All The Young Punks Pt. 52 - The End

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"You had shakes for breakfast?" Jules asked, sipping her orange juice with a straw.

"That's one of the rules of breakfast club, you can have anything on the menu. Janie and I shared a piece of pie every time."

"Why didn't you invite Dad today?" Jackie asked.

"He's not ready. He told me that years ago and again last year. I don't think he can do it, not yet, and he feels bad about it. He's known Ricky his whole life." He pointed at the window between the counter and the kitchen. "The cook owns the place. He went to high school with Dad. Ricky just saw us come in. He knows who you are and he loved Janie. He went to the wake. When Dad is ready I told him I'd come with him to visit Ricky."

"What's this breakfast club you're talking about?" Jeanie asked.

"It starts with the four of us... if you pass the membership test."

"What's that?" Jules asked.

"There are two rules for breakfast club, the first is I must love you for you to be in my club."

"What's the other rule."

"I have to trust you."

Jackie smirked, "So I guess Julie's fucked."

"Shut up," Jules said. "I apologized and he accepted."

Joe smiled at Jackie and Jeanie across the table as he put his arm around Jules. He leaned over and kissed her hair.

"All sins are forgiven. You have a clean slate. I trust you don't want to be kicked out of another breakfast club. Dad kicked you and Jackie out of the first one because you always whined and fought."

Jules looked at Jackie. "She picked on me."

"Yes," Joe also looked at Jackie. "She did. Jackie was a brat."

"How does this club work?" Jackie asked as she set her coffee down.

"I'm leaving soon. You all know that by now, right?

The three girls nodded sadly.

"I promise I will always come home. I don't know how often, but I will always come home. Every time I do we will come here for breakfast or lunch, whatever works. It's just us, no one else is allowed unless I invite them."

"And you must love and trust them," Jeanie added.

"Yes."

"I guess Tina is out of your breakfast club?" Jackie smirked.

Jeanie elbowed her back. "Don't be mean."

"Yeah, she's banned. But Simon is in, wherever he is. He's the only other boy at the moment."

"You love Simon?" Jules asked.

"Yeah, I love all my friends, but I don't trust them all. Trust is tricky." Joe looked down at Jules, crossing his fingers for her to see. "Love and trust go together, they're connected, but they can be pulled apart." He separated his fingers. "You can love someone and not trust them. You can trust someone you don't love." He recrossed his fingers. "When you have both, that's the best, love and trust."

He stopped for a moment to drink some coffee. "It's time for you girls to grow out of this spying at ratting shit. Starting now. Can you do that?"

"I'll try," Jules said.

"I'll try too." Jeanie nodded.

"That's what you always say, all of you," he shook his head. "Then you rat."

"I'm not a rat," Jackie said under her breath.

Joe put his hand in the middle of the table. Jackie put her hand on his. Jeanie figured it out and added hers. Jules put hers on top.

"We kill Mom's spy network today," Joe said. "That's our breakfast club pact."

"I know Mom's been a lot nicer," Jackie noted. "but she still snoops and pries, just not as hard." She looked at Joe. "She reads your old notebooks. I caught her."

"Those will be boxed and hidden before I leave. Do you read them?"

"Yes," Jackie said first. "I have, but I felt crappy, so I stopped."

"Not me," Jeanie said with enthusiasm. "I don't snoop."

"Please," Joe said. "You all snoop."

All eyes went to Jules. "I read a few. You wrote something really terrible about Mom. It upset me, so I stopped."

"Pfft," Jackie scoffed. "Did you tell Mom?"

"No."

"Does everyone agree to the pact?" Joe asked.

All three nodded, "Yes."

The food arrived just as the breakfast pact was sealed. Joe watched Jeanie with her one pancake, one egg, and two strips of bacon. When she turned the bottle of Aunt Jemima over and let a long river of maple syrup spread over all items, Joe turned to Jackie.

"Does she do this at home?"

