”
“I love that.”
“And I saw
this sort of teepee made out of driftwood. Looked like one of those barricades
from Les Miserables. And there was smoke coming out of it! So I walked over
to check it out, and I swear there was a pot dangling over a fire – like
something from Grimms’ Fairy Tales. It smelled like chicken curry soup.
Delicious!”
“You tasted it?”
“The smell. What’m I, a hobo?”
“Well,
okay.”
“I was about
to leave when I saw a flash of red. There was a small limb extending inward
from the wall, and dangling from said limb was, get this: a scarlet Bavarian
cap.”
David
recalls the naked guy bathing in the harbor, and decides that this is not
necessarily a detail to be shared.
“You suppose
he lives out there?”
“God, I hope
not. I wouldn’t be surprised if that spot pretty much disappears during big
storms.”
David starts
laughing. “Have you seen those sweatshirts at Sandbar Gifts? The front says In case of Tsunami…”
“And the
back says Run Like Hell! Yep, when
you live at twenty inches above sea level… ” Isaiah takes a last swallow and
chucks his bottle into the truck-bed.
“Well,” says
David. “The first thing we can do is go in there and get our beach bum a gig
fee.”
He finishes
his gin and chucks his bottle in the same spot. As he walks around the truck he
sees that the bed now holds some fifty tiny bottles.
“My God,
Isaiah. It’s like a leprechaun frat party back there.”
Billy’s
looking for a good signoff. ’Round Midnight is too obvious. But it’s getting
near one and and his giant piano player is giving him that look. He leans away
from the mic and says, “‘Goodbye’?”
The giant
thinks about it. “Gordon Jenkins?”
He wants to
say how impressed he is – is there anything
these guys don’t know? – but he fights the urge. Just being here is pushing his
luck. But the singing is like heroin – Abbey was right – and the sinewy, smoky
torment of something like “Goodbye” is freakin’ paradise. He savors the end of
Isaiah’s back-alley intro, dangles on the downbeat for an eyeblink, and enters.
David is
expecting another end-of-song sneakoff, and finds Isaiah, as usual, reading his
mind. He ends the song along with Billy; David lets his final note buzz along
for a while before damping the strings. He sees that their front man is not yet
across the dance floor, so he leans over to the microphone and says, “Billy
Redman, ladies and gentlemen!”
The
late-nighters respond with a warm applause. Abbey adds a look of consternation.
But not Billy, who tips his scarlet cap and heads for the exit. Abbey heads out
after him.
She returns
a few minutes later and directs a district-attorney stare at David.
“Billy
Redman?”
“Sort of a…
nickname.”
Isaiah draws
up a stool. “He’s not upset, is he?”
Her
expression softens. “No. In fact, he wants you to use it from now on.”
David takes
a quaff from his lager. “You’re lucky I didn’t say Rumpelstiltskin.”
“Pardon?”
“Inside
joke.”
“Subterranean.”
“Hey Rog,”
says Isaiah. “A drink for Billy’s agent.”
“Vodka
gimlet,” says Abbey.
When Isaiah
goes for his wallet, Rog waves him off. “If you’re the one who brought us the
singer, you get all the free drinks you want.”
Abbey smiles
sweetly. “Thank you.”
“That guy is
amazing,” says Roger. “Where’d you find him?”
Isaiah and
David turn as one. “Yes,” says David. “Tell us, Abbey.”
Abbey
laughs. “Flat tire. Quinault Casino. I have to admit, he scared me at first.
But it’s pretty obvious how harmless he is. As he was doing the lug nuts, he
was humming ‘Moon River,’ and I mentioned my karaoke bar. Imagine my shock when
he actually showed up.”
“Are you
aware,” says Isaiah, “that he’s living on Point Damon?”
“Well. Yes.
He’s strangely attached to that place. It’s like he wants to be first off the
continent when the shit goes down. But I outfitted my tool shed with an old
sofa and a space heater, and have been much relieved to find signs of use. And
I’m not telling you one thing more, because there are reasons that someone
becomes homeless, and if you want to keep your new singer, those reasons need
to remain private.”
“Hey,” says
David. “I’m surprised you told us this
much.”
Isaiah
laughs. “Blabbermouth.”
Abbey sets
her drink on the bar and delivers a smart punch to Isaiah’s shoulder.
David
laughs. “Did I mention I’m Abbey’s weightlifting coach?”
Isaiah rubs
the spot. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Roger looks up
from his dishwashing. “Hey, Isaiah. Ralph says he’ll throw in an extra hundred
if you can find a drummer for the Fourth. Maybe throw in a little rock ‘n’ roll
for the dancers.”
“Jesus!”
says Isaiah. “How many miracles are we supposed to pull off this month?”
Abbey
snickers into her gimlet. “Okay. There’s one more thing I can tell you about
Billy.”
Photo by MJV
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