by Steve Shadow
Despite all the hurtful associations she and I carried from our past I was glad to hear from her. She sounded cheerful and in good spirits. “Shelly, it’s really good you called. How have you been?”
“Great, Steve. I got a new job at an insurance company; nice people.”
“Hey, good for you; I’m happy to hear it. Where are you staying now?”
“We got a place in Rogers Park. Not too far from you.”
“We; who’s the we?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I want you to meet my boyfriend, his name is Mickey. I told him all about you and we want to get together.”
“Sure, that sounds great. Why don’t you guys come over Friday night? We can get high and go out to eat or go to Biddy’s and catch some blues. Koko Taylor is going to be there. That will give you a chance to meet my girlfriend Martha. She’s a physical therapist. You know that normally I would ask you all kinds of questions about Mickey but I have to run. Surprise me on Friday. How about you guys come by around 7?”
“Good, good, see you then, Steve.”
I hung up the phone. I felt happy for Shelly. She had been depressed for so long that it was usually a drag to talk to her. Now she sounded like a different person. This Mickey must really be making her happy.
I grabbed my keys and headed out to the car. I was picking Martha up from her gym and taking her to lunch. Over the meal I told her about Shelly and the plans for Friday night. Martha lived in an apartment on the block next to mine. That is how I met her. We were both walking home from the corner grocery after getting off the El train when her bag burst in front of me and fruit spilled all over the sidewalk. I helped her gather her groceries up and after introducing ourselves, things took off from there. She was small and built like a gymnast. She was very disciplined, unlike me, but we got along and had been seeing each other for two months. It was an easygoing relationship and we kept it light. She seemed to be looking forward to the weekend. She even came to my place a little early with some groceries and proceeded to make a bunch of snacks.
When the bell rang I jumped up to answer it and buzzed Shelly in. In a minute or so I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and that was my first glimpse of Mickey. Martha and I were both knocked out. Shelly seemed to glow in his presence. “How do you like my pretty boy?” she asked.
After all the introductions were made we sat and had some wine. It was hard to keep our eyes off him. He could have stepped off the pages of Esquire magazine. I asked him about modeling but he just laughed it off. I offered to roll a joint but Mickey jumped up and said, “No man, let me do the honors. I got some sweet shit with me; primo from Columbia. You guys are gonna’ love this.”
Mickey was always in motion. On any one else his behavior would have seemed like that of a speed freak but that is just the way he was. He expertly rolled a couple of doobie’s. I put on some Santana and we toked up. He was right about the boo; it was definitely primo. We got stupid high and laughed all the way through “Low Spark of High Heeled Boys.” While we lazed around on the couch his spark remained high.
We finally made it to Carmen’s, a local Italian restaurant that was so good we never told any one about it. Carmen was a great guy and always made sure we ate well and even carried me when I was low on cash. Mickey ate like he did everything else and polished off all the food put in front of him. Carmen loved him for the way he ate and kept calling him Mr.Adonis.
Mickey told us he was from Detroit. He was only 23 and quite the athlete. He and Martha got into all that jock talk that was a foreign language to me and Shelly. Martha said he could probably be a great personal trainer if he took some classes and got certified. Mickey said he would rather just work out. He said he was doing just fine moving dope. Shelly seemed cool with this and I certainly was, as now I had a great source for good stuff. Martha smoked and drank very sparingly as she had to be in shape to conduct her classes. I was real proud of her and had her show off her rippled abdomen to them. She was the only woman I had ever met that had six-pack abs. This led to Mickey jumping up and showing his abs. A lot of the diners began to applaud so Mickey stood on his chair and did some muscle-man poses. Everyone began clapping louder so Mickey hit the floor and began doing one-arm pushups and hand stands. It was quite the night at Carmen’s.
We finished up with some spumoni and coffee. Carmen kissed the girls and hugged the boys and we waddled out of there, happy and sated. We got in the car and toked up on the way to Biddy’s.
The place was packed. The music drowned out everything. Koko Taylor was belting out her signature tune, “Wang Wang Doodle” as we walked in. She was bathed in sweat and the whole place hummed with her energy. Mickey grabbed Shelly and hit the dance floor. Everyone’s eyes were on him. His blond hair flew in all directions and his big white teeth shone like beacons. He was a stunning sight in white jeans and a skin tight black t-shirt. Everyone backed away to give him and Shelly room to move. They made quite the couple. I had never seen her smile and laugh like she did that night.
