Joe arrived home to find the house empty. He checked all the rooms, took a drink from a carton of orange juice in the fridge, and went down to his room. When he opened the door, he found two missing sisters.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he said.

  Jules lay on his bed with a book. Jeanie sat on the floor with his headphones listening to records.

  “I’m reading.”

  Jeanie pulled the headphones off. “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming home today.”

  “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

  “They took Jackie to a doctor’s appointment,” Jeanie replied.

  “Is she okay?”

  Both girls shrugged. The fact both Mom and Dad accompanied his sister to a doctor’s appointment set off an alarm inside Joe.

  “Why are you hanging out here… in my room?”

  “I dunno,” Jules said. “It’s quiet down here.”

  “Yeah,” Jeanie smiled. “It’s nice and quiet.”

  “The house is empty. It’s quiet everywhere… and if you have headphones, it doesn’t matter.”

  He threw his duffel bag on his bed and began pulling out clothes that needed laundering. It didn’t escape Joe that neither sister made a fuss about him coming home. There were no hugs. He didn’t feel good about it. Jeanie opened his leather backpack.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Joe pulled it away.

  “I’m checking to see if you bought us something?”

  Joe reached into a side pocket and pulled out a map. He handed it to Jules.

  She smiled. “A subway map?”

  “Yeah, it’s the whole New York Transit System. I thought you might like it.”

  “I do.”

  “What did you get me?” Jeanie asked.

  Joe handed her a miniature Statue Of Liberty on a keychain. It fit in the palm of her hand.

  Jeanie smiled, “Thanks. What did you get Jackie?”

  “More of those bangle things she likes.”

  When the rest of the family arrived they were surprised to see Joe. After the greeting, he pulled Jackie aside.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Why did Mom and Dad take you to a doctor?”

  “I had a checkup, that’s all, lady stuff. Dad had to go to the DMV.” Jackie stared at Joe. “We have one car. We always combine errands. You know that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Were you worried about me?” Jackie smirked.

  “Yeah. A little. That’s why I asked.”

  “You always worry about us.” She leaned against him as she often did.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Joe did worry about his sisters and now that was home less often he felt he was no longer watching over them as he had for years. Ever since Janie’s death, Joe had been a vigilant brother, keeping his sisters safe and cared for. He didn’t like not knowing their day-to-day lives. He worried.

  It seemed the family had adjusted to his not being around. It didn’t feel like the same house he grew up in because in some ways it wasn’t. Joe couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss. He didn’t want to live at home but he missed home. He wanted to move on with his life without losing his old life.

  After dinner, Mom found Joe on the front porch. He was staring at the street where the worst day of his life happened. There was a time when Joe wished Dad would sell this house so he could get away from the scene. Joe looked out at Mom’s Catholic shrine on the front lawn.

  “Mary on the half shell needs paint,” he noted. “She’s looking a little ragged.”

  “Are you volunteering?” Mom sat in her wicker chair

  “I didn’t say that,” he smirked. “Unless you want my black and red Scary Mary.”

  Mom let out a laugh, an involuntary hiccup, and then she tittered on. Joe didn’t know what to do. He stared at his mother laughing at his joke. ‘This is wrong,’ he thought.

  “Why are you laughing at my satanic shit? That usually pisses you off.”

  “And that’s why you say those things,” she stopped laughing. “I think the image of Scary Mary in my front yard hit my funny bone.”

  “I didn’t know you had one, Ma.” He made eye contact. “You got called into Sister Mary Agnes’ office for that shit.”

  “I know,” She nodded. “I was so angry with you and humiliated. She wagged your artwork at me as if I had encouraged you to be…” Mom paused.

  “To be what?”

  “The way you are. We don’t need to discuss it.” She rocked in her chair. Mom had something else on her mind. “Don’t be upset the girls are using your room.”

  “I’m not upset. I guess I’m just surprised they moved in so easily. The body is still warm.”

  “It’s because they miss you. Jackie sits on your bed and reads your magazines. Julie reads your books. Jeanie’s been sleeping in your room. She listens to your records and dozes off. She asked me to never wash your pillowcase because it smells like you. Then Julie did it a couple of times. They hang out in your room because it’s what they have of you when you're gone.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t hard to figure out. It’s fine, as long as my stuff has a place and they take care of it.”

  “They do. It’s their Joey museum.”

  “Whatever. They didn’t seem too excited to see me.”

  “Everyone’s adjusting,” Mom put her hand in his. “Including you.”

  Joe was beginning to trust his mother again. It had been so long since he felt that way. Before Janie’s death, he was her perfect little boy. They’d been through a lot since. So many things were changing, some for the better. Being home felt like being home never felt before.

  —-- CODEPENDENCY —-

  Joe arrived at the garage mid-morning after he helped Mom get the girls off to school. Sal and Pops were in the kitchen and Nate was lying on the couch.

  “Hey, look what the cat dragged in,” Pops said. “I just made a fresh pot. You want a cup?”

  “Sure,” Joe said. “Where’s Johnny?”

  “He’s at his girlfriend’s house,” Sal said.

  “Johnny has a girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. I guess he’s known her for a while. They hooked up a while back.”

