—-- OCTOBER 1979 —--

  Joe hung around Providence for a few more days giving his sisters more time and resisting the urge to take the train to Penn Station. He had a band-related project. He just wasn't sure what band, his old band or the next band.

  He noticed a pattern with Tina. They spoke every evening, sometimes for hours late into the night. She was good for four days, maybe five, then she’d start whining that she missed him and began asking when he was coming back to New York. By day eight or nine, she was sad and weepy. Joe hopped on the train on day ten. This time, Tina knew he was coming and on what train.

  When Joe walked into Penn Station, he heard a yelp and noticed a commotion to his left. He saw purple hair coming through the crowd, against the flow of passengers getting off the train. She split a couple in two trying to reach Joe and lunged into his arms.

  “Take it easy,” he said. “You almost killed those people.” The woman looked back, glaring at Joe who had T’s arms around his neck and lips on his face. “Sorry!” He waved at the older lady.

  “I missed you so much,” Tina said. “The last few days were awful. I hate sleeping alone.” She kissed him again took his hand with a huge smile and happily walked to their subway connection. She was a chatterbox the whole way.

  On the crowded rush hour subway, she leaned against Joe, looking up at him with love in her eyes. This is what Joe imagined it would be like to be in love. He was so happy to see her so happy to see him. The strange thing was; that coming home to Tina was exactly like coming home to his sisters… except for one huge difference.

  “I have good news,” Tina stood on her toes to speak into his ear. “There’s a big faculty event at school. I have no classes tomorrow and no work. We’re not leaving the apartment. I’ve already stocked up on groceries. I’m going to fuck you silly.”

  Joe noticed a proper-looking older gentleman behind Tina slowly turn. He met Joe’s eyes. Tina didn’t whisper softly enough. Joe smiled. The old man smiled, nodded, and winked.

  —-- ANDY CAPP —--

  After being held hostage in the purple and pink sex sanctuary for a day, Tina was back in class and Joe stopped in to see Simon. More than six weeks had passed since the attack. When Joe had a week or more between visits, Simon’s improvement was obvious.

  “So you can play?” Joe smiled when he walked in on Simon fiddling with his guitar. “This is good progress.”

  “I’m bloody awful,” Simon said. “I’m using my guitar for rehab. I can only mess about for a short time. My fingers are all pins and needles, and then pain. I pound the painkillers before I play so they’ll kick in at the right time.”

  “What do you say we get out of here for lunch? You could use some sunlight.”

  “Nah. I’m good.” Simon said. “Jett dropped off some groceries. I’m cooking for myself.”

  “A walk would do you good. You didn’t break a leg.”

  “Not because they didn’t try.” Simon lowered his head. “Not today, Joe, but keep asking.”

  “Okay, buddy.” Joe put his hand on Si’s shoulder. “Show me what you can play. Just a little.”

  Days later, Joe asked again. Simon declined, he had food in the fridge.

  “I just checked your fridge.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Joe reached into his backpack and pulled out a paper bag. He presented Simon with a gift. This is for you. Simon opened it and removed a garment.

  He nodded, “This will work. He placed the cap on his head.”

  “I have never seen you with a hat,” Joe said, “This is the only style I could imagine you in.”

  “It’s a good choice,” Simon smiled and went to his mirror. “It covers the worst of it.”

  It was an old-style wool cap, the kind English and Irishmen wear, like Andy Capp in the Sunday comics. When Joe saw Simon’s smile while he looked in the mirror he felt like a million bucks. The Brit was coming back.

  “You’re coming out for lunch. That’s not a request.”

  Simon scrunched his nose, then looked back at the mirror. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

  It was a little painful watching Simon walk the blocks to the subway and then from the subway to the Parkside Grille. They hadn’t broken his legs but he had deep bone bruises from the beating and hadn’t walked any distance in weeks. Joe slowed his pace to match his. On this day, Simon was in good spirits in public. That, and the fact he could play a little bad guitar made Joe feel his friend had reached a milestone. For the first time, he felt good about Simon’s progress.

  *****

  While T was in class, Joe hung around Jones Street and the Village. He popped in at Strider Records, just a half block from 3C. He grabbed a coffee and Rolling Stone magazine at a corner market and went home to write music. He had ideas in his head, words, and sounds. He sat on the living room sofa strumming his white pawn shop tele with his amp on low. Lana walked in.

  “Are you gonna sing to me again?”

  “Sure,” Joe smiled. “But let’s wait for T. It’s more fun when she’s here.”

  “She was not happy about L-A-N-A Lana.”

  “I know. It’s cute now but someday…” Joe winced.

  “Oh, have you had jealous girlfriends?”

  “Not a girlfriend but sort of.” Joe set his Tele down and went to the fridge for a drink. “So that lessened her claim. We had a non-exclusivity deal.”

  “When are you going back to Rhode Island?”

  Joe sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe next Monday. I have to deal with band shit.” He popped open a bottle of orange juice and took a big, long drink.

  “Hey, don’t drink from the bottle.”

  “Okay, Mom,” he smiled. “I paid for it. I have bottle privileges. Just so you know.” He took another sip and returned the bottle to the fridge.

  “I thought your band was over,” she said. “You gave up.”

  “It’s bad but I haven’t completely given up.”

  Lana leaned, hip out, one hand on the hip. “Do you consider me a friend?”