We closed down the bar, dancing all night and drinking way too much. Martha had to drive as she was the only one who was sober. We drove them home and after a ton of hugs and kisses outside their front door we finally got home. I fell into my bed and crashed for 10 hours. Sometime in the night or early morning, Martha must have left for her workout. I found a note saying she would call later. I kept re-playing the previous night in my head. It was just perfect and I was so happy for Shelly.
Over the course of the summer we saw each other every couple of weeks. Mickey kept me in weed and we ran all over the city. The Jazz and Blues festivals were the summer’s big events. We also demolished our appetites at the Chicago Food Fest. Mickey was a big hit at Beavers, a club we frequented on State Street. On one visit when I introduced him to Baby Huey, who’s band the Babysitters were playing that night, he started singing Huey’s big hit, “Baby, let me bang your Box”. He did this while doing an impromptu little dance and Huey nearly fell over laughing. He was a star.
In early September Martha and I took a trip to Club Med in Playa Blanca, Mexico. We stayed for two weeks and had an incredible time. When we returned I called Shelly to tell her and Mickey about the trip and to see if they wanted to come over and look at the pictures we took. I was told the phone had been disconnected. I drove over to their place but no one was home. I knocked on a neighbor’s door to ask about them. An older lady answered and told me that they had moved a few weeks ago. I was surprised that they would not tell us they were moving.
I told Martha about them that night. She wondered if they hadn’t got into trouble over the dope dealing. I asked around about them but no one seemed to know what had happened. I had no idea who Mickey was involved with nor did I want to know. After awhile I began to forget about Shelly and Mickey and only occasionally thought about what might have happened to them.
SECOND VERSE
It was two years later when I finally heard from Shelly. Martha and I had broken up by then. She wanted commitment leading to marriage and I wanted to stay the eternal slacker. It was not a pleasant break-up and I had been pretty much on my own since we split up. I thought that what we had was perfect and the split left me shaken and unsure of myself.
I was sitting home alone on a Saturday night feeling sorry for myself. I had been lazing around drinking scotch and listening to Joan Baez; a deadly combination. The phone rang and I thought about not answering it. I’m glad I did answer it because it was Shelly. She was incoherent at first.
“Hey, take it easy. What’s wrong? Take a breath and talk to me.”
I could hear her breathing heavily and choking back sobs. “Oh Steve,” She moaned. “It’s Mickey.”
“What happened to Mickey? What happened to you? How come you guys left and didn’t say anything? Jesus: where have you been all this time?”
“I’m sorry. It was Mickey and the drug shit. He was in trouble and we had to get out of town. We didn’t want anyone to kn
ow where we were. I was really scared. He was involved with some bad people. We drifted around for awhile and ended up staying with his aunt in Detroit.”
“Yeah, so why didn’t you call then? I was worried about you two. No one seemed to know anything.”
“It was Mickey. He started getting real paranoid. He was afraid that people were after us. I knew this dope shit would come back to bite us. Well anyway….”
She then started crying again. I couldn’t understand a thing she was saying through all the choking and sobbing. I waited until she calmed down. She was quiet for a long time.
“Mickey got shot. He took a job selling ice cream from a truck. They put him in the ghetto. He got held up by two kids and when he tried that kung-fu stuff he knows, they shot him. He was in the street for a long time until a cop car came by and saw him. Then the idiots lifted him into the police car and took him to the hospital. He was shot in the back and when the cops moved him they severed his spine. Oh Steve, it’s a nightmare. They did all they could but he’s paralyzed from the chest down.”
“Holy shit, Shelly; When did this happen? Christ, I can’t believe it.”
“It was way over a year ago. His family sued the city and he got a big settlement and everything. I tried to stand by him but I couldn’t. It was so hard to see him like that and I, well you know, I am not the strongest person in the world. I started to crack up. I ended up in the hospital for awhile.”
All this was said through tears and coughs and sniffles. I was floored. Mickey, Mickey, that beautiful boy. I was choked up myself and did not know what to say.
“Anyway, I had to get away from him. We stayed with his family in Columbus for awhile. That was bad enough because they were always after him for his choices and, like, making him the reason he got shot. I was falling apart. I had to get out but I felt so guilty that I stayed until I went nuts.”
“Where are you now, Shelly? Is there anything I can do?”
