deadly nightshade | fever in, fever out

chapter 24: yellow tulip

"I can't believe that," Zelda groaned.
It was ten minutes before Legacy was about to take to the stage, and Zelda had to take a seat behind their set to better take in the news. Sam, Marla, and Aurora had been there all day in anticipation of her and also Metallica's arrival in the audience. There was already a small crowd that congregated out there, but they needed a moment alone, away from the noise. She rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers and closed her eyes. Her black hair blanketed the side of her face so Sam and Aurora couldn't see into her eyes.
"I can't—fucking—believe that," she muttered in a broken voice.
"It's okay—he's gonna be in good hands with Exodus," Aurora promised her; after Marla had said about them, Sam knew her words only came to soothe the feeling.
"Yeah, I mean—" Sam hesitated in search of the right words. "—it's like he's dead, too, Zelda. He's just gonna be in another room. Maybe he'll be right next door to them."
"It's not gonna be the same, though," Zelda insisted as she raised her head. "It's just—not gonna be the same without him." She shook her head and rested her sinewy elbows upon her slender knees. Sam rested a hand on her shoulder: even though her black hair spread across part of her face, she could see the disappointment in Zelda's eyes.
"We'll have to enjoy every last minute, then," she remarked.
"It's the only way, you know," Sam pointed out.
"It really is," Aurora chimed in.
"Every last minute of Zetro's singing," Zelda said in a soft voice, "every last note—every last part of it. Just right there. Just right within my ears."
Without another word, she climbed to her feet so she could look at both Sam and Aurora in the eye. She tucked a lock of jet black hair behind her ear: those eyes were dry and yet Sam could see it within her. She also noticed a little orange ear plug tucked snugly right in her ear.
"Let's go see them," Zelda declared, "you ladies have protection?"
Aurora reached into her shorts pocket and took out a handful of those same orange ear plugs, and Sam took two for herself. Once they were closed off from the loud noises of the world, Zelda led the way to that one part of the floor, right front of the stage. Louie had already taken his seat behind the drum kit, and his jet black hair shone under the soft golden light of the overhead lights. He held his drum sticks down behind his snare drum, out of sight. He flashed Zelda a thumbs up and she nodded at him in return. Sam huddled closer to her so she could see his youthful little face in between his yellow hi-hat and the raggedy toms.
Greg emerged from the left side of the stage with his bass already slung over his shoulder: he almost somersaulted into his spot in front of the three girls, and it made Aurora burst out laughing at him.
"Do that again and we'll vote on it," Zelda called out to him, and Louie burst out laughing. Eric surfaced from the left side, followed by Zetro and then Alex. Zetro made his way to the microphone in the middle of the floor: he glanced about the floor before him with a twinkle in his eye. Sam then felt a tap on her shoulder: she turned her head only to be met with Marla waving at her.
"Oh, hey!" Sam greeted her.
"Nice little crowd we got here," he remarked: his voice echoed throughout the tiny club. "Better than it has been lately, too." Sam brought her gaze over to Alex, who had picked up a little black guitar and adjusted the strap so it was closer to his chest.
"Anyways, we are Legacy," Zetro continued, "buncha California dudes who walked right out of a Bela Lugosi movie opening for our pals Anthrax here in their home turf. This song is called 'Over the Wall'." Sam could hear it in his voice: he was ready to make his exodus.
Eric took one step forward and let his fingers do the talking. Alex joined in like clockwork; Greg's bass thundered through the floor and all through Sam's bones. His bass tone was big and heavy that it made her bones rattle, as if he tickled her. Louie put his head down such that his black hair sailed behind his head like the tentacles of an octopus. Zetro held onto the microphone stand and pinched his eyes shut.
The three of them were met with a wall of sound, such that Aurora huddled closer to Sam and Zelda. It wasn't as big as it could be but Sam knew they could play in a much larger venue from that point on out. Marla stepped her way through the little bit of crowd towards her left side. Within time, she leaned in closer to her, and Sam realized she was looking at something.
"His guitar is too big for this room." Even with the ear plugs in, Sam could still hear Marla say that, and she brought her face closer to follow her gaze. She lowered her eyes onto Alex and then she took a glimpse over at Marla, who watched him with stars in her eyes and her expression in awe of him. Sam kept her gaze fixated on his long slender fingers on the frets. He moved about the strings so slowly and yet the sound he made with them was indeed so big and vast. It was as if he painted on canvas with the very sound of the guitar.
From there, she knew this young boy was an artist.
