It was easily twenty degrees warmer away from the waterfront, up in the heart of Cleveland. Every time they went to Cleveland they checked out the Rock Hall, but it was too chilly to linger down near the lake. The guys enjoyed taking public transportation throughout the city so they could people watch, and feel like normal people again. They weren’t hugely popular in Cleveland, as it tended to be more of a hard rock town, but they loved their fans. The Agora ballroom was a great venue, with the bar so easily at hand when the set was finished, it made for a great social atmosphere. “Hey, that place looks good,” Benji said, pointing across the street to a bar.
“That’s a pub,” CJ said.
“Fuck that,” Billy said to her. “You always start shit in pubs.”
“It’s just so easy,” she sighed. “I’m just like, ‘hey, you wanna buy me a drink?’ and he’s like ‘sure,’ and while he’s doing that I ask another guy, ‘hey, you wanna buy me a drink?’ and he’s like ‘sure,’ and when they come back…” she nodded, her grin broadening, “oh, it’s on.”
“God, you suck,” Paul said.
“Is that a ‘no’ on the pub?” Benji asked. Billy and Paul raised their hands and voiced a simultaneous ‘no.’ “Funny how it’s past 2 and I’m still sober,” Benji said.
CJ roped her arm around his as they continued to walk up the sidewalk. “Look, hon,” she said as she pulled a bottle of JD out of her satchel. “I was saving this for a rainy day, but since you’re so hard pressed…” They both knew that whiskey was one of her weak spots, just one of those things she could never turn down, and never get enough of.
He bent his head down towards hers. “You’re an enabler.”
She pulled the bottle away from him. “Shit, I can just keep it-”
“-No, no,” Benji reached for the bottle. “All I need is a paper bag for this and I can sign up for hobo.”
“Yeah, you got the clothes.”
“How ‘bout that place?” Billy pointed. Seemed like the typical bar, only there was a widescreen TV like in a sports bar, but no huge pennants of the Browns, or the Indians, or any sport paraphernalia up on the walls. A couple of pool tables, booths along the far wall and a couple against the right hand side, a jukebox in the back. CJ appreciated the presence of the jukebox and okayed the decision. No one else seemed to have major qualms, so they went in and established a booth. Benji went and ordered at the bar, CJ stood in front of the jukebox, looking at all the selections. Goddammit if they didn’t have an assload of country. Who the hell listens to country? Was it the Midwest that was at fault for this plague that gripped these United States? “What they got?” Paul asked as he joined her in the search for a suitable song.
“Crap, crap, crap,” she said as she turned through the pages of album covers. “Ooh, look at this page. Nirvana. That’s random.”
“Smashing Pumpkins?”
“Bloodhound Gang?”
“Madonna.”
“And Green day.” Paul knew it was decided then, because Green Day was her beginning, her origin, her nexus. Tre Cool had been her teacher, she his protégé. If she didn’t pick out all Green Day songs it would only be in consideration of other people in the place, and a little for the guys. The only one who liked Green Day nearly as much as she did was Joel, and he had opted not to join them. She put in a dollar and picked “Basket Case” first off, then “Longview,” “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, “Tonight, Tonight,” and “Today” by SP. “Five for a buck, good deal,” she said to Paul.
“That was, like, the non-crap page,” he said, referring to the albums.
Benji approached her with her Karona with lime. She took it obligingly and pushed the lime wedge down into the bottle. “I asked for Red Stripe, but they don’t have it. So…” he pulled his hand out from behind his back and held out a double shot of brown liquid. “151 for ya, baby.”
She took it and downed it without hesitation. “Thank you, Benj,” she said handing the glass back to him. “Catch up.”
“You get redder when you drink,” Paul said to her. “You turn, like, Mahogany.”
She stared at him a moment as he leaned there against the juke box, his eyes idly wandering around the room, observing the faces that paid abbreviated attention to their group. “Uh, thanks, Paul.” He nodded and extracted a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. “You know, youget a cute little flush when you haven’t smoked in a while and you finally get one to your lips.”
He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, a smile spreading across his face as he tipped the cigarette up and looked at the glowing tip. “It’s like a tiny little orgasm every time.” She watched the smoke in rapt attention as it was curling off the end of the cigarette to dissipate in the air between them.
“How tiny?” Paul lifted an eyebrow and reached into his pocket for the pack. “No, no,” she grabbed his forearm. “I want that one,” she said, still looking at the one that rested between his middle and ring finger. For some reason it seriously pissed her off that he held his cigarette that way, but she chalked it up to simply disapproving of the habit entirely. Or else she was jealous that he made it look so goddamn good. She guided his hand by the wrist, to her mouth and took a long drag from the slightly damp filter, holding it in her lungs for an inordinate amount of time before she let it out as she voiced, “Oh yeah.” She bent over and put her hands on her knees, shaking her head, looking at the floor. “Jesus Christ, that was awesome.”
