souls of black | fever in, fever out

chapter 121: drink your poison

"your heart beats faster, you cannot breathe;
you're feeling nervous inside.
you feel the passion, it makes you seethe;
you feel the temperature rise!"
-"deadly nightshade", joey belladonna

All summer long, Sam traded in between hanging out with Alex and Joey. That whole tour between both bands proved to be one of the best she had been on before: the one with Stormtroopers wasn't nearly as eventful as those three months. They not only had showers and rooms of their own courtesy of the record label, but so much more was happening between herself and the two of them.
It all hinged on her riding with either band to the next stop. If she rode with Testament, she stayed the night with Alex; if with Anthrax, she hung out with Joey. She dared not swap rooms with either one, either, given Alex was always there by her side and Joey was a night owl now with the booze mostly out of the picture.
Meanwhile, there was the artistry. As far as she knew, Scarlett was a patient lady. But she always made art whilst next to either of those two men and among either of the quintets, with either her journal or the canvases she bought back in Raleigh. Charlie kept those old ink drawings she had made for them on the previous tour at the front of their van so everyone saw them upon the drive by.
She made paintings of all five men from Testament along a string of five days in between gigs in Oklahoma City and Kansas City, in which both bands didn't play a show. She completed the painting of Louie literally five minutes before they had to go on in Kansas City, but he had insisted on taking it out there onstage with him. Prior to the curtain lifting for them, he picked it up and, careful not to make the still wet acrylic paint that made up his hair bleed onto another part of the canvas, he carried it flat in both hands as if it was a tray of dinner. Sam and Alex watched from the back of the van at his running all the way to the back doorway, to which one of the stagehands held it open for him.
The two of them glanced at one another once he went inside: by the time she stood there off to side, she realized what he had done to the painting and propped it up right behind the drum kit with a camera pointed down at it. Every so often during that gig, the display behind them switched over to that camera and Sam's painting was showcased for everyone in there to see. Indeed, over the next string of shows there in the Midwest, the five of them had put their paintings right behind their respective places on stage: Chuck kept his portrait as well as the drawing that Marla had made for him for Christmas on a stool right next to him.
Even when they head banged, they made sure those pieces of art never moved out of their places.
All the while, if there was one band whom she missed, it was the Cherry Suicides. As the Midwestern stint came to a close in early September and they headed out to the Pacific Northwest in time for Alex's twenty first birthday, Sam realized she hadn't heard a word from Zelda or if the four of them were even still together. All she heard about was the new album named for her but that was where it all started and ended.
She never saw them there at any show up to that point.
But if anything, she and Belinda met a whole other myriad of people along the way, especially Overkill and Vio-lence. They all seemed to be on the fringes of music as well: whenever they had a stop somewhere, some other band was playing that night and they were filling out full arenas with their makeup and enormous hair. There Sam and Belinda walked about the streets of Des Moines, Iowa in their ponytails and their dark clothes compared to the literal look of modeling there up on stage. There was one band that the two of them had developed a fancy for, Skid Row, all because they seemed the least dolled up out of all of them: front man Sebastian stood there at the stage with his black jeans and long luxurious blond hair with a powerful voice that could be heard from clear across the vast floor. But it all felt so alien to the both of them, and they sought comfort in their friendships with the thrashers.
There came a point, when the whole circus headed back out to the West Coast and she had difficulty believing that the whole thing was in fact real given the sheer extent of everything, especially once she found out Slayer was on the tour with them that all of it was in fact happening. She and Belinda finally met them after what felt like an eternity: these four men wrapped up in rich black leather and with longer hair than Anthrax and Testament themselves put together.
The bassist Tom was a big chunky Hispanic boy with long inky black hair and a big goofy smile plastered on his face.
"Heard a lot about you girls," he told them both as part of his greeting to them. "You girls and those other crazy girls from Rhode Island, is it?"
"Yeah, the Cherry Suicides," Belinda had said.
"You're the artist, right?" he asked her. "The girl who made the paintings of Testament and the drawings for Charlie?"
"I'm an artist but no—" Belinda gestured over to her right behind her. "—those were all from my lady here, Sam."
Sam herself leaned forward and Tom flashed her a wink as a result.
She sat there on the plane on the way out to Seattle and she wondered where else she could go from there. Perhaps around the world for real that time. She had never really been to the Emerald City before, not even when Anthrax toured up there the first time around in the two summers before, especially since they had a curfew and the hotel was right outside of the city as well. Portland, she had been to with them, but never Seattle: only the outskirts and the inner part of Tacoma.
