Chapter 21

"So Lori," I started, "Andrew’s coming back in a week or so, isn’t he?" I was trying to converse with Lori at Crow’s Nest while Intravenous DeMilo was noisily finishing their evening on stage. Lori had been somewhat quiet all night, as though she was actually paying attention to the band for once.

"Um, no, no he isn’t," she responded above the noise before lighting a cigarette. She had smoked a couple of them during the show, which surprised me. I guessed that leaving lit cigarettes in an ashtray is a good way to ensure a person will start smoking.

"He’s not?"

"No," she responded. I waited for an explanation, but she stood quietly, watching Ray and his cohorts as they finished with a finale of intermixed noise.

"Why not?" I asked after they finally finished.

"The Berlin Philharmonic offered him a job, so he’s going for it."

"Really? That’s great!"

"Yes, I’m very happy that everything finally worked out for him," she responded with a smile as she tamped her half-finished smoke in an ashtray, "He’s been trying so hard for so long, it looks like all that effort finally paid off." Ray was just leaving the stage and it was not a difficult leap to think that Lori did not want him to see her smoking. The room was well lit, but we were off near the front door, and Ray would not be able to take his eyes far enough off the fretboard to see us back there.

He arrived with a half-hearted smile on his face as he greeted Lori by putting his arms around her. She returned the favor, though rather lackadaisically. They released each other and traded some greetings.

"Hey there, Lori, Tom," Porter, the lead guitar player, told us as he arrived at the table.

"Your turn to buy a round," Ray told him.

"Is it?" Porter asked.

"Yep."

"I’ll give you a hand with the beers," I offered. I had talked to Porter a few times before and I preferred his company to Ray’s.

As we walked toward the crowd at the bar, I asked Porter, "So how’s the search for a new band going?"

"Hm? Oh, lousy. I had a couple tryouts last week, but both of them turned out to be some real duds."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I’ve got another one next week, but I’m none too optimistic."

"Don’t worry, something will come through," I offered.

"I hope so. By the way, is Lori okay?"

"How do you mean?"

"She didn’t come up and dance or anything. She seems kind of, I don’t know, upset about something."

"I noticed that too. But this is the first time I’ve seen her in about a week, so I don’t know what it’s all about."

"I get the feeling she and Ray are arguing. Ray seems more pissed off than usual."

"You can tell the difference?"

"As a matter of fact, they seem to be arguing right now."

"Hm?" I looked back toward the table to see Ray and Lori gesticulating at each other with visibly raised voices. I could not hear anything above the jukebox, but they were definitely angry with each other for some reason. Then Lori took a resigned look about her. Her mouth said, "Whatever," then she grabbed her coat and stormed out. Ray stood motionless for a second before leaning forward onto his elbows and immediately going nowhere. Porter handed me a couple beers he had just purchased and we walked back to the table Ray was at. I handed him one of the beers I was holding, then grabbed my coat.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Ray asked me just before he took a swig.

"I’m going to go see if Lori’s okay," I told him as I began walking past him.

He dropped his beer, grabbed me by the shirt and threw me against the wall behind me. My feet slid out from under me and I landed rudely on the ground with my back propped up by the wall. Ow. I was too surprised to say anything or even move as he picked me up by the shirt. He let go with one hand as he cocked his arm. This was going to hurt.

However, before he fired his fist into my head, the enormous bouncer who worked the door made it there in time to throw a headlock onto Ray. Ray immediately let go of me as both his hands tried to pull the bouncer’s arm off his neck. However, the bouncer slowly worked Ray back away from me, eventually pulling him out the door and throwing him out onto the sidewalk.

The bouncer arrived just then, asking, "You okay, kid?"

I just stood there wide-eyed and thoroughly overcome with fear, anger and one serious adrenaline rush.

"Kid? Kid? You okay?"

"I will be," I replied as his voice worked its way through my haze and I slowly became aware that he was talking to me. I really do not know why he was calling me kid, but it might have had something to do with him being the size of two of me.

"Technically, I’m supposed to throw you out of here," he explained to me as I came back to reasonable awareness, "but that asshole is probably going to be outside looking to kick your ass."

"I appreciate it."

"Yeah well, don’t start any trouble and I won’t boot you."

"I wasn’t trying to."

"Didn’t think so. You don’t look quite stupid enough to start a fight with someone twice your size."

"Thanks, I think."

The bouncer nodded at Porter. "You know I’m gonna have to tell the manager about this, so you’re probably not going to be invited back. I mean the band, you’re certainly welcome here, Porter."

Porter nodded, replying, "Yeah, I kind of figured."

"Sorry."

"That’s alright, it was a shitty band anyway."

"You’d better buy this boy here a drink," he mentioned as he turned to go back to working the door.

"You sure you’re alright?" Porter asked me as the bouncer walked away.

I nodded anxiously, saying, "Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine." All eyes in the bar were on me and I did not appreciate the attention.

"I think the bouncer’s right, I’d better buy you a drink."

#

As I finished throwing up into one of the toilets, Porter asked me, "Feeling better?"

"No." The shot of Wild Turkey Porter had given me started a brawl of its own with the three beers I had had earlier. The melee quickly dragged my dinner into it before it spilled out of my mouth and into the toilet. This allowed my stomach to bring the fracas under control and peace was restored.

"Sorry, but you needed that."

"Like hell I did," I responded between spits.

"Andrew taught me that trick. I wasn’t too happy about it either, but it helps clear the adrenaline rush."

"Yeah, well, fuck him too," I told him as I flushed and walked over to the sink to rinse the bilious taste out of my mouth.

"You really should know better than to run after a jealous man’s fiancée," Porter informed me.

"Thanks for the tip."

"Especially when they’ve been fighting."

"I’ll remember that next time."

"You’d better. Is your stomach settled?"

"Yeah. You’re right, the adrenaline’s gone."

"Good."

"Fuck you anyway."

Porter smirked. "How about I buy you a beer this time around?"