deadly nightshade | fever in, fever out

chapter 21: a man of many colors

"let's fall in love with music.
the driving force in our living.
the only international language,
divine glory, the expression,
the knees bow, the tongue confesses...
the lord of lords, the king of kings."
-"man of golden words", mother love bone

Joey led Sam over to the other side of the room once they had their cups of coffee in hand. They took their seats near the bathroom doors, far away from Cliff and the other boy Alex. The outside lights shone down on the crowns of their heads: Sam could make out sight of jet black hair atop Cliff's head, although when he tossed his hair back with a flick of his head, it disappeared. But that tiny ribbon of white on the right side of Alex's hair shone bright under those golden lights, even it being so small and slender. Through the shadows and the pane of glass, Sam could make out the sight of Alex's tummy poking out over his belt. She kept her eye on his lanky little body even as Joey returned to her with a muffin in hand.
"What'cha lookin' at?" he asked her as he took off the paper from the muffin stump.
"Alex," she quipped almost without thinking.
"He's pretty cool looking, isn't he?" Joey said with that lopsided smile upon his face. "Got that li'l white stripe at the top of his head and he just stands out to everyone, too."
"Marla, Aurora, and I were talking about his stripe not long ago and we were all just fascinated by it," she added.
"I think it's a birthmark," he suggested, "at least that's what I've heard."
"You don't think of the hair getting marked at birth," she pointed out, to which he shrugged as he picked off a piece of cranberry muffin and offered it to her. "Ooh, yes please." She took the piece and stuck it into her mouth. "Light and fluffy," she added.
"Still fresh from this morning," he remarked. "But yeah, that's what I've heard about that little thing is that it's a birthmark. I don't really know for sure—I'll admit I dunno much 'bout biology."
"I think it's interesting," she continued as she swallowed the bite of muffin and took a sip of coffee.
"I do, too," Joey admitted, but then he shuffled his weight; "I don't really like starin' at him, though, especially since he's still kind of a young buck. As far as I know, anyway. There's so much of this scene that's still a total unknown to me."
"Yeah. He looks—kind of uncomfortable right there." Behind the glass, Cliff chuckled at something and Alex dropped his gaze to the surface of the table before him with a nervous little smile on his face. Cliff said something and gestured towards him, and he shrugged at him, still with the nervous smile on his face. He set a hand on his little belly and he looked down at his waist and his thighs. Cliff said something and he replied with something else.
Cliff nodded his head and he stood to his feet: he then opened the door.
"I'll be right back—" he told Alex, who nodded at him as Cliff stepped into the coffee house. Sam showed him a pretty little wave and he winked at both her and Joey. She brought her gaze back over to Alex out there on the porch. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and gazed out to the darkness. A thoughtful look rested on his face, and she wondered what he was thinking right then.
Cliff asked the barista behind the counter for a couple of muffins; Sam returned to Joey, who took a hearty drink from his cup of espresso. She eyed his throat and his slender shoulders all the while, and she imagined herself drawing him some more for school. He set down the cup and nodded his head.
"Sometimes all ya need is a cup of espresso to get ya movin'," he declared.
"But it's nighttime, though," she pointed out.
"Better than a swig o' booze," he followed up.
"True. But still. I can't see how you could need to get moving at nighttime unless you work graveyard shift."
"But I do like this, though," he remarked with a nod of his head.
"What, drinking coffee at ten o'clock at night?"
"Yeah. There's something kinda—what's the word, quaint? About it."
Sam showed him a thoughtful little smile. She could understand where he was coming from with that, especially once she thought of her old life in California.
"Especially since we're in downtown New York City, too," she added when she brought her cup to her lips for a drink herself. She caught a whiff of the caramel on the inside.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cliff hovering near the pastry rack next to the cash register.
"I still owe you a trip upstate," Joey spoke before he took another sip of espresso.
"You still wanna take me up to Poughkeepsie?"
