Opening Act (31 page)

Shay felt the walls of fate close in on him…slowly, inexorably.

He was well on his way to achieving everything he'd ever dreamed of. If only it didn't suffocate him first.

CHAPTER 16

Zee arrived at Baby's apartment building. It looked less ominous with the sun out. In fact the whole neighborhood seemed quite a bit friendlier, if still a tad seedy. Since this was the scene of one of her most painfully embarrassing fails, she took the new light as a sign that maybe the way she saw things that night wasn't the way things would necessarily remain.

Jimmy Dancer was outside the front door, leaning against the wall, smoking.

“Hi, Jimmy,” she said—a little tentatively, as he didn't look like he'd welcome any intrusion. “We met here before, at the Club Uncumber after-party. I'm Zee.”

He turned his head toward her in a positively reptilian way and said, “I remember you,” then issued a sheet of smoke from his compressed lips.

“Welcome back home,” she said. “I hear the tour's going great!”

He inhaled another lungful, held it, then released it through his nose. “Depends,” he said.

She furrowed her brow. “On what?”

“On if your name is Shay Dayton. If the answer is yes, then absolutely, the tour is going great. For the rest of us…?” He flicked the cigarette to the pavement, then ground it beneath his toe.

She frowned. “You don't like Shay very much, do you?”

He whirled on her, an expression of astonishment on his face. “What do you mean? Dude's like a brother to me!”

She felt a momentary flurry of fear, as if he might hit her. “Sorry. You just…never seem to have anything good to say about him.”

“What I say about him,” he shot back, while taking a crumpled pack from his jeans pocket, “is only 'cause I love the guy.” He shook his head as he tapped out another cigarette. “Nothing good ever comes of getting everything you want, as soon as you want it.”

She felt a sudden sympathy for him. “I can't fight you there.”

“I
write
those goddamn tunes, you know. Baby and me.”

“Of course I know that.”

He lit up and took a puff. “Yeah, you do, don't you?”

“Shay writes the lyrics.”

“
Some
of them.” He turned and jerked his thumb toward the door. “You can go up, if you want. It's unlocked.”

“Thanks.” She stepped up onto the stoop.

“But nobody's up there.”

She faltered. “They're not?”

He shook his head.

“But Lockwood invited me! Just a couple of hours ago.”

He squinted his eyes as he considered this. “Oh. Yeah. I think maybe he's still there.” He took a quick puff, then added, “No one else, though.”

Zee climbed the stairs to Baby's place. The door was ajar, so she gave it a shove and went in. She found Lockwood slumped in a beanbag chair, reading an issue of
X-Men
.

“Hey,” she said, setting down her purse.

He jumped up at the sight of her and tossed the comic aside. “Hey!” he said. “Look at you! You look
phenom
.”

“Oh, please. I just came from work. I look like a Young Republican.”

He approached her, and they executed a kind of awkward arms-here-and-there maneuver till they managed a quick, uncomfortable hug. Then Zee gently pulled herself away and said, “Thanks for inviting me. I'm just on my lunch break, though. So…”

“So you must be hungry,” he said, pointing toward the kitchen. “Baby's sister made some fajitas. Not sure if they're ready.”

“Thanks, that'd be great.” She followed him as he crossed the apartment. “Where is everybody?”

He snorted. “They dared Trina to plank in the middle of Braithewaite and Maple.”

She blinked. “But…that's the busiest intersection in town!”

“I know. That's why. Of course, she was out the door like a shot.”

“What…what's she going to plank
on
?”

“Baby had an orange crate and an old amp. They took them along.” They reached the kitchen. “Hey, look, they're all cooked and on a platter and everything. Think I'll join you.” He took a couple of cracked ceramic plates from a cabinet and filled one with a trio of fajitas. Suddenly he turned and said, “Oh, sorry…mind if I use my fingers?”

She waved away his concern, and as he loaded a second plate she said, “Why didn't you go along?”

“Well, I knew
you
were coming.” He turned to carry the plates out of the kitchen. “Grab a couple beers from the fridge, 'kay?”

“Thanks, but I still have to go back to work.”

“I meant a couple for me,” he said. “Get a soda for yourself, or whatever you want.”

She shrugged, plucked a few cans from the refrigerator, and followed him.

They sat down together at Baby's highly stressed coffee table, one leg of which was bound together with guitar string.

“Mm,” said Zee, taking a bite of the fajita. “Good.” A little string of cheese fell onto her chin, and she scooped it up with her forefinger and sucked it down. In the meantime, Lockwood shoved almost an entire fajita into his mouth and swallowed it in a few doglike gulps.

They sat in silence for a while, eating. Then Zee said, “You could put some music on, if you want.”

He grimaced. “No music. I don't want to hear a single goddamn note these entire ten days. I'm freakin'
worn out
by music.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, then said, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“You already said that,” he replied teasingly.

She blushed. “Well…it was nice of you. That's all. Your triumphant coming-home party and all…”

He shook his head vigorously. “This is just a hang, Zee. We're only back for the blink of an eye, so we're just chillin', reconnecting with some of our peeps. All very low-key.”

She smiled. “I'm glad I made the cut.”

“Hey. You were top of the list.”

She finished her first fajita, then sat back to let it settle before tackling the next one. “So tell me about the tour,” she said, popping open her cola.