  “So what’s the deal on the next road trip?” Nate asked.

  “We’re playing The Living Room Thursday,” Joe said as Pop’s handed him a Red Sox mug of black coffee. Joe was thinking about Johnny’s girlfriend.

  “Where do we go after that?”

  “Boston, Worcester, Springfield, and the new clubs in upstate New York.”

  “Are we going to the city?”

  “Yes. We’ll play the four boroughs last.” Joe was distracted by a mystery character that just entered his life… Johnny’s girlfriend.

  “How many nights are we playing?”

  “We have twelve gigs over sixteen days. That includes three weekends.”

  “Cool.”

  “So,” Pops stood beside Joe. “How did the 95 plan work out?”

  “I was good,” Joe said, still distracted by his thoughts.

  “We’re gonna have to get to work on getting an RV,” Sal said. “Being away for that long the van doesn’t cut it.”

  “I’ll call my guy on route 44,” Pops said. “He has lots of used RVs, big and small. Reggie’s had tour buses on his lot.”

  “We don’t need that,” Joe said abruptly. “Not yet.” He couldn’t shake what troubled him. “So what’s the deal with Johnny’s girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know,” Sal said. “They go to the clinic together.”

  Joe felt his chest tighten. He eased his way down to take a seat on the sofa. He stared at Sal in disbelief. After an audible breath, he spoke softly to not reveal what he was feeling inside. “You’re telling me that Johnny has a junkie girlfriend and you don’t see a problem with that?”

  Sal didn’t see a problem. “I think him having a girlfriend is a good thing.”

  “Not a fucking drug addict!” Joe popped up off the sofa, suddenly animated. “Jesus Christ, Sal. Do you know what codependency is?”

  “No.”

  He talked fast, pacing the parlor, in a manic moment. “She increases the chances of Johnny failing. What if she decides to get high? Now we have to worry about her recovery because if she relapses Johnny goes down too. I cannot believe you guys couldn’t put your heads together and figure that out. What’s her name?”

  They both shrugged.

  “So you haven’t met her? “ Joe’s arms went up. “That’s fucking perfect.”

  “What’s codependency?” Nate asked.

  Joe paced, then stopped, looking down at Nate on the porn sofa. “I went to the library and read more than I should on addiction and recovery. I just needed to learn some shit. When I read about codependency it was like they were describing that creepy couple in 1B. Addicts feed off each other.”

  Sal defended Johnny. “He’s keeping his doctor’s appointments and going to the clinic.”

  “Is it a methadone clinic?”

  “Yes, ” Nate answered. “I think Johnny was on that at the very beginning.”

  “What’s her drug? Was she a heroin addict too?”

  Sal became annoyed. “How the hell do we know? What’s your problem?”

  “I filled my head with too much information and now I know what to look for. That girlfriend is gonna be a problem. Where does she live?”

  “South Providence,” Nate said.

  “Of course,” Joe raised his arms again. “Where else would a junkie live?”

  Sal and Nate insisted Joe was overreacting while he silently paced the garage. They claimed Johnny had been seeing his mystery addict girlfriend since he went back to the clinic with no sign of trouble.

  “We just did a road trip,” Joe interrupted Sal. “Not once did Johnny or you mention this girlfriend. That’s fucked up, right?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you know she’s a problem so you didn’t tell me.”

  “I never met her,” Sal said. “How can I know she’s a problem?”

  “The fact Johnny never once mentioned he has a girl sets off alarms for me,” Joe stopped pacing, exhaled slowly, and sat back down. “I’m sorry.” Maybe he was being paranoid. He sat, quietly looking straight ahead. “I need to meet this girlfriend. I have to see her.”

  “Why?” Sal asked. “What business is it of yours?”

  “I wanna see if we have our own Sid and Nancy.”

  Joe would not meet Johnny’s girlfriend. He found it strange that none of the guys mentioned this woman during the last road trip. They busted Joe’s balls about him calling Tina every day but never mentioned that Johnny had a girl back home. Joe was certain they all knew she was a problem and chose to hide it from him.

  —-- THE TURNPIKE TOUR —-

  The Route 90 run started in Boston where Joe would see Kelly for the first time in many months. She walked up to him near the bar as the band acquired beers for the stage.

  “I can’t believe I missed your show here last month. I just spaced out.” She put her arms around Joe’s neck and kissed him. “I really missed you. I heard you spent the whole summer in New York.” Joe kissed back but it was a courtesy kiss not wishing to embarrass her with a rejected advance. He realized he missed Kelly as her fragrance and softness caressed his senses and this might be harder than he thought it would be. He could feel Nate’s and Sal’s eyes on him as they delighted in Joe’s new version of girl trouble.

  “Yes, we had a crazy summer.”

  Kelly leaned against Joe, her hand going under his leather, rubbing his belly. She leaned in and whispered. “I also heard the band broke up and then I heard you played here. What happened?”

  “It’s too long a story to tell you right before I get on stage,” Joe stepped away. “But after the show if you wanna hang out…” Joe smiled. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Okay,” Kelly smiled, pushing a brunette wave of hair from her face. “It’s a deal.”

