Joe arrived in The Village early in the evening on a school night. When he knocked on the door, Lana answered. As she was about to speak, he touched his finger to his lips.

  “Ssh, I want to surprise her.”

  “You’ll definitely do that. She’s in the shower.”

  The night before he told a weepy Tina he wouldn’t make it back to New York for at least another week. She was not happy.

  ”C’mon in," Lana stepped aside. "She’s gonna go crazy. It’s been a rough week.”

  “I hear it on the phone. That’s why I’m here.”

  She closed the door behind them and hugged Joe. They heard the shower turn off.

  “Thank you for doing this for my girl. I know she’s missed you. And Simon’s injuries have her down too.”

  “I’ll be visiting him tomorrow. I know Si is having a hard time.”

  Lana called out. “Tina! There’s someone here for you.”

  Tina called back. “In a minute.”

  It unnerved Joe that the mere sound of her sweet voice made him feel squishy inside, with goosebumps, and a warm feeling in his chest. The emotions scared him.

  Tina emerged from the bathroom with her head in a towel, drying her hair, and eyes down. When she looked up she screamed, threw the towel in the air, and raced across the room. Her arms went around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. She nearly knocked him over.

  “What are you doing here?” She kissed him. “I’m so happy to see you.” She kissed him again.

  “Yeah, I see that. I’m here to make you feel better.”

  “So far, so good," laughed Lana.

  She kissed him again. “I missed you so much. I need this. Thank you.”

  “You can thank Amtrak. They make it easy.”

  “I love Amtrak. I’ll send a thank you note.”

  “I think they’d prefer donuts.”

  After the molestation, she got dressed while Lana and Joe talked. When T returned, she cozied up to him on the couch, giddy with happiness. Lana laughed at her.

  “Look at you, in love again. You do this all the time.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked T.

  Lana looked at Joe. “She always goes head over heels.”

  Tina protested. “That’s not true!”

  Joe winked at Lana. “Are you saying Tina is crazy like this with all her boyfriends?”

  Tina elbowed him. “No, I am not!”

  “I wasn’t asking you. Lana, is that true?”

  Lana smiled. “Yeah, sorry. I tried to tell you last time you were here.”

  Tina huffed. “You know she’s making that shit up, right?”

  “Don’t feel so special, Joe. She’s had lots of boyfriends.”

  “That hurts," he faked a bruised ego. “I thought I was the one.”

  “That’s enough," T put her foot down. "Don’t you see what she’s doing?”

  She stared at Joe. He maintained a straight face. T couldn’t tell if he was taking Lana seriously.

  “I can handle the truth. If I’m just the flavor of the month...” Joe cracked a smile.

  Tina pushed him. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re both picking on me.”

  Lana laughed. “She’s quite gullible for a smart girl.”

  “Yeah, I learned that early on,” he poked Tina’s rubs. “Miss Gullible.”

  “You’re not funny. I’m not gullible. How long are you here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a week… but that’s not a promise.”

  They ordered Chinese delivery and hung out for the evening. With chow mein dribbling from her lips, T leaped from the kitchen table. “Oh, I have something for you.” She grabbed a newspaper from the side table by the door. “I almost forgot.”

  She plopped a recent edition of The Village Voice on the table. You’re gonna like what he wrote. Joe flipped through the pages. There it was, perfectly headlined - Punk Rock Vaudeville in Hell’s Kitchen. He read it quietly while eating kung pao beef. Joe sipped water, put the paper down, and went back to his spicy supper served in a cardboard take-out container.

  “Well, what do you think? That’s a good review.” She smiled.

  “Yup. I was there. I knew he’d be good to us.”

  “The headline is pretty good,” said Lana. "I'll have to check out his carnival sideshow."

  Joe nodded. “I gave him that line. There’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?” asked T.

  “Are we even a band anymore?”

  “Really?” Tina’s face got serious. “I had a feeling you were holding back on the phone. What’s going on with Johnny?”

  Joe filled them in on Sal not keeping his word and Johnny trying to beat his addiction with an outpatient clinic… and how he was not happy about this loophole treatment.

  “Is it a methadone clinic?” asked Lana.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I should’ve asked that.”

  “How long will that take?” asked Tina.

  “I have no idea and I’m not gonna worry about it now. No band talk, I’m here for you.”

  Tina smiled as she went back to her chow mein. Joe watched her eat with that cute, content smile on her face. She looked at Joe while chewing, smiling with her eyes. He felt so good making her happy.

  “Hey,” he nudged Tina. “How’s the new job going?”

  “Demanding,” she said. “Margaret is a tough boss but I knew that going in. I figure if I can hack it for one year it’ll look good on my resume. Everyone knows how difficult she is. That place has a revolving door.”