  Joe leaned his back against the fridge and smiled, seeing another woman with a hand on her hips move when she had something to say. “Yeah, we’re friends and part-time roommates.”

  “Then why haven’t you talked to me about that?”

  “About what?

  “Your band… and Johnny.”

  “Because it’s embarrassing. We’re just a bunch of loser punks who can’t keep a good thing going.” Joe shrugged. “I’m not gonna bore you with my problems.”

  “If what Tina says is true,” she scrunched her nose. “It ain’t boring. It’s some serious shit.”

  “And it’s stupid. This happens to so many bands but that doesn’t make it hurt less. I never thought it would be my band because I keep drugs…” He paused, thinking. Joe moved his hand out, away from his body and up. “I keep drugs out here. There’s a place for them. I like weed but I have no interest in anything else. I didn’t think…”

  “Joe, there are three other guys. It’s not just your band. You can’t control it all. Tina told me what you’re going through.” Lana moved closer, put her hand on Joe’s forearm, and looked up at him. “You’re a good guy, Joe. You care about your friend more than your band and maybe even yourself. I’m no longer concerned about Tina. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  “Were you concerned about her before?”

  “Well, yes. When I heard you were a musician I wondered what kind of guy you were. She seemed too into you too early and I was worried.” Lana stepped back, “And maybe someday I’ll see this fucking band I’m hearing so much about, Young Punks, blah, blah, blah, sideshow, blah, blah, blah, singalongs.” She smiled. “That girl believes in you. She says you’re gonna be famous someday.”

  “I did tell you she’s delusional, didn’t I? I have years of therapy behind me and I read shit. I know stuff about…” he pointed at his temple.

  “Yes, you did.”

  ******

  A few days after he arrived, Joe called home to check-in. Mom answered which was rare. The girls usually ran to the phone. Mom and Joe talked for a minute. She passed the phone to Jules, who then handed it off to Jeanie, who passed the baton to Jackie.

  “Sal has called twice looking for you,” she said. “He called the day you left and again yesterday. He wants you to call the garage.”

  “He has my number here. If it was really important…”

  “Do you think maybe he lost it? It is Sal.”

  “Good point. Maybe he did.”

  “Would you like me to give it to him if he calls again?”

  “No. I don’t care what Sal has to say. When I get back in town I’ll go to the garage.”

  “Are you dicking around with him?”

  “No, I’m not fucking around. We have problems he won’t deal with. I’m giving him space and time to figure it out.”

  “You did this to Mom when she read your journal. You froze her out, wouldn’t talk, and gave her nothing for weeks.”

  “It wasn’t that long.”

  “All I’m saying is,” Jackie paused. “I know your head games, Joe. And you’re playing them with your band.”

  “You’re too fucking smart to be fourteen.”

  “I’ll be fifteen in three weeks. You better be home for my birthday.”

  “I’m not making any promises but you know I’ll do my best.”

  -—-- UP AND COMER —--

  Tina had to work a long shift because there was a Von Something German Gallery event. She had helped plan and organize the event which showed that Magaret had some faith in Tina’s abilities. T was nervous so Joe popped in on the public showing of a French couple’s work to lend support. The male artist was a painter, the woman a sculptor. They were lovers. She was the subject of many of his works. He was the inspiration for hers.

  Tina’s eyes bugged out and she smiled when Joe walked in. He waved but stayed away as she was busy with patrons. He walked up to a twelve-inch phallic sculpture, looked back at Tina, and smiled. He pointed at the plaster cock. She excused herself.

  “So this is what you do for a job.” he smiled as she pecked him on the cheek. “Display pornographic art, front, and center?”

  “She wanted this to be the first piece anyone sees.”

  “Mission accomplished.” Joe gestured to a painting of a hairy pussy with fingers holding the lips apart to show her clit and vagina. “I’m no art critic but something tells me this schlong is intimately familiar with that… grand opening.”

  A lady standing behind Joe laughed. Joe turned and made a face. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, no. You’re fine.” She placed her hand on Joe’s shoulder while looking at Tina. “And who might this dashing young man be?”

  Tina smiled, “Joe, this is Gail Mortensen. This is my boyfriend, Joe Theroux.”

  “Ah, a Frenchman.” Gail offered her hand. Joe accepted. “You must meet Claude and Claudia.”

  “Are you serious,” Joe smirked. “Claude and Claudia? Are they twins? Is this an incest exhibit?”

  Tina gasped, a little shocked. She looked at Gail Mortensen relieved to see Gail snicker while sliding her fingers down Joe’s sleeve until she reached his hand. She looked at Tina, taking Joe by the hand. “Let me show him around. I’d like his thoughts on some of the other works.”

  Joe looked at T with a smile as Gail put her arm under Joe’s and gripped his hand tighter. He shrugged. He had no clue who this lady was but she was attractive and dressed elegantly. Her auburn hair was up but he could tell she had long hair because there was a lot of it. Gail was slender, older than his Mom, he was guessing… but not much older. She had beautiful eyes and expensive jewelry.

  “So, you and Tina Costello, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “You're a musician?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re from Rhode Island.”

  “Yes. I guess Tina filled you in on the basics.”

  “No,” Gail smiled. “I just know things.”

  She stopped in front of a painting of breasts alongside a sculpture of the same breasts. “What do you think of these?”