  As Joe walked to the stage he looked back at Kelly Marsh, a classmate who never spoke to him in high school, then fucked him hard at her parent’s beach house during her summer before college. Then Kelly invited him and the band back to BU for a night of Warren Towers dormitory debauchery. She was tall, leggy, and gorgeous. Joe adored her full dark hair. Best of all, Kelly was fun. They joked about Providence as if they were outsiders and made fun of the Italians. She went to his graduation bash.

  He exhaled. ‘Why does it feel like breaking up when it’s not?’

  Joe debuted a new T-shirt that night. After Sharon, one of Kelly’s BU girls ripped his yellow B-52s shirt off his back, he walked side-stage, reached into his back of tricks, and put on a red shirt with his back to the people. He then turned to the crowd and the band. In large white letters with blue shadowing read, ROCKET SHIP.

  No one in The Brickyard would know the joke except his bandmates. Sal’s eyes bugged a little, then he met Joe’s eyes. He didn’t like the new shirt. Nate shook his head in disbelief. Johnny nodded and smiled at Joe. He liked it.

  After the show, Joe didn’t join the band at the bar. He sat on the front edge of the stage talking to college kids, soaking up their compliments like a needy sponge. Attention was his drug and the fans of his band liked to dish it out. He knew Kelly would make her way over and she did.

  “So what’s the plan?” She bent forward to kiss him. Joe kissed her back vowing to himself that would be the last kiss. “Are we going for a bite or straight to my dorm?”

  “I can’t crash at your dorm tonight,” Joe patted the stage for her to sit beside him. Kelly joined him. “I had a great summer in New York for a lot of reasons and one of those reasons is a girl I met.”

  “Oh,” Kelly said, “I see. So you’re like… in a relationship?”

  “Yes, and I’m with her and only her. That’s what I want.”

  Kelly smiled, “Good for you, Joe. What’s her name?”

  “Tina.”

  “Does she have a last name?”

  “Costello.”

  “Christina Costello?” Kelly scrunched her nose. “Did you hook up with an Italian chick?”

  Joe blushed, “Yeah, I did.”

  Kelly laughed, “You left Providence to find an Italian chick in New York? You once told me you can’t date Italian girls because of all the big hair and nails and they’re so precious, and fucking disco.”

  “Tina is none of that. She’s a cool, bohemian NYU art student who loves punk rock… and me.”

  “How about we go out for breakfast and pie,” Kelly patted his hand. “And you can tell me all about New York.”

  Joe looked over at his bandmates. “They look like they’re heading back with your girls.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll tell them we’re doing our own thing.”

  Joe watched Kelly walk off, admiring her perfect bottom squeezed into tight jeans. When she returned she took Joe by the arm. They walked to the Greenline subway and points west, near BU. They talked the whole way, on the walk, on the train, and in The Commonwealth Diner. Joe delivered his New York story in pieces.

  Kelly smiled at the end. “I was looking forward to hanging out with you tonight.” she leaned in and placed her hands on Joe’s hand. “I bought some lube and got myself all ready for you… down there.” She smiled. “But I promise I won’t try anything or pressure you. I’m happy for you.”

  “Then what the hell was that?” he said with a WTF expression. “Why would you tell me that?”

  Kelly smiled devilishly. “I just wanted you to know how hard it is for me to be a good girl. I had so many naughty thoughts about tonight.”

  “I’ll make a note of it,” Joe sipped his coffee, thinking. ‘This is gonna be a lot harder than I thought.’

  In Worcester the following night, the crowd at Barney’s was raucous, happy The Young Punks were back again. Monica jumped on Joe’s bones, gave him a big kiss on the lips, and then went back to her boyfriend, the same big dude she was with at his graduation party.

  It was after Barney’s gig that Joe noted a new behavior of Johnny’s. He had always slipped out back doors and onto patios for a smoke. That’s what smokers do. They congregate and smoke. He began wandering off with his cigarette, just walking and smoking alone. At Barney’s, he was gone for a long time on a cold night with a light rain. Who walks in that weather?

  Joe thought back to the nights they played down I-95. Johnny did several times, just walked away to smoke alone. Now Joe was watching for it, in Springfield, Troy, Albany, and Syracuse.

  Every time Johnny wandered off Joe noted the time and the time he returned. Then he watched Johnny closely, looking for signs. He hated himself for being paranoid. He felt like a narc. After their debut gig in a Syracuse Orange bar, Joe phoned Tina the following morning.

  “We’re grabbing breakfast shortly and then we’ll be on the road. I’ll be home when you get out of class.”

  “I can’t wait to see you. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.”

  “How’s Johnny doing?”

  Joe exhaled. “I think he’s getting high.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Johnny’s always been a chill dude but not a loner. That’s what he is now, withdrawn, he wanders off alone for long stretches. I think he’s getting high.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “Last night he was smoking a joint alone. When Nate reached out, thinking Johnny would pass it to him, Johnny looked at him blankly and walked away. I looked at Nate. He shrugged and called Johnny a Bogart. I don’t think that’s why he….”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “I think the joint is laced with heroin. The punks at Tommy’s taught me the tricks… how functional junkies get high. They use cigarettes or weed to deliver a quick fix. Johnny hates the cold more than me. A few shows back he walked off for 23 minutes in a poorly lit factory complex in near-freezing temps at 11 PM. Why would he do that?”

