All The Young Punks Pt. 28

She smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you flirting with my girl?" Monk asked.

"We always flirt," Jett said. "Shut up."

Joe looked into her eyes. "I'm gonna get you on stage someday."

She nodded with a little blush.

"You don't have a fucking band," Clyde said loudly, "Nowhere Man."

The three main punks at Tommy's, the guys who found his struggling bar not long ago, were coupled with the three main punk chicks. They were the original six of the NHL. All the others followed. Simon was part of the first wave of punk expansion. The original six had dibs at the bar. Tommy would enforce that rule for his regulars.

Clyde and Sunny were the senior citizens but Joe was not sure of their ages. Clyde moved to NYC after college, during the demise of the folk music scene after Dylan went electric. He and Sunny attended Woodstock. He had jobs in the newspaper business but was now doing the graveyard shift at the bakery. Joe didn't know what hair color Sunny was because he'd only seen bleach blonde and her cotton candy colors. She worked in a hair and nail salon doing all the punk hair, men and women.

Zip graduated from Columbia with a degree in mathematics and dropped out of the academic world because he couldn't get hired with a red mohawk. He had a strong fuck-the-system attitude, to his financial detriment. He worked the third shift at the bakery and was an apprentice tattoo artist. Judy was the sweetest of the girls but she looked like the toughest with a lot of black punk fashion and dark, heavy makeup, but not the crazy hair. She had a cubicle job.

Monk and Jett were NYU grads. Monk also walked away from his career for similar reasons as Zipp. He could not conform to societal norms. His big spiked hair made employment difficult. He was the shift manager at the bakery. Fashion-wise, Jett was not an extreme punk. She was the most attractive of the three women. She resembled Cher with a slender build and prominent nose. She had gorgeous dark eyes, 100% Jewish. She worked in the jewelry trade. Her family imported diamonds.

The three men wore leather so heavily laden with metal studs that Joe couldn't imagine they were comfortable. It was an unspoken competition to prove they were the most committed punk. Joe had become fond of the original six after many late-night diners, but especially after they cared for Simon. They were always there for him. Joe loved them for that.

"What's Joe's tab up to these days, Tommy?" Monk asked. "You may want to call that in. He's unemployed."

"You should say it louder for the people on Ninth Ave," Joe said.

"Joe doesn't keep an ongoing tab like you deadbeats," Tommy smiled. "He settles it before he leaves town, every time."

"Well, he ain't leaving town for a while," Zip said while sipping a pint. "So you might want to keep his credit limit low. He has no job."

"Hey Tommy," Joe raised his hand. Set these clowns up on my tab. So, you said Jada's playing here Saturday night?"

"Yup."

"I'm gonna bring T to see her band."

"Are you on drugs?" Clyde said. "Your girl hates Jada. She doesn't even have to say it. The daggers in her eyes..."

"I know, but I'm gonna fix that."

Monk laughed, "You're gonna fix what, Jada? Tina?"

"I'm gonna make them friends," He sipped his beer. "Or something like that."

"He's definitely on drugs." Zip said. "Those two are oil and water."

"You should be under doctor supervision with Johnny," Clyde muttered.

Joe was gathering his people, connecting with those he believed would help him in his next venture, including Jada. He called Eddie Bags and apologized for that last horrible set. He phoned his best road clubs, just to fill them in, and promise he'd be back with a new band... someday.

--- TINA VS JADA - ROUND 2 ---

When Joe and T walked into Tommy's The Studs were in the middle of their first set. This was by design. Joe wanted Jada to be on stage, unable to cause trouble when he arrived. It was also to give Tina time to prepare for what's sure to come.

When Tina realized who the band was, she stared at Joe "Seriously? Do you really believe I want to see this crap?"

"Take it easy. They're a good band and she's great. Just give them a chance."

She was not pleased with his deception by omission. "Why didn't you tell me she was playing?"

"You didn't ask?"

Joe noticed the hard punks were eyeballing him and T. He smirked, then nodded, knowing they'd be watching to see if drama unfolded, or exploded. After they had drinks in hand, he asked if she wanted to go up front.

She had to speak directly into his ear. "Why would I want to do that? Are you trying to cause trouble?"

"No, on the contrary, I'm trying to avoid trouble by sending a message. We're here and we're together. Jada's bullshit doesn't affect us."

Tina's expression was neutral, but Joe could tell she was thinking through what he just said.