  Joe pondered for a moment. He noticed Tina was looking over keeping tabs on him. “I prefer my breasts to be three-dimensional so prefer the sculpture.” He leaned toward the painting. “Although he did make these nipples very enticing?”

  “You’re not afraid to say anything, are you?”

  “I’m stoned, had one shot and one beer, and I’m not just a musician,” Joe bowed. “I am a clown.”

  Gail stared at Joe. I heard that about you too. She and Joe walked the exhibit, which was not big, talked about the art on display, and looped back to the beginning where Margaret was standing. Joe stopped, “There’s Mags, the art Nazi.”

  Gail laughed again, “You are not wrong.” She leaned close. Joe could smell her perfume. It was very pleasant. She whispered in his ear. “She’s a snob, a bitch, and she can’t be trusted. I didn’t come here for…” Gail smiled. “Mags. I like that name because she would absolutely hate it.”

  “Wow, you’re awfully catty.” Joe made claws.

  “I’ve had a couple of cocktails myself. Come with me. I need another martini.”

  At the bar, Gail ordered two dirty martinis, insisting Joe have one with her. Tina was still watching from afar as she was showing patrons around. He shrugged again. Tina smiled and made kissy lips.

  “Tina is a very bright young lady with a big future. I met her last year at an NYU fundraiser and was immediately impressed. I bought several of her urban prints for our summer cottage in Connecticut.”

  “Architectural photography? That’s her best stuff, but she’s great with people too.”

  “Yes. She is very good with people. If she can hang in here with Mags, and prove she has the toughness to deal with that… Nazi, as you called her.” Gail held her fresh martini up. Joe raised his glass. “Your girl will have her pick of jobs in this city. Here’s to Tina.”

  “The woman I love,” Joe smiled at Gail, then looked across the room at T. “She’s incredible.” He sipped his gin.

  Gail sipped her cocktail. “Yes, she is, and I love her too. Your girl is an up-and-comer in this art game.”

  Another older patron of the arts pulled Gail away. Joe waited for Tina to complete her rounds, not approaching Mags who clearly saw him speaking at length with a woman who appeared to be her rival. Mags did not attempt to speak with him. And that was fine with Joe.

  Once he saw the exhibit, and Gail moved on, Joe was left to his own devices and the event became rather dull. Most patrons were grandparents. The younger attendees were his Mom and Dad’s age. Joe hung near the bar, making small talk with the lady bartender.

  After the event, Tina pushed Joe against the wall of a building three doors down from VSGG. She forced a kiss on him. “Do you have any idea how hot you looked hanging out with Gail Mortensen? I bet she wanted to fuck you. I’m not guessing. She said you’re the most charming young man she’s ever met… and I agree.” She kissed him hard again.

  “Thank you so much for coming to this thing. It means a lot to me.” Tina kissed him again, long and slow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t spend time with you. Let’s get home.” She pulled him by the hand. “I’m so fucking horny right now.”

  She pulled him by the hand, “I love you so much.”

  —- CALLING IN A CHIP —-

  Joe phoned home a few days after his first call, and Jackie answered. “Tony Mancuso called.”

  “Pops called the house?”

  “Yes. He wants you to call the garage. He said something about chips. What’s that about?”

  “Nothing.”

  Joe phoned the garage the following day during the afternoon hours Sal typically works the liquor store. Pops answered.

  “Pops, it’s Joe. What’s going on?”

  “Okay, kid. A few weeks back you said if I need a favor, something you could do, I should call in a chip. Well, I’m calling one in.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I need you to come home and have a sit down with Sal, Johnny, and Nate. I’ll be here to keep things civil. I don’t want you guys arguing. There must be some compromise we could agree to. I’m asking you to meet them halfway.”

  Joe exhaled audibly. “Sal got to you?”

  “No, he didn’t. He has no clue I’ve reached out to you. This is me. I’m speaking for myself. I’m asking for the favor, not Sal.”

  “Okay. I’ll come back on Wednesday. My girl will not be happy. I need a day to deal with that.”

  “All I ask is that you come with an open mind,” Pops said.

  “Okay. I’ll take an early train after T is off to class.”

  Joe upset Tina by leaving Wednesday when she thought he was staying through the weekend. The conversation got more than a little whiny. He assured her he’d come right back.

  “Before Pops called I wasn’t too concerned with what Sal is doing. The matter was out of my hands.” He put his hand on hers. “Pops asking me to come talk means something changed. I hope so. I have to go find out why he’s involved.”

  “But I changed my Friday schedule so we could have a long weekend,” she said, sadly.

  “I know,” he said. “and I’m sorry. I have to work on this project.”

  “What project?”

  “My plan for the future.”

  “How long will you be up there?”

  “I’ll come back in a few days. This isn’t a big deal. I just have to be there for Pops.”

  Joe surprised his family by arriving midweek, unexpectedly. His sisters pouted that he didn’t arrive bearing gifts.

  “I didn’t know I was coming home today.”

  He did not go to the garage first. Joe wanted to speak to Dad before he saw Pops and the guys.

  After dinner. When the house settled down late in the evening, he and Dad talked privately.

  “I came back because Tony reached out. He’s asked me to meet with Sal. Pops has done so much for us that I can’t say no. I feel I owe him.”

  “Is he trying to mediate?”

  “I guess so. I’m concerned he might push me to take Johnny back without rehab, which is taking Sal’s position. I hate that I’ll have to say no to Pops.”