  “You timed him?”

  “I noticed the time. This is not normal Johnny behavior. Last week he took a stroll in a cold rain. It’s hard to not notice shit like that.”

  “Is he playing okay?”

  “He’s been fine but not great. He waits until set break or after the gig to get high. Johnny knows I’m listening closely. I know when he fucks off on guitar.”

  “Does Sal see anything?”

  “As long as Johnny shows up Sal doesn’t give a fuck. I can’t mention this to Sal unless I know for certain he’s getting high. I’m worried about them staying at The Chelsea. Sal won’t keep an eye on Johnny.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I can’t babysit Johnny H. I can’t do that again. I want to enjoy my time with you, not obsess over the band.”

  “I appreciate that and I have ways of keeping your mind off your troubles.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  —- TINA VS JADA —

  The band had a night off in NYC before a show at Tommy Guns. As they were setting up before the show, Joe asked Nate what the guys did on their off time. Nate said they all did their own thing.

  “You know I love Sal but sometimes I need a day off from his bullshit.”

  “I’m aware of that need. What did Johnny do?”

  “I barely saw him.”

  Tommy’s was the first gig of this trip where Joe was 100% certain Johnny was fucked up. He played sloppy and took shortcuts, just like last summer. Because Johnny never performed with flair, as if he was too cool for stage moves, it was hard to judge body language. Johnny was low-key sober and low-key stoned. Joe had to watch for the swaying and unsteady feet but mostly he listened to his guitar parts. Joe heard the missing notes and muted strings most people would never notice.

  He tried to not obsess over that problem because Joe had other issues to contend with that evening. A moment he long dreaded had arrived. Every time Tina attended a show at Tommy’s Joe knew there could be drama. He knew it was coming. It was inevitable.

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  One minute after he and Tina walked into the club, Jada Jones blew right past Tina and put lips on her man. Joe saw Jada coming but was still taken by surprise. Jada’s lips landed on his. He didn’t kiss her back but there was enough contact of flesh to make Tina wonder. Jada had her arms around his neck, looking up at him, her long, black, shining mohawk falling down her back.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said loudly.

  Joe glanced at T who was visibly annoyed. He put his hands on Jada’s shoulders and turned her sideways. “Jada, this is my girlfriend Tina. Tina, this is Jada Jones.”

  “I know who she is,” Jada said, not looking at Tina. She grabbed Joe’s hand and pulled him. “C’mon. You have to meet someone.”

  “No,” Joe held his ground, refusing to be pulled away by firmly planting his feet. Jada was tugged back by his unmovable stance. “I have work to do. Maybe later.”

  “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “No!” Joe pulled his hand from her grip.

  Jada stood in silence for a moment, finally glanced at Tina, giving her the up and down look, then walked away in a huff.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said to T.

  “Did you just kiss her?”

  “No, I did not.”

  Between sets, the band retired to the backroom at Tommy’s. There was a storage room behind the stage near the restrooms. Tommy kept cases of beer in there as well as cleaning supplies. The band sat on the cases, going over changes Joe wanted to make for the second set. Tina was there when Jada walked in and sat herself on Joe’s lap. Tina’s face instantly turned pink.

  “So,” Jada’s arms went around his neck. “What surprises do you have for us?”

  “Look,” Joe said, peeling her hands off his neck. “I know what you’re doing. Just stop.” He stood up denying her his lap but kept her from falling by holding her up. She used that as an opportunity to hold Joe close. Jada whispered in his ear, “Her? Really? You can’t be serious.”

  “Yes,” he moved Jada away with a stiff arm and spoke clearly. “I’m serious!”

  Jada looked up. Joe’s tone and expression left no doubt. She then backed off to the opposite side of the small room. Sal and Nate observed. Johnny had walked out the back door when Jada interrupted the band meeting.

  When Joe sat back down Tina went to him, sat on his lap, and planted a long, hard kiss on his lips. This time, Joe kissed back. When she released him from her lip lock, Tina glanced at Jada with no expression… then she smiled ever so slightly. Jada left the room.

  Sal clapped once. “Please tell me you’re gonna pick Tina vs Jada for the dance contest,” he said. “We could have our first catfight on stage!”

  Nate laughed while raising his hand, “I second the motion.”

  “I’d kick her ass,” Tina said sharply.

  Three sets of eyes bugged out as the band shared glances, swallowing their laughs.

  Sal nodded, “Sure you would.”

  There was no catfight but Jada and Tina exchanged death stares all night. Then Jada made a third move on Joe as he and Tina were saying their goodbyes, leaning in close and grabbing his crotch, “She won’t last long.”

  Tina wasted no time in venting as they walked alone to the subway with a light snow falling.

  “What the hell is wrong with her?”

  “That’s just how Jada is. She’s provocative.”

  “Oh, and that's okay? She can just do what the fuck she wants… because she’s provocative.”

  “I didn’t say it was okay.”

