CHAPTER 12
Nick's funeral that sunny summer afternoon wasn't all that bad, not as bad as Kruschev dropping the Bomb on us. Cars were parked for two blocks around the little church, and the crowd spilled out the front door. Girls I'd never seen were red-eyed and snuffling and a few guys even had tears in their eyes. Nick's Aunt Velma wore a black veil and moved woodenly, like a sleepwalker, supported at both elbows by her friends.
I almost laughed when I remembered Ricky's observation just a few days ago from the German philosopher who said that anything that didn't kill you made you stronger.
In a strange reversal of roles that evening G & G encouraged me to go to the Top Deck. They knew I had been looking forward all week to going, but I moped around morosely all afternoon and felt so dismal that after dinner I called Ricky to tell him I'd changed my mind about going. Grandpa heard and took me out on the back porch and talked to me about life and death and friends and growing up. It was the longest speech I'd ever heard him make, and I felt a little better, if only because of the effort he was making on my behalf, and I called Ricky back and he and Kenny came over to pick me up an hour later.
Kenny had a new windshield and a new headlight that his dad had paid for in his car. The hood was still dented and we were finding pieces of broken glass all over the place, but we were all real glad to have his heap running again. It wasn't much, but Kenny liked it and it was our only means of transportation.
They didn't feel any better than I did, but we kidded each other and blasted the radio, singing along with the music, on the way over to Bloomburg and by the time we got there we had manufactured an ersatz party mood for ourselves. We parked in the back of the lot across from the Top Deck and had a couple of nips from Kenny's bottle of Southern Comfort. Some of Ricky's and Kenny's friends pulled in next to us and we had a beer with them.
There were a bunch of motorcycles parked next to the door, as usual, and I wondered how many of them belonged to the Caretakers. I supposed at least some of them had gotten out on bail by now. There were probably twenty or thirty Caretakers in all, and only eleven had been arrested.
We paid our buck to get in and lit cigarettes and began cruising the place, checking out the chicks. It was packed; kids were wall-to-wall, the music was loud, everybody was rockin'. There was Shauna, at the refreshment counter selling Coke and popcorn. She had on a blue wrap-around skirt and a white twist blouse with ruffles at the wrists and neck. Her black hair shimmered and she had a blue bow in it. Man, she looked fine. There was a long line at her station, but I got her attention for half a second and she smiled at me.
"Man, I think you're gettin' somewhere with her," Ricky said, jabbing me in the ribs.
"I wish," I said.
"You're the only guy I've ever seen her talk to since Rod left."
"She really knocks me out."
"Yeah."
"Is she really supposed to be engaged to that guy? She's kinda young for that."
"I guess. But all her older sisters got married young."
"Yeah, you should see her sisters," Kenny said. "Janice and Crystal. Christ, what bitchin' babes!"
"Yeah, they're pretty famous," Ricky said. "But they were just like Shauna, dated one or two real clean-cut guys and then, boom, married and settled down."
The Teen Tones was the band again tonight. They were playing a Duane Eddy song, and I moved a little closer to the stage so I could get a better look at the guitar player's fingers as he played. Geez, if I could only do that. What I really needed was a better guitar. Maybe if I could play some stuff for Dad he would help me out a little. Like, maybe he would buy me a new Stratocaster and a Twin Reverb amp.
Some of the Caretaker were leaning against the wall. The younger ones, not the ones who'd been at Mandrake's the other night. Maybe they'd be into the same shit in a couple of years, though. They had some girls with them and looked like they were having a pretty good time while their brothers were in jail. Blade was there, dancing with a black-haired girl with huge hoop earrings and a tattoo of a spiderweb on her shoulder. I wondered if he and Crump would get along tonight. I hadn't seen Crump, but I had seen his car in the parking lot.
"Hey, I'm gonna go talk to Daniels, over there," Ricky said. "See what's goin' on with Dover and company. Be right back." Daniels was one of the Caretakers, a bony dropout with long sideburns and a mess of keys dangling from his wide leather belt. Ricky walked over to talk to him and Kenny and I watched the chicks dance.
"Mmmm, lookit Dodie," Kenny said, licking his lips.
"Yeah, boy," I said. Dodie Moss, Crump's girl friend, dancing with some other girls. She was looking real good in a short plaid skirt.
"Gentlemen! Greetings!" It was Joey Milner, AKA Albert, like in Einstein. He sidled up to us, peering through his glasses.
"Hey, Albert. Whaddya say?" Kenny said.
"I see you two priapic personages are perusing the pussy," he said with a straight face.
"Is that what he sees?" Kenny asked me, laughing.
"If he says so," I said.
"Enjoying your stay?" Albert asked me.
"It's been pretty exciting," I said.
"Yes, quite a crime wave we've been having."
There was a barefoot girl in cut-off jeans and a red checkered shirt dancing near the bandstand. She had green eyes and luscious red lips and great legs. I asked Kenny if he knew her.