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Quit end of high school.” She paused. “Have you ever been to Prince of Georgetown?”
He wrinkled his brow in thought. “Don’t think so.”
“It’s a Middle Eastern restaurant in DC, you can get a hookah there, with whatever flavor tobacco you want. It’s so smooth, goes through a water filter so the smoke is all cold and tastes awesome. I always get mango.” She looked up, her hands still on her knees. “We should go when we get home.”
Paul smacked her butt so she stood up straight and said, “Deal.”
CJ sat at the bar, waiting on their next round of drinks when three girls tumbled into the place, having spotted the guys through the open door. It had probably been Benji’s pink marbled head that tipped them off. They giggled and approached the table of guys as CJ looked over her shoulder at the scene, not intending at all to get involved. Besides, she was too drunk to go over and make smart comments with Paul. “Oh my God, you’re Benji,” one of the girls, the shortest, brown haired girl said and reached out and touched his arm. “Holy crap, I was about to get in line for the show so I could see you… and here you are!” Billy looked at his watch. There were still hours before show time.
“Hi, Billy,” the tallest, most awkward one said softly.
“Hey there,” he responded.
“Where’s Joel?” The blond one asked.
“He’s being a bitch back at the venue,” Benji said, then blushed after realizing he was being a bastard in public, and in front of these poor adolescent girls. They didn’t know any better. “He isn’t big on going out partying,” he clarified.
“You three going to be up front at the show?” Paul asked. “We’ll wink at you.”
The short one perked up, “Really?”
Paul internally cringed at how trusting they were. “Sure. You better go hop in line, though, if you’re gonna get up front.”
“Could you give us a shout out?” The blond one asked. “I’m Emily, that’s Gina,” she pointed to the perky one, “and that’s Paula.”
“I’ll log that away,” Benji mumbled into his beer.
“If he remembers, he’ll do it,” Billy assured them. “Okay?”
The bar owner looked past CJ as he set the guy’s three beers in front of her, and another shot of 151 for her. “Hey!” He yelled. She licked the surface of her shot and looked back over her shoulder as the owner started over to the guy’s table. “Hey, hey, are you kids 21?” He addressed the girls. They looked up at him, frightened and stunned by his gruff voice.
Getting the gumption to step in and pull the girls out before they really got laid into, CJ spoke up. “Uh, hey Greg?” CJ called to him. He looked back at her as she hopped off the bar stool, the necks of the beer bottles between her fingers, and came over. “Can you bring my shot over?” He looked back at the girls, almost huddling at the side of the table, then back at CJ, who still looked just about their age, as she gave him a reassuring smile. He turned and went back to the bar. CJ set the beers in front of the guys and smiled at the girls, putting a hand on the tallest one’s shoulder, giving it a gentle rub. “It’s okay. He’s just… he could get arrested if underage people were found in his bar, is all.”
“We- we didn’t mean to-” Gina started.
“I know. But you should prob’ly go now, before he gets back.” CJ spoke to them like they were three years old, without even realizing it. Just looking at them, with their wide eyes and fresh spirit, well it just made them seem like kids. The girls quickly collected themselves and removed themselves from the establishment. The guys watched them go without saying anything.
“That was surprisingly decent of you,” Paul said.
She shrugged as Greg came back with her shot. “C’mon,” he said, a twinkle in his eye, obviously referring to something they had been talking about earlier, but none of the guys knew about. She grinned up at him and put a hand on his elbow.
“All right, just this once,” she said, tipping her head back and opening her mouth. He laughed under his breath and held the 151 high, pouring a long, thin stream of it into CJ’s mouth, some of it missing to slide down the curve of her chin and her throat. When she closed her mouth and swallowed, running a hand along the wet skin, all three guys were staring open-mouthed. “What, you guys want shots too?” She slammed the table with her palm. “I need some air. Paul? Come with?”
Paul took a swig of his beer and said, “I ain’t your girlfriend, Ceej. Y’can’t bring me to the bathroom with you every ten and a half minutes.”
CJ licked the spilt alcohol from her fingers. “Please?”
Paul sighed as he handed her a napkin and got out of the booth. “Jesus, we’re in public.”
Paul and CJ sat on the curb outside the bar, a premature twilight settling in because of the tall buildings of downtown. Paul lit up a cigarette, the burst of light illuminating them both for a brief moment. “It’s nice out tonight,” CJ said.
“Mm hmm.” Paul leaned forward, putting an elbow on his knees and cradling his head as he looked at her. “Is there a specific reason you’re so hell-bent on getting freakin’ plastered today?”
She focused bleary eyes on him and cocked her head. “No. Who needs a reason?”