  “Okay,” Dad said. “I have something to tell you. Back in August when you hadn’t called home for almost two weeks your Mom and the girls were worried. I went to the garage to ask Tony if he’d heard from Sal and if everything was okay in New York.”

  “I didn’t hear about this.”

  “Yes, because I asked Tony to not tell you. I wasn’t meddling. I was just checking in as a concerned father.”

  “Okay. Why the secrecy?”

  “He and I had a long talk over a beer. That man thinks the world of you. He said you’re a smart kid, you’re ambitious and hard-working, and we shouldn’t worry about you. You'll be fine.”

  Joe didn’t respond so Dad continued.

  “Tony said something funny. I laughed at the time but the more I thought about it the more I realized he was trying to make a serious point.” Dad paused. “He said, ‘Joe is the rocket ship and my kid is just the monkey astronaut going along for the ride. He said the band is yours. You run the show and those guys are just living in your dream.”

  “Well, I like the monkey astronaut line because sometimes it feels that way. It seems I’m doing all the thinking for the band.”

  Dad put his hand up. “Don’t let it go to your head. All I’m saying is don’t go into this meeting thinking Tony is on Sal’s side. He’s not. He’s one of your allies.”

  —— THE GODFATHER ——

  Joe worked on his project that night. He phoned the garage early the next day and told Pops he'd be there at noon. When he arrived the band was seated at the kitchen table. Tony was cooking. Italian music played on the stereo, Boccuccia di Rosa. Pops usually played Sinatra or Dean Martin but he had a couple of Italian crooners he enjoyed, like Fred Buscaglione.

  Joe nodded, didn’t say a word. and took a seat at the end of the six-seat kitchen set. Pops took the seat opposite Joe.

  “Thanks for coming back for this,” Sal said.

  “I'm here because Pops asked, not for you,” Joe said coldly.

  “That’s enough with the attitude,” Pops said. “We get it. You’re pissed off at Sal. You can stop now. We’re here to talk.”

  Joe immediately likened this sit-down to something the Italian mob might do to make peace between warring factions within the family. That would make Pops The Godfather. Tony reached over and touched Johnny.

  “You’re up, Junior.”

  That’s when Joe realized they had a gameplan and Johnny was to speak for himself. Joe thought that was a smart move. He was sick of hearing Sal’s excuses but he was sympathetic towards Johnny. Also, Johnny was less likely to escalate should the talk not go the way they hoped.

  Johnny took a deep breath. “I know how you feel, Joe. You don’t have to explain yourself. I respect your position because it makes sense. The thing is, you don’t know addiction or treatment and how the system works. I do. I especially know what works and doesn’t work for me.”

  Johnny went on to explain his past experiences in rehab, admitting that he’d been hospitalized three times, not just once as Sal had previously stated. His last hospital stay was just before he left college. He was told that his school environment and his friends at URI were contributing to his problem.

  “And this band,” Joe interrupted, “Our lifestyle contributes to your problem. We dragged you to New York and look what happened. Idle time is your enemy, Johnny, and we have too much of it.”

  “I know,” Johnny said sharply. “But you need to let me seek help on my terms. The hospital stays work for a short time but it’s the constant outpatient treatment that keeps me in the program. The problem in New York was I hooked up with bad people because I didn’t have good people to lean on… my doctors are here.”

  Joe hated that Johnny was making a good case because he sensed he was being forced into a no-win situation. If this talk ended with him standing his ground and walking away he would be perceived as the bad guy, the obstacle to peace. If he acquiesced and put the band back together he was convinced it would hurt Johnny in the long run. That was his gut feeling. There were no good options.

  “Okay,” he said. “So you have no support in New York. How can we play there or stay in any city where you don’t have your people?”

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  “I’m working on that. I’m looking for resources in Manhattan through the clinic I use here.”

  Joe sat quietly. He met the eyes of each man, from Johnny, to Pops, to Nate, and finally Sal. He was annoyed that Sal was winning this meeting by keeping his fat mouth shut.

  Pops then made a suggestion that convinced Joe he was fucked. “We think you could get the band back in shape and do some local shows, just to see how it feels. You can judge Johnny for yourself. Maybe you keep the band out of New York until Johnny makes arrangements down there.”

  Joe leaned back in his chair knowing he was no longer negotiating from a position of strength. At best, he was on equal footing. He controlled his own actions and could walk out but he would not look good rebuffing their attempt at a compromise.

  Sal finally spoke up, saying the same shit he’d been saying for weeks, ‘Johnny is doing great, blah, blah, he feels good, blah, blah, blah, he looks good, and you need to give him a chance to prove it.’ Joe half listened as he considered his dilemma. He felt cornered.

  “Joe, I’m sorry I relapsed. I’m sorry I fucked up everything you’ve worked hard to build. I would like a chance to fix that mistake. I’m only asking for a second chance.”

  How could Joe say no?

  “Why are you keeping this relapse from your dad?”

  “Because he’d drag my ass to The Berkshires where I did my rehab. I can’t go back there, Joe. It makes me crazy. Sure, I'll have no access to drugs and I’ll get clean but it doesn’t keep me on the right path. The local people do, my sponsor and the doctors.”

