It felt so odd to walk on to that old familiar building with no other obligation than to meet up with John over a cup of coffee. It felt so odd to be there by that old familiar brick building without Joey as well. All the same city as she had known for a bit more than seven years at that point, and all of it had changed in that window of time.
The air carried a different smell to it. The pavement seemed lighter, the sidewalk wearier from the sheer number of pedestrians, and the buildings had a bit of an angle to them that Sam hadn't noticed before. The feeling may have been the mere passage of time as it all caught up to her upon her stride up the street from the subway station there.
"Sam!" She peered up the sidewalk to the corner, where John awaited her, still with that fedora upon his head and with a toothpick tucked inside of his mouth. He waved at her, and she held onto the strap of her purse and hurried up to him.
"I was wondering when you'd get here," he said once she came within earshot of him; she extended a hand to him for a shake and then he opened his arms for her. "No, no, I'd like a hug."
She put her arms around him and he clasped onto her as if she was about to get away from him. Joey may have gone back upstate at that point to be with Krista for the rest of his life but she needed to see where Anthrax headed off to in the meantime.
"I really just wanna get to know you because you're like me: a California person in New York," he explained in a single breath.
"That's exactly how Aurora and I came together seven years ago," she told him, and then as the words left her lips, it dawned on her right then and there. It had been seven years since she and Aurora crossed paths together on the corner, the very corner right in front of her and John.
"It's a small world," he proclaimed with a big beaming smile. They kept on walking to the other side of the street to the café nearby, where John held the door for her and she took the first table by the window. He took off his hat when they stepped inside of there and he asked the waitress for two cups of coffee.
He had been with Armored Saint for several years at that point and once Joey had left the picture, Scott and Charlie picked themselves off of the floor and then partook in the selection process.
"It was either going to be me or Mark from Death Angel," he said as he stirred in the cream into his coffee.
"What's going on with them lately?" Sam asked him as she held her mug before her mouth. "I haven't heard a peep from them in like two years and I was trying to get close to them, too, just because they're like the runts of the litter in the Bay Area."
"They had a bus accident recently," he told her, and she almost dropped the mug right there.
"Oh, no, don't tell me." She gaped at him.
"It's okay, they're all okay. They all walked out of it unscathed aside from a few little bumps and scratches. I was actually talking to Mark the other day about it and he said that it was—this is going to sound odd, too—but he said that it was just what they needed. I guess those poor guys had been struggling for a while now. They were just waiting for their time, the other shoe to drop, and it finally did for them."
"Chuck, Alex, and I got to see them in L.A. a few years back," Sam told him as she brought her mug back to her lips yet again, "and I thought for sure they'd be on their way into the stars."
"I did, too! And Mark was like, 'I don't know if we can keep going after this, man.' And then he congratulated me on landing the spot with Anthrax. I knew that he thought for sure he was going to get it, just because of how similar he is in range to Joey."
"Times have changed, though," Sam pointed out, and she put her mug down on the table before her.
"Times have changed a great deal, though," he echoed her. "We—Anthrax—go into the studio to record this fall, I think? I'll have to ask my new bosses about it."
On one hand, it was what they wanted out of life. But then again, there was something off about the whole thing, especially when he added that Scott and Charlie had "picked themselves off the floor" as he put it just to call him up to sing for them.
"How does it feel?" she asked him as he took a hearty sip of coffee for himself.
"What, singing for them?"
"Yeah."
"It's definitely different, for sure. Armored Saint is all about aggression and ferocity and darkness, and I guess they're wanting that for themselves. Thing is—and I'm sure you know this just by being in the art world, too—there's only one version of an artist."
"Oh, yeah."
"The thing is when something gets popular, everyone wants to capture a piece of the proverbial lightning in the bottle to call their own so they can be like 'hey! Look at me! I'm as cool as this person! I'm part of this, too!' If you have enough copycats, you get your own genre and your own movement. The problem is when you have enough copycats, you start spotting out who the copycats are and who the real ones are just by viewing their history. If you ask me—" John peered over his shoulder to the rest of the café to ensure no one eavesdropped on them. "—there's only one version of Anthrax and it's with Joey. He gave them their voice. He gave his voice to them and then they decided that it just wasn't good enough. Scott broke it down for me and he said that they're trying to make money and they can't do it with him. Not in this current climate of 'alternative music' as it's called."
"You know, it's funny. My friend Marla and I were just talking about this the other night after we heard Metallica on the radio. We hope that these boys still maintain their soul and made them special in the first place."