He raised his head and flipped his little fine black curls back away from his face, and the tiny gray sliver shone bright under the lights: a little pearl the size of a nickel up against the helmet of black about his head. He bowed his head again in time for his solo.
"He's just too big for the room," Sam followed up, which in turn brought a laugh out of Marla. She watched him in awe as his fingers switched about the nylon strings like little baby eels. He played as though he was about to make a king cobra rise up through the floor boards next to him. He never moved from his stance there on the floor but he did kick his hair back with a flick of his head. He let his tongue slither out from between his lips, much like a snake.
Zetro stepped forward and belted into the microphone yet again.
Marla turned her head to Sam to show her the twinkle in her eyes.
"He's going to go far playing like that," Marla remarked, and she sounded a mile away. "Sixteen year old baby and it looks and sounds like he's been playing for twice that long!"
"Kinda makes you want to see more from him, doesn't it?" Sam asked her over Zetro's shrieking, to which Marla nodded at her. Zelda reached her hands out to him as if about to touch him. Louie hit the big cymbals and Zetro leaned forward to give her a high five.
The next one was "Alone in the Dark", and a song whereby Alex bowed his head and led the way. He moved forward just like Eric in the previous one and he stood right next to Zetro.
Aurora turned her head to Sam and Marla.
"I like this one," she declared over the wall of sound.
"I do, too," Sam replied right in her ear. "Even though it's still real hard and fast, there's something weirdly innocent about this song."
"It's like a fantasy novel," Marla added. Zelda nodded her head along with Louie's steady drumming: every so often, he glanced over at her and nodded along with her. Greg stood at the edge of the stage with his head bowed so he gazed down at the four girls. A pocket of Alex's dark hair cast a shadow over his head and shoulders so they could hardly see his face or the little sliver at his forehead. He had turned away from the crowd by the time he let out his solo. He stood there, with his legs spread apart and his head bowed, like a little wizard who created something for the audience to drink up, to help open their minds.
Legacy played one more song before Zetro blew a kiss to the crowd and Zelda reached out to him yet again, that time to take his hand. He mouthed something to her but Sam couldn't hear him over the orange pieces nestled in her ears.
Alex disappeared into the shadows before anyone could grab his attention, and Louie and Greg hustled after him. Eric was the only one who lingered behind with his guitar leaned against the speaker for a ribbon of distorted feedback.
"So dark and violent!" Aurora joked, and the feedback abruptly stopped, which allowed the noise of the crowd to flow over them.
Within a few minutes, Charlie emerged from the shadows and took a seat behind the drum kit. Frank followed with his big black bass over his shoulder, and then Dan with his shirt on his head and a white flying V over his little bare body. Scott and Joey rounded them out, the latter of whom waved at the four girls down below with both hands and a big goofy smile plastered on his face. Sam noticed a wide silvery metal bracelet on his right wrist.
"We're home, New York!" Scott proclaimed through the microphone, and he hustled over to the right side of the stage for his guitar.
"The boys are back in town!" Joey shouted into the microphone head. "The boys are back in the fucking town!" Sam gazed on at Joey's slender body as he held onto the stand with his left hand and the microphone itself with his right. It was then she had an idea. She turned to Aurora and gestured at her purse.
"Do you have your camera?" she asked her, to which Aurora shook her head.
"Not on me, no," she replied in a muffled voice.
"Ah, damn it—" Sam was cut off by Scott's grinding guitar in front of them. She recognized that riff. It was the song they played for her the first time! She clapped her hands and almost jumped for joy right then. Charlie's drums pounded so hard that it knocked the wind out of her. Frank's bass rumbled like an earthquake. Dan's guitar screeched into the room, the same vastness and power as Alex's guitar.
And then there was Joey. His high operatic voice filled up the place, such that Sam found herself breathless by that addictive chorus: "it's a madhouse!" She tried to sing along but her voice vanished into the wall of sound before them. She could feel the crowd behind them moving and pulsating about.
"We're at the very edge of the mosh pit!" Zelda shouted. "Holy shit—ow!" Someone's sandaled foot beaned her right in the back of the head.
"Oh, damn, you alright?" Aurora yelled back to her; Sam couldn't hear her, and thus she returned to Joey. His black curls streamed behind his head even though there was no breeze in there. He was like a dark prince, a man of shadow straight out of the cavernous woods of upstate New York. If Alex was the sorceror, Joey was the man in the castle.
The curls atop his head even resembled to that of a crown.
Scott stomped about in his big black Doc Marten boots, and his thick black hair covered his face so Sam couldn't see his thick eyebrows. Meanwhile, Dan stood off to the left with his face serene and the little light tufts of hair standing on end like a crown itself. Every so often, Frank flicked his head back so his hair sailed up and then landed back down on his shoulders. He pointed at Marla, who cheered back at him and he showed her a big grin.