  —-- ONE MORE ITALIAN —-

  After the meeting, Joe spent two hours in his room in a state of meditation. Lying on his bed, his stereo on low, just thinking. He didn’t like this compromise. He felt he was ambushed. He could have dug his heels in and been the bad guy… or take the loss. He rolled the dice on Johnny to save face, to avoid being the villain, and it made his skin crawl. It was wrong. He called Tina that evening and told her about the deal and how he felt. She thought he was being stubborn and he should look at the positive side.

  “And now I have to stay here and work on this so I’m not coming back for a while.”

  Suddenly, the band getting back together had a downside for Tina. “How long?”

  “At least a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m coming up there.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m driving up.”

  “I don’t think,” Joe said, then course-corrected, “Are you sure you want to drive?”

  “It’s I-95 all the way, right?”

  “Yes. The downtown Providence exit, Atwells Ave. We’re a mile west of the highway.”

  “Do you want me to come?”

  “Yeah, now that I think about it, yes. I want you to meet my sisters.”

  “When you left town I was upset that I changed my Friday schedule for nothing. This is good. I’ll leave early in the morning. How long is the drive?”

  “It’s around 180 miles. Give yourself at least three hours.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “Yeah, but I have one reservation.”

  “What?”

  “The last thing Federal Hill needs is one more Italian.”

  “Shut up.”

  Public schools were on fall break. News that Tina was coming up to Providence had Mom and Jackie in house-cleaning mode. The girls had to clean their room. Mom told Joe to go downstairs and fix up his body odor pig sty.”

  “Pfft,” he smiled. “I’m not cleaning shit. She’s not the Queen of England. She’s seen me on the toilet. I have nothing to hide.”

  “You could at least pick up your underwear.”

  “Guess what, Ma. She’s seen my underwear, on me…” he smirked. “and off me.”

  Joe’s sisters tittered as Mom walked away to find something to clean. Hours passed. Jeanie couldn’t keep her face out of the front window. She was peeking through the curtains like Mrs. Kravitz all morning. By one o’clock, Joe was beginning to get worried, just a little. The phone rang at 1:22.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Providence but I got turned around. I’m at Angell and Benefit Street.”

  “How the fuck did you get there? You’re on the wrong side of the highway on the other side of downtown.”

  “I don’t know how I got here. I just need to get there. I’m very stressed out right now.” She huffed. “I got lost in Connecticut too.”

  “That’s why you’re so late.”

  “Can you just give me directions?”

  “Okay, the good news is, Angell Street is one way so you can’t fuck this up. Follow Angell downtown past the railroad station and the civic center. You can’t miss them. They’re obvious. Then take the right on Atwells Ave. You’ll cross back over the highway. Go one mile to the Holy Ghost Church. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay. I’m only taking one turn on Atwells?”

  “And you can only turn right. You can’t go wrong. When you pass the highway you’ll drive under the Holy Hand Grenade. That’s when you know you’re on Federal Hill. You’ll see your people, the greaseballs. About a mile from the highway look for the big church on the left, down the hill. I’ll be out front.”

  Tina found Joe sitting on the front steps of the church of his youth. He played CYO basketball for the Holy Ghosts. She then excitedly explained that she had accidentally exited I-95 in Connecticut and drove for miles on I-91 toward Hartford before she realized her error and doubled back. Then she got lost in Providence. Before they got out of the car at the Theroux house Joe calmed her down.

  “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’re here, Magellan. And your day is only going to get weirder.”

  Jeanie was still looking out the window. “They’re kissing!”

  “When you said Holy Hand Grenade I was confused. Then I saw it hanging from the arch. What is that thing?”

  “LaPigna, the pine cone. We call it the Holy Hand Grenade… from Monty Python, the Holy Grail.”

  Tina smiled. “Okay. I knew I had heard that before.”

  When Joe opened the kitchen door and saw his sisters standing, he shook his head. “This isn’t an army drill. Why are you lined up for inspection?”

  “We’re not,” Jules said.

  “You are.” He looked at Mom in the back row.

  “Oh. My God,” Tina said, placing her hand on Joe’s arm. “They look just like you.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Sure, they do,” she smiled at Jackie. “You’re tall like Joe and have his olive complexion and dark hair.” She looked down at Jules, “She has your face and nose, the same cheekbones.”

  “I don’t have a big nose,” Jules said.

  “Neither do I,” Joe answered.

  “You do,” she said back.

  “That means Tina thinks you have a big nose too,” Joe stuck his tongue out.

  “I do not,” Tina said, pushing Joe slightly. “You have the same shaped nose. His is big. Yours is small.”

  “What about me?” Jeanie smiled.

  “You have your brother’s smile and the sparkle in his eye.” Tina turned to Joe. “I can see you in her eyes.”

  Joe could not have written a better script. Tina was just being herself… perfect. Mom moved through the girls to get a hug. “I’m so happy to meet you, Tina. We’ve heard a lot about you.” She looked at her hair, taking a strand in her fingers. “And your purple hair.”

  “It’s really cool,” Jackie smiled. “And I love the clothes you make.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad someone besides me is wearing them.”

  Proper introductions were made. They sat around the table talking, Jeanie and Jules interrogating T with too many questions while Jackie got started on dinner. Mom had to get ready for work.

  Tina turned to Joe. “Where can I put my bag?”

  “Down in my room.”

  “Oh, no.” Mom said. “We’ve made arrangements. She’ll have Jules’ bed and…”

  “Hell no!” Joe shut her down. “She’s staying with me. I’m eighteen. It’s either that or we can spend the night at the garage. I can do that.”

