When he arrived at the club, Jason saw Helena sitting with BoBo. They were having a drink at their table.
“Hey, what’s up?” Helena said. “I thought you weren’t coming around tonight!”
“Yeah,” responded Jason, “I just can’t stay away from you guys… What’s going on? Anything good?”
“Oh, we’re just hanging out,” said BoBo as he took a hit from a joint. “Want some?” He waved it towards Jason.
“No, thanks. You know I can’t stand the smell of that cheap shit.” He saw Angela serving another table. “Hey, Angela, get me a double.”
“Sure thing, Jason!” she shouted over the tables. Jason watched Angela as she walked towards him.
What a fabulous body that girl has! She has such a bounce in her step, I bet she can really be fun; maybe it should be her for my first try at this sex thing. He looked over at Helena, realizing that she had been following his eyes.
“Oh my God,” said Helena, “you are really getting so obvious, and what could you possibly see in her?” Helena watched Angela as she strolled past. “She’s so trashy!” Unable to mask her jealousy, Helena’s competitive side reared.
Jason looked back at her and did not say anything. He truly liked Helena and thought if there ever were a human who could draw him close, it would be her. But, any liaison with her would be too risky a venture. I could not chance harming her, and I have no idea what would happen if we were intimate… No, Angela should be my first foray into this so-called land of amorous pleasure. She is of little importance to me.
Angela brought Jason his drink and asked in her sweet Italian accent, “So, how are you?”
“I’m good, gorgeous. And you?”
Helena turned her head, and Jason sensed fire in her eyes. He paid this no attention.
“You’re looking really good these days, Angela! Are you taking vitamins or something?”
“Si,” she replied. “Italian ones. You like?”
“Yeah… I like,” he responded. “Say, what are you doing later? Maybe we can all hang out and party a little.”
All of a sudden, Helena’s voice rang out angrily, “Sure! You could bring along your girlfriend Rachel, and you three could get it on together!”
Jason turned in surprise. He had not expected such an outburst. “Helena, what’s up with that? Come on now! Be nice.”
Angela, not to be intimidated, snapped back, “You know, that’s not a bad idea! We’re both off in a couple of hours.” She walked away, swaying her hips in a sassy manner.
“Oh, that’s just great!” screeched Helena replied shaking her head. “I cannot believe you sometimes, Jason.”
Just then, a guy appeared and started talking to BoBo.
“Jason, do you know Rick Danko? He’s a hell of a guitar player!”
“No, I don’t,” responded Jason, relieved by the change of subject.
“Nice to meet you, Jason,” Danko said. “I heard your set the other night. It was fantastic!”
BoBo interjected, “Hey, you know, he plays with Bob Dylan!”
“Yeah,” confirmed Danko, “I’m backing him up tonight at Carnegie Hall, if you’re interested. I can get all of you backstage for the concert, if you’d like.”
“Oh, yes! Yes!” cried Helena. “Yes, yes, yes! Let’s go, Jason!”
“Bob is eager to meet you, Jason. He was here that night as well, hiding under a big hat. He thinks you are great.”
“Oh, please let’s go!” cried Helena again.
“Okay,” responded Jason.
“We have to leave right now if you want to do this. We can all squeeze into a cab. Let me just make a quick call and set it up.” Danko went across the room to the pay phone. Moments later, he returned and said, “Okay, just spoke to Bob. He says you’re in. Let’s go.”
They all started for the door. Angela intercepted Jason. “You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah, we’re going to see Dylan at Carnegie Hall.”
“Oh, wish I could come!” She took out her order pad. “This is my number and address. Call me later. I’ll ask Rachel, too, if you’d like.” She giggled.
Jason smiled. “Okay, maybe later.”
Just then, Helena grabbed his arm, pulling him out the door.
“I hate that little bitch!” she snapped. “Who does she think she is?”
As they made their way into the street, BoBo had already waved down a cab.