Legacy were fierce, dark, and poetic, but Anthrax were bright and colorful despite their own darkness as well. And much like the set before them, they only played three songs, the last of which Joey leaned back and brought the microphone to his lips and let out the longest, highest note Sam had ever heard from him. He did it a few times, the last of which was so high that she could see his stomach muscles tightening up under his shirt and a wave of chills swept over her. Aurora and Marla gaped at each other and Zelda shouted "oh my fucking god!" at the top of her lungs.
He was like an opera singer: this little dark skinned Indian boy with a voice straight out of the Italian opera. He held the microphone stand away from his body so he stood there with his arms spread out in a crucifix shape. The wall of sound around them was utterly deafening, and Sam was a part of it all.
The noise. The feeling. The standing right there at the edge of the mosh pit with her girl friends. There was nothing like it.
The four girls bustled past the railing and made their way after the five of them into the backstage area, away from the crowd and away from the energy behind them. Frank clapped his hands and Dan gave his hair a toss back.
Sam took the plug out of her right ear and brought a hand to it given the sharp sound around her.
"Oh, jesus," she muttered.
"You alright?" Dan asked her.
"More than alright," she replied, and she looked into his sparkling eyes. She realized she never really spoke much to Dan.
"Good show, and I'm glad you girls could make it, too!" Frank declared.
"There was no way we could miss this," said Marla as she took out her ear plugs.
It was right then Sam realized something was missing.
"Wait a minute, Cliff never showed," she said in a broken voice.
"Yeah, he did," Frank told her. "Louie said he and James were both near the back. I saw him, too. By the looks of it, it looked like he was lookin' for you, too. He was dressed real nice."
"Aw!" Sam's heart skipped several beats right then.
"Better go catch him, Sam," Frank continued as he ran his fingers through his lush hair, "he looked a little disappointed." He broke a little bit of a smile at her when he said that. And without another word, Sam doubled back to side of the stage.
"We'll be back here!" Marla called after her. She rounded the corner to find most of the crowd had dissipated back outside, and Cliff's wide brimmed hat was nowhere to be found. Sam stepped outside in search for him. Night had fallen over Brooklyn, but the street lights cast that orange light that she knew what to look for through the darkness.
Nowhere to be seen. She fetched up a sigh and she walked past a man with a blunt full of marijuana and a girl across from him, right there on the sidewalk. She peered around the corner to the dark alleyway. No one there.
She doubled back through the cloud of pot smoke and peered around the corner that time. Still no one there. Sam stood there on the sidewlk with her hands pressed to her hips.
Maybe he was all the way around the other side. Indeed, she returned back inside of the club, across the empty floor in search of him. She pushed open those doors, only to be met with more orange light and nobody on the sidewalk.
"God damn it," she groaned. "Shit..." She doubled back into the club and returned to the little nook of a backstage area. Zelda, Aurora, and Marla all had taken their seats on a lumpy couch pressed against the wall and Dan and Frank were helping themselves to cups of water.
"D'you find him?" Marla asked her, to which she shook her head.
"Oh, man!" Frank declared. "I'm sorry, Sam."
"Nah, it's alright," Sam told him, "I was just so caught up in the moment that I forgot he told me he was gonna be here." She peered about the nook. "Where's Joey, Scott, and Charlie?"
"In the next room," Dan replied as he handed her a little cup of water. "Joe's dunkin' his head in ice water, and Scott and Charlie are getting things to eat."
"The dudes from Legacy just bounced, too," Frank added. "Just got in their van and boogied—so you just missed them, Zelda. Something about getting to Jon and Marsha's house before they turn it in for the night, and Louie getting back to the building before the doors lock, or some shit, I forget."
"Zetro told me to meet up with him tomorrow," Zelda replied as she ran her hand over the back of her head, "at least that's what I think he said to me." She groaned and grimaced at the feeling. "I got kicked in the head."
"Yeah, I saw that!" Dan told her; Sam took her seat on the arm of the couch next to Marla.
"I'm a drummer, though," Zelda insisted. "I can take a lot before it really gets to me."
"A drummer paying Louie Clemente's rent," Frank joked, and the bunch of them laughed. Right then, Joey stumbled into the room, with his black curls soaked wet and his dark lips twisted into a tight grin.
"Hey, there are my girls!" he said in a loud voice.
"Joey, I had no idea you sang like that," Sam declared.