  Mom stared at Joe, not happy he would be living in sin under her roof. “I’ll speak to your father,” she said quietly.

  “Good, because Dad will have my back on this one, and if he doesn’t we’ll sleep in the garage.” Joe shrugged. “It’s your call, Ma.”

  “Very well,” she walked away.

  “Is he always like that with your Mom?” Tina asked the girls.

  “That was nothing,” Jules said. “Joey and Mom are always…”

  “Joey?” Tina smiled.

  “Yes, they call me Joey,” he said. “You can’t.”

  “Whatever,” Tina smiled. “Where’s the dungeon you told me about, Joey?”

  When Tina walked into Joe’s room she stopped in the middle and did a quick 360. There was a lot to take in. Racks of vinyl, stacks of books, clothes everywhere, so many tee shirts, and trinkets collected over the years, a rock from a mountain he climbed in New Hampshire, Mount Hale near Zealand Falls. Tina went straight to the cartoons stacked on a milk crate filled with records.

  “What’s all this?”

  “That’s stuff I drew when I was a kid… before I went to the Mead system.”

  “And you kept it?” She was puzzled by the brown paper.

  “Yeah. That cartoon represents a time in my life.” Joe pulled a few from her hand. “This is no different than a photo of me in ninth grade.”

  “And who is this?” She pointed at a cartoon character.

  “That’s my crappy teacher and those are the snotty popular kids.”

  “I see,” Tina laughed. “Their noses are all turned up.” She smiled at Joe, liking his teen art. She turned the brown paper over. “Are these the nerds?”

  “Yes. I was busted for these cartoons when I was in middle school and again in ninth grade. They made me recover my books. I kept the evidence of my crime to prove my guilt.”

  Tina put her arms around Joe’s neck and kissed him sweetly. “I’m so happy to be in your home, and your sisters are better than you said they would be.”

  “You’re gonna have to give them all some one-on-one time. Trust me. I can’t hold your hand all weekend. I’ll coach you.”

  “Like what?”

  “With Mom, you talk about your super Catholic Mom and that you graduated with honors from Catholic Prep School… and then you tell her you took me to church.”

  “You’ve never gone to church.”

  “But we did. I picked up those prayer cards at the cathedrals. You were with me. Mom loved those because she knew it was not so easy for me to walk into a church. You should take credit for that.”

  “Oh, my God. You’re such a schemer. I see you do it with your band and with Simon and now your family. It makes me wonder how you’re scheming with me.”

  “Yes, I’m giving you all my love in this crazy scam hoping I can steal your love from you.”

  Tina smiled, looking into his eyes. “Who talks like that? I need to pay more attention to what you say. What about the girls?”

  “They’re so easy. Jackie is fashion and hair, Jules is books and fairytales, Jeanie is music and art, but she’s a crappy artist. It’s hilarious.”

  “Don’t say that about your sister.”

  “Seriously. She can dance and sing but can’t draw for shit. She still draws like a toddler.”

  “You’re awful.”

  “Go ahead.” Joe pointed upstairs. “Ask Jeanie to draw you a horse. It’s so bad it’s great.”

  “You’re so mean.”

  “No, I’m just honest.”

  Dad came home, met Tina over dinner, and then T watched Cronkite with him, telling Dad about her dad, the Brooklyn city councilman, Kennedy Democrat. Joe knew Dad would be a pushover. Tina charmed him.

  “Joey,” Jeanie burst out of her room. “Can we play a board game?”

  The girls did not stop pestering them all weekend and that was fine. They wanted to spend time with Tina. They played Monopoly and The Game of Life. On Saturday, the sisters piled into Tina’s Chevy Nova and Joe navigated Tina downtown to Haven Brothers for lunch. Five crammed into the stainless steel trailer eating cheeseburgers and greasy fries. After that, it was sightseeing from the car and a stop for ice cream at DePasquale Square.

  After Mom cooked a big Saturday dinner, Joe and Tina called it a night. It was a very busy and weird thirty hours for Tina. They lay on Joe’s bed with a Moody Blues record on low. Tina’s head was against his upper chest, her hair tickling his nose.

  “So many things you told me about your sisters are true. Jackie is smart and put together. She’s gonna be fine. Jules is so sensitive and always thinking. And Jeanie, it’s like how many questions can a kid ask in one day? She’s insatiable.”

  “I know,” Joe laughed.

  “You saved me a few times, stepping in to answer a few.”

  “She’s been interrogating me since she was three. I can handle Jeanie.”

  “She thinks you know everything.”

  “Yeah, well, she’ll learn her error someday.”

  “Are we going to the garage tomorrow?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t get to meet Pops?”

  “Not this trip.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not a good time for me to bring you there. I was bluffing Mom. I can’t go to the garage right now. I called Pops and told him I’d see them after the weekend. I want to take you someplace you’ll love tomorrow. I guarantee. You can’t tell the girls because they’ll want to go.”

  The next morning during breakfast Tina told the girls they were going someplace special they love but Joey wouldn’t say where and the girls badgered him into submission. Jeanie and Jules then tagged along to The Rhode Island School of Design Museum of Art and Natural History.

  “We’ve been here like four times,” Jules bragged. “This is my fifth.”

  Joe was only slightly annoyed that Tina blew up his plans to have time alone with her. He was happy she wanted to spend time with his sisters.