"C'mon," he took her by the hand and led her through the crush of punks. Friends acknowledged him and gave back pats as they moved to within fifteen feet of the stage. Jada saw them and smiled. She made a kissy face at Joe. So Joe pulled Tina closer. Tina saw the kissy face and knew what he was doing, so she put one hand behind his head and kissed him. When she looked back at Jada watching them, Tina smiled.

They moved a little closer. Tina stood in front of Joe. He watched the show over her head. Jada seemed unfazed. She did her hard punk chick stage routine. Tina watched, making eye contact with Jada every time she looked their way, which was often. Jada Jones was a force of nature on stage. She played a strong thundering bass. Her singing voice had range, from angry punk to sweet and melodic.

When the first set ended, Tina turned to Joe. "Okay, I get it. She's good."

"I told ya."

The crowd up front thinned as patrons headed to the restrooms, bar, or outdoors for a smoke. Joe leaned down and spoke in Tina's ear.

"If she pulls any shit, don't get upset. Call her out. I'm with you. Make sure everyone hears whatever you have to say to her." He leaned back to make eye contact. "Okay?"

Joe led Tina towards the bar. They stood behind Simon, Sunny, and Zip. Clyde turned and smiled at Joe. "You're a braver man than I."

"Or stupid," Monk added.

Joe winked. "We'll see."

When Jada walked up behind Joe and grabbed his ass, he didn't react. He turned and said, "Hi Jada. You guys are tight tonight, right T?""

Tina nodded, "Yeah, they are." She smiled at Jada.

Jada made her move, putting a hand behind Joe's neck trying to pull him down to her level. His head and shoulders went rigid. Undaunted, Jada went up on her toes. Joe put a hand on her chest to maintain distance.

Tina found her loudest voice short of yelling. "Really, Jada?" She shook her head. "Are you gonna pull this pathetic shit? What are you, a fucking groupie?"

Jada's eyes went wide, as did the eyes of several punks who heard her words loud and clear.

"Fuck you," Jada said, glaring at T.

Tina smiled. "You're a sad, attention-seeking little bitch," she paused. "just like everyone says."

"Who said that?" she replied.

"I've heard it," Joe said. "But I'm not naming names. Just be cool."

Joe knew this could go either way, Jada realizing she was facing two people who wouldn't put up with her shit and then backing down, or an escalation that could get ugly. He and Jada were locked in a showdown of eyes. She shifted her gaze to Tina.

"You can be that bitch," Tina said. "Or we can be cool. It's entirely your call. I'm good either way."

Jada looked back at Joe, then at Jeremy, who was watching the unfolding drama from behind the bar. "Can I get Bud?" She said, looked up at Joe, and then turned her shoulder away, squeezing between Clyde and Zip's stools to get closer to the bar.

"Put that on my tab," Joe said, "And can we get another round?" He gestured to Tina.

After the second set, hanging around the bar with the punks and The Studs, Joe had one more move for T to make. He leaned down and whispered.

"You call the pie safari. Ask who's going?"

Tina cleared her throat, "Joe and I are going out for a bite. Who's in?"

Several hands went up. "I'm in," a couple of voices said.

Walking to the diner, Joe, Tina, and Simon were joined by four other punks. Jada was not among them. Tina leaned against Joe. "You planned that all along, didn't you?"

"Not really. I just wanted you to face off with her and I hoped you wouldn't let her get the best of you."

"I was worried she'd pick a fight and I'd have to kick her ass."

Joe glanced at Simon, then back at T. "Yeah, it's a good thing you didn't have to do that."

He and Simon laughed.

"I could have!"

--- THE AD SAYS NO DRUGS ---

Nearly two weeks after placing his ad for bass and drums, Joe was seeing his fifth candidate. So far, he had passed on a drummer and three bass players. On this day, he didn't need to see Garrett strike one drum skin. His mind was made up. The moment the twenty-something rocker walked into the studio, escorted by Marsha, Joe knew he wasn't the right guy.

They talked for a minute. Joe observed him fidgeting and twitching nervously. It could be just nerves, but Joe suspected something else.

"Do you even like punk rock?" Joe asked.

"It's alright."

"Have you ever played rockabilly or surf?"

"I'm a drummer, not a guitarist. The music doesn't matter as much. I'll keep your beat."

"Did you see the part of the ad that clearly states... 'No drugs?"

"Yeah."

"Then why the fuck would you show up high?"

"I'm not high," Garrett said while wringing his hands in his lap and slightly rocking back and forth in his chair.

"I'm gonna have to pass."

"I'm not high." he gestured to Marty's studio drum kit. "Don't you want to hear me play?"

"Nope. We're done." Joe stood up. "Thanks for coming in. Sorry it was a waste of time... for both of us."