  “She loses people?”

  “Yeah. She’s gone through a bunch of girls.”

  “That sucks,” Joe said. “You don’t seem the type to stand up for yourself. Don’t let her abuse you.”

  “I stand up for myself.”

  Lana guffawed so hard that noodles flew out of her mouth. “Stand up? You’re a fucking pushover.”

  “I am not.”

  Lana sighed and rolled her eyes as she glanced at Joe, “And she’s in denial.”

  Joe enjoyed staying with Tina and Lana. Apartment 3C was a fun place to be. They were busy at school and in jobs five days a week so Joe had daytime freedom in Manhattan. He picked up bagels or muffins each morning and spent a couple of hours with Simon.

  After a morning with Si, Joe would grab lunch at a diner or deli. He might visit Tommy’s in the afternoon to hang with the hard punks and he popped into his record shops. Depending on class schedules, he might pick up groceries on the way home to prepare dinner. The girls loved that and teased him, their manservant.

  Simon was kept in the hospital longer than expected to have another facial procedure done but also because he lived alone with no one to care for him. His Mum had flown in and out of the country in less than sixty hours. No punks met her. Simon didn’t care to discuss it. Tommy and the crew made arrangements to help him at home. He was discharged in the middle of Joe’s stay. Joe then spent his mornings with Simon in his humble flat in Murray Hill, only blocks away from the hospital. When other punks popped in, he’d hang a bit longer and go on with his day.

  Tina had described how bad his scars were but her words fell short. It had been twenty-three days since the assault. His head was only lightly bandaged, his injuries more exposed. Simon could change the dressing himself. During one of Joe’s visits, Simon removed the bandage.

  Joe examined his scalp. On his left side just above the ear, he had V-shaped stitches where they had peeled his scalp to treat his cranium. “When your hair grows back this will be covered up.” Joe tried to downplay what would surely be a horrible scar.

  “If my hair grows back," Si replied.

  "Your nose and cheek look better than I expected.”

  “That’s what two surgeries will do.”

  “Ya know, it's a good thing you were homely to begin with,” Joe smirked. “People will hardly notice.”

  That made Si smile. If you can break a friend’s balls during bad times and get a smile, it’s a good sign. Simon’s bones were broken but his spirit wasn’t.

  “If T were here,” he said, “she’d rightfully smack you for your cruelty.”

  “I know. She abuses me.”

  Simon scoffed. “Ha, you’re punching above your weight class with that one.”

  “That’s how I see it too.”

  “I’m just messing with you. To me, you’re the royal couple.”

  Joe laughed. “She’s definitely a queen.”

  Simon's brow furrowed. “Tina’s not that type. Is she? She doesn’t seem dramatic.”

  “Her drama is low-key. She was weepy on the phone last week and she’s passionate.”

  “Passion is good.”

  “Damn right, it is. After surprising her with this visit,” Joe smiled wide. “Unbelievable.”

  “Piss off.”

  “She can’t get enough of me,” the smirked. “I think she’s an orgasm addict.”

  Simon rolled his eyes.

  “And Lana is hilarious. She’s always poking at T, getting her blood pressure up. She and I get along great and that gets under T’s skin.”

  “Is she jealous?”

  “It seems so. She caught me singing to Lana one day,” Joe made a face. “Not good. And she knows about Jada.”

  “Oh bollocks," his eyes got big. "She will fucking hate Jada.”

  “I know,” Joe said. “I need to keep ‘em separated.”

  —-- UPTOWN GIRL —--

  Tina had previously served a six-month internship at a Tribeca art gallery during her freshman year. It was light work. She was the cute hostess in dresses and heels, greeting guests, getting coffee for visiting artists and clients and seeing the art business from the bottom… the very bottom. That internship put her in contact with people in the Manhattan art scene, including Margaret Von Something German. Her surname was so long and convoluted with too many consonants that Joe didn’t attempt to pronounce it. It was Von Something German.

  Shortly after Joe met Tina, Margaret offered her a part-time job at her Midtown gallery. She started the week Joe returned to Providence after his summer in the city. During this stay in town, Joe decided to visit Tina at her new gig.

  He walked into the swanky glass and metal contemporary gallery on 5th Avenue near 55th Street to find Tina standing like a palace guard at a hostess station. Her smile made the stinky subway ride worthwhile.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in.”

  “What were you doing up here?”

  “Okay, I lied,” he shrugged. “I just wanted to see my uptown Girl.”

  “This is not Uptown.” She pointed east. “Uptown is north of Central Park.”

  Joe pointed north. “North is that way.”