"Well, it's kind of hard to," John admitted with a shrug, "Armored Saint moved on without me and Anthrax are moving on without Joey. Testament are moving on without Alex and Louie. My replacement and I both have big shoes to fill and so we're going to try our best. Alex and Louie's replacements do, too—do you know who's standing in for them? I just think of your friendship with those cats."
"I haven't heard anything yet," Sam confessed with a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders.
"Man... I really like Testament, too," John said as he took another sip from his coffee. "Alex makes them stand out with those quick fingers of his and that bluesy tone he likes to incorporate, especially if his solo in 'Eerie Inhabitants' is anything to go by... yowza! Whoever is going to take his spot there next to Eric is really about to have his work cut out for him."
"Or her," Sam suggested with a wink and a smile.
"Or her, yes!" John leaned back and rested his elbows upon the top of the seat behind him. "I like the way you think."
"It's what I get for being an artist," she said with another shrug of her shoulders.
"There's only one of you," he said, "and it shows up in your creations. There's only one of us. Of all people on Earth right now there's only one of us to go around. I can tell you make art because it's what makes you get up in the morning. When something as transient as money gets involved, then soul goes sideways."
"You think this next album with Anthrax is going to be a bust?" She raised her eyebrows at him.
"I hope not," he said with a bit of a shudder, "it'd mean bad news for me if that happened, I'm just gonna tell you that right now. But what I am saying is their weak point is their lead vocals. They got rid of what made them special in that it was Joey's voice and then they brought me in. I'm their fourth singer and therefore I can readily say that it's their Achilles' heel. Now they have money involved into the equation and I don't see things going as planned in the future, following this album. I have no doubt in my mind that this album that they're writing up at the moment is going to be strong. But I'm sure you know that in this sort of thing you have to think ahead."
"Sort of," Sam confessed, "I worked as an assistant to Aurora while I was in school and back when Cliff was alive so I had a taste of it. But nothing to that extent, though."
"I see! But that's life in the album cycle, though. You have to focus on the current era and then once the moment hits and the people above you say 'jump', you have to ask 'how high?' and then repeat the cycle over and over again. Wash, soak, rinse, spin, repeat."
"I can see it getting stale," she said.
"Oh, does it ever," John assured her. "My guess is that's what happened with Joey, like things with him were getting repetitive and they were wanting something different for themselves. Those rap collaborations were in the right direction but my guess is they were wanting something else."
"I barely remember those rap songs they did," she confessed, "well, I was hanging out with Testament more and more at that point."
"'I'm the Man' and 'Bring the Noise'," he said.
"I remember 'I'm the Man' on Among the Living," she recalled, "the other one not so much."
"Really? It was all over TV last year. I remember seeing Joey was so happy about it, too." He then took another sip from his coffee. "You went out with Joey, didn't you?"
"I did!"
"What was that like?"
"It was fun—interesting, I would say. I was fresh off the boat with my relationship to Cliff and I was wanting someone next to me again, so I turned to him. We fooled around for a while and then he asked me to marry him, but I backed out because I just wasn't ready for it."
"It's not for everyone, either," he said.
"Charlie told me that, too," she recalled.
"And what happened with Joey after that?"
"He was—actually in love with another woman all the while. So, part of our decision on marriage was our landing a spot with each other, dare I say."
"Sort of like—putting your foot down," he followed along. "Like 'it's me or forget it.'"
"Exactly! And—well, I guess he was just too emotionally involved with her to be hitched to me, either." She pursed her lips together and John frowned at that.
"Do you still love him?" he asked her in a low voice.
"I do," she confessed, "even though I know in my heart that it's just not possible between us. I don't know how he feels about me, though. I've tried talking to him about it—you know, to smooth things out between us. And it just—it wasn't happening. Maybe that's why I don't remember 'Get the Noise' or whatever it was called."
"'Bring the Noise,'" he corrected her.
"Yeah, that one. I was so focused on organizing our wedding and then reeling with the shame of it all that I just blocked it all out of my periphery." Her face fell and John nodded at her.
"You know, I'd talk to him but he's a little too far gone at this point, though," he admitted to her, and she showed him a smile.
"That's really sweet of you, John," she told him, "But—like what you said, though, we all have to move on at some point."
"We all have to move on," he echoed her, and then he took one last sip of coffee. "Where do you live around here, by the way?"
"Over in Hell's Kitchen. The only apartment complex that overlooks the harbor."
"Okay," he said with a nod, "I ask because—you know."