It would be the first time Slayer toured there as well, and Testament had gotten as close as Yakima and Spokane themselves. Seattle seemed like such a strange place to her, all tucked away in that particular corner of Washington. No one went up there unless they were willing to live within the rain and fly a plane. But apparently, there was a whole scene of music going down up there, one that reflected the entire thrash movement to an extent given it was all away from the world and radically different from everything else.
Soundgarden were a mere sliver of it all: Charlie had invited the two girls with him to see another band there, one who were about to release their big debut in the coming months, yet another quintet called Mother Love Bone.
They left the plane, followed by the airport, and the bunch of them stepped out to the cool afternoon: where it was still very much summer everywhere else despite it already being autumn, a fine gray marine layer courtesy of the Puget Sound sank over the entire region and beckoned an early season rain just in time for the evenin. Sam ran her fingers through her hair as she peered up to the gray sky overhead: Alex joined right next to her with his eyes squinted and his lips parted a bit. The color washed out from his face so he resembled to a ghost of sorts, a young spirit ready to walk the streets alongside the Puget Sound. A faint drizzle began to fall over them once a piece of cloud covered the sun overhead.
Slayer had already left for their hotel, but Greg and Eric joined the two of them there at the curb: their black clothes only added to their ghostly appearance. A cool breeze blew their hair back a bit so they resembled to the very wisps of clouds right over them. Sam thought back to the Day of the Dead ceremony back home in New York City, except they had no hoods over their heads; Alex turned to her with his eyes squinted a bit and his skin looking as milky as ever right there.
"It's utterly lovely here," he said in a low voice as he adjusted the skull ring on his right hand.
"Yeah, even here right at the city's rim, it's just beautiful," she added.
"I hope it rains even more tomorrow," he declared with a little raise of his eyebrows.
"Hey, yeah! You can have a little Seattle rainstorm for your birthday, Alex." She glanced about the deserted parking lot before them. Across the way stood all manner of tiny shops and places that made her think of the casinos back down at Lake Tahoe and in Reno.
"It kind of reminds me of Carson a bit," she said, "in a sense that there's not really many people here."
"Not nearly as wet and soggy there, though, I'd assume," Chuck joined in from behind her.
"Nah, it's not even remotely close to being like this," Sam assured him as she adjusted the strap on her overnight bag and on the courier bag Alex had given her.
"So who're you staying with tonight?" Greg asked her; and she realized that she still owed him an encounter just to satisfy the bet with Alex himself.
"I'm gonna be with the five dicks from New York," she replied right as Belinda walked up behind her, and she gaped at her.
"Five dicks from New York, I'm calling that from now on," Belinda said and Eric laughed out at that.
"And I assume we're the five dicks from California," he cracked.
"And Bel and I are about to see five dicks from Seattle tonight, too," Sam added on top of that, which brought a laugh out all of them.
"There's Charlie!" Belinda pointed up the sidewalk.
"Alright—we'll see you guys later—" Sam threw her arms around each of them as well as Louie as he came up right behind them; she held Alex a few seconds longer just to feel his softness a bit more. Even though it was his twenty first the next day, she hoped that he would take it easy on the alcohol when the time came for him. She wanted that softness to stay intact with him.
She then let him go and she followed Belinda up the sidewalk in order to meet up with Charlie and Frank, both of whom took them to their hotel at the base of Capitol Hill. A quick shower for both girls and a change into their clothes and both men knocked on their door once more.
Sam ran a hair brush through her hair as the two of them conversed about the whole scene there in Seattle right behind her.
"So where'd you hear about these guys, Char?" Frank started them off.
"Aurora told me about them," Charlie replied, "she talked to me while we were in North Carolina about this band out of Seattle that would probably take the whole glam thing to the next level because they're just huge in their sound. Like they have some genuine soul to them. None of that cheese that we've been seeing a lot lately. She told me they're a little bit punk influenced, too—think that might have something to do with it."
"Cool—what're they called again?"
"Mother Love Bone. She also told me that they're bit of a supergroup around here, too: formed from three other bands—I wrote them down because I wanted to check them out while we're here in Seattle, too."
Sam turned around right as he took a piece of paper out from his back pocket.
"Green River, Skin Yard, and Malfunkshun—Malfunkshun spelled phonetically."
"Sounds like they know how to party up here," Belinda noted.
"That's what Aurora told me," Charlie said as he tucked the paper back into his pocket. Sam brushed her hair a bit more and then she spritzed a bit of perfume onto her neck.