  “Whatever.” She looked above her toward the boss lady’s lair.

  “Okay,” Joe explained. “If I’m in The Village, or Lower Manhattan, and I want to come here, I’m going uptown, right?”

  She shook her head, “No, that’s not how it works.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Sure it does, north is up, south is down. If I’m traveling north I’m going uptown.”

  Tina looked up again then walked around her station and hugged him. “Thank you for surprising me. It’s sweet of you.”

  “Speaking of sweet,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Butterfinger candy bar.

  “For me?”

  “It’s your favorite, right?”

  She accepted the gift and kissed him. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  Joe looked up, “Don’t look now but we’re under Gestapo surveillance.”

  Tina turned to see Margaret glaring down at her and Joe, having just witnessed her kiss him. She walked back to her side of the podium and looked back up.

  “This is Joe, my boyfriend. He just popped in to say hello.”

  Joe waved. Margaret did not. She turned and walked back into her office.

  “Ooooo,” Joe faked a chill. “I can feel her icy soul from here.”

  “Yeah, she’s not warm, that’s for sure.”

  “She would have made a good Nazi.” Joe clicked his heels and stood erect.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Sure it is. Mags is an art Nazi. You said she was difficult.” He leaned over her hostess podium. “She’s still watching.”

  “Don’t call her Mags. She’s very proper and professional.”

  “You mean a humorless tight-ass?”

  “You better go. I don’t need her climbing up my tight ass.”

  “I’ll leave after you kiss me goodbye.”

  “Is she still watching?”

  “Yup.”

  “Nope. No kiss.”

  “Awww, C’mon.”

  “I’ll give you something later that’s way better than a kiss.” Tina pushed her tongue against her cheek.

  “A blowjob for a Butterfinger?” Joe smirked. “I told ya, you Catholic girls are so easy.”

  “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

  “I love you,” he winked.

  “I love you too.”

  Joe looked up and waved. “Nice to meet you, Mags.”

  Tina’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you…” She pointed. “Get out of here.”

  That evening, Joe cooked Lana and Tina a simple seafood casserole. Shrimp, scallops, butter, and garlic, topped with crushed Ritz crackers and served with a salad. Lana cleared the table when they finished.

  “Do you guys want to rent a movie?” She asked. “I'll go to the video store.”

  Tina winced. “Sorry, we have plans.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Tina nodded sideways toward her bedroom.

  Lana’s mouth fell open, “Again? I’m pretty sure I heard you getting busy this morning.”

  “So.”

  Joe leaned back in his chair. “It’s like you said, Lana. When she gets a new toy she goes wild. She’s insatiable. The other night we fucked. She got off and a half hour later I caught her under the covers playing with herself.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “She does that a lot,” Lana smiled.

  “And I’m not ashamed of it,” Tina said. “I like getting off.”

  “You might be an addict,” Joe said.

  “A sex addict?”

  “An orgasm addict. It’s a Buzzcocks song.” He nodded. “I think you need…”

  “Fine,” Tina interrupted. “We don’t have to have sex so often if it’s a problem. I can take care of myself.”

  “I wasn’t complaining,” Joe said. “I love it. I’m just making an observation.”

  “She’s a horny girl, Joe,” Lana said while starting the dishes. “I hope you can keep her satisfied.”

  “I accept the challenge.”

  While Lana did dishes, Tina took him by the hand into her purple and pink sanctuary. She sat on the chair at her makeup mirror where she rewarded Joe for the Butterfinger.

  She looked up, smiling. “Better than a kiss?”

  —-- PLAN B IS ON HOLD —-

  During a lazy day, with Tina in class, Joe stopped by Cohen Studio in Chelsea. When he walked in the receptionist explained that Marty was busy but offered to escort Joe into the studio where he could listen and observe… as long as he remained quiet.

  In the smaller of the two sound rooms, an older female opera singer was belting out some Italian lyrics. Marty was in the booth. He saw Joe through the door window and waved. Joe took a seat and listened to a solo opera performance. It was more than Joe had bargained for. He almost left a message and went home. When her work was done the lady chatted with Marty and departed.

  “Hey, Joe.” Marty put his hand out. “How are you?”

  “To be honest,” he shook Marty’s hand. “Not great. Simon was involved in an… incident.”

  “Oh,” Marty’s expression changed. “The kid who got assaulted was Simon?”

  “You heard about it?”

  “Yeah. I know Tommy well enough. He told me one of the regulars was severely beaten and hospitalized. I’m very sorry to hear it was Simon. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s been better but he’s healing. It’s gonna be a long road to recovery.”

  “So, is the band back in town? You should have brought the guys with you.”