He sighed theatrically. “Do you mind if I don't? I freakin' lived that business for nearly three months. Now I just want a little space that's clear of it.” He shrugged. “Besides, I gave you all the high points in my e-mails.”

“Thanks for those, by the way. They made me feel special.”

“Well, if
that's
all it takes for
you
to feel special, then there's something extra fucked-up about the world.”

She blushed again.

“I tell you what,” he said. “Why don't you tell me what's goin' on in
your
life?”

She took a deep breath. “Honestly, pretty much work, is all. This new job, though it's not so new, anymore. Anyway, it really keeps me jumping. I'm on from nine to five, pretty much nonstop. Fortunately, there's not a lot of overtime required—I'm just clerical staff—but by the time I get home, I'm basically too burned out for anything. I haven't been to a club in weeks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Shame.”

“I'm not complaining, though. Glad to have it. Sure as hell glad of the paycheck.”

Lockwood shoved another entire fajita into his mouth and worked it down. “And how's things at home?” he said, once he'd managed to swallow it. “You get a new roommate?”

“No,” she said, making a tentative start on her second fajita. The way he was going, she had some catching up to do. “I don't really need one anymore, with the job. Though the company might be nice. And for a while…” She paused, with the fajita before her lips, and looked up at him.

He took a swig of beer, then set down the can with a barely audible burp. “For a while, what?”

“For a while,” she said in a low voice, “I thought Loni might move back. So I kept the room open for her.”

“Wow,” he said. “You're a real sweetheart.” He took another swig of beer.

She nibbled a corner off her fajita, then said, “But now, I think…she's happier. Loni, I mean.”

He nodded. “Good. Good for her.”

She waited for him to go on, and when he started making tactical moves toward his third fajita, she said, “That…that's all?”

He looked up. “What's all?”

“You're not going to pump me for info about Loni?”

“Why would I do that?”

She felt suddenly embarrassed, as if she'd farted or something. “I just thought, maybe that's why you invited me here.”

He gave her an astonished look. “I invited you here because I like you.”

“And…and Shay Dayton didn't ask you to get the lowdown on Loni from me?”

“Oh, hell yeah, he did.”

She felt dizzy. “He did?”

“Yeah. And I told him to go fuck himself. He used me for that once, and nothing came of it. So I said, this is your goddamn deal, you play it out.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Did you really?”

He shrugged. “Well. I was nicer about it, obviously.”

“So…he's not expecting to hear anything from you? About Loni?”

“Knowing him, probably, yeah.” He grinned. “But he'll be disappointed.”

“He will?”

“Well, yeah.” He raised his palms in the air. “I mean, I don't
know
anything.”

“And if you did know anything?”

He smirked. “I still wouldn't tell him.”

She smiled so hard, her face hurt. “Lockwood, you are so
totally
a gentleman.”

He slammed down his can and said,
“You take that back!”

She laughed so hard she actually belched. Which made
him
laugh.

When they'd both settled down, Zee had another few bites of her fajita, then said, “As it happens, Loni really
is
happy. Though not because of the teaching gig so much. It's 'cause she's decided to publish her own poems. Which is just incredibly major good news, because she's been scribbling them in private for, like, fifteen years, squirreled away in her room like a crazy person. Seriously, since
grade school
this has been going on. But anytime someone would ask to see them, she'd react like they were asking her to take off her underpants or something.”

“Well, good for her,” he said, eyeing his now empty plate. Then he looked up and said, “ 'Scuse me while I head in for seconds.” He got up. “You want anything?”

“No, no, I'm good.”

When he came back and sat down again—his plate now wobbling under the weight of four more fajitas—she said, “So, is Shay not still with that Pernita woman, then?”

He groaned, then said,
“Slooowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch…”

She laughed and said, “Excuse me,
what
?”

“Didn't you ever hear that? It's an old, old vaudeville routine. This guy's just out of prison for killing his wife and her lover at Niagara Falls. He's telling this other guy how he hid in their cabin and when they came in, he crept out of the shadows and strangled them. ‘Slooowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch—and then I
grabbed
them, and I
throttled
them…' and so on. Only now that he's out of prison, he snaps back to that moment whenever he hears the name ‘Niagara Falls.' And the joke is, of course the other poor schmuck in the sketch keeps saying ‘Niagara Falls,' which triggers the ex-con to say, ‘
Niagara Falls!
Slooowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch…and then I
grabbed
them, and I
strangled
them,' and so on. Of course while he's saying it he's strangling the other guy, who's screaming, Stop it, stop it, you freak. He regains control of himself, and he's like, I'm sorry, friend, I didn't mean to hurt you, and the other guy says, Dude, listen, you can't go around getting all medieval on people just 'cause they say Niagara Falls, and then it's
‘Niagara Falls!
Slooowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch…' ”

Zee was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

“So anyway,” Lockwood said, nodding his head. “Yeah. That woman's name has the same effect on me.”

“Pernita's?” said Zee, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Pernita Hasque!”
he cried, and he jumped up from the table so quickly he toppled his fajitas onto the floor. “Slooowly I turned,” he said, creeping toward Zee, who was too helpless with laughter to move, “step by step, inch by inch—and then…
I caught her! And I shook her! And I shook her some more!
” And here he actually grabbed Zee by the shoulders and gave her a good shaking.
“And…and I shook her some more after that! And…and then…”