"Yeah. Sharon Miller. Goes with the guitar player up there."
Ah ha! Guitar players do so well!
Albert pointed out a little blonde that had "very well-developed gastrocnemius muscles", wherever they were, and we were commenting on her and her various anatomical parts when Ricky came back.
"Well, whaddya hear?" Kenny asked.
"Dover's still in intensive care. He's gonna live, they think, but he might be paralyzed."
"No shit?"
"Bullet in the spine."
"Damn, he looked deader'n hell the other night layin' on my hood," Kenny said.
"Tough bastard," Ricky said.
"It's in the genes," Albert said.
"What's in his jeans?" Kenny asked.
"Shuddup, Kenny," Ricky laughed.
"So what's with the rest of the Caretakers?" I asked.
"Couple are out on bail, but most of 'em are still in jail..."
"Hey, he's a poet and don't know it," Kenny said, laughing and making a face.
"Yeah, Longfellows," Albert giggled, pointing at Ricky's feet.
Ricky shook his head and looked sadly at me, like he was so dejected about his two sub-normal friends. "Doesn't look too good for 'em, either," he continued. "Cops found all kinds of shit - guns, dope, stolen motorcycle parts, and even a damn machine gun. Mandrake got arrested, too, but he's out. Claims he didn't know what they were doin' back there."
"Anybody from Siri's organization get arrested, I wonder?" I asked, watching the girl in the cut-offs. She looked pretty damn sexy without her shoes.
"I guess not. They can't really pin anything on anybody yet. They're tryin' to hush up the drug connection with the Caretakers."
"What about Lanny?"
"He's the one who ratted. He's loose."
"I bet the Caretakers are plenty pissed off at him."
"And Siri's guys."
"Supposed to be a contract out on him, " Rick said.
"No shit!"
"Nobody's seen him; he's layin' pretty low, " Ricky said.
"He better."
"I wouldn't want to be him, man."
A couple guys came up and said they'd heard about the Caretakers' bust and wanted the story first-hand, so Kenny went into this big story about it, exaggerating everything, and Ricky and I giggled at each other listening to Kenny make a hero out of himself. He made it sound like he'd blocked Dover's escape with his car. There'd be a contract out on his ass if he keeps this story up, I thought.
I had my eye on Shauna the whole time, watching her work. Debbie was at a bridal shower for a friend of her sister's, and she wasn't sure if she was going to make it out to the Top Deck tonight or not, and I was wondering if I had any chance of getting to know Shauna a little better. I didn't know what I wanted, really, maybe just a chance to be alone with her and listen to music and talk or something. I guess I really wanted to put my arms around her and tell her how beautiful I thought she was. I didn't want to grope her in the back seat of Kenny's car. Not that I thought I could. She wasn't like that. She was the kind of girl you thought about marrying, and I imagined bringing her home to meet my Mom and Dad. I bet Grandma would even like her. She was the kind of girl they wrote songs about - hell, half the songs on the radio seemed to be about her. I'd watch for a chance to talk to her later on. I would tell her how wonderful she was, and she would tell me how goofy I was.
When Kenny got done with his big story we made a circuit and went in to the rest room for another snort. I was feeling pretty good, the alcohol was masking the moribund gloom of Calhoun and I thought I might even dance if the opportunity presented itself.
We found Connie, the chick Ricky had been with last week, with a couple of her friends at a table by the bandstand and we went up to say hi. Connie was a little mad that Ricky hadn't called, but she got over it pretty quick when Ricky got her out on the dance floor. She had a friend named Rachel and I danced with her a little. She was pretty good looking, but she wouldn't stop talking, and she rattled away in my ear about clothes and TV and her parents and school the whole time we were dancing. We were only on the dance floor for about three or four minutes, but I knew everything about her, or everything I wanted to know. Actually, more than I wanted to know.
I tried to keep out of Shauna's sight while we were dancing. Like it would really make a difference. Would it? Hell, she was engaged, wasn't she?
Finally the line at the refreshment stand went down and I went over to talk to her. She smiled when she saw me and gave me a Coke on the house when her boss wasn't looking.
"Thanks. How ya doin'?"
"Fine. Enjoying the music?"
"Sure."
"You told me you didn't dance," she said, sticking her lower lip out.
"Well, not much."
"You looked like you were doing pretty well over there."
Oh, shit, I thought. "Just a friend of my cousin's."
"Your cousin seems to have a lot of friends." She was smiling at me.
"Yeah, I guess." I grinned back at her. "You girls get home OK the other night?"
"Oh, sure. Mary Lou always goes home early. She's on the honor roll, y'know."
"Dino's is a pretty neat place."
"I don't go there much." Then she frowned. "Wasn't that awful about Nick Palladino?"
"Yeah."
"Wasn't he a friend of yours?"
"Yeah."
"Did you go to the funeral?"
"Yeah."
"Gee, I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice. "It makes me want to cry."
She had to get a Coke and some popcorn for a customer. She handed him his change and turned back to me. "I wonder why he went in that night club and shot that man?"
"The only thing I can figure out is that it might have had something to do with his sister's death."
"What makes you think that?"
"I don't know. Just that his sister worked for Siri, and he was selling dope - you heard about the Caretakers getting arrested the other
night?"
"Yes," she nodded.
"Well, one of the cops told us that it was a drug bust, that Siri and The Caretakers were in the dope business together." I felt real important telling her this classified information.
"Oh."
"And maybe Carol knew something about the drugs or something and Siri wanted her out of the way. It's just a theory."
"It's awful."
"Yeah." I wanted to change the subject. "Say, you sure look good tonight. I like your outfit."
"Really? Thanks. I got this at the new shopping center."
"You look good in blue."
Then the band took a break and a bunch of hungry customers came up and she had to go back to work. All you could hear for a minute was people talking and shuffling their feet and then the jukebox started up, booming out a Fats Domino song, and I went back to where I had left Ricky and Kenny.
Ricky had been dancing with Dodie Frog when I left. He wasn't around now, and I asked Kenny where he went.
"Out to my car, man," he giggled.
"Oh, shit," I said. There was Joe Crump, sauntering toward us dressed in white jeans and a sweater with his wrestling letter on it. "He better get back soon."
Crump swaggered and said hi to a few people. He had tape on the right earpiece of his glasses from the fight with Blade last week.
Just then I saw Ricky stick his head in the front door. When he saw Crump he ducked back outside. Then when Crump was looking the other way, here comes Dodie waltzing in like nothing was going
on. She patted her hair and went into the ladies' room. Ricky walked in casually a minute later and joined us.
"What'chou been doin'?" Kenny laughed.
"Oh, you know," Ricky said.
"Shit, that was close," I said.
"More exciting that way, Cuz."
"Yeah, you'd be excited if Crump got a hold of you."
Just then Crump walked up and clapped Ricky on the back and said: "How ya doin'?"
Ricky said he was doing great.
"Crazy bastard," Ricky muttered when he'd gone. "Threw a beer can at me one night and now we're buddies."
"Didja get some?" Kenny asked, pawing Ricky's arm. "Huh? Didja?"
"Aaah, we just fooled around a little," he said, grinning.
"She wouldn't letcha?"
"Yeah, she would, but she told me not to tell you!"
"Me?"
"She said I could tell anybody but you."
"Huh? She doesn't even know me - hey, don't be a smart-ass."
The band started back up again and we made another circuit and went into the men's room and finally killed the bottle. I was getting a little high, now, and I felt great, though my lips were a little numb. We saw Crump and Dodie together. She winked at Ricky behind his back.
"If he only knew," Ricky giggled, polishing his fingernails on his shirt front.
Rachel tried to teach me how to do the Mashed Potato, but I was really an idiot when it came to learning dances, and everyone had a great time laughing at me. I think I had a mental block about dancing, or something. I knew it would improve my social life, but I still hated it. Maybe because of the dancing school my parents had made me go to when I was about thirteen. We all had to wear suits and learn ballroom dancing or whatever it was called. They had this real square music, Guy Lombardo or something, and we had to bring a damn corsage for our partner to wear and I usually got stuck with some goofy girl taller than me with braces and sweaty hands. So I just wasn't much of a dancer, and I would just have to live with that sad fact and try to make some kind of a social life for myself anyway. Besides, I had seen James Brown dance, and that was the way to dance, and I knew I could never do that.
When Shauna closed up shop toward the end of the night I went over and asked her if she would dance a slow one with me. She looked up anxiously into my eyes and said she didn't know if she should. But when the Teen Tones went into "Cherry Pie" I took her into my arms anyway and we began swaying slowly back and forth in the dark by the refreshment counter. After a moment she relaxed and put her head on my shoulder and moved with me. She felt fragile and dainty in my arms and I grinned when I thought about her wrestling with that goofball Roger the other night.
I'd been looking around nervously for Debbie, but she was nowhere in sight, and when the band quit I asked Shauna if she needed a ride home, and she said she lived only three blocks away, and I said that's OK, we could give her a ride, anyway.
She gazed at me thoughtfully through her black lashes and frowned a little. "I really shouldn't. I'm engaged, you know."
"Aah, just a ride," I said, wheedling.
"I shouldn't be riding around with another boy," she said, sounding like she kind of wanted to ride around with another boy. "Besides, my Dad would have a fit if I came home in a car full of guys."
"Well, what if I walk you home?"
"What about your ride?"
"They'll wait for me." Surely Debbie wouldn't show up this late.
"Well... OK," she smiled.
So I went over and told Ricky and Kenny what I was doing and they slapped me on the back and wished me luck and said they'd wait for me and out the door I went with Shauna Hughes, the most beautiful girl in the world.