"You should hear him in a bigger place," Frank told her. "He just sings to the heavens."
Joey made his way over to the couch and took a seat right next the arm: he sat right in front of Sam with his slender legs crossed. His black curls glistened from the ice cold water in the next room, and a single droplet trickled down the side of his face. She could already smell the hops from the beer on his breath.
"I'm so glad we could get here," he said to her with a few little breaks in his voice.
"Get here in a new car no less," she pointed out.
"I'm gonna need you to drive, too," he stated with a flat look on his face.
"Not a problem," she answered with a shake of her head and a shrug of the shoulders. "I can totally do that."
"As long as you don't barf," Zelda pointed out.
"I'd be more worried about Scott and Billy barfin' while in the car," Dan told her before he took a sip of water. "Joe just has kind of—sort of—a little bit of a hard time holding down his liquor."
Sam thought about the few times she had seen Joey drink and let it overcome him. She wondered how much he had took in just then, and she frowned at the very thought, especially after her feeling down his body and his hair. He was soft to the touch, and the booze seemed to take that away from him. She didn't want to fix him, but she wanted to find a way to get him away from that lest something happen to his little body.
Charlie called Joey, Frank, and Dan into the next room: he had pushed back his curls from his face, and thus showed off the fine beads of sweat under his eyes and along his forehead.
"Marla's man was workin' extra hard tonight," Aurora remarked.
"Yeah, I was!" he said with a twinkle in his eye. "It was—being here, being back home in New York and at L'Amour." He shrugged his fine shoulders. "I just had to go hard and fast tonight."
Joey tried to stand to his feet by himself but he almost lost his balance and fell right on the seat of his skinny jeans. He giggled and extended a hand to Dan and Sam, both of whom helped him up. He raised a finger at her.
"I'll be—" he hiccuped, "—I'll be right back."
Sam returned to her spot on the arm of the couch and she watched him stagger after Dan and Frank into the next room.
"Can't hold his liquor," Marla recalled.
"I know," Sam said, thoughtful, "I once told him I don't really like the idea of him drinking so much because it can do a number on him."
"Oh, yeah." Marla nodded her head at her.
"I'm also gonna have to call Cliff tonight, too. That just kills me."
"In your defense, Sam, we were all in the heat of the moment," Zelda pointed out as she ran her fingers through her black hair. "I missed Zetro by about twenty minutes."
"And that was just because they had to go," Aurora chimed in.
"They had to go and I'm gonna have to talk to Louie, too..."
Joey returned with a red cup in hand and a smile on his face.
"You wanna go home, don't ya?" Sam asked him.
"Go home and take a shower," he replied as he guzzled down whatever was in the cup. He gave his black curls a toss back and kept the smile firmly plastered across his face.
"You just got your hair wet," Aurora pointed out.
"That ain't a shower, though!" he chuckled as he took one last swig of it. Sam stood to her feet and adjusted the bottom of her shirt.
"I'll see you ladies later," she said.
"I just might have a new hair color when you see me again," Marla told her with a wink.
Sam and Joey returned outside, where they were greeted by not only another cloud of pot smoke but the aroma of sage burning.
"Yow-za," he blurted out as they walked past that little circle on the sidewalk. Sam led him through the darkness back to his car, where he almost collapsed right into the front seat. She took her spot in the driver's seat and held still. The silence in the car made her ears ache a bit.
"You got the key?" she asked him.
"I do," he replied.
"Where is it?"
"It's—it's—hang on a second..." Joey patted down his slender legs and then he reached into his back pocket. He showed her the key ring and she took it for herself.
They rolled out of the parking lot and returned to the streets: lucky for them, the crowd in the club had cleared out quickly, and thus, they only had a bit of the late night traffic to deal with.
"I'm gonna have to call Cliff when we get home, too," she declared. "I can't believe I missed him."
"I mean, he did kiss you," Joey pointed out as he sank down in his seat.
"He did! And he asked me out to that show, too. I have to tell him."
"Well, remember—we are playin' a second night tomorrow. You can catch up with 'em tomorrow night when we all meet up again for a second time."
"That's true..." Her voice trailed off and they fell into silence as they made their way towards the freeway.
"By the way, Marla and I really like that Alex kid," she said. "The lead guitarist in Legacy."
"Oh, he's from another planet," he replied with a bit of a slurring to his speech. "He and Danny both." He hiccuped and lowered his chin to his chest. She peered over at him and his drooping eyelids.
"Just the way he stood there was so—serene. Real dark music but it was like he was beckoning something from the floor." She peered over at him. "By the way, are you feeling alright? You don't look good."