It started to rain as the cab progressed uptown. Everyone was quiet for a while, taking in the warm night and listening to the raindrops pounding on the roof. The streetlights made glimmering highlights on the windows. Everyone but Jason was completely stoned, mesmerized, all in their own worlds. They watched the water trickle down the glass, creating sinuous patterns as they flowed. Suddenly, the cabbie blurted out, “Where we goin’?” and the quiet moment ended as Danko answered, “Uptown, Carnegie Hall,” and they all started to talk at once.
Helena remained furious. While Jason ignored her expressions, BoBo lit a joint and did his best to calm her down. Then Danko started telling stories about working with Dylan. He recalled one night in the recording studio when Mick Jagger had come by. Dylan had been cutting a new song. He was curious what Jagger would think of it. After the cut was done, Jagger sat silently for a while. Then he went up to Dylan, whispered in his ear, and left.
Danko remembered the moment. “I asked Bob what Jagger said to him. Dylan grumbled that Jagger said, ‘Your lyrics are great, but your singing sucks.’” Everyone laughed out loud.
As the cab moved uptown, they sang Dylan songs and banged out beats on the back of the seats. The driver, a gray-haired, overweight Polish man, first got angry, cursing at them, but in time his anger faded, giving into the charm of the moment. From deep within his belly came forth a groan. All heads turned towards him in surprise as he started to sing along with them in an accent so thick the song sounded more like a village polka than American folk-rock. Bouncing up and down in his seat the verses bellowed out, “It is me you’re looking for, babe.” Everyone looked at each other and broke out in hysterics as they continued to egg him on. Helena started laughing, her mood shifting, and with a smile lighting up her face, she said, “I won’t forget this fucking ride!”
The taxi turned onto 56th street. They pulled up to the stage entrance and piled out of the cab. Jason produced a wad of cash and paid for the ride. He gave the cabby a ten-dollar tip and thanked him for his song. Jason always seemed to have an endless supply of cash in his pockets. He was always good for the tab or to pay off the drug pushers at the Dom. He loved to keep the band in high spirits. They never questioned the source of his money. Jason had floated a rumor in the past that he was a trust fund kid related to William Randolph Hearst. That seemed to satisfy the curiosity and quell any gossip.
They went in through the stage door entrance. Danko was in a hurry since they were late. He had to be on stage soon. When they finally arrived backstage, they saw that Dylan was already behind the curtain tuning up his instruments.
“Where have you been, man?” Dylan barked at Danko. “You’re late!” Danko apologized. He grabbed his guitar and started tuning with the rest of the band.
After they got all tuned up, the atmosphere chilled. Everyone put down their instruments, stepped back behind the stage, and lit cigarettes.
Bob walked up to Jason. “Hey man, glad you could make it! I heard your number at The Dom. I wanted to go backstage and talk to you, but you know, man, I have to lay low in places like that. Anyway, your set was really cool. We should jam together sometime.”
Jason gave an affirming nod. “Do you know my lead singer, Helena?” he asked.
“No, I don’t,” he responded, looking at Helena, “but I heard you as well! You were great. We all have to do something together.” Dylan paused. “I’m sorry for being so testy when you came in. It’s been a really horrible day. I cannot stand the manager at this place, and nothing seems to be going right. It’s always like this on t
he road. There is always some shit. You never get it the way you want; someone is always fucking up. You will see one day. You guys are going to be huge, so you’ll be spending a lot of time on the road.”
Helena beamed and said, “I hope so.”
“Yeah,” responded Dylan. “It’s fun sometimes, but it gets lonely. Most of the time it sucks. I just try not to ever forget that it’s about the music, about the message. All the rest is bullshit. Sorry to sound down,” he said, hanging his head. “I’ve been bummed out all day. I’ve been thinking about Bobby Kennedy since last night,” he went on. “Can’t get him out of my head. Things might be different if he were around. This fucking war… Sorry to sound like a downer, I guess this tour is getting to me. Say, if you want to, you can come back to my hotel later. We can talk more, but I’ve got to get on stage now.”