  On Sunday night, Joe dreaded having to go to the garage on Monday and Tina dreaded her drive back to New York. They sat on his bed discussing the band developments for the first time all weekend.

  “You should be happy Johnny looks good and wants to make things right,” Tina said. “You should be happy the band is still together. I know I am.”

  “I know,” Joe said, sitting in the kitchen with spies nearby, “I hate feeling this way. I hope I’m wrong… because this doesn’t feel right.”

  “Last week you said you were getting the itch. You must be looking forward to playing again.”

  “I am. That’ll be easy. We’ll be ready in two days but I’m gonna drag it out just to observe and see how the guys are. T, there’s some bad blood in the band now. We can’t put what happened and the words said back in the bottle. We’ll never be the same.”

  “Remember when you said I’ve never met the real Johnny?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Will I meet him soon?”

  “I don’t know if Johnny Cool is ever coming back,” Joe said sadly. “Even when he looks good he’s not the same. The light in his eye just isn’t there. I miss that guy.”

  Joe did not tell Tina everything, like the fact they would avoid NYC for a while to assess things locally. All he told her was they would play a few nearby venues and if all was good, they’d set up a road trip. He had one important mission for Tina that might help him return to New York sooner.

  “I need a huge favor, T. I need you to complain to Uncle Babe about 1B. Tell him they’re drug dealers, he’s armed, and the place is a pigsty you can smell from the hall.”

  “Okay. I can’t do that. I will speak to Babe. I know Mark and Jay in 1A would do it. They know what’s going on in there”

  “Good,” Joe said, “And get the other gay couple on the second floor too, I don’t know their names.”

  “Roy and Peter.”

  “Get them on board too. The more tenants involved the better.”

  —--- THE INTERSTATE PLAN —--

  Joe thought he was arriving early but Pops was there long before him. Joe carried a large piece of cardboard, folded in half, under his arm. He had his notebook and some loose pages. He set everything down on the kitchen table.

  “What’s that,” Pops looked over. “Your science project?”

  “No. My business plan.”

  “If you have charts and graphs you’ll lose these clowns.”

  “It’s a map.”

  “Same difference.”

  Joe laid out his map on the table. It was taped to the cardboard so he could stick push pins in it. He pulled the pins out of his pocket and began sticking holes in the map. Pops glanced over.

  “If you wanna have some fun ask one of them to find a place on your map.”

  Joe didn’t reply. He focused on his work. Once all the pins were in he sat down and opened his composition notebook. Sal arrived a few minutes later. He looked at the map, nodded at Joe, and grabbed a cup of coffee. He and Pops made small talk. Joe remained quiet.

  Pops slid a cup of coffee in front of Joe. “You’re sore about this, aren’t you?”

  Joe picked up the coffee. “Thanks.” He took a sip. “I’ll get over it.”

  “You know a compromise is fair when both sides feel they gave something up and don’t feel good about it.”

  Joe looked up at Pops. “What did they give up? What did Sal lose in the compromise?”

  Pops looked at Sal. They had no reply for that. Pops looked at the kid. Joe could see in Pop’s eyes that he recognized Joe’s grievance. Joe went back to his notes. Nate and Johnny walked in together. Once they had coffee and a Dunkin’ Donuts, everyone sat at the table. Pops watched from behind. Joe wasted no time.

  “I’ve made a bunch of phone calls recently and more since we made this… deal. I spoke with three of those new clubs, just to connect. I called Randy. He was pleased to hear from me.”

  “What the fuck is this,” Sal pointed at the map, “geometry class?” He snickered.

  “Are you serious?”

  Sal laughed. “Is there gonna be a quiz?”

  “It’s a map, Sal, geography, not geometry.”

  Nate and Johnny snickered.

  “For those of you who flunked geography, this is a map of New England, all six states. It has some far eastern New York, including the city.

  Johnny raised his hand as if he were in school. “What are the pins for?”

  Joe pointed at each pin. “Providence, Boston, Worcester, Springfield, New Haven. Our old venues are marked with a green pin. Down here are the beach clubs, over here are our New York borough gigs.”

  Nate raised a hand. “What are the red pins?”

  “The red pins are new clubs we have yet to play. Some are off the map, so I pinned them to the edge.”

  Sal nodded at the map. “What’s that cluster below New York, in the ocean?”

  “I just told you. Those represent clubs Jada gave me info on in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. The three up top are Albany, Syracuse, and Troy. I haven’t told you about them, so listen, don’t talk.”

  Johnny pointed at the Maine coast. “That red pin is Portland.”

  Sal looked at Johnny. “Do you want a gold star?”

  Nate pushed Johnny. “Pfft, teacher’s pet.”

  Normally, Joe would find this amusing but he wasn’t in that state of mind. He just stuck to his business plan.

  “We have eighteen clubs we’ve played, a couple are seasonal. If we add the three new ones and these clubs our New York friends have recommended, we have twenty-six clubs in eight states. I have no clue if Jada or Sheila’s clubs are good, but I plan on finding out.”

  “Who’s Sheila?” Sal asked.

  “She’s the booking agent friend of Tommy’s who got us The Belmont and a new place in Queens. She gave me leads on three clubs upstate and she’s looking for more.”

  “How many bars do we need? Sal asked.

  Joe clammed up and stared at Sal. He then glanced at Tony. He didn’t want to slap Sal verbally but the words were right there… ready to be said. Joe looked at Pops again.

