ones, receptive audiences and apathetic ones. But Dud was right. Tonight,
the electricity crackled in the air.
The final notes of Heart of Darkness faded away, and Danny
hung up his microphone and left the stage. The crowd was rowdy, and he was
stopped several times by spirited Saturday-night revelers. He kept darting
glances her way as he worked his way through the crowd, and the set of his
shoulders told her he was upset about something. He reached her at last, his
face thunderous, his eyes steely. “I need some air,” he said, brushing past
her without stopping.
In the alley outside, he lit a cigarette and began pacing. His
voice tight, he said, “Jake’s quitting the band.”
It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Jake Edwards was a
talented drummer, and he’d been with Danny for years. “Oh, no,” she said.
“Why?”
“Brenda’s pregnant.”
Her mouth went suddenly dry. “And?”
“And,” he said bitterly, “they’re flat broke. He’s going to sell
his drums and go to work in her father’s shoe store.”
“Oh, Danny. Isn’t there any other way?”
“He says they’ve talked the subject to death, and it’s the only
answer. He’s throwing away his whole damn future.”
The warm glow inside her had gone cold. “Maybe,” she ventured,
“they wanted a baby.”
He snorted. “ She wanted a baby, not they. She stopped
taking her birth control pills and neglected to mention it to Jake. I’d
throttle any woman who ever did that to me.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Not that you ever would,” he added. “You have your priorities in order.”
For some reason, she was having difficulty breathing. “What
happens now?” she asked.
“We run an ad. Audition people. Hope to Christ we find someone
we can work with.” He flung his unsmoked cigarette on the ground and crushed
it with his foot. “Did you feel it tonight?”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I felt it the minute I
walked through the door.”
He leaned against the dirty bricks of the building across the
alley and kicked at a clump of dead weeds. “We’ve never sounded better, we’ve
got more work than we can handle, and he decides to walk. Why? Why now?”
Casey thought about Benny Juarez. About Brenda Edwards, and about
her own sister, Colleen. Then, squaring her shoulders, she crossed the alley
to her husband. Beneath the cool silk of his shirt, his muscles were taut,
hard. “We’ll figure something out,” she said.
And he took her in his arms.
***
The week the band began auditioning drummers, Benny Juarez left
St. Peter’s for the foster home of a young black couple in Mattapan. Casey
could have made the trip out to Mattapan to visit, but what was the sense? Her
heart had already been broken once, and she wasn’t sure it could take any more
good-byes. It was better for both of them if she made a clean break.
So she buried her despair in work. The drum auditions weren’t
going well. Jake was getting antsy because of the heat Brenda was putting on
him. Travis paced and muttered and shook his head, while Danny and Rob turned
down hopeful after hopeful, both of them intent on finding a drummer of Jake’s
caliber.
It wasn’t easy. From Lowell to Fall River, every young hotshot
with a drum set wanted to be a member of Boston’s hottest rock band. Hoping to
weed out the amateurs from the professionals, Danny reworded his ad to say serious
musicians only . But it seemed that all the kids thought they were
serious. Everybody wanted a piece of the action. So he tried again: working
musicians only. But that was a flop, because the working musicians
weren’t looking for work.
A month later, when they still hadn’t found anyone suitable,
Brenda Edwards issued an ultimatum: her or the band. Brenda had been raised
in a devout Christian home, and she’d always hated Jake’s involvement with
the electricity crackled in the air.
The final notes of Heart of Darkness faded away, and Danny
hung up his microphone and left the stage. The crowd was rowdy, and he was
stopped several times by spirited Saturday-night revelers. He kept darting
glances her way as he worked his way through the crowd, and the set of his
shoulders told her he was upset about something. He reached her at last, his
face thunderous, his eyes steely. “I need some air,” he said, brushing past
her without stopping.
In the alley outside, he lit a cigarette and began pacing. His
voice tight, he said, “Jake’s quitting the band.”
It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Jake Edwards was a
talented drummer, and he’d been with Danny for years. “Oh, no,” she said.
“Why?”
“Brenda’s pregnant.”
Her mouth went suddenly dry. “And?”
“And,” he said bitterly, “they’re flat broke. He’s going to sell
his drums and go to work in her father’s shoe store.”
“Oh, Danny. Isn’t there any other way?”
“He says they’ve talked the subject to death, and it’s the only
answer. He’s throwing away his whole damn future.”
The warm glow inside her had gone cold. “Maybe,” she ventured,
“they wanted a baby.”
He snorted. “ She wanted a baby, not they. She stopped
taking her birth control pills and neglected to mention it to Jake. I’d
throttle any woman who ever did that to me.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Not that you ever would,” he added. “You have your priorities in order.”
For some reason, she was having difficulty breathing. “What
happens now?” she asked.
“We run an ad. Audition people. Hope to Christ we find someone
we can work with.” He flung his unsmoked cigarette on the ground and crushed
it with his foot. “Did you feel it tonight?”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I felt it the minute I
walked through the door.”
He leaned against the dirty bricks of the building across the
alley and kicked at a clump of dead weeds. “We’ve never sounded better, we’ve
got more work than we can handle, and he decides to walk. Why? Why now?”
Casey thought about Benny Juarez. About Brenda Edwards, and about
her own sister, Colleen. Then, squaring her shoulders, she crossed the alley
to her husband. Beneath the cool silk of his shirt, his muscles were taut,
hard. “We’ll figure something out,” she said.
And he took her in his arms.
***
The week the band began auditioning drummers, Benny Juarez left
St. Peter’s for the foster home of a young black couple in Mattapan. Casey
could have made the trip out to Mattapan to visit, but what was the sense? Her
heart had already been broken once, and she wasn’t sure it could take any more
good-byes. It was better for both of them if she made a clean break.
So she buried her despair in work. The drum auditions weren’t
going well. Jake was getting antsy because of the heat Brenda was putting on
him. Travis paced and muttered and shook his head, while Danny and Rob turned
down hopeful after hopeful, both of them intent on finding a drummer of Jake’s
caliber.
It wasn’t easy. From Lowell to Fall River, every young hotshot
with a drum set wanted to be a member of Boston’s hottest rock band. Hoping to
weed out the amateurs from the professionals, Danny reworded his ad to say serious
musicians only . But it seemed that all the kids thought they were
serious. Everybody wanted a piece of the action. So he tried again: working
musicians only. But that was a flop, because the working musicians
weren’t looking for work.
A month later, when they still hadn’t found anyone suitable,
Brenda Edwards issued an ultimatum: her or the band. Brenda had been raised
in a devout Christian home, and she’d always hated Jake’s involvement with
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