"You're an asshole."

Joe opened the door and waved him through. As he passed through the door, Garrett shot Joe a scowl. Joe said nothing. Ten minutes later, Simon came in hot.

"Sorry, I'm late. They stopped the train between stations. We sat there for twelve minutes."

"How does that make you twenty-eight minutes late?"

"Where is he? Is he late too?"

"Nope, we're done."

"Really? Not good, huh?"

"The ad says no drugs and that asshole showed up high. He was all twitchy and talking too fast."

"Maybe he was just nervous?"

"No," Joe shook his head. "When in doubt, take a pass. What kills me is the fact these guys don't seem to be reading the ad. This idiot shows up high. The first two guys are heavy metal players, not punk. One guy tried to convince us to join his band and another wanted us to play Zeppelin. What the fuck?"

"I told ya long ago," Simon smiled. "Musicians are unreliable wankers."

"I know," Joe smirked. "Some of them show up twenty-eight minutes late for a meeting."

Joe and Simon had taken residence in Cohen Studios using the small sound room to continue working on covers as well as original songs. Marty mostly left them alone, but he'd pop into the control room on occasion and flip the toggle that allowed him to hear what they were playing, but he rarely intervened. He'd wave, listen a bit, then go about his business.

It had been more than five months since the attack. Simon was getting stronger, his once broken fingers and badly bruised fret hand were healed and causing less pain as he rehabilitated by playing guitar every day. He and Joe used the studio a few hours per week. Joe could see the progress Simon was making. He was almost ready.

As days turned into weeks, Joe was thinking less and less about the past. He was present for Tina in their new life, and looking to the future.

--- MEANWHILE, ON FEDERAL HILL ----

Pops walked into the garage to find Sal lying on the porn sofa with a beer, two empties on the coffee table with a pack of smokes, and a full ashtray. Merv Griffin was Sal's afternoon companion on his 19" RCA. He had an extension cord running from the old band area to the lounge. The TV was loud. Tiny Tim was Merv's guest.

"Turn that trash down," Pops said. "Is this what you're doing all day?" He walked over, stood above Sal, and looked down. "Have you showered?"

"Yeah, on Wednesday."

"It's Friday, take a shower."

Pops went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. He glanced over at his 22-year-old son, a gorilla, wallowing in loss and sadness. Tony didn't know what to do. He showed up every day to check on Sal, cooked him a meal, and then went about his business.

John Bucci Senior was furious with Sal. This was devastating. Sal felt he was being blamed for Johnny's relapse. No one was saying that, but Sal felt it, and it hurt. Senior was angry that Sal did not contact him back in September as he had promised Joe as well as his denial of the truth and leaving Johnny behind.

Nate sympathized with Sal. "What are we, war heroes? We can't leave a junkie behind? Johnny wasn't wounded. He walked away."

"You forgot about the fucking spit," Sal said.

"No, I didn't."

That exchange was two weeks ago. In the days since, Sal was so rudderless and bitter that Nate moved out of the garage and in with a girlfriend, some divorcee with a daughter. He had banged her when she was married, and Nate was back for round two.

John Senior kept Tony in the loop. Pops kept Sal updated.

"I guess they threw him in the trunk, dropped Joe off at Yankee Stadium, and drove straight to The Berkshires. They let him out of the trunk in Connecticut at a truck stop. Bats said Johnny pissed himself in the trunk."

"Fucking Johnny," Sal said quietly. "I'm so glad I didn't see that shit; thrown in the trunk, pissing his pants. Fuck."

Pops shrugged, "I don't know, it sounds funny to me. Hey, I love Junior, but he's a fuck up. What are you gonna do? His old man is tough, but he loves his son."

Sal was also bitter because he felt Joe was getting off with a slap on the wrist for his role. He was just as culpable as Sal. And the fact Joe thought he was so-fucking-right about Johnny from the start made Sal crazy. He knew he fucked up, but he couldn't admit to more than an equal share of blame... and he was getting it all.

Pops tolerated Sal's lethargy for a week, then he started poking, trying to get his son to snap out of his malaise. When Sal expressed his negative thoughts, claiming Joe never wanted Johnny back and his compromise was just Joe waiting for Johnny to fail, Pops let him have it.

"Joe's not running back here to kiss and make up because he didn't do anything wrong. You did. If you're not man enough to admit that, and reach out to Joe, your band is done and he'll start over in New York. What are you gonna do with your life without that band?"