"Charlie called me back to the room there for sump'n and I can't remember what—I went back there to get another cup of beer 'cause there wasn't really much to eat there. And I remember us talkin' about the whole thing with the booze but..."
"It's the spur of the moment," she finished.
"Sweat—fun—that's what it's all about for me, even if it means cuttin' loose for a bit. I gotta say that it's nights like this where I can't really help myself."
"Joey, I don't know if it's the rush of adrenaline wearing off, but—" She stopped, and he turned his head for a look over her.
"But what?" he asked her.
"After tonight, I strangely feel—a lot closer to you," she confessed. "I feel like I've seen another side to you. A side beyond what I've done in my art journal and what I've done for you in that alleyway." She drummed her fingers on the edge of the steering wheel.
"And I dunno if it's the booze talkin' but—I feel closer to you, too."
"And if I must confess..." She glanced over at him again, that time to look over his black curls, made even darker and fuller in appearance by them being wet. He took another glimpse at her.
"What's that?"
"I need to feel your hair again," she declared.
"Why, you wanna get yourself lost in it?" he teased her.
"Not necessarily," she replied. "I just need to feel the texture of it at the roots especially."
She looked over at him again, at those jet black curls: every so often the lights from the city shone through the window onto them and they glistened like little embers from a fire.
"These curls are so thick and lush," she muttered, "and coarse. And soft, all at the same time. They're everything and nothing. They're so—they're so—"
"Curly?" Joey asked her with a raise of his eyebrow.
"Curly is an understatement," she quipped, and he chuckled at that.
Within the hour, they had returned to her building in the Bronx. Despite his word, Joey collapsed on the couch and fell asleep within mere seconds. It was late after all, and Sam knew there was no way she could call Cliff right then. Thus, she took a shower and turned in for the night herself.
Despite the rush of adrenaline and it being such a late hour, she could scarcely fall asleep. Cliff remained firm in her mind, the image of a tall man seated in a spindly chair with his bell bottoms spread wide over his pointed black leather boots and his black wide brimmed hat rested upon the crown of his head. He rested the side of his head against the backs of his knuckles and he gazed on at her. He waited for her. He was ready for her.
She couldn't stop thinking about him, even when the sun arose over the Bronx and she headed into the next room for a pot of coffee and a bite of breakfast. Joey had rolled over onto his stomach and let his right hand dangle down to the floor. She squatted down to examine that silver bracelet: just a flat, smooth rectangle of metal that hugged his wrist, but she wondered where he had gotten it from.
He awoke at ten thirty and he was eager to head back to the club for a second round.
"You sure you're up for it, Joey?" Sam asked him as they bustled back outside and towards his car parked at the curb. "You barely ate anything just now and you look really hungover."
"I gotta," he insisted as he slid into the passenger seat. "I woke up late—it'd be like wakin' up late for a class." She fetched up a sigh as she put on her sunglasses and rounded the front end to the driver's door.
That time around, Alex had taken a seat outside of the side door with his guitar cradled in his lap. His sunglasses obscured his eyes from them, but his stoic expression never changed as Joey climbed out of the car.
"Hey, kiddo—" He was cut off by his own vomiting right on the sidewalk, right in front of him.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, man!" Alex scrambled to his feet and scurried away from there before Sam could get a word in. Joey spat and groaned at the feeling: he rested his hands on his knees and breathed hard. Zetro and Cliff emerged from the side door just then: the former gasped.
"Fuckin'-A, Joey, did the room clear out?" he declared.
"Get him something to eat!" Sam ordered him. "He woke up like an hour ago and he was insistent on it."
"Yes, ma'am!" Zetro put his arm around Joey's back and guided him into the club. Meanwhile, Cliff turned to her: he wore that wide brimmed hat once again and he held a little yellow tulip in hand. Sam swallowed and she gingerly stepped onto the curb, and she stood right in front of him.
"I can't believe I missed you last night," she confessed, to which he handed her the tulip. "And—I'm really sorry I did." To which he shook his head.
"Don't be," he told her in a low voice. "If anything, it was actually my fault. I called your place yesterday to say I was gonna be here late but—when I never got an answer, I just thought, 'oh, she's probably there already. I'll look for her.'"
"I tried looking for you, but—I didn't see you anywhere," she confessed. "Frankie saw you, but by the time he told me, you were already gone."
"Yeah, Lars was hungry," he explained. "Again, don't be sorry. Be happy that we're here right now for a second shot."
"And here I am," she told him as she held the tulip close to her chest.
"And here we are," he echoed as he leaned in for a kiss on her lips.