"Maybe," he quipped. "Or maybe I'll take ya up to where my parents still live at and where I grew up—outside of Syracuse. It's kind of a long drive, though. I'd haveta get a brand new car, too, y'know."
"One that won't catch fire," she joked.
"One that won't catch fire, right!"
Sam looked over at Cliff, still by the pastry rack next to the cash register. He had stuck his hands into his jeans pockets and he gazed on at the painting on the wall next to him. She returned to Joey, who kept his cup of coffee by his mouth and nose but he didn't take another drink from it.
"Just a bunch of thoughtful boys," she proclaimed.
"I'm just lookin' at that painting behind you," he said with a gesture of his head. Sam peered over her shoulder at the long framed painting of a city street lined with dark buildings. A few white horses trotted on the pavement.
"Every shop I've gone to here in the City is so cozy and comfy," she noted as she shook her shoulders a bit and returned to him; she caught another glimpse of Alex outside on the porch, but she had no idea what he was doing right then.
"That's the power of the City," he told her with a raise of his eyebrows. "Even I can say that."
"What's Syracuse like?"
"Nuthin' like the Big Apple. Nuthin' like it. It's funny, too—people often call it the donut, 'cause there's no inner city, like there's the freeway runnin' through the place in a circle and there's nothing else there. We also get snow at the weirdest times of the year."
"Carson City was like that," she said.
"Really?" He knitted his eyebrows together. "I don't think of Nevada as bein' like that."
"Snow when it's supposed to be summer," she continued. "In fact, come to think of it—New York City is kind of like both Vegas and Carson, and I picture Syracuse as being like Winnemucca or Elko, the latter is kinda down in a hole. A hole in the middle of the desert."
"Kinda—like a donut," Joey said with a nod of his head and the return of the lopsided grin. He offered her another piece of muffin and she took it for herself.
"Like a donut," she echoed with a smile on her face.
Meanwhile, Cliff thanked the barista and took a fresh pair of muffins for himself and Alex. Sam noticed the one in his right hand was double chocolate, and the chips had melted a little bit. She watched him walk back outside to the porch: Alex's face lit up at the sight of that chocolate one.
"Fresh out of the oven, so be careful—" Cliff's voice fell out with the door closing behind him. Sam turned back to Joey.
"Aw, man, you could've gotten a chocolate muffin for us," she said, to which he shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, well. This is pretty good, though."
"Oh, yeah. This is extra fresh." Joey took another sip of espresso and then he raised a finger to her.
"Sit tight, I gotta use the boys' room." He climbed to his feet and he made his way over to the little nook with bathroom doors next to them. Sam then turned her head to the right once again and she watched Alex eat up the chocolate muffin as if he was starving to death. Cliff said something to him and he eagerly nodded his head: a little curly lock of his jet black hair sprawled over his shoulder.
Sam flashed back on her old home life in California and Nevada, and she wondered, given he hailed from the West Coast himself, if he missed it at all. She felt at home in New York City but it was the very sight of him that made her think about the West Coast yet again. She wondered about him, more of his story there in the Bay Area. She was about to stand to her feet and walk out there to introduce herself to him, but before she could do anything, Joey emerged from the bathroom.
He gave his lush black curls a toss back from the side of his neck and he rubbed his hands together.
Sam caught that soft smell of soap on his skin.
"Ooh, that smells good," she complimented him.
"I try my best," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "I could take ya home but—y'know."
"You don't have a car anymore."
"I hope that'll change soon."
"But what're you gonna do, though?" she asked him.
"Frankie'll take me home," he reminded her.
"Oh, yeah, that's right!"
"Don't worry 'bout me," he assured her.
"I kinda do worry about you, though," she confessed, and Joey raised an eyebrow at her. Outside, Cliff burst out laughing at something. Sam turned her a bit: he clapped his hands at something while Alex had tilted his head back over the top of the chair. He still had some muffin stump left over.