"I love that smell on you, Sam I am," Frank told her.
"I got this when we were in Des Moines," she said, "courtesy of Bel here."
"It fits your body chemistry like a glove, Sam," Belinda pointed out. "Like you just climbed right out of the shower."
"So you girls ready?" Charlie asked them.
"Yessir," Sam replied as she picked up her purse from the top of the table there and slung it over her shoulder.
They headed out of there right as the fine Puget Sound drizzle fell over their heads. Charlie led them over to the far end of the sidewalk when something across the street caught Sam's eye. She looked over at a guy in the cushions of the bay window of a coffee shop with his sleeve rolled up his arm, past his elbow. Belinda followed her gaze as well.
Frank sniffled and sneezed right then, but the sheer sight of that man there in the window only added to the thought that ran through her mind at the moment.
The shine of the needle. The sticky darkness that resided inside of there. He gritted his teeth at the vile feeling through him.
"Holy shit," Belinda muttered right into her ear.
It was right then Sam knew that they were in deep from that point onward.
They crossed the street, away from that coffee shop and up the pavement to where the band in question was playing that night.
Frank continued to sniffle and sneeze a bit as they made their way inside of there. The four of them congregated on the edge of the room because everything else before them had a dark veil over it and no way out of there in one piece. Something smelled of burning iron and a chemical but nowhere in there was a fire place.
"There's a lot of drugs around here right now," Charlie noted as they backed up towards the doorway.
"Yeah, it's making me sneeze like crazy," Frank said as he rubbed his nose.
"What's that smell?" Belinda asked them as they nestled together in that only safe spot of the room, right near the door and within the stream of fresh air: the one place without a trace of drugs to be found.
"Someone smoking cocaine, I think," Frank said, "I would know because I tried crack recently. It smells just like someone burning up metal—meth and heroin both smell like that, too."
Lucky for them, Mother Love Bone took to the stage up front there. Even from clear across the room, Sam could make sight of the five of them: the two guitarists near the edge of the stage. One with long smooth hair down past his shoulders and soft features, and the other with his face hidden out from view. The former made her think of Alex in a subtle fashion, from the depth of his eyes to the shape of his nose: he missed that gray stripe and he lacked Alex's sensual edge as well. The bassist strode up behind them with a big bright purple crushed velvet cap with a lacy ribbon wrapped around the crown there and a plain white sleeveless shirt. She couldn't see the drummer and she didn't have to, either, not with that big bold frontman there at the front, with his long blond hair down to his waist and streams of glitter all around his eyes.
"Hello, Seattle!" he declared into the microphone. "This first song is for all you people! All you people there at the back there!"
Sam and Belinda glanced at one another in surprise.
"We are Mother Love Bone! I am L'Andrew the Love Child and this is quite the cornucopia of delights up here—love rock awaits you, people!"
It hit both girls like a tidal wave, more so than the very stench of the burning cocaine and heroin before them: the vents on the ceiling took the whole cloud on the floor there so they could breathe better. Where every other person before them burned those drugs away into their lungs, the four of them stood there in the doorway and relished in the fresh air that came in from behind them and the music before them.
His voice seared into their minds, much like how Joey's voice stayed with them. Almost immediately, she thought of Joey himself. The whole band reminded her of Joey and Alex, from the powerful, extravagant voice to the rich and strong guitar work. Their songs wormed their way into her mind as well: she knew she would be hearing "This is Shangri La" in her head for days on end from that point onward. The stench of marijuana caught their noses, which in turn made Frank cough more, but it came as a relief to both Sam and Belinda, especially with the rain outside picking up into something one step beyond a drizzle.
"They're fun as hell," the latter remarked.
"I know, right?" Sam said right into her ear.
He threw his blond hair forth as if it was a genuine mane and then he lifted his head to show off the glitter underneath his right eye.
"Zelda would like them," Sam told her, to which Belinda nodded her head with her eyes wide.
"Kinda like how she would like Skid Row, too," she added, and Sam nodded.
Even though it was a tough crowd before them, both girls found themselves dancing a bit at one point. There was that one song at the end "Heartshine", where Sam pictured herself nestled in between both Joey and Alex. Her love and her friend with benefits. Both of them had her heart.
There was no way she could pick and choose between the two of them because it wouldn't be fair to either of them.
She thought of herself dancing for both men: her hips about in a circle for them both and her breasts high and perfect for them as well. Their hands on her skin to top it all off, too.