  “I can’t believe how blatantly disrespectful she was. What a bitch!”

  Tina carried on, telling Joe how humiliating it was, then infuriating, and how many people witnessed her molesting him… and how he didn’t seem so upset about it. She went on for most of two blocks.

  “I’m not upset because I’m not surprised. I’ve been dreading this moment. I knew when Jada met you she would try to get under your skin. It is what Jada does. Some women hate her. You fell into her trap.”

  “I didn’t fall into anything,” Tina looked up at him. “What trap?”

  “She accomplished precisely what she set out to do. She pissed you off and now you're barking at me about it.” Joe stopped walking and held Tina back with his arm. “Did I do anything wrong tonight?”

  Tina looked up, thinking. “I guess not.”

  “I did not kiss her. She caught me by surprise. When she sat on my lap. I stood up and moved her away.”

  “I know you did.”

  Joe took Tina by the hand and resumed walking. “When Simon called on volunteers for breakfast I waited for Jada to commit and then said you and I were going home. I wasn’t going to make you sit in a diner with her.”

  “Okay, I get it.”

  “Then don’t take this shit out on me. You just met Jada Jones and walked away angry and embarrassed. Jada won. That’s precisely what she wanted.”

  “Why would she want that?”

  Joe exhaled as they waited on the curb for a traffic signal. “She’s like a black hole sucking in all the attention in the room. Jada craves the attention of men. I think she has daddy issues. Women hate her and she embraces the bad girl image. In the back room she whispered to me, ‘Her? Really? You can’t be serious.’ Then, as we left, she said you won’t last long.”

  “She’s trying to break us up?”

  “I don’t know. She’s trying to create chaos as if that somehow benefits her. She’s a strange chick… like your friend Tracy.”

  As they approached the subway station, Joe hoped the Jada talk was done. He tried to change the subject.

  “I’m so glad it’s snow and not rain.” He put his palm out to catch flakes.

  “I thought you hated the cold.”

  “I do, but once there’s precipitation I’d rather it be just below freezing.” He held Tina’s hand as they entered the stairwell to 50th St Station to catch the A-Line. “There’s nothing worse than a freezing rain. I’ll take light snow any day.”

  “It’s prettier.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “And what’s up with Jada’s hair? It’s ridiculous. That whole tough chick persona is fake.”

  Joe didn’t comment on Jada’s long, luxurious mohawk, because he thought she was hot with that hard punk look. Normally, he didn’t dig the tough punk chicks but he had seen Jada’s softer side. He couldn’t tell T that he was an admirer of Jada Jones.

  Tina couldn’t let it go. She rambled on the subway ride, making fun of Jada’s ‘costume’. Joe made no comments. Finally, when she realized she was hungry, Tina dropped it. Before Joe let it rest he had one thing to say as he opened the door to the Skyline Diner.

  “She won this round because you let her get to you. Next time you can’t give her the satisfaction. You must be tougher than she is, in her face if necessary.”

  After they ordered coffee, breakfast, and pie, Tina stirred her coffee and smiled at Joe. “You’re a black hole too.”

  Joe looked back with no reply.

  “You suck all the attention out of the room too.”

  “When I’m on stage.”

  “No,” Tina sipped her coffee. “The moment you walk into a room it changes. I’ve seen it, Joe. When you walked into Tommy’s tonight it was like Elvis was in the building.”

  “Pfft, whatever.” He waved a dismissive hand.

  Tina smiled, “You love it. Don’t give me this fake modesty bullshit.”

  “I have lots of friends.”

  “Yes, you do.” Tina put her hand on his. “You and Jada are both black holes but there’s one big difference.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Men don’t hate you.”

  Joe nodded.

  Tina smirked behind her coffee mug. “And Jada is a dirty, skanky, gaping black hole a lot of men have fallen into.”

  Joe laughed, “You’re a nasty jealous girlfriend. You don’t even try to hide it.”

  Tina made kissy lips at him.

  —-- CHECKING IN —--

  Joe called home from 3C when Tina and Lana were in school. He asked Jackie questions about the girl's clothes sizes and what her thoughts were on what he might get them for Christmas.

  “How’s Tina,” Jackie changed the subject. “Is she happy or does she complain about the road when you’re there too?”

  “She’s happy. T doesn’t waste her time with me bitching…” He paused. “Well, except for one thing.”

  Joe told her the whole story of Tina vs Jada Round One. He made Jackie laugh which made him happy. Then she did what Jackie does, analyzed his situation.

  “So you have a nasty jealous girlfriend who’s unhappy about the girls around you and cries on the phone when you’re away and she’s whiny and needy?”

  “Shut the fuck up, sis.”

  Jackie laughed. “How’s the band?”

  Joe went quiet.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, sis. It is. Don’t tell anyone this but Johnny H is back. He’s getting high again. Sal is still the monkey astronaut that sees no evil and hears no evil.”

  “Johnny’s playing the gigs, right?”

  Joe sighed. “I stay with T. The guys have a room at the Chelsea Hotel. Sal drives Johnny crazy. The last place Johnny wants to hang out is in a hotel room with Sal. He takes off on his own for the entire day and shows up just in time to make the gigs.”