"He's already starting over. He had his pal Simon all lined up to take Johnny's place. He's been scheming for months. I think he wanted Johnny in rehab so he could make his move. I won't be part of it."

Pops looked at his son with sadness. "You're being an ass. I don't believe Joe tried to get rid of Johnny. He was preparing for the worst. The kid always has a plan, he's two steps ahead of you at every turn."

"Because he's always scheming and playing people," Sal barked at his Dad. "Joe is a manipulative little shit. Let him start a new band with Simon. I don't give a fuck."

Pops waved at Sal lying on the couch. "Obviously. You've moved on to better things. Now you're free to be a liquor store cashier for the rest of your goddamn life."

--- THE THEROUX NAME ---

The phone rang in 3C. Lana picked up.

"No, I'm her roommate, Lana." She listened. "He's right here, cooking dinner." Lana held the phone out, covering it. "It's your mother and she doesn't sound happy."

Joe wiped his hands and took the phone. "Hi Ma, what is it?"

"How could you tell your sister to beat up a girl? What kind of brother are you? Girls don't fight. There's no excuse for what you did... or what she did. I cannot believe you would put your little sister in danger like that. Who do you think you are?"

Joe remained quiet, waiting, and waiting.

"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"How's Jackie?"

"She's fine, just shaken up and suspended from school because of you."

"Is she hurt?"

"No, she's fine."

"Then why is she shaken?"

"I guess not everyone gets their kicks from beating up people... like you do."

"What happened?"

"She got into a fight with some girl who was picking on her... but you already know that because that's what you told her to do."

"If she's not hurt, what's the big deal?"

Mom went off again, scolding Joe for being irresponsible and crass, not caring for his sister's safety. She just kept going so Joe tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and went back to preparing dinner. Mom was fired up. She hadn't spoken like this in months. Joe smirked because he found it oddly familiar, if not comforting. When Mom ran out of breath, Joe had one thing to say.

"That big bitch tormented Jackie for months. It was so bad she hated going to school. Is that what you want, Ma? Because that's what I went through; the bullying, the daily fear, and the stress. Is that what you want for Jackie?"

"Of course not."

"Well, that shit is over. I guarantee no one will mess with Jackie again. You can yell at me all you want. I would give her the same advice tomorrow. I don't give a damn that she got suspended. It's worth it."

Mom went silent.

"Is Jackie there?"

Mom said nothing. She handed Jackie the phone.

"Hi, Joe."

"Hey, champ. Are you shaken?"

"No. I'm good."

"You didn't take a hit?"

"Nope. But I gave out a few."

"And you're okay?"

"Yes. It happened exactly as you said it would."

"You took out the knee?" Joe dumped pasta in a colander. "Tell me everything."

"It was more than just that day," Jackie explained. "She got in my face last week and I did something to set her up. I fell down and threw my books, pretending she knocked me down. A teacher grabbed Doreen and dragged her to the office."

"Very sneaky. I like it."

"She yelled at me as she was pulled away. 'I'll get you, Theroux, you little cunt!"

"She said that in front of a teacher?"

"Two teachers and a lot of kids," Jackie laughed. "She got three days detention. This morning we had study hall and she was waiting for me. The moment I walked in she got close, towered over me, and started barking what a pussy I am."

"Hang on. How many kids were in the study hall?"

"Two full classes, maybe fifty."

"Perfect. So you knew she was coming for you?"

"I was waiting for it. She shoved me and I kicked the side of her knee brace, really hard. She went down and grabbed a desk to keep herself from falling, so I put my heel into her chest and kicked her down. She hit the floor." Jackie paused. "Joe, I don't know what possessed me, but I jumped on her and started beating her with my Science book."

"That's a big fucking book."

"I know. I held it over my head with both hands and just banged her on the head with it. Her arms went up to block me, so I pounded her arms. 'Don't...You... Ever...Fuck...With...Me... Again...Bitch."

Joe was speechless imagining the mayhem in his mind.

"I lost my mind for like... twelve seconds."

"Were there teachers there?"

"Not at first. I sat on her, not letting her up, and then Mr. Brennan pulled me off her."

"Mr. Brennan?"

"Yeah. He held me back and I screamed at her, 'Stay away from me you big fat bitch. I'm a psycho... just like my brother."

"No fucking way!" Joe laughed. "You did not say that. I don't believe you."

"You can ask Wendy. She was there."

"Holy fucking shit. You're my hero. How do you feel?"

"Good. I can't wait to get back to school for the stares and whispers."

Joe laughed.

"I took that fake fall last week hoping Mr Reed would understand I was being bullied and maybe he wouldn't suspend me."