The band took the stage. Dylan bowed his head and started walking towards them. He looked back and gave a smile to Helena then opened the night with the song. “Like a Rolling Stone,” the crowd roared.
“He is so cool!” said Helena. “I can’t believe this.”
Jason just smiled as Dylan continued singing.
“Well, Jason,” she said with a smile, “are you going to let other people get your kicks for you?” Her voice took on a serious tone, as she said, “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time now. How long will I have to wait? Forever? I won’t, you know!”
Jason looked at Helena. “Listen, Helena, it’s not you. I really like you, and maybe… maybe we can have something someday, but I’m going through things right now. It’s just not the right time. It’s hard to explain, something with you would have to be serious, it’s just...”
“Oh! But it’s the right time for that little bitch Angela at the club, and maybe her girlfriend to boot!”
“No, no. That’s different. She means nothing to me,” he responded. “I have to sort things out for a while. Be a little patient with me. If it’s right, it will be.”
“Sounds like lines from a song,” answered Helena. She turned away to listen to the music.
Jason considered what it might be like to have feelings towards a human. He both liked and disliked the sensation. There was something inside him that did have feelings for Helena, but even thinking about it made him feel uncomfortable. He turned his head, “Maybe I should just be alone. I need to think about things; I need to figure this out. I am going to go. I’ll see you later.”
“What!” she exclaimed. “You’re going to leave in the middle of the concert? What did I say? I just… I meant that I want us… to see if we could…”
Jason turned away suddenly. “Listen, I just have to be alone right now.”
Helena stood there bewildered and confused. She longed to break through to him. His mind always seemed to be in another place, just out there. Yet he was kind when he wanted to be. He was funny and witty when he wanted to be, but he was so strange. One minute he was intense and into you, and the next minute he was just floating out there someplace. I am always interested in the unavailable ones.
Helena had a history of chasing men who seemed determined to remain encased in stone. She blamed much of it on her distant father, who, for all the music and joy within him, was usually stoned and mostly absent. He broke my mother’s heart a thousand times, she thought.
Her father had been the center of her life, with his deep, bluesy voice and his fingers that danced across the piano. But on the night, he returned to the house, stumbling, three days after stepping out to grab a pack of cigarettes, she and her mother left for good. And eight years later, here she was, reliving her mother’s mistakes with Jason.
Everything came alive for me in New York, she thought. My life opened up when the music started. Jason is different. He is really, really out there. He is very special, gorgeous, and what talent he has! There is something in him I have never seen in anyone. He never takes off those sunglasses. Really, I think he must shower in them… What a strange guy. Damn! Why doesn’t he let me in?
Jason walked out of the hall and opened the stage door to the street. She does not see that it isn’t just about yes or no. I cannot fall into Mark’s world; I have to keep my control. He had put everything out of his mind, but Helena lingered. As curious as he was about Mark’s adventure, he feared the consequences, and of course there was the band to think about. He started to walk downtown, thinking now of Angela’s invitation to party. Maybe I should find her. What would be the harm in a little experimentation with Angela? I know she is very experienced, and if someone gets hurt, at least it won’t be Helena.
Jason waved a cab and pulled the paper out of his pocket. He read her address to the cabby.
“Four hundred fifty East 12th Street. Take FDR drive. It’s quicker at this hour.”
The cabby replied, “Whatever you say, boss. It’s your money.”
The cab found its way to the address in fifteen minutes, and Jason hopped out. Just as he approached the door, he saw Angela, Rachel, and Silvia walking out of their apartment building.
“Hey, Jason! What are you doing here? I hope you’re in a fun mood, because we are!”
“Yeah,” he answered. “I want to take you up on your invitation.”
Chapter 18: The Casino
The girls were heading downtown. Silvia had just gotten in from the West Coast and was crashing at Angela and Rachel’s place.
“All I want to do is go out,” exclaimed Silvia, excitedly. “We’re all going gambling. If you want to play, you will just have to come!”