  “And he’s high?”

  “He was sneaking off to get high on the road. In this city he can get high all day. He was fucked up at Tommy’s and in our show Brooklyn. He played good enough for the punks but I know he’s playing like shit and so do others, our friends who know us best.”

  “I’m sorry, brother. Is this the end?”

  “I think so. We have two days off. I have no idea what condition Johnny will be in when I see him next. I’m bracing myself for the worst.”

  Two hours before they had to leave for Queens, Joe heard from Sal that Johnny was AWOL. He almost screamed at Sal over the phone but he kept his cool.

  “Does he know that we have a gig tonight and it’s a long drive?”

  “He knows, Joe. We have time.”

  Without a minute to spare in front of Tina’s building Joe loaded his very heavy Fender Twin amp into the van and climbed into the passenger seat. Tina couldn’t make this show in Queens. Joe made eyes at Sal, then Nate, and then looked way in the back at Johnny.

  “How are you feeling, Johnny? You don’t look great.”

  “Just tired.”

  The band’s second show at The Metropolitan was not good. Joe heard every sloppy bit Johnny played and noticed how unsteady he was on his feet. Joe felt he was getting close to the point when he could confront Sal but that would have to wait. First, Joe had to fend off Tracy St. Jean, Tina’s high school rival who was emboldened by Tina not being at the show. She put the moves on Joe. He was ass grabbed and had hands roaming below the equator… so he backed away and tried to avoid her. She just kept coming. There was no doubt some of Tina’s other friends noticed Tracy’s aggressive moves. It was not a good night. He was preoccupied with Johnny H and Tracy was an annoying distraction.

  —-- SOUTH BRONX —-

  Joe felt he had to say something to Sal, just to see if Sal and Nate were seeing what he was witnessing. He went to The Chelsea to check on the band the following afternoon. Johnny was missing. That was enough to set Joe off.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Sal. Are you blind? How can you let him go off on his own for two days without knowing what he’s doing?”

  “I’m not his boss… and neither are you.”

  “Johnny was fucked up last night. If you took a minute to pay attention you’d know he’s been shaky most of this trip. He slips away every day. What do you suppose he’s doing on these… walks?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s clearing his head just going for a walk. Why do you assume the worst?”

  “Because it’s out of character and he’s clearly not right. Now he’s fucking off for days at a time.”

  “He’s playing fine.”

  “Before we got here I might have agreed. He’s been good enough but he’s playing like garbage since we got to the city.” He glanced at Nate, and then back at Sal. “It’s obvious… but not obvious enough for you to hear his shit guitar.”

  Sal put his finger in Joe’s face. “Fuck off, Joe. What are you, a goddamn narc?”

  Joe glanced over at Nate hoping for some help. He sensed that Nate was seeing and hearing the truth but apparently not enough to speak up.

  “He hasn't blown a gig,” Sal said. “Yes, he gets high, but grass keeps him level. He’s just comfortably numb and he’s doing the job. Stop being a headcase.”

  “Do you honestly believe that’s pot he’s smoking?” Joe turned to Nate. “Or did he not want to pass you an A-bomb back in Syracuse?”

  “What’s an A-bomb?”

  “A joint packed with a little heroin.”

  “What the fuck? Sal said. “You are a narc.”

  “No, I’m not. We have friends at Tommy’s with histories of addiction. They school me. They care about Johnny more than you.” Joe turned to Nate. “Your cousin Jeremy is an encyclopedia of addiction.”

  Nate nodded. “Jeremy was in the gutter, years ago.”

  Nate and Sal just stared at Joe. He was disappointed that Sal had fallen back into his role as clueless enabler so easily. They were two dozen gigs into this bullshit compromise and nothing had changed.

  “Can you do me a favor?” Joe said, lowering his tone. “We have one gig left. Can you at least keep Johnny close for one fucking day? Is that asking too much?”

  “I’ll do that,” Sal said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  The band had that day off before wrapping up at The Belmont Cafe in The Bronx. After that date would be a long break through Christmas. Joe booked nothing during the holiday week but had a short road trip planned for after the New Year. He was having doubts Johnny would be there. He expressed his worries to Tina.

  “I don’t think Simon is ready to get on stage. If Johnny fucks off again we’re screwed.”

  “You’re assuming the worst,” Tina said. “Stop that.”

  “You sound like Sal. I’m sorry but everything I know, everything I feel, and what I’m seeing points to Johnny falling off the wagon.” His arms went up. “What am I even saying? He’s already getting high.”

  “I understand your concern. You have to stop nitpicking. You have to give Johnny a chance. You can’t go back on your word.”

  “First of all,” Joe said, “I wanted Johnny to come back after he was clean. That never happened because Sal broke his promise. Secondly, I am giving him a chance and he’s fucking it up. Bats would have gotten his son into rehab.”

  “Why does it matter how he does it?”

  Tina not seeing his concern as valid was getting under Joe’s skin. He felt himself about to lose his cool. He quietly took a deep breath. Tina looked at him expecting him to continue. He was done discussing his band with her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just waiting for the inevitable that no one else sees coming. I’ll be shocked if we make it through the January road trip. I can’t do a damn thing to stop the trainwreck.”