"You want to get friendly with all us," Sam said with a smile and a slight nod of her head.
"Exactly!"
"It's right up the block from my gallery, too."
"So, all the more reason to visit," he declared, and he took a glimpse down at his wristwatch. "I've got to meet up with Jonny Z and Charlie in a few minutes again. I just wanted to have coffee with you, though. This was nice."
"It was! I hope we can do it again."
John ran his fingers through his hair and then he put his fedora back onto the crown of his head.
"And I have to call Lars, anyways," she said, "I'm manager of his new project so I have to get in touch with him." And then she stood to her feet and walked on over to the payphone on the wall right nearby there.
"Good ol' Lars," he said with a shake of his head; indeed, John lingered right behind her as she dialed Lars' number. She waited for a few seconds until she caught his answering machine.
"Lars, it's Sam—I just wanted to call you to touch base with you, Dave, and Joey. Give me a call back as soon as possible. Talk to you soon." She hung up the phone and then she adjusted the strap on her purse.
"Wanna head on back together?" John offered her. "I'd hate for you to walk there by yourself."
"Please," she replied with a little nod of her head. With Alex having returned to the Bay Area and the rest of the boys elsewhere, she had to relish in this new friendship with John. They walked back down the sidewalk together to that old brick building at the end of the block. Sam recognized that head of black hair in the doorway and her heart skipped several beats.
She knew she would have to face her again at some point, even as she showed her an unsure little smile.
"Hey, Sam," Aurora greeted her in a low voice.
"Hey, Aurora," she returned the favor; John ducked past her into the front room there, and Aurora turned to Sam with a flustered look on her face.
"It's been a while," Sam noted.
"That it has," Aurora confessed with a nod. She had rather prominent bags underneath her eyes and her skin looked a touch more washed out than usual. Then again, she was raising three very young children solo at that point while she worked a full-time job. Sam expected her to look exhausted.
"How's life?" Sam asked her.
"It's—it's been crazy. And that's all I'm going to say about it."
Sam pursed her lips and she struggled to hold herself back. She was responsible for the firings, especially for firing Alex; all Sam knew was she need not say anything about it, especially her reasons for firing Alex herself instead of letting one of the guys in Testament do it themselves.
The phone rang and one of the guys in the back room answered it.
"You know, I was just—talking to Louie not long ago," Sam started, "and he tells me that he wants to start a commune of sorts. All of us living in harmony and everything."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. Sounds good, doesn't it?"
"How's he going to do it?"
"I don't know. But it sounds like a decent idea if you ask me."
Aurora opened her mouth to say something but then John stepped into the doorway with the phone in hand.
"Aurora? It's for you."
She turned back to Sam with her eyes agleam.
"I'll be right back—in the meantime, don't even think about it."
"I'm thinking about it," Sam retorted, and Aurora waved her off as she took the phone from John.
"Hello?" she started, and Sam folded her arms across her chest. Even though Louie had made his choice, she still wanted to know what the deal was with Alex. There were some things they just couldn't talk about over the phone.
"Yes?" Aurora raised her eyebrows. Silence ensued around them. And then Aurora brought a hand to her mouth.
"Oh my god," she breathed out, and she turned to Sam with a look of concern in her eyes. "Okay. Yes, thank you. Thank you very much, I'll tell the kids about it." Aurora hung up and she turned back to Sam. The look on her face made her stop everything she was thinking about at the moment.
"What happened?" Sam asked her in a low voice.
"Emile was killed in a skiing accident," Aurora replied in a near whisper; John and Scott, the latter of whom had completely shaved his head and put a ball cap upon his head, stepped out of the background right behind her. "He went up to Mammoth—Mammoth Mountain—before the slopes closed for the season and I guess there was an escape of volcanic gas up there. It disoriented him and he went sideways and oblong into a tree. If the impact didn't kill him, then the gas probably did."
"Oh my god," Sam muttered as she brought a hand to her mouth. Granted, she had grown weary of Emile long ago but it was still striking to hear about his death however. And she came to that pile of bricks just to talk things over with Aurora as well.
"What happened?" Scott asked them as he took a spot right next to Aurora there in the doorway.
"Yeah, is everything alright?" John joined in.
"Emile died," Sam replied with a straight face.
"Emile, my ex," Aurora added. "He was killed in a skiing accident over at Mammoth Mountain."
"Holy shit!" Scott gaped at her.
"Oh my god, Aurora, I'm so sorry," John said, and he put one hand on her shoulder out of comfort. She shook her head at that.