  “Do you have a minute?” Joe asked. “I have some other news.”

  Marty led Joe to his office where the men sat across the desk from each other. Marty offered Joe a soda pop. Joe declined.

  He exhaled and got to the point. “My band has a drug problem. Johnny, our lead guitarist got hooked on heroin over the summer and we’re trying to get him into rehab. We’re out of business until we work this out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that too,” Marty shook his head. “Heroin is a plague in this city. I know a few young people who…” he paused. “I don’t have to tell you. You’re seeing it firsthand.”

  “So, when I brought Simon here that was part of my reaction to Johnny being all fucked up. I honestly believed he was going to wreck our band and I saw Simon as a possible plan B.”

  “And now plan B is on hold.”

  “Exactly. I have no idea what’s going to happen with Johnny or how long Simon’s rehab will be. I just wanted to let you know my band is in limbo, but…” he raised a finger. “When we’re whole again, I’ll be in touch. I promise.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  They spoke for several more minutes before Joe excused himself to do grocery shopping. He had two lady roommates to cook for.

  —-- THEN SAY NOTHING —--

  Lying in bed, late on a Friday night, Joe was reading The Sirens Of Titan while Tina did the New York Times crossword puzzle.

  “President to serve two non-consec…”

  “Cleveland.”

  “You didn’t let me finish the question.”

  “It’s Grover Cleveland.”

  Tina pointed at squares with her #2 pencil. She smiled at Joe. “It fits.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” He went back to reading.

  “The Capital of Lithuania.”

  “Vilnius.”

  “Are you making that up?”

  “No,” He put his book down and turned to Tina. “That's the answer. I’m not doing the puzzle for you. I’m reading.” Joe put his book up higher, blocking her.

  “Okay. One more question.”

  He rolled his eyes behind the Sirens.

  “Who is Janie?”

  Joe lowered Kurt Vonnegut and stared at Tina for a moment. “Why?”

  “You said the name Janie twice last night. I don’t want to say you screamed but you were having a bad dream for sure and you woke me up.”

  “I’m sorry. That happens sometimes.”

  Tina looked at Joe waiting for the explanation he was not interested in giving. He stared back.

  “I have dreams. I’m sorry.” He put Kurt back up.

  “We’ve been together a while. This was the first time.”

  “That’s good. It’s been a while,” he said from behind the pages. “Sometimes they come in batches.”

  “So who’s Janie?”

  Joe was in a moment of truth. He wasn’t ready to tell her the story. This happened from time to time. People wanted to talk about Janie after she died, but not Joe, and not his family. Over the years he learned how to handle these moments. There were multiple decisions. Should he tell her anything at all? If so, how much? What level of detail about the accident should he share? Does he tell her everything, from that horrific day through years of therapy?

  Joe had several versions of the story. There’s a sad telling with emotional details only. He had various middle versions where he explained how she died. The shocking script has all the painful details of that day, the trauma. He hadn’t told that story in years. In this moment with Tina. He went through his mental checklist over several seconds pondering while Tina stared at him on his right.

  He chose the bad dream version because it was fresh in his memory. Joe set his book down, breathed in deep, and exhaled slowly, his deep cleansing breath.

  “I have nightmares of the worst day of my life. The day my sister died. Janie was my sister… I mean, she is my sister.” He paused. “I guess I don’t know how to say it.”

  Tina didn’t know what to say, “You lost a sister?”

  “Yeah, I just told you that. It’s hard to talk about. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

  “Sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  Joe stared straight ahead knowing she would not let this go. She would soon ask another question right after saying he didn’t have to talk about it. This happened often.

  “How did she die?

  And that’s the question most ask. Joe took another deep breath but less demonstrable.

  He looked away and then down at his lap, his hands on the book. “I wish I could say it was cancer. People might ask what kind and I could say leukemia and they’d make a sad face and that would be the end of it. Cancer is clean.” Joe looked up to see Tina staring at him.

  “My dreams are like a badly cut disaster film, chaotic. My sister was struck by a car in front of our house when I was eleven years old. I was standing eleven feet away. I know this because the police investigator told his cop buddy, right in front of me, ‘her eleven-year-old brother was standing eleven feet away. What’s today? The eleventh.”

  Joe broke eye contact, looking down. “I saw my sister die. I tried to warn her but I was too late. She was twirling like a ballerina, looking me in the eye when the car hit her.”

  That was Joe’s shocking but not graphic version.

  “I don’t know what to say, Joe.”

  “Then say nothing. That’s a good rule to live by. When you don’t know what to say, say nothing. Just hug me.” Tina scooted closer and put her arms around him. He pulled her in.