  “I think the Christmas break will do you good.”

  ******

  At The Belmont Cafe gig, it didn’t take long for Joe to realize Sal did not keep Johnny close on the final day. Johnny was wasted. As the band set up Joe kept to himself not caring to have words with Sal. Nate pulled him aside.

  “Johnny was gone all day. He’s fucked up.”

  Joe stared at Nate blankly, “No shit? You finally noticed?””

  “I know, Joe, I’m sorry.” Nate lowered his voice. “Don’t think Sal doesn’t know. He’s trying to keep the band together. He wants to get Johnny back home. I think he’s gonna speak to John Senior.”

  “Did Sal say that?”

  “Not directly but I think he knows that’s the only way to save Johnny from himself.”

  Joe did what he always does when things get rough. When Johnny played like shit he kept the attention on himself and away from his wasted lead guitarist. After the show, as they finished loading the van, Johnny said he wasn’t riding back with the band.

  “I’ll catch you guys in the morning,” he said. “What time are we leaving?”

  “Around noon,” Sal said, “maybe a little later.”

  “Okay.” Johnny walked off.

  Joe stared at Sal in disbelief. “Is that how fucking easy it is to give you the slip?”

  “We’re done with gigs. Who cares?”

  “Who cares? Are you serious?” Joe maintained his glare. “Ya know, I think I’ll take the subway back too.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “I’m sick of you fuckers not caring.”

  Joe walked off in the same direction Johnny had gone. The moment he turned the corner he broke into a jog to catch up with him, but not entirely. He wanted to know where he was going and if he had reconnected with Dougie the druggie from 1B.

  Snow began to fall, heavy, wet, snow. Joe pulled his collar up and pushed his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. Johnny seemed to know where he was going as he zig-zagged to Fordham Road Station where he boarded the B train south. Joe used an adjacent car and watched him through the doors between carriages. He kept track of each station they passed. ‘Where the hell is he going?’ Johnny took Joe to the South Bronx. ‘Fuck! This is a shithole.’

  Johnny stumbled off the train at 167th Street. Joe maintained a safe distance. He turned north on Gerard Avenue and east on 169th. There was a police station on that corner. In the middle of the block Johnny stopped in front of a building and looked back towards Joe who was in the shadows between street lights. He then entered a doorway under a stoop, a basement apartment.

  Joe walked up to the building and located the address number. As he walked back he stopped at the police station, the 44th precinct. That’s when Joe realized he was on Jerome Ave, the dilapidated neighborhood they passed through on their very first night in NYC when Sal pissed on Yankee Stadium. He had come full circle. For a moment he considered walking inside to report drug dealers in the shadow of the precinct but he didn’t want Johnny to get swept up in an NYPD drug raid.

  The following day Joe phoned The Chelsea Hotel to see if Johnny was getting in the van for the ride home. Sal told him Johnny had made it back. Joe insisted Sal inform John Senior of his son’s relapse.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Sal said, “I don’t know. He looks good today. Let’s see how it goes after the holidays.”

  —- BUCCI REAL ESTATE —-

  On the morning of Christmas Eve, a cold and hazy winter day, Joe walked into the office of Bucci Real Estate. The girl at the front desk smiled. “Hi, Joe. What are you doing here? Merry Christmas.”

  ‘Fuck’, Joe thought to himself. He didn’t want anyone to know he was visiting John Bucci Senior. And now, a woman he’d seen at their downtown shows had made him.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said, but didn’t know her name. “Is Mr. Bucci in?”

  “Yes, let me see if he’s available.” She walked off.

  Joe looked at photos on the wall, houses and commercial properties owned by John Senior and Tony Meats, partners in many real estate adventures. When the receptionist returned, she smiled.

  “He’ll be right with you.” She sat at her desk. “So, how do you like New York? It must have been great for you to stay the whole summer.” She smiled again. “I heard you have a girlfriend there.”

  “Yeah. It was an eye-opening trip. And yes, she’s amazing.”

  “Good for you.”

  John Senior walked in with a smile and his hand extended. “Hey, kid. Welcome home. I hear you have a cutie in New York.”

  Joe shook his hand. “Yeah.”

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “Can we talk in private?”

  “C’mon in,” Johnny Bats waved Joe into a hall that led to his office. The moment Joe took a seat and John was seated behind his desk, Joe started.

  “I’m here about Johnny.”

  “What about him?”

  “You have to promise me you’ll never tell Sal that I came to you.”

  “What’s going on, kid?”

  “Can you assure me this is between you and me?”

  “You have my word.”

  Joe sighed, “I don’t know where to start so I’ll just come out and say it. Last summer in New York Johnny hooked up with some druggies. He was fucked up on heroin for weeks. I wanted Sal to contact you when they got back but there’s been a struggle inside the band. Sal thinks Johnny can manage his problem at this clinic on Eddy Street. I don’t agree.”

  John Bucci stared at Joe, expressionless. He didn’t speak for several seconds.

  “Yeah, I knew something was up. He was sick when he first got back. I wasn’t sure but I had suspicions, and then he was fine.”