"Mom doesn't make pancakes much, but when she does, breakfast gets drowned in syrup."

Joe met Jeanie's eyes. "That's what Janie did every time." He leaned over the table and whispered. "This is getting creepy. You're just like her. Has Mom ever told you?"

"No." Jeanie pinched a piece of bacon with syrup dripping off between her fingers and took a bite.

He turned to Jackie. "Do you see it?"

"Yes, Joe, It's obvious. Mom won't even discuss it. Dad has acknowledged it, but that's all he'll say."

"I'm sorry about what I said the other day." Joe looked specifically at Jackie. The sister he trusted the most. "I can't say I didn't mean it when I said it. I had to have that thought to have said it. But I hate myself for saying it." He looked at Jules. "Please forgive me."

"What did he say?" Jeannie asked while plowing a bite of soggy pancake in her face.

Joe watched her eating, shaking his head.

Jackie noticed his reaction. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He looked Jackie in the eyes, intensely. "This is so fucked up, sis. You see it, right?"

"I see it every day, Joe. The never-ending questioning, the singing, and the dancing. Yeah, we all see it."

Joe glanced at Jeanie. "You can't sing and dance here. That would break me. But you can play something on the jukebox."

"Do you have any quarters?" Jeanie asked.

Joe had two quarters in his pocket but didn't say so. He stood up and motioned to Jeanie. She got up and he led her to the jukebox. Dozens of eyes followed them. He whispered in her ear. She looked up at him, the blonde, pixie waif of the family. Joe pretended to be looking at the jukebox selection as Jeanie spoke to the room, "Does anyone have a quarter?"

Within twelve seconds Jeanie had four-quarters in her hand and more coming as old men walked from across the end of the long train car-style diner. Joe held back his emotions as his eyes met the old men he knew from his childhood. Jeanie thanked each person with a smile, clueless of the weight of the moment. She was just having fun with her big brother... just like Janie.

Joe kissed the top of her head. "You play whatever you want." He walked back to the booth, feeling the eyes on him, and took his seat. After a bite of sausage link and a sip of coffee, while watching Jeanie press buttons on a jukebox, he said. "Every time we came here Janie would ask Dad for quarters. He would have some but not say so, and Janie would ask the room." He paused and looked at each sister in the eye. "And you just relived that memory with me. She scored at least a buck and a half every Saturday, put fifty cents in the jukebox, and pocketed the rest. Janie was a little shake-down artist."

The first song Jeanie played was Jethro Tull, Skating Away. Joe thought it was appropriate. Soon, he would be skating away on the thin ice of a new day.

Jeanie returned to the booth. "I like breakfast club," she smiled at Joe, her big goofy I love you smile. "You can trust me." She held her palm open. "I still have four quarters."

Joe pointed. "Finish your breakfast in the brown lake. We're gonna test everyone's trustworthiness, starting today."

Jeanie took a bite of pancake and scrambled egg, dripping. "What's the test?"

Joe looked at Jackie. She smiled. Joe nodded. "You can't tell Mom or Dad about breakfast club. This is a secret. You can never tell them we came here."

The look on Jules' face almost made Joe laugh. She was just given the ultimatum, the first test was a big secret. That was not all, Jules had one question.

"What do I tell them about today?"

Jackie took this one. "We all say we went downtown to Haven Brothers and then walked around Kennedy Plaza and Burnside Park."

As Jethro Tull faded, Joe listened for Jeanie's next selection. It was Killer Queen. He could have predicted that.

Joe glanced toward Jules. "You have to lie, and keep that a secret too."

Jules had expressive eyes. Asking her to keep a secret was a lot, even she knew it, but a lie was next level.

"We all know you lied to Mom," Joe said. "but we'll never tell, and you'll never tell, because then we'd tell. Do you see how that works?"

"Trust and lies," Jeanie said. "That's how it works."

"How do trust and lies go together?" Jules asked.

"I'll tell Mom I had an egg sandwich at Haven Brothers and I trust you won't tell Mom I lied," Jeanie smiled. "And it was delicious."