  “I did almost seven years of therapy. There was a time when I would not have told you one word of this. I would lie or stonewall you. I can talk about it now but not always. I knew this day would come and I’d have to tell you. Maybe someday I’ll tell you more, but not tonight.”

  “How old was Janie?”

  “She was a month shy of her ninth birthday.”

  “You had four sisters?”

  Joe paused for a moment to gather himself. Tina was so much like his Mom and sisters in how she interrogated him. It started on their first date. She first said they didn’t have to talk about it and then kept asking questions. Because his sisters did this often Joe knew to let it go. He can stop talking at any moment because he controls fifty percent of every interaction. Dr. Nichols’ simplest words were often her best.

  “No. Janie died before Jeanie was born. My Mom was pregnant, she almost lost the baby. She was hospitalized the day after Janie died. Jeanie was born two months later, premature but healthy.”

  “Janie, Jeanie, the J names.”

  “I know,” Joe squeezed her tight. “Welcome to my life.”

  Joe was hoping that Tina hearing a shocking but not graphic version would shut her down. When he says Janie was looking him in the eye, it conveys how tragically intimate her death was for Joe. He was the last person she saw and he was in a panic, yelling at her, running towards Janie, eleven feet away. He hoped that once Tina imagined that in her mind's eye, she would understand the trauma he suffered and she truly wouldn’t know what to say and he could give her his best advice… to say nothing.

  It seemed she was figuring this out. They sat in a long silence. Joe then realized this conversation was different from all others because of who he was with and the intimacy of being in her bed. If he loved and trusted Tina and was imagining a future with her… maybe she should know everything. Joe kept talking.

  “My dream starts at the moment immediately before she was hit. I can see Janie twirling, she was always dancing. She moved between parked cars twirling toward the street with her arms out. She’s looking right at me, she’s smiling, her missing tooth, her blonde hair flying sideways. I scream, ‘Janie! No!”

  He stopped for a moment. Tina said nothing.

  “That’s when I wake up, most of the time.” He leaned back on his pillow as if he were in therapy. “In another dream, or sometimes the same dream, it jumps to my mother and father running out of the house in a panic. The blood-curdling screams of my mother are seared in my memory. I can still hear her in my mind. Everyone is frantic. My father is distraught, just falling to pieces in front of me. There’s nothing he can do. He feels hopeless. Janie is so badly broken. There was so much blood. Her bones were sticking out. Jackie was six, on the front porch when it happened. I can hear her screaming, calling Janie’s name. She was inconsolable.”

  Tina sat up and leaned against her pillows, looking into his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Well.” He inhaled and exhaled. “I’ve gone this far.”

  Tina touched his face. “I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine how horrible it is to lose a sibling, never mind witnessing it. It’s just…”

  “Inconceivable,” Joe said. “These memories are stitched together in my dreams, like bad film editing, choppy and chaotic. The dream leaps forward to the ambulance and fire trucks and so many cops and a hundred neighbors crowded on the street and looking out windows. I have cops questioning me but I hear no words, the world goes silent because I’m in shock.”

  Joe sat quietly for a moment. Tina was still looking at him, her hands on his.

  “My Mom and Dad were crying, holding each other as the paramedics carefully placed her on the stretcher. I remember a fireman crying and another fireman consoling him. I sat alone on the steps. I didn’t cry.”

  “Because you were in shock.”

  “Yes,” he exhaled again.

  Joe sat in another long silence. Tina said nothing, as he hoped she would. His mind was filling with details of that day. He flipped the sheets off. “Let’s go out,” he said while scooting off the bed. His demeanor flipped from somber to energetic.

  “It’s 11:50,” she said.

  Joe put his jeans on. “I know. I’m hungry. Let’s go,” he said hurriedly while reaching for his shoes. “Let’s go out so I don’t think about this anymore. I’m not going to sleep tonight. I know this for sure. I have to go out. I can go alone if you don’t want to.” He grabbed a tee shirt. “I won’t be mad.” He pointed to his head. “This is my problem. I know how to deal with it. I can’t lie in bed with Janie on my mind. Trust me. I know this.” Joe pulled the shirt over his head.

  “Okay,” Tina said, in a tone of concern. “Let me take a pee. Give me a minute.”

  Seven minutes later they were walking in The West Village, hand in hand, Joe was lit up.

  “You’re getting a crash course in my problems, right now. This shit happens sometimes, T.” He turned and walked backward, facing her as he talked fast. “My sister dying is just the number one issue I have. It’s a rat nest of anxiety and trauma up in here, and depression. Tell me when you’ve heard enough. You can bail out at any time. I would understand.”