The four of them were practically outside in the rain at that point because it was all too much for them to bear in there. But lucky for them, that was the final song and Andy bode the delirious crowd before them a big hearted and jovial good night: at that point, he had put on round white glasses with purple lenses and a big tall dark blue hat upon his head as if he was Mickey Mouse.
"That crowd was just awful," Charlie said, "but I really liked them, though."
"I did, too!" Sam added as they began on back down the street towards their hotel. The rain had waned back into a fine drizzle at that point and albeit with the incoming darkness.
"I'm gonna need another shower after that," Belinda confessed.
"Yeah, that was insane how much drugs were in there," Charlie agreed with her, and he turned to Frank. "How're you doing right now?"
"A sniveling sneezing mess," he replied as he rubbed the tip of his nose.
"We'll all clean off and then have dinner," Charlie declared as they crossed the street yet again. They passed the coffee shop on the other side of the street once more: the man who shot one up his arm was still there in the bay window, except his eyes were closed and even through the dim evening light, Sam could see his pale complexion.
It took them a full hour to shower off, one after the other, and at that point, it was almost nine o'clock in the evening.
"Happy birthday, Alex," Sam declared as she dried off her hair and let it hang over her shoulders.
"Happy birthday, little man!" Frank proclaimed. "He's finally old enough to drink now."
For the rest of the evening, she thought about what to do for him that next day, especially since they had to play a show there in Seattle right after Anthrax and Slayer's sets in that respective fashion. Belinda didn't have her leather working tools onhand, either, but that strap that the two of them had crafted for him held up well in the last two years however. Neither Scott nor Dan had any ideas as to what to do for him other than give him a cake after the fact, either: and Joey was out of the question at that point himself.
At one point she caught Anthrax's set and Joey held that white Flying V guitar upon his body once again as if it was a complete extension of him. That time around, he wore a black billed hat with the word "Injun" scrawled on the inside there. She hadn't even seen him all day at that point, either: to see him there made her wonder if he had an ace up his sleeve at the time. At the end of their cover of "Antisocial", he glanced over at her and showed her and Belinda both that definitive lopsided grin.
They rounded out their short set with an extra large and loud rendition of "Gung Ho!" that ended with a little dual solo from Joey and Dan both, and someone in the audience throwing something at Scott. He ducked down as the jug landed on the stage right next to Charlie's drum kit.
As they left the stage, Joey leaned forward into the microphone.
"Don't be throwin' cider at our man Scott, now," he taunted the person there and a few people in the crowd clapped at that.
He then padded off of the stage last and greeted Sam with a big open lipped kiss.
"Whoa," Belinda breathed, and Joey laughed at that but he dared not let it get to him.
"Come with me," he beckoned both girls, and he led them into the backstage area.
"Eric!" Belinda called out right then; thus she ducked away from them but Joey led Sam onto his dressing room. She left the door slightly ajar but he was quick to bring her to the corner behind the door. Slayer were taking to the stage as he slid his tongue into her mouth and his hands up the curvature of her back.
"I've treated you so poorly," he said to her in a low enough voice for her to hear over Slayer's intensity.
"No you haven't," she vowed to him. "You just have a little problem with alcohol is all. I don't want you anywhere near it ever again."
She took the hat right off of his head and placed upon her own.
"Adorable," he complimented her as Tom let out a high pitched shriek that made her stop right in her tracks. It made her think of hell on Earth itself.
"Tommy screams like a demon sometimes," Joey told her, nonchalant.
"If you're the Devil, I'm proud to be a part of it," she said.
"Nah, Sam, you know us. We're not really into the whole Devil thing—they just seem that way is all."
"But still. If you're the Devil, I'm proud that to be a part of the whole thing."
Joey's bottom lip trembled at that.
"Make love to me," he begged her in a low voice. "Make love to me—please."
"I'll do something even better for you," she told him as she put her lips onto his, and then she moved down his neck to his collar bones. Joey held still as she moved down his hot body, all the way down his chest and towards his waist. He shuffled around and pressed his back to the wall: she lifted the bill of the hat from her forehead so she could have a better view of what was there.
She tugged down his shorts and gave him a gentle soft kiss right underneath his waist. She thought of giving him a vampire bite like she did with Alex, but he appeared to enjoy the feel of her lips there more than anything.
"Yeah, that's the spot right there," he breathed at the soft delicate feeling under his belly button, "—ooh yeah—yeah, right there."
She tugged his shorts down a bit more. Her tongue on his skin and within her mouth would do him justice.