"He was my ex, though," she pointed out. "The one thing I'm worried about right now is what I'm going to say to my kids now. I have three children with him—twin girls and a son."
"I say just tell them the truth," John replied as he folded his arms across his chest. "Just ease them into it."
"Yeah, they're gonna find out at some point, you know," Sam joined in. "They're going to figure out that their father had died."
"That was the babysitter," Aurora continued, "she hasn't told the kids yet because she wants me to tell them about it. She's calling my dad right now because I can't do it from here. We'll see what happens from here on out." She shook her head again and John put his arms around her; Scott sighed through his nose and he doubled back into the room behind her.
"God, Aurora, I feel so bad about all of this now," Sam confessed to her.
"You know, I do, too," she admitted; Sam opened her arms and she held Aurora close to her. She was her first best friend there in New York City and most of all, her first best female friend. No way they could continue to hash out the grievance between each other.
"I feel bad for letting go of Alex when it should've been their choice to make," she confessed in a soft voice. "I guess I was just listening to the numbers rather than my conscience."
The phone rang again.
"That's probably her dad," Scott called out to John, who then picked up the phone again and handed it to her. She pressed the button to answer it.
"Hello? Hi, Dad—I know! It's horrible." Aurora paused for a second. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, we'll all be out there soon enough." She hung up the phone as quick as she had picked up. "The funeral's Saturday down in New Orleans. He's going to be buried in a mausoleum and everything."
"Wow," Sam remarked. "This Saturday?"
"Yeah. And then I'm going out to California for a while to visit my parents. They just want to see how the kids are doing in the wake of everything."
"I'll come with you," Sam blurted out.
"I will, too!" Scott joined in as he stood to his feet. "I live out there now so I might as well head out that way with you, Aurora."
"That's real kind of you both," Aurora replied with the shake of her head, "but I think I got it, though."
"You're gonna need all the help you can get, though," Sam pointed out. "Aurora, you're a single mom now and your ex-husband was just killed in the most horrific way possible. You're going to need help, ours and anyone else willing." Scott shrugged his shoulders at that.
"Can't beat that," he told Aurora; she then sighed through her nose and tucked her hands into her jean pockets.
"Alright," she decided, complete with a nod. "I'll take it. But no mentions of what I've done to anyone, though."
"I promise," Sam said with a wink.
That Saturday in New Orleans carried with it a clear blue sky and the feeling that the first thunderstorm was upon them at some point. The trees were that rich green with the heart of springtime and the nearby swamps had come to life with the early season warmth. So soon after Mardi Gras and yet Sam and Marla still found themselves shrouded with those brightly colored beads around their necks. Bright colors to accompany their black dresses; the latter had dyed her hair to that royal blue of which she had talked about before and the sun gave her a nice bright sheen around the crown of her head. Those smooth royal blue locks to twin Sam's shabby black hat and the low neckline of both of their dresses: she was somewhat surprised by the fact that Scarlett had let her go to New Orleans with such ease, but then again, she had no surprises at that point with the gallery. All she needed to do was make more art and then Scarlett did the rest of the legwork after that, thus she was left with a great deal of time on her hands.
Sam and Marla stood underneath the robin's egg blue awning of a cozy looking shop at the end of the block: right across the street stood a series of low leafy trees and shrubs; beyond that was the graveyard, most of which stood above ground.
Aurora had told them to await her there in the French Quarter, right within range of the cemetery and Emile's mausoleum. Apparently, his family had lived in New Orleans for the better part of two hundred years at that point, and thus he was to be buried next to his grandparents, his great-grandparents, and two of his aunts and two of his uncles.
"Got the whole family involved," Marla noted with a little nod of her head.
"Redefining 'family fun' at the granular level if you will," Sam added, and they both giggled at that. No way they could make any other jokes like that with Aurora around from that point onward.
"You know what gets me," she started again, "is when Alex, Eric, and I went up there—over to Mammoth and we had Chuck's trailer with us—we actually overheard someone in the bar talking about that whole thing."
"Oh, really?" Marla raised her eyebrows at that.
"Yeah. Kind of has me shook a bit. Like—Like—"
"That could've been either of you," she followed along.
"Yeah. Just like how when Cliff was killed, it could've been either of them..." And her voice trailed off. It also didn't help matters that they were about to walk right into a graveyard for the man's funeral, either.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. The two of them then turned around and they beheld the sight of that inky black hair down over his shoulders; even from right there, Sam could tell that he was beginning to grow out his bangs all the way out. As a result of his pushing his bangs back over the crown of his head, they were not only greeted by that gray streak once again, but with a full view of his pale forehead. And yet Sam still recognized him by his deep-set blue eyes and the full tip of his aquiline nose.