  “It’s like you just snorted coke. Why are you so wired?” Tina stopped. Joe stopped. A passerby had to swerve around them. “This is scaring me, Joe.”

  He nodded, “I know, me too.” He lowered his voice and calmed his tone. “I’m having a manic moment. These don’t happen often. It’s better than a panic attack. Those are the worst. And the depression, fuck that shit. The mania is triggered by my brain replaying that day and it won’t fucking stop. Once that horror film starts playing in the theater of my mind it just repeats itself, over and over and I will never sleep. This is why I don’t talk about that day.” He paused to look Tina squarely in the eyes. “You can go home. I will totally understand.”

  “Actually, I’m hungry too.” She took his hand and resumed walking. “I’m sorry I asked about Janie. I was thinking about this all day. I thought you had a girlfriend.”

  Joe laughed. “Oh, thank God it’s a just dead little sister,” he laughed again, harder. ”Nothing to worry over.”

  Tina punched him, “That is not funny?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s definitely funny.” Joe laughed demonstrably. “You must be so relieved I don’t have a girlfriend named Janie.” He paused. “It’s just a dead sister!”

  “Shut up, jerk.” She looked up at him. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  They continued walking in silence until Tina began snickering because it was darkly funny. Joe hugged her. It seemed the laughter calmed him down. They popped into the Skyline Diner. Joe ordered the twilight doubleheader, this time banana cream pie, and peach, with coffee. Tina ordered bacon, eggs, and toast.

  Stirring her coffee she looked up. “Did you say the dreams are silent?”

  “It starts with her singing and laughing as she pirouettes, then I scream, and it goes silent during the screaming, until the very end.” Joe sipped his coffee. He found Tina’s eyes. “There’s one more thing. My Dad came over and said through his tears, crying at me, ‘You’re the big brother. You’re supposed to watch over her.”

  “Oh, my God!” Tina’s eyes grew wide. “He said that?”

  “Yes, and that’s when I start crying. I felt responsible… like it was all my fault. I hear his words in the dream then it goes silent again as they load my sister in the ambulance. I never see her again.”

  There was a long silence. Tina put her hands across the table to hold his.

  “I don’t know why I told you all that,” Joe said, fidgeting with his cream pie. “It just came out. That’s my nightmare. I might wake you up sometimes but it’s happening less and less as the years go by.”

  “Did you have it a lot?”

  “I couldn’t sleep for the first year. I was afraid to.”

  “Seven years of therapy, huh? Tina snapped a piece of bacon in half with her teeth. “Do you still go?”

  “No.” “I’m eighteen. My doctor kicked me to the curb.” He took a bite of cream pie and a sip of coffee. “She tried to pawn me off to another shrink. I don’t want to start over again, retell all my horrors. Fuck that shit.”

  “When was your last appointment?”

  “A few months ago, in June.”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  Joe laughed, “If I unloaded the tangled mess inside my head on you… you would run screaming for the exit like the building was ablaze.”

  “No. I wouldn’t?” She squeezed his hand. “I cannot believe your father said that. That’s awful.”

  “Oh, he knew it right away. Dad held me and apologized before they followed the ambulance to the hospital. In the middle of the night, he came to my room and lay in my bed, apologizing again and crying with me. He felt terrible for saying those words.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “The thing is, I already felt that way. I was thinking about it before he said it. I should have stopped her.”

  “You can’t do that to yourself.”

  Joe laughed, “Oh yeah I can. I did it for years.” He exhaled. “Not so much anymore.”

  “Janie died that day?”

  “No, she held on for two days. She was broken, brain damaged, and never would have fully recovered. I remember my grandmother saying it’s better that she died, that Janie was in a better place and this was all part of God’s plan.”

  “I hate that shit.”

  “Me too. I love my Memere but I’ll never forgive her for saying that. It felt like she wasn’t grieving. I’ll never forget it. She made me hate God.”

  “But you don’t believe in God.”

  “I did before Janie died.”

  —-- STRAY CAT —--

  Joe spent ten days with Tina and Lana. He was wise to not make promises back home regarding his return. He phoned once not giving a timetable. This resulted in a surprise return, Jeanie running to him on the sidewalk when she saw him walking down Vinton Street with his duffel bag on his shoulder.

  She hugged him in front of a neighbor’s house. “I got your postcard yesterday. Did you go to that museum?”

  “Yes, Tina and I spent a few hours there.”

  “That building is so cool.” She took his hand to walk the last thirty yards home.

  “The Guggenheim is actually cooler inside. It’s a spiral ramp with art on the outer wall. You can look from the top all the way down. They had huge sculptures rising from the bottom level.”

  “Will you take me there someday?”