She could tell he wanted it.
She started out small from the head and then she moved inward to his body, as far as she could stand it. But of course the tip reached the back of her mouth and she coughed and gagged at the feeling. She let go of his firm skin and coughed better.
"You alright?" he asked her.
"Yeah—it's just the first time I gave a big ass blowjob standing up like this."
Joey chuckled and he tucked his hands behind his curly head. She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised.
"You look like you're about ready to sing some lounge stuff," she told him.
"Lounge—I lounge around and kiss asses all day is what I do best," he said. She tried it again and that time she got it for real. Joey groaned in his throat as she fondled the smooth curvature of his hips and his thighs with the tips of her fingers. He tipped his head back and gave her yet another soft pleased little groan.
"Yeah, nice li'l deep throat there," he muttered, "yeah—yeah!" His chest heaved at the feeling and he treated her to soft little whimpers as a result. She was blowing him on Alex's birthday. Something about it gave her a feeling that she could do literally anything from that point onward.
She ran her tongue along the taut skin when she noticed Joey was about to come right there. She held onto him and he gasped at the feeling.
"Fucking hell—you're—you're—you're gonna kill me!" he stammered.
"Not if you can help it, big boy," she teased him. Joey came right in her hands right there and he fell down onto the seat of his pants, out of breath and dizzy. He fell onto his side and Sam shook her hands about to get it off of her skin.
"Joey?" she called to him. He was out like a light right there.
She bowed out of that room in search of a bathroom just to wash her hands. Right there at the other end of the backstage area, she spotted that door and she ducked in there without a moment's hesitation. She washed her hands with that soft smelling soap and then she ducked out of there once again, only for her to run into Alex and a little brown bottle of Seattle's own in hand.
"Hey!" he greeted her with a mischievous grin.
"Hey!" she retorted back to him.
"Where you going?"
"Back to Joey's dressing room. But it is your birthday after all."
"Indeed it is!" He took a sip of beer and the crowd erupted into applause for Slayer.
"How was your day?" she asked him once the noise out there died down a bit for them to hear each other.
"Oh, it's been fun! Chuck and Tiffany took me out to lunch at the top of the Space Needle and then we went to this one place right outside of town... did you know there is an actual sound garden up here?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, it's this big metallic sculpture that's fenced off but they took me to it. I don't think it might be open tomorrow because it's Saturday. But—it's definitely another thing we gotta do together when the time comes, Samantha." He took another sip from the bottle. "Come on, I'll take you back to Joey's room."
He took another sip before he walked in there with her, and he spotted Joey on the floor right behind the door.
"Is he alright?" Alex asked her.
"Oh, yeah. He just—had one too many is all."
"Oh, shit." He tipped the bottle back into his lips.
"By the way, how's it feel to legally drink now?"
"Excellent," he confessed. "I dunno if I'm gonna do it a lot tonight, though, especially since we're going on after Slayer."
"How many so far?"
"Just a couple," he told her with a wave of his hand. He kicked back the brown glass bottle and took a big swig of its contents. He set it down before his body and showed her a little smile. Even though he stood still, she could tell that he had had a few at that point.
"Alex," Sam said in a low voice: she could see it in his eyes as they drooped a bit.
"Samantha—Samantha? Samantha." He bowed his head a bit and continued to show her a smile.
"Just exactly how much is 'a couple', Alex?"
"It's enough, I can tell ya that."
"Alex."
"Samantha." He let out the biggest belch right there, one that made her retract back a bit.
"Your ancestors back in the home country felt that one, Alex," Greg called from right outside the door.
"Oh, no, pardon me—that came right outta—outta my ass."
She giggled at him and he giggled back at her. She moved in closer to him. Joey was unconscious right there but it didn't stop her from moving in closer to Alex.
"You gonna—you gonna—you gonna—what're you gonna do?"
"Kiss you—"
Her lips grazed up against his; he held the bottle out from his body so she could have more space for him.
"That's good, yeah," he said in between embraces.
"We might have a cake ready for you, baby," she whispered to him.
"This is better than any cake, my dear artist," he retorted back to her as she put her hands on either side of his face. "Hell, yeah—hell yeah! Hell to the yes! Fuck—fucking hell—"
He pulled back and shook his head about a bit. Slayer picked it up once again out there; Sam eyed the pale washed out look of Alex's skin and she thought of that man in the coffee shop on the way to the Mother Love Bone show.
"You're not going to puke again, are you?" she asked him, concerned.