Paul shrugged. “You do, dude. We got a gig soon… it’s your first Cleveland show. You can’t blow this one.”
She feigned astonishment. “You doubt me?” She grabbed him around the neck in a tight embrace.
“No,” came the muffled reply. “But if your liver falls out, you can’t play.”
She kissed his hair four times in rapid succession, the way she always did with her puppy and anyone else that happened to draw her affection, then he pressed her cheek against his. “Aww, you worried about me? I’ll be okay. I’ll quit drinkin’ right now, just for you.”
“Really?” He turned his face up to her.
“Sure, dude.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body closer to him, to block out the chilly air between their midsections. “Y’know you’re the best blanket ever,” she said.
Paul laughed as he put out his cigarette behind her. “You’re the tiniest blanket ever. You totally get the better deal out of this.”
“You have built in layers to keep you warm, I got nothing.”
“Did you just call me fat?”
Someone stumbled out of the bar behind them, mumbling to himself, and started peeing on the side of the building a few feet away. It was Benji. “Don’t mind me, the bathroom was full.”
Paul shielded CJ’s eyes from the sight. “Hey, dude, are you drunk enough? Can we get the fuck up outta here?”
Benji moved his foot, as he was getting some splatter on his shoe. “Uh… yeah, I figure we should go. ‘Specially since those girls found us, there’s a chance a little army of 14 year olds are going to show up looking for us soon.”
“Like that Beatles movie,” CJ interjected, still letting Paul cover her eyes. Benji zipped up and turned around, Paul and CJ watching him go to the door and motion Billy out. He paid the tab and joined them outside. “Paul, you’re so awesome.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, turning her face to him.
“You are, you’re just…” she stopped short, pressing her lips together a moment and taking a deep breath. “I don’t…” Paul’s eyes widened.
“Oh, shit.” He stood up, pulling her up with him and half guiding, half carrying her over to the grass Benji had just visited. He pat her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach. “God, you’re so sexy when you’re turning yourself inside out.” She reached over and whacked him in the crotch between spasms. Next she knew his head was down level with hers, a grimace on his face, trying to hold back vomit as much as she was. “You suck on s-so many levels,” he whispered.
Two more guys came out of the bar and started making some comments to Billy and Benji about their style of dress, their use of eyeliner the first subject of ridicule, graduating to statements about freaks like them in general, countered by cracks about sport-loving, fat-ass, big-necked Midwesterners who did nothing but eat and watch football all day. CJ wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up on significantly rubbery legs, leaning on Paul and turned around to see Benji throw the first punch. “Goddammit,” Paul said.
“Well,” CJ began, shaking out her limbs to get some strength back in them. “I never won no beauty pageant, so let’s go get ugly.” She started to jump into the fray but Paul held her back. She frowned up at him. “Okay, well, there was that one fashion show-”
“Are you crazy?” He asked, standing between her and the fight.
“What?”
“Okay, number one, you haven’t paid us back bail on the last one. Number two, those guys are huge. Number three-”
CJ shushed him in the middle of his sermon, not feeling like hearing the rest, knowing he was going to bring up that one time she punched some bitch out but ended up spraining her hand. “I’ll go break it up, then.” She pushed Paul out of the way, digging in her pocket for something, and called Benji and Billy’s names. Both parties stopped and responded to her voice. She pushed in between the two groups and looked up into their faces. “All right look. Paul and I have had enough of this bullshit, it’s time to go.”
“Nah, they ain’t leavin’ till we whup their asses,” one of the Midwesterners said and shoved Benji, over CJ’s head. Benji was primed to fight back when she put hands on their midsections and pushed them apart.
“Gentlemen, seriously. We gotta go.” She looked up at the Midwesterners. “Next time we’re in the city, we’ll come back here, we’ll settle it. Give me your phone numbers, I’ll call you with our schedule.” She held out her left hand to them, ball point pen in her right hand. They blinked down at her, looked at each other, then back down at CJ. “Just write it there on the palm.” The first guy took the pen in his enormous mitt, dwarfing CJ’s hand as he put his name and number on her palm. The other was almost as large as his mate. He spoke up.
“You, uh, you can always call us, even if it’s not about these losers. Hey, why don’t you stay, hang out with us?”
She smiled slowly. “Love to, but I can’t.” She took her pen back and put it in her pocket. “Thank you.” She gripped Benji and Billy by a wrist and pulled them away from the confrontation.
“You just got me out of a fight,” Benji said as they were walking away.
“D’uh.”
“Remind me to kick your ass later.”
“They would have knocked your teeth out of your skull,” Paul said.
“Maybe, but we woulda gotten some good shots in,” Billy countered. They were all startled by a loud pop that echoed around them, sound bouncing off of the buildings along the darkening street. Paul turned to see one of the big guys on the ground, his friend looking up into the darkened windows to his left. Another pop and his friend dropped beside him. Paul looked up and around, having caught the strobe of gunfire in the corner of his eye, fifth floor up, above an Italian restaurant.