  “If you come to New York I’ll take you there.”

  Jackie smiled when Jeanie dragged Joe in like a stray cat. Jeanie called out, “Mom, Joey’s home!”

  Mom and Jules walked in to find him hugging Jackie.

  “What did you get me?” Jules asked. “As she grabbed a piece of him with her arms.”

  “Jesus, do I have to bring gifts every time I go away?”

  Jules looked up, “Yes.”

  “No.” Mom said as she kissed him on the cheek. “You don’t have to bring gifts. You coming home is a gift enough.”

  Joe looked at Jackie. “Who is this lady and what did she do with Mom?”

  Joe put his duffle bag on the counter, opened it, and pulled out a bag. “I did get you something you can share.”

  “What is it?” Jules reached for the bag. Joe pulled it away and then held it over his head. “Take it easy. There’s a story… sort of.”

  The four women stood around him, waiting, Mom in the back row.

  “Tina has the sweet tooth of a five-year-old. It’s kind of cute and funny but it’s also kinda sick. She will plow through a bag of candy like a raccoon in a dumpster.”

  The girls laughed, just a little.

  “They don’t need candy, Joseph,” Mom said.

  “Okay,’ he smiled. “I got all their favorites but I can eat them myself.”

  “Ma?” Jules whined. “It’s not up to you.”

  “Oh, it’s not?” Mom’s hands went to her hips. “Then who’s in charge?”

  “Joey,” Jeanie answered. “Because he bought the candy.”

  “So, Tina knows where every candy shop in town is. We had Katz’s delicatessen for lunch one day and she got all excited because there’s this old-timey candy store right around the corner. So she drags me there with a belly full of pastrami and fries and latkes. The last thing I need…”

  “Can we have our candy?” Jules begged. “Please?”

  “It’s not your candy until I give it to you.” Joe was telling this story to tease his sisters. He knew they’d get antsy and impatient so he spoke slowly. “Anyway. We had just pigged out on deli and the last thing I needed was more food. She drags me into this place, Economy Candy. It’s been there for like… fifty years.”

  “Why do we need to know this?” Jules whined.

  “It’s the price you pay for candy,” Joe said. “Anyway, she filled up a big bag. This size.” He waved the bag over Jules’ head. “That was just for her. I had to fill my own bag. On the subway, she’s pounding Swedish Fish and Hot Tamales. T loves anything gummy.”

  “Me too!” Jeanie said. “Did you get me the fishies?”

  “Take it easy. I’m almost done.”

  By now, Mom and Jackie know exactly what he’s doing. They stand back and watch the girls practically pee themselves in anticipation.

  “So, Tina is choking down candy, piling sweets on top of meat and latkes. When we got home, she turned pale, and then green, and she threw up in the toilet, meat and gummies. It was so gross.”

  “How old is she?” Mom asked.

  “Tina is twenty going on six.”

  Joe reached into the big bag and pulled out little bags, handing them out to the sisters.

  “Fishies!” Jeanie smiled. “And worms, Tootsie Rolls, and what’s this?” She held up a bag of unknown sweets.

  “I don’t know,” Joe said, “but it’s chewy.”

  Jules hugged Joe for her bag of soft chocolate candies and Hershey Bars, Almond Joy, and Junior Mints. She likes creamy textures. Jackie got a bag of dark chocolate and chocolate-covered nuts, her favorite, crunchy. Joe handed Mom her favorite.

  “Me too?” She smiled.

  “Hard candy, the ribbons and stuff. And butterscotch.”

  “What’s a latke?” Jeanie asked.

  “It’s a potato pancake.”

  “Gross.”

  “Why, you like potatoes and pancakes.”

  “Not together,” Jeanie said while stuffing a piece of taffy in her mouth.

  “What did you get Dad?” Jackie asked.

  “He gets to take any candy he wants from you girls.”

  Jules quickly disappeared, “I’m hiding mine.”

  After two days of hanging out at home. Joe went to the garage. He was not optimistic but he held a little hope that Sal and Johnny had come to their senses. It was more than a month since the band last played. Nate and Sal were in the kitchen. Pops was in the back of the garage, wiping down his ‘68 Eldorado. Sal was quick to deliver good news.

  “We have a club in Hampton Beach and another in Connecticut ready for us to set up a gig. They both have our card. The New London bar is where your friend from UConn hangs out. What’s her name?”

  “Chrissy.”

  “Did you fuck her?”

  “No,” Joe said flatly. “What’s up with Johnny?

  They did not come to their senses. Sal danced around the outpatient plan to the point of repeating himself. He could see Joe wasn’t moved. The situation deteriorated very quickly.