Joe looked around the table at mostly eaten breakfasts. Jules was picking at her eggs but had eaten the meat and potatoes. Jackie always cleaned her plate, like a horse. Jeanie looked up at Joe.

"What did you say the other day that you're so sorry for?"

Joe looked at Jackie. He didn't want to say it. Jackie took it, "He said, 'I have one sister I can trust, and she's dead."

Jeanie's lips puckered and her nose scrunched. "I'm glad I wasn't there. And I'm glad you're sorry for saying that."

Joe took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. "Do you girls want to share some pie for dessert?"

His sisters' smiles made the emotional visit worthwhile. They shared lemon meringue, cherry pie, and a brownie because Jules must have chocolate.

Before Joe settled his tab, Ricky Maldonado came out of the kitchen. Joe introduced him to the Theroux girls he didn't know so well. As they stood to leave Ricky said, "Tell your Dad I was asking about him."

Joe nodded. When they stepped outside he said, "We cannot tell Dad Ricky was asking..."

"Because we were never here," Jeanie finished his sentence with a smile.

.

.

--- THE ROAD TO NOWHERE ---

Joe had a difficult morning. His sisters were emotional as he threw his old canvas duffel bag and the proper suitcase he bought for the Euro trip into Ellie's truck. Jeanie pointed at a box stuffed off to the side of the trunk.

"What's that?"

"That's a stack of Young Punks records, every album. I'll probably leave them with a record shop along the way."

"And you're taking your acoustic guitar?"

"Yes." He closed the trunk, walked around, opened the door, and threw his leather backpack across the front seat.

Jules stepped closer and hugged him, "I'm gonna miss you."

"You've been missing me for years," Joe kissed her hair. "You can handle it. And I promise to come back."

Jeanie joined the hug. "You better. I love you."

"I love you too."

Jackie was last. She had no words, just a long embrace while the other two girls looked on. Then they joined the hug.

Joe looked up at Mom in the window. She said her goodbyes inside, but not until she made an eleventh-hour plea that Joe stay through Thanksgiving. He waved at her and got into his Cadillac. He rolled the window down, turned the key, and let the big block V-8 warm up, looking out at his sad siblings.

"Will you send me postcards?" Jeanie asked.

"Of course I will. I love you. Be good, sisters."

"Be good, brother," Jackie said.

He shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. The girls watched Ellie disappear down Vinton Street. Joe had tears before he reached I-95. He didn't know where he was going but he knew he wouldn't be back home for a while. He didn't dare express that thought to his family. He didn't know why he felt this. He just sensed it. Thankfully, no one asked about Christmas.

Before he journeyed on the road to nowhere, Joe had one final stop to make, a friend to thank. Unfortunately, that errand was in Brooklyn. He arrived at Gravesend in the middle of the afternoon.

"Hey," Eddie Bags smiled as Joe walked in. "It's the rockstar. How was Europe?"

"Old," Joe replied, "and cool. I loved Europe." Joe took a bar stool. "Can we talk?"

Eddie reached for a pint glass. Joe stopped him. "I can't. I have a long drive ahead of me."

"Okay. What can I do for you?"

"First I wanted to thank you for helping me out with our bands. That worked out quite well."

"I actually enjoy it. Some of these bands are damn good." Eddie reached for his wallet and produced a business card. He handed it to Joe.

"Yeah, Marty told me about this. I like it." He handed it back to Bags. It was a Guerilla Records card, the same as Joe's, except it had Edward Baglioni, Talent Manager.

"I offered The Knives and The Studs representation. I'm learning the ropes, and Marty has been a big help."

"Are the bands working out okay here... with your crowd?"

"Yes, and that one group, the Russian guy...." Eddie snapped his fingers trying to recall the name.

"Gregory Rasputin."

"Yeah. Those guys are fucked up. I honestly didn't think my punks would like them but they're so dark and weird they kinda grew on us."