“What the fuck was that?” Billy asked.
“Be right back,” Paul said to them and ran across the street, trying the half door to the left of the Italian place, assuming that was an entrance to the stairs in the building.
“Holy crap, they’re shot,” Billy breathed as the three of them came back to the scene. The barkeep was already on the phone to the police and the wailing of sirens grew in the background. Figures. You get blown up in Anacostia in DC, the police show up in an hour and half, get shot in Cleveland, the police are there in a minute and a half.
“What’s Paul doing?” Benji asked.
When the door to the stairs was locked, he went into the restaurant and asked how to get upstairs. “No one goes up there. It hasn’t been renovated, it’s just open space.” The old lady in the kitchen spoke with a thick accent and waved a large spoon as she spoke.
“Well, someone’s up there, I know it.”
She stepped out of the kitchen and came around the counter, standing uncomfortably close and peering up into Paul’s face. “How do you know?” she asked suspiciously.
Paul narrowed his eyes at her, showing he had determination to get to the bottom of this, and no cranky old lady with a wooden spoon was going to stand in his way. “I just know. Where are the stairs?”
She crossed her arms. “There are no stairs. All boarded up now.” Paul sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, thinking.
“Fire escape,” he whispered to himself, snapping as the idea exploded into his mind. He turned and rushed out.
“No running in my restaurant!” The old lady called after him.
He found the alley to the right of the store and ran down, looking up at the skeletal form of the old-fashioned fire escape. He found the ladder pulled up, but a once boarded up window had recently been made into an entrance. The ladder was way too high to get a grip on. “Dammit.” He attempted to move the dumpster so he could reach higher, but it wouldn’t budge. How the hell had the guy gotten up there? He must have had some mad ups. Maybe if he got Benji and Billy to help push the dumpster he could climb up. He sprinted back out, across the street to get the guys. The blue and red was bouncing off of the buildings now and two cars came roaring up the once-quiet street.
“Where the fuck were you?” CJ asked, gripping his hand.
“I saw where the shots came from. I was trying to get up there.”
CJ stared blankly up at him. “Are you stoned? You could get killed, that guy obviously has no qualms about killing people, seeing as how those two motherfuckers are dead.” She looked at her hand. “Peter and Dillard are dead.”
The police officers began to ask what had happened. Unfortunately, the last most people in the bar had seen were Benji and Billy arguing with the two dead guys in front of the door. When both had moved out of sight, that was when the shooting had occurred. “Is that you two?” The first cop asked, looking immediately at Benji, then at Billy. He had dark eyes and hair and a stern face sharp enough to grate cheese on.
“Yeah,” Benji said. “Me and him.” He indicated Billy.
“We’re gonna have to bring you to answer a few questions.”
Benji protested. “Shit, can’t you just ask me here? I got a show in a little bit.”
“A show?” The second cop asked, leaning in. “What, like, a circus?” He laughed, as did the other cop. He could’ve been the other cop’s twin, except his eyes were blue. .
“Look, we had a fight, we walked away, we came back when we heard gunfire. That’s it. We didn’t even see anything helpful.” He looked down at the light reflecting off of the blood pooling out from the bodies. The ambulance arrived and the EMTs jumped out to get to work.
The first cop looked between the two of them slowly, his hands at his hips, habitually on the handle of his baton and the holster of his gun. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to take you in to answer a few questions.”
Paul walked up to the officers. “Look, I caught the light from the gunshot up there in those windows.” He pointed. “Fifth floor.”
The two cops stared at him for a few moments, looking up at the darkened, boarded up windows, than back down at him. “Those floors are condemned. No one’s up there,” the second cop said.
Paul grunted in frustration. “Jesus, ever heard of a crack house? Just cuz it’s condemned doesn’t mean there’s nobody in it.”
The two cops looked across the street, their eyes drawn the direction of the Italian restaurant a moment, then back at Paul. “Tell you what,” the first cop said. “You kids go on do your… show,” he snickered. “No need to hold you up here, all right?” Paul glanced back over his shoulder to see the old lady and what looked like would be her husband standing in the doorway of the restaurant, light spilling out around them as they watched the scene from where they were. As Benji, Billy and CJ started away from the scene, CJ gripping his elbow and pulling him along with her, Paul watched as the two older people turned and went back inside. He got the feeling that there was something seriously shady going down in this neighborhood, as he felt the eyes of the officers, the barkeep, and even the dead eyes of the victims following their party until the commotion receded out of sight.
Wow, that was a boring little snippet, but it was just a set up, so now the fun begins. Oh, there’s more. Just you wait.