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Joe said. “I’m not getting on stage. I won’t go through that bullshit again.”

  “He’s clean and he’s doing great,” Sal said, just as Johnny walked in the door. “See for yourself.”

  “You just can’t do the right thing, can you, Sal? You’re an enabler. You’re making matters worse not better. The longer we don’t play the less likely it is we ever will. Does that make sense to you? I’m done!”

  “Who do you think you are?” Sal took a step closer, looking down at him. “You’re not the boss, Joe. We’re all equal in this band.”

  Joe exhaled, “Yeah, and some pigs are more equal than others.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s from Animal House,” Nate said.

  “Animal Farm!” Joe corrected him.

  “It means Joe thinks he’s better than us,” Johnny noted.

  “I don’t believe that,” Joe said. “I’m not better than any of you but I’m trying to be.”

  Joe walked to the steel door took hold of the knob and opened it. He looked back, “I’m done. I can’t play these stupid games with you. If you can’t take this seriously… I’m done.”

  He walked out. The door closed behind him.

  Sal looked at Johnny. “Can you believe that asshole? He thinks he’s better than us.”

  Johnny said nothing.

  “What does he mean he’s done?” Nate asked. “Is he quitting his own band?”

  “I don’t know,” Sal said. “He’s a fucking headcase. What the fuck else is he gonna do? He needs us.”

  Pops couldn’t take it anymore. He walked over from his car polishing. “Wake the fuck up!” He yelled at Sal. “How blind can you idiots be? Joe is the rocket ship and you guys are the monkey astronauts along for the goddamn ride.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Sal barked back. “We all do our job.”

  “And that kid has the biggest job of all. You’re living in his dream. He has all the ideas, the plan, the ambition.” He took a deep breath. “And the work ethic that made this all happen. What the hell would you monkeys be doing if he didn’t ask Sal to join his band?”

  No one answered.

  “I guarantee he doesn’t need you.” Pops continued. “If this thing is finished he’ll pick up the pieces and do it all over again with men he can depend on. Mark my words,” he pointed at Sal. “You'll still be checking driver’s licenses in my liquor store when Joe makes it big.“

  He glared at the three younger men. They had no reply. Pops walked out the same door Joe had just exited muttering something about clueless fucking idiots.

  That night, Joe spoke to Tina on the phone. He shooed his sisters out of the kitchen for privacy. That didn’t stop them from eavesdropping. Before Joe could tell Tina his bad news she went into her own bad day.

  “I went over to Simon’s. Monk and Judy were there. We tried to get him to come out for lunch but he was having none of it. He said he wanted to watch TV. He wasn’t hungry. I spoke with Judy outside. She says they’re afraid was becoming a shut-in.”

  “Of course, he’s self-conscious of his injuries.”

  “It’s not just that. They think Simon doesn’t feel safe in New York anymore. He feels vulnerable.”

  “With those injuries. I would feel that also. His healing is as much mental as physical. We need to give him time.”

  “I know but it was heartbreaking watching him make excuses. He’s not the same person he was…”

  “Of course, he isn’t Tina!” Joe cut her off. “He’s fucked up and I know what that’s like.”

  “You don’t have to get upset.”

  “I’m not. I’m just telling you that everything will happen on Simon’s schedule, no one else's.”

  “Okay. I’m just saying people are concerned.”

  “That’s fine but we can’t push him. It’s okay to ask him to join us but don’t get pushy. You’ll get the opposite of what you want, trust me on that.”

  “What happened at the garage?”

  Joe told Tina the latest news which was the same as the old news. “I feel like I’m stuck in a Catch-22 scenario. To save my band I’d have to take Sal and Johnny’s word that he’s clean even as I don’t believe him. I can’t take him back to New York if he’s not off drugs. Even if he is clean I’m not sure I can trust him to stay that way. It could be the only way to save Johnny from himself is to blow up the band. Is that a Catch-22? I don’t know. My head is so fucked up I can’t think straight.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Tina said. “So, you’ll be coming back soon?”

  “Yes, my band’s misfortune is your good fortune.”

  “You know I don’t want that.”

  “I was joking.”

  After Joe hung up, he walked through the living room where Jules was pretending to be reading.

  “That’s not a Catch-22,” she said.

  “What?” Joe stopped walking.

  “What you said isn’t a Catch-22. I read your book. I know what it means.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I’m your smartest sister you know?”

  “Jackie’s the…”

  “Jackie gets some B’s. I get all A’s.”

  “Okay,” Joe walked off. “Go tell Mom I just called you an arrogant little rat with big ears.”

  Joe would be back on the train to NYC soon with no timetable for his return. As far as he was concerned, The Young Punks were done.