  “Well, I made it clear I won’t go on the road with him until he’s cleaned up. He’s been going to this clinic but I’m not convinced it’s enough. Eventually, after weeks of bullshit, Pops called me in. The band came to a compromise to give him a second chance but it hasn’t worked out. Johnny’s using again.” Joe focused on Senior’s eyes. “There is no doubt.”

  “When he got home last week he seemed okay but I haven’t seen much of him. I guess he has a girlfriend.”

  “Have you met her?”

  “No.”

  “She’s from the clinic so I’m guessing she’s an addict too. That’s not someone you want Johnny hanging around with.”

  John nodded. He was a man of few words, like his son.

  “This band lifestyle is not good for Johnny. First of all, it takes him away from his support group. The worst thing is the idle time we have, all day long, and days off. That’s when he slips away to get high.”

  “I have to tell ya, kid. When he quit school and joined your band I wasn’t upset. He was fucked up at URI. I thought coming home would be good for him. What made me hopeful was the fact he was doing something he loved. I thought that might help.”

  Joe noticed a framed photo of Johnny, aged twelve maybe, with a crew cut. “I had no clue Johnny had a drug problem. Sal told me to keep dealers away from him. That was the first clue I had. Then it went to hell in New York and I’ve seen the worst of Johnny.”

  “No, you haven’t,” John said flatly. “This has been a ten-year struggle. We’ve been through…”

  “Ten years? I thought it started in high school.”

  “That was his first hospitalization. Johnny started at thirteen, in middle school.”

  Joe looked back at crew-cut Johnny thinking, ‘that’s the last time he wasn’t high.’

  John Senior sighed. “It was beer and pot and then pills. The pills dragged him down to rock bottom. He’s been hospitalized three times. He’s been going to the clinic for years when he needs it.”

  “I didn’t know how bad it was until we…”

  “Nobody knew how bad it was because we kept it that way.” John exhaled. “That’s on me. I didn’t want the whole fucking town to know my kid was an addict. I was…” John paused. He looked down. “I was protecting my name.”

  “We never should have taken him to New York.”

  “Look kid, this band is the best thing that’s happened to my son in years. He didn’t fit in at URI. His heart wasn’t in it. But this band brought him back to life. None of this is your fault. It was just a matter of time before he relapsed.”

  “How do you deal with that, knowing he’s a ticking time bomb?”

  “After so many years and all the episodes we’ve learned to live with it and manage him as best we can. His mother and sister struggle terribly with this. You know women, always worrying. I try to keep things calm. What I’ve learned from this is you can’t help someone until they want help.”

  “What am I supposed to do? I’m seriously considering walking away from this band, moving to New York and starting over.”

  John exhaled in a big way. “I hope that doesn’t happen. What else would Johnny have? What the hell would Sal do? Seriously.” His gaze focused on Joe’s eyes. “What the fuck would those two do with their lives?”

  Joe had no answer for that. He felt like John Bucci was putting it on him to save Johnny and Sal… from what, their own failure?

  “Do me a favor, kid. Don’t make any rash decisions. Just go about your band business. Play your shows and keep things normal while I look into some options. I need to see my son, get a sense of how bad he is, and take it from there.”

  Joe nodded. “So you want me to do nothing. Can I ask a favor?”

  “Sure, what do you need?”

  “Your receptionist, what’s her name?”

  “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re not gonna fuck around on your cutie in New York, are ya?”

  “No. She knows me. I don’t want her telling anyone I was here. Sal will think I’m a rat.”

  “Oh, okay.” John smiled. “Terry is quite the hottie. I thought maybe…”

  “No. I just need her to keep her mouth shut.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll do whatever I say.” John nodded with a slight smile, “You’re a good kid. I appreciate you coming here. You care about my son. Just for the record, you’re not a rat if you’re trying to help your friends. Rats fuck their friends.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Bucci.”

  “Call me John.”

  Joe walked the ten city blocks from Bucci Real Estate on Dean Street to his house. A soft snow had been falling much of the hazy winter day. A few inches had accumulated. The wind blew the light fluffy flakes, white dust swirled around him. On Atwells Avenue the shops were doing good business. The bakeries, the delis, and Venda Ravioli were packed with holiday shoppers. Restaurants were busy in the middle of the day. Joe popped into Venda, his favorite Italian grocer on The Hill.

  While waiting in line with a loaf of bread, Venda’s freshly made ravioli, sauce, and some soft Fontina cheese; Joe decided to unplug from his band drama. He did what he believed was right and now it was out of his hands.

  It troubled him that John Bucci seemed to be putting it on him to keep it together for the sake of Johnny. Joe cared deeply for Johnny but he couldn’t help but feel a brewing resentment that people in Providence were expecting him to carry the load. He felt he’d been carrying this weight long enough.

  Back on the street he pulled his collar up jammed his free hand in his pocket and braced against the wind. A bell-ringing Santa waved, standing in front of a Salvation Army kettle.

  “Merry Christmas!”

  Joe had a dollar and loose change in his hand from the grocer. He dropped it in the kettle.

  “Thank you, son. Merry Christmas.”

  Joe nodded and kept walking, muttering. “I fucking hate winter.”