  “How about you close your trap and listen,” Pops did Joe’s slapping for him.

  “I’m trying to build something. I don’t know exactly what it will be but we already have eighteen clubs in six states and twenty-two record shops. It’s about to get bigger and I think this is going to be useful someday, like a network.”

  “Why the map?”

  “I thought you might need a visual aid. After we do some tune-up gigs around town, if all goes well, I’ll book a tour of our old clubs and these few new ones. Around twenty shows.”

  “Twenty shows in one tour? We’ve never done anything close to that.” Sal was skeptical. “We did five nights in a row once, and a couple of five gig weeks.”

  “Will you let the kid talk?” Pops glared at Sal.

  Nate raised his hand. “We’re gonna spend a month in motels?”

  “No. It’s not twenty shows at once. I’m breaking it up in legs with time off in between. But yes, we’ll be using motels in every city.

  “That’s gonna cost us,” Nate said lowly.

  “Yes, that’s why I’m negotiating with club owners for a higher gig rate.”

  Sal scoffed: “They’re gonna love that?”

  “We fill their joints every night. Some rooms aren’t paying us enough. That’s gonna change.”

  “Have you talked to any of them?” Johnny asked.

  “So far, seven clubs. I’m not asking for much. The smaller bars will have to raise their cover charge by one dollar to increase our take. It'll cost them nothing. Every club manager was happy to hear from us. We haven’t played most venues in months.”

  “We were getting calls every week but it stopped,” Sal noted.

  “That’s because I was calling them. Long before we made this deal to play again.”

  Nate raised his hand again: “Do you remember we talked about a raise?”

  “I do, that’s one reason I want more money.”

  “You mean we get raises?” Sal smiled.

  “Nate asked me before New York if we could raise our pay from sixty to eighty per show. It wasn’t a good idea at the time because we didn’t know if we’d find work there.”

  Sal nodded. “We played a lot of gigs.”

  “True, we made decent money on twenty-one shows but then we took two months off.”

  Nate was impatient. “Get to the point. Are we getting raises?”

  “Yes, Eighty bucks per show. We’ll take $320 off the top and the balance gets banked.”

  “We could do better than eighty at the bigger clubs,” Sal noted.

  “Let’s do eighty now and talk later.” Joe went back to the map. “I have routes planned. One starts in Portland and shoots south on I-95 to New York City.” He ran his finger down the coast connecting the pins. “That route includes twelve clubs if we book them all. The other route starts in Boston and goes west on I-90,” He moved his finger east to west. “the Mass Pike and the New York State Thruway. That’s only eight clubs at the moment.” Joe paused. “But, if we hook south we can add the four boroughs and make that twelve dates also.”

  “So the New York clubs are on both routes?” Johnny asked.

  “Yes,” Joe slid sheets of paper to the guys with the clubs and cities listed for each route.

  Nate looked up, “I knew there was gonna be a fucking quiz.”

  Sal shook his head. “All that time in the van and hotel rooms? That’ll be gross.”

  “Maybe,” Joe said. “We’ll have a few days off in New York when we play the four boroughs. That could be a full week in town in one hotel.”

  “Two rooms for a week?” Sal said. “That’s a lot.”

  “I’ll be staying with Tina. If you guys can make one room work, it’ll save.”

  The three single guys shared glances.

  “That’s it,” Joe said. “I haven’t contacted the Jersey and Pennsylvania venues yet. This is what I’ve done so far.”

  Johnny raised his hand. “Sal’s right, long trips in the van will suck. Maybe we should upgrade our ride.”

  “Can you guys stop raising your hands? Just speak.”

  Sal snickered. “I didn't raise my hand.”

  “You didn’t raise it once in high school,” Nate noted. “Why start now?”

  “Our ride is the next thing on the agenda,” Joe said. “Someday soon we're gonna need something bigger with sleeping space and room to stow gear.”

  Sal’s eyes widened. “You mean like a small camper, an RV?” He nodded in approval, “My dad knows a guy.”

  “Of course you do,” Joe said. “We should plan on getting a new ride for 1980.”

  Sal was excited: “Fuck yeah. Pops and I can handle it.”

  “That’s your project,” Joe said. “This is exactly the kind of thing we’ve been saving our money for.”

  “I can’t wait. This will be fun.”

  “Does anyone object to this basic plan?”

  Everyone looked around the table. No hands went up.

  Nate was still thinking about money. “Does this raise start on the next gig?”

  “The RV could wipe out our savings,” Sal noted. “Maybe we should wait on the pay raise.”

  “I have an Auto Trader magazine at home. I’ve been looking at used RVs to get an idea of what they go for. We can afford one.”

  Sal clapped. “All right, I get to shop for a recreational vehicle.”

  Joe walked over the Mister Coffee and poured a second cup, his third of the day. He went back to the table. Pops nodded at Joe, a silent pat on the back. Joe sipped coffee while those guys talked about RVs. He had nothing else to say until his coffee was done.

  “Okay. If we’re gonna play today I’ll need a ride home to get my gear. I bought a new amp. I left my Champ and old Tele at T’s place.”

  “I’ll drive you over,” Sal said.

  “No,” Pops put his hand up. “I’ll take him over there.”

  That gesture told Joe the Godfather had something to say in private. He folded up his map, grabbed his notebook, and walked to the door. Pops was right behind him.