“I’m still in Columbus. I got a crummy little place and a job at the University. I can’t live with him but I can’t just leave him. When the settlement came through he got enough money to get a place of his own. It is all rigged up so that he is pretty self sufficient. He has people come in to help but I have to stay away. Plus I think he may be back in the pot business. I wanted to tell you and Martha about what had happened but I was afraid to involve you guys when we were still on the run. But I guess all that stuff is over now. I thought maybe you could call him. I know he puts on a big front but he’s lonely. Do you think you could talk to him?”
“Of course I can. I want to see you guys. Wow, this call must have been fate; I mean the timing and everything. Clete, you remember him, the film-maker friend of mine? He just told me that he was going to see some musician friend’s of his and they live in a Columbus suburb. Give me your phone number and Mickey’s and I’ll let you know when he wants to go. I think it was in a couple of weeks. He was going on the bus but I can drive us. Oh, I guess I should tell you that Martha and I are not a couple anymore. Just didn’t work out. We wanted different things, you know how it is.”
She didn’t say anything. “Shelly, I am so sorry about all this. You call me any time. Anything you want, I’ll try to help.”
She thanked me and we hung up. I sat staring at the wall for a long time. Then, still half drunk, I began to sob; for Mickey, for Shelly, for myself and for the memories of that blond kid who was so alive. Just to watch him move and dance was an honor. I knew I should call him but dreaded the moment. What could I say? I put my head down on the table and fell into a drunken sleep.
THE BRIDGE
I talked to Clete and told him the whole story. He had met Shelly on what turned out to be a memorable night when we still lived in the suburbs. We had all gone out one night to a club in the city to see Paul Butterfield and Mike Bloomfield. On the way back we got stopped by the cops outside our building. It was a real farce as we knew the cop and saw him every day in the drugstore lunch counter that was on the first floor under our apartments. But he was a real asshole and put Clete through the whole search and arrest shit. We had not done anything wrong but Clete made the mistake of mouthing off to the cop and I had to go bail him out. I had not seen much of Clete since then. We spoke on the phone occasionally but he was busy doing documentary films.
We decided to head for Columbus the next week. I called Shelly and got directions to her place. She was glad I was coming and then asked me if I had talked to Mickey. I lied and told her I had. I dreaded making the call and kept putting it off. Finally I had to do it and picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang six times.
“Hey, yeah, who is it?” said a sleepy voice.
“It’s Steve, man, in Chicago.”
“Steve, hey dude, how did you get my number? Was it Shelly?”
“Yeah, man, she called me and told me the whole story. I’m sorry, dude. How you making out?”
“Great, man, it’s great to hear from you. I’m doin’ good. I got a great set up; my own pad, good weed and lot’s of chicks. Come by anytime. I was thinking of you and planned to call so it’s like a psychic thing.”
“Uh, well, that’s sort of why I’m calling. I’m coming to Columbus on Monday and I thought, you know, we could hang out.”
“Sure, let’s do it. Like I said, I was meaning to call you. Shelly probably told you why we had to book and couldn’t tell anyone. Everything is cool now, man. I do a lot of business out of Chicago. We’ll talk when you get here. You got a pencil? I’ll give you directions. Yeah, sounds great; show you the town. You can stay here, I got beaucoup room and shit.”
“I’ll let you know, Mickey. I’m coming with a friend who is visiting some musicians he knows and I think I’m set to stay there but I’ll call you on Monday when we get there.”
“Cool. Hey how’s Martha? How you guys doing?”
“Well, that’s over. Been over for awhile; I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. You take care Mickey and I’ll see you next week.”
There was a silence on the line. “Oh, sure man, great to talk to you. Stay cool.”
He hung up and I felt empty. Jesus, was that a stupid conversation. I was afraid to bring up his condition. I was so nervous and he sounded just like he always did. I just hoped I could keep it together when we met.
THIRD VERSE
Clete and I left on a freezing cold and cloudy Monday. I was hoping we did not run into a blizzard on the Interstate. January was always tricky when it came to snow. I had a big Pontiac convertible with a new tape deck. We blasted tunes pulling out of Chicago and headed south on 65 to Indianapolis. We hit the bypass and picked up 70 straight into Columbus. It was getting dark when we got there. After driving around for awhile we finally managed to find Clete’s friends house. Unfortunately it was at the top of a small hill and the streets were covered with ice. The car could not get up the incline so we left it at the bottom of the hill and trudged up with our bags.
Clete’s friends were a real nice couple. They were quiet and shy