Silvia, who was half-Chinese, used to date this “Tong” guy who ran some gambling parlors in Chinatown. “I know the casino scene in Chinatown,” she continued.
“Gambling... This will be fun,” said Jason.
Angela grabbed Jason’s arm and whispered, “And maybe you’ll get to win me later!”
They all piled into a cab. Silvia bellowed out, “We’re going to Chinatown! I’ll tell you where to go once we hit Canal Street. It’s too complicated to explain now.” The cabby nodded as they shut the door.
When they reached Canal Street, Silvia leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Okay, turn here. Go down to the Bowery and then turn downtown. When you get to Division, take a left.” While Silvia was busy with the driver, Angela and Rachel turned to Jason. They had sandwiched him between them.
“So, you’re really hot for him, huh, Angela? I don’t blame you. He is really cute.” She put her head on Jason’s shoulder. “I kind of think you’re hot myself,” she whispered into his ear.
Jason laughed. “You girls are a trip!”
“Speaking of a trip, can you tell we all just dropped some acid? Sandoz, pure pharmaceutical grade! Silvia brought it back from the West Coast,” said Rachel. “You can never find this stuff here. My God, what beautiful colors there are in the streets here in Chinatown! And those buildings are starting to melt!”
Angela responded, “Wow, this is great stuff! I think my legs have just turned into orange marmalade.”
Silvia pounded on the back of the driver’s seat. “We’re here! Stop! It’s that red door, next to the dress shop.” The cab pulled over to the curb, and they all climbed out.
All three girls were dressed to kill. Two were wearing mini-skirted silk dresses cut to their thighs and high heels. Silvia’s dress had a Chinese dragon printed on it. Angela was wearing red. Rachel’s dress was longer with a dark blue stripe running up one side, and the other side had a slit that stopped high on her thigh. All three outfits were clearly meant to provoke. Together, they lit up the street like a French Cabaret.
They reached the door and encountered a collection of buzzer boxes strung with wires dangling like a bowl of leftover noodles. None of the boxes displayed legible names, save for some faded scribble that echoed Chinese calligraphy, although most appeared like runny stains on a tablecloth.
Silvia chose the correct buzzer instinctively. “Been gor ah!” A man answered from the box. “Who is it?”
Silvia
responded in Chinese. A buzzer rang down the hall, and then another rang from a door under the stairs. The second door opened, and a large Chinese man dressed in black emerged. Silvia spoke to him in Cantonese. The guy knew her, but her guests needed an introduction.
Only the most trusted would be allowed to bring a non-Chinese person there. The club was the exclusive domain of the Chinatown underground, reserved for the gangs and gamblers of the Asian mafia. It provided gambling, drugs, and women. The women had been brought in from China to be used exclusively by the club’s patrons.
Jason felt comfortable here, for he had spent a lot of time in the East. He loved the dark and dingy clubs of Bangkok, the back alleys of Hong Kong, and the wily streets of Saigon. He was fluent in all of the languages used on earth, but he had to be careful not to reveal this ability. He preferred to just nod in recognition when spoken to.
They walked down a dark flight of stairs and met another door protected by a bouncer. Then they passed through a long tunnel and emerged into a large red hall. The casino was set directly underneath the Manhattan Bridge. These underground vaults had once been a storehouse for construction equipment, but they had been abandoned for years. Recently, they had been discovered by some workmen and nabbed by a man named Sing. Sing was Silvia’s old boyfriend. He ran most of the casinos in Chinatown. Pleasure was his business; gambling, sex, and drugs his currency.
Off the main gambling room was a series of corridors and smaller rooms. Some housed private poker games, some were designated for smoking opium, and others served to satisfy more carnal pleasures.
Silvia led the way, and upon entering the room shouted, “Gnor fahn lay lah!” and ran over to Sing, throwing her arms around him. She continued to speak in Cantonese. “Hello baby, did you miss me?”
“Of course I did,” he replied. “Life has been a bore without you around here… And I see you brought Rachel! Hi darling, you know I miss you too.”
Soteria- The Crisis Forge Page 10