"I call them Grim Tull."

"I might manage them. We'll see."

When Joe gave Eddie the news of his band being done, Bags took it in stride. "You'll be back," he pointed at Joe. "There's no fucking way you're done. We haven't heard the last of Joe Theroux. You're a natural-born hustler."

Joe left Gravesend via the Belt Parkway. At Fort Hamilton, he got on 278 over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, avoiding Manhattan. In the back of his mind, he had brief thoughts of stopping in Soho to say goodbye to Tina. Maybe two and a half months had softened her feelings about what happened. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to face the potential pain and humiliation. He pushed those ideas down.

On the bridge, with Staten Island and New Jersey ahead of him, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out business cards and scraps of paper. One had Kim's number. He glanced at the cards.

Tina Costello ~ Amethyst Gallery ~ Soho, New York.

As he reached the top of the span, he rolled his window down one quarter. Joe stuck his hand outside. The card flapped in the wind. He held it a short time, fluttering in his hand, then let go of the last five years of his life. It blew away, swirling in the woosh of passing cars, and floated on ocean winds to the channel below. Joe glanced north to the skyline of Lower Manhattan.

He looked at another card, Maya Thomas, EIC London. He put her card and Kim's number back in his inside breast pocket.

Crossing the Goethals Bridge he felt good. Joe felt good that he had built something in his previous life and that he was leaving Guerilla Records in capable hands. In New Jersey, he stopped at a tool booth to take a ticket for the Turnpike South with no destination in mind, searching for the rest of his life.

.

.

-- THE END --

Except it's not the end of Joe's tale. Punks is the continuation, seven years in the future. I've dropped some final author notes on this project and also what comes next.

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  • COMMENTS
4 Comments
SparksWillFlySparksWillFly30 days ago

Having finished reading all 51 chapters without break, I am impressed with your writing style and skill, but a little angry that so much is left hanging. But that’s life.

BodhiFBodhiFabout 2 months ago

I just finished reading the Young Punks series (after Punks) and I find myself in a dilemma - I selfishly enjoyed all the entire story without giving each chapter the five star rating it deserves. Now I have to either figure out a way to rate the entire series at once, or I have to go back and go to the last page of roughly 100 stories and rate them individually. Sigh. Guess I know what I'll be doing for the next several hours - you deserve the ratings.

By the way, for the erotica / non-erotica debate - I thought the sex scenes were well enough done, but I never noticed the lack of sex when it was missing. I guess that's my way of saying write what you're comfortable with and trust the people who care to embrace it either way.

Thank you for creating this world, and I look forward to an epic road trip to California - after you recover from the drama.

SlithyToveSlithyToveabout 2 months ago

Thanks for the wonderful ride. This was a great exercise in personal nostalgia, though my major and more intense times in these areas was just slightly later. My first NYC trip was to the NYU college area where I met John Cage, among others in the experimental music scene, slightly earlier than Joe's period in this story, but including some folks who produced records themselves. I did have connections to the punk scene, but more what came through the midwest, some truly open suitcase bands riding into and out of town, crashing with friends, and a number of people starting their own, some going somewhere, most going nowhere. And I have so many connections from just earlier in NYC, with the Warhol scene, and later, with the visual and performing arts scenes. Really nice to kind of relive that period of my life by proxy, and you are an excellent writer about relationships, so this has very much been a worthwhile ride. Now I'm off to read "Punks" and I very much look forward to what you come up with next! Thank you very much for sharing this with us all.

Lector77Lector77about 2 months ago

It's been a ____________…(pick an adjective) ride through many places and times of my youth.

My NYC episodes were in a different part of town, jazz and chamber music in the 60s and 70s, but there was enough in common to make this story feel at least a little autobiographical.

Thanks to a good author for storytelling worth anticipating and then savoring.

Once this hearty meal has settled, I guess I'll investigate the sequal, which like the Antelope Freeway is already in progress. “Oh, how can you be in two places at once….”

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