Still as slender as a rail and still as elegant as she remembered him, even if it had only been a week. Given the warmth of the Louisiana bayou around them, he had put on a mere black silk button-up shirt with black trousers and swirled black- and brass-colored suspenders.
"Hey, Alex," Sam greeted him.
"Hey, you," he replied back to her, complete with a little lopsided grin.
"Not to be like 'that'," Marla began, "but man, you're probably going to be the most stylish out of all of us here, Alex."
"I didn't really know the guy, but I wanted to look my best, though," Alex confessed; it was right then and there that Sam wished that she had her journal on hand. Those black clothes on his slender body and she knew that he would pass off for a decent fitting in the future.
Because of that, it was right then she wondered if she could consider fashion drawing as a possible avenue for herself. With the gallery mostly under Scarlett's discretion, her artistry had left her with enough time to undertake other ventures besides just meeting new people.
"I'm gonna see if I can find you some beads," Marla added, and then she ducked away from there.
"What a place to be right now," he remarked as he ran his thumbs underneath his suspenders.
"Springtime in New Orleans and we're all dressed in black," Sam said with a slight smile on her face.
"And not to be 'that' person myself," he cracked as a continuation of Marla's words, "but this is kinda interesting, actually. You and me here in the French Quarter dressed in all black and with Mardi Gras beads to boot. There's something about all of this here."
Before Sam could say anything, however, Aurora strode up behind Alex with a black veil over her face. Her dress had a soft sheen to the skirt and her neck and shoulders were wrapped up in black lace. Her three children meanwhile were nowhere to be seen.
"Come along, you two," she beckoned them; she didn't dare look at Alex in the face or even acknowledge him.
Even when they took their spots in the folding chairs on the swampy grass, Sam still glanced about the graveyard for Marla and a string of those brightly colored beads. She kept on looking around even as Aurora gave her eulogy, as did Emile's older brother and sister. She also took a glimpse down at Alex and his lanky legs, dressed in that fine fitted black twill to accentuate his thighs. The thought of fashion drawing hung within her mind, as did the whole stained-glass venture that Belinda still had promised her.
The future was wide open and it took the sight of the pallbearers loading up Emile's black coffin into the dark stone mausoleum for her to realize that she had the time to do it. The time to make the choice and the time to take it upon herself to do it. Indeed, for all she knew, she could do all of it if she wanted to.
After the funeral, she and Alex stood at the gates of the graveyard and right underneath those large leafy green trees and out of the sun. Aurora meanwhile went about the funeral party as they gave her their condolences all the while.
"Where the hell has Marla gone off to?" Sam wondered aloud.
"Get me some beads, she said," Alex told her. "Where is another question, though."
"Yeah, that's what I mean," she clarified. "Where did my best girl friend run off to."
"So, we're all headed back to California after this?" he asked her as he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets.
"Apparently so," she replied, "Aurora's going to be in San Diego for a bit to visit her parents. Scott and I are coming with her for about a day or two, and then he's going back to L.A. for a week."
"And then what are you doing?"
"I might go up to Marin Heights to visit my dad. The gallery's doing just fantastic at the moment that I can do whatever I want in the meantime. There are some ventures I'd like to take—it's just making the right decision and going through with it all..." She paused for a second. "Why? You wanna do our little road trip that we threw out to each other those couple of times?" She couldn't resist the smile on her face.
"If it's not too much trouble," he said with a shy little shrug of his shoulders.
"Well, the only thing I have to do is update my art gallery for the time being," she explained, "and that takes a few months, depending on the amount of art that I make. That means I have to actually make the art. That means I have to do something about that. That means I can do other things, too."
"And does that encompass a road trip?"
She showed him a smile as a result. "Yes, it does! Indeed, it does."
Alex threw his arms around her and he held her close all the while.
"I'll check in with Belinda and see if she still wants to do the whole glass thing that she promised me when we were in school," Sam said. "That's just one thing."
"You've got time, though," Alex pointed out.
"I've got time. I've got nothing but time, even with the clock ticking."
And Marla still hadn't come back yet.
YOU ARE READING
souls of black | fever in, fever out
Genç Kız Edebiyatı*VOLUME 2* The deepening of the relationship between Sam and Joey, as well as Sam and that boy with the silver streak in his hair, as the world around them changes all too often, and all too quickly.