"Nah," he assured her. "Well, I might but I won't do it on you, though. I promise. I promise, I promise, I promise."
She giggled at him and the droopy look of his eyes.
"Alex—you're so cute when you're a little bit tipsy," she told him.
"I'm—I'm—I'm as loose as a pussy when I've got a few in me, lemme tell ya..."
She giggled at him.
"Let's see—you're going on in a bit. There has to be a way to rid of the booze without you barfing it up."
"I'm probably gonna have to barf anyways," he told her. "There is some bread over there."
"Bread and crackers under the vanity mirror," she said as she made her way over to the mirror in question.
"Bread and circuses," he said with a hiccup. She handed him a handful of oyster crackers as he took a seat on the small dusty couch on the other side of the room, away from the door and away from Joey's unconscious body.
"I wanna have fun with you," he confessed with a hiccup.
"We are having fun, though," she pointed out. "It's your twenty first birthday, Alex. It's all about having fun! You only turn twenty one once in your life after all."
"That's right, right? You only turn—" He swallowed. "—a certain age one time, don't ya."
He let out a whistle and looked on at her, dazed.
"You alright?" she asked him.
"Yes! I feel like I'm about ready to fall right to sleep, though."
He took another sip from the bottle and then another bite of oyster cracker. He practically swallowed it whole.
"Well, chew it, Alex," Sam was scorn.
"Just melts in your mouth," he pointed out with his mouth full, and he took another couple for himself.
"Keep eating it, though. It should absorb it up inside you. You're gonna be on soon."
"By the way, we're gonna make another album for you, my darling artist," he said in a broken voice once he swallowed it down.
"We will, too," Joey blurted out right then, and Sam and Alex looked over at him. He was still unconscious but by some sheer magic, he had said that out loud without a shred of irony. The two of them looked at one another: Alex rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes.
"What's Testament's new one going to be called?" Sam asked him.
"'Souls of Black'," he said in a hushed voice. "At least, that's what Eric told me. He wants us to play on Clash of the Titans. Like if we get it done in time, we can get it there."
"And when's that supposed to be?"
"Uh—next summer, I think? I think? I dunno. I can't really think about things too much."
"Well, you boys better get on it soon," Sam encouraged him.
"Yeah, that's the plan anyways," he told her. "Once we're done here, we mosey on into the studio and run like hell. I think it's gonna be formidable, Samantha. We're as tight as we've ever been."
"Tight like a tight pussy?" she joked to him.
"Tight like a tight pussy, yes!"
He popped more crackers into his mouth.
"You ought to record something after you've had a couple," she suggested, "you know just to see what you can make out of it. It'd be true psychedelic metal right there."
"I don't really know if I can, though," he confessed with a soft chuckle. "I don't know if that's not really something you can do when you're off your rocker and three sheets to the wind."
"What about three sheets to my wind?" she asked him as she crawled closer to him and hovered right above his body.
"Oh, my, Samantha—"
"Was that 'oh, my' said in amazement or were you calling me yours?"
"You're good," he remarked with those eyebrows raised up again. She put her lips onto his, and she tasted the salt from the crackers as well as the hops from the beer.
"I'm gonna need a drink after this," he confessed to her.
"You are drinking, though," she insisted.
"No, drink of water," he corrected.
"I see. Well, drink your poison, baby."
"Drink your poison and get nasty wit' it," he cracked and she giggled some more.
"Alex!" Eric's voice floated from outside of the room.
"Oh, shit, I gotta move!" he said as he stood to his feet and rubbed his eyes. "Thank you for the bread, too—that actually helped me out a bit."
Sam stood up herself but then Alex stopped her right in her tracks.
"Samantha?"
"Yes?" She turned her attention back to him as he lounged there in the doorway with a lax look to his deep eyes.
"Tonight—go to bed and dream of a beautiful gray stripe," he said as he ran his index finger over that little tuft on the crown of his head.
"I always do, baby," she assured him with a wink. "Go give 'em hell."
He ducked out of there and back to his band: he still had his balance right then. She hoped that the bread really helped out and he would keep it together that evening as she made her way to the spot behind the door. She adjusted the bill of the hat and stooped down for him.
"C'mere, Joey—c'mere, baby—" She scooped him off of the floor and lifted up his head for a better look into his face. She set a hand on his forehead and pushed the hair out from his eyes. He opened them a bit and showed her a little dimpled grin.
"There he is," she said with a smile herself; with her free hand, she took off her hat and set it upon the dark curly crown of his head. "There's my little Injun boy."