She returned to Joey and his raised eyebrows.
"You worry about me," he almost whispered it.
"Well, especially after," she started but she hesitated to choose her words; "—the car burning up in broad daylight on the freeway. You getting drunk and puking your guts out after dinner. I kinda worry about you, Joey. You feel like a friend to me. My upstate friend." She lowered her gaze to his hands as they rested around his cup of espresso.
"Frankie and I were the first guys you met when you moved here after all," he pointed out in a soft voice.
"Yeah, you were! The very first New Yorker dudes I met. Frankie also met my parents."
"Frankie met your parents?" he chuckled at that.
"Yeah, he came over one day and my parents were in town then. It was a little awkward because he was one of the first New Yorkers I met and it was right after I moved here, so they were like 'wow, that was quick.' And yeah, my landlord Emile doesn't count—he's from New Orleans."
"Love New Orleans," Joey said with a nod of his head. "You ever been there?"
"I haven't, no."
"The next time Anthrax goes out on a big ass North American tour and one of the stops is New Orleans, you oughta join us."
"I'd have school, though," she pointed out. "School plus Stormtroopers of Death and Metallica."
"Busy lady."
"Better than doin' nothin'."
"Better than doin' nuthin', yeah. Tell you what—" Joey glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. The barista had disappeared into the back room while Cliff and Alex stayed outside: they were alone in there. "—when I get a new car, I'll come get ya and I'll take ya upstate with me. To Syracuse."
"Beautiful Syracuse," she declared.
"Beautiful Syracuse on a lake and a forest—we'll go out to Lake Ontario, too, where my parents still live and where I grew up. Under one condition, though." He finished off the rest of his muffin right then.
"What's that?"
He swallowed it down and cleared his throat. "It's not a date."
"No, it's not," she said. "I mean, you and I both said it ourselves the other night: I'm not your girlfriend."
"And I'm not your boyfriend," he added.
"If anyone asks, I'll tell them that we're just friends."
"Doubt anyone'll ask."
"What makes you think that?"
"I just doubt it. Don't really see it happening."
"What if someone calls me your girlfriend?" she asked him.
"We'll give 'em that logic." He flashed her a wink. Those big brown eyes were clear and bright from the espresso: indeed, he tipped the cup back and finished off the rest of the coffee. "C'mon—let's go see if Frankie's willin' to take the both of us home."
"I think Aurora's giving me a ride," she recalled.
"Okay." They both stood to their feet at the same time, and Sam picked up her cup and adjusted the strap of her purse. Joey held the door for her and they stepped out to the front porch. Alex had made his way over to the sidewalk while Cliff stood at the railing with a cigarette in hand.
"You guys headed out?" he asked them; he stuck it into his lips.
"Yeah, I'm hitchin' a ride with Frankie," Joey replied as he brought his cup of coffee closer to his chest.
"Will we see you again?" Sam asked Cliff.
"You might be seein' me sooner than you think," he promised her as he reached into his jeans pocket for a lighter. She pressed on to the sidewalk as if she was walking after Alex: Joey lingered close to her as they reached the dark street. Aurora strode out of the door with the bouquet of tulips Cliff had given Sam: the yellow petals stood out even in darkness.
"Wonder where Frankie and Danny went off to," Joey muttered under his breath.
"Alex!" Sam turned her head to the right, and she spotted a little white van posted up at the corner. The back door slid open and she spotted Greg there in the back part of the van. She watched Alex as he sank down into the back seat of the van. Even in the darkness, she spotted that white sliver on his head as he took his seat. It was the last thing she saw before Greg slid the door shut and Legacy drove off into the darkness.
"Let's get outta this dark street," Joey advised her, and he set a hand on her shoulder. Sam glanced back at Joey and the gentle expression on his face. Even in the darkness, she could still make out the clear look of his brown eyes. She hoped his eyes would stay clear as a bell like that more often as they crossed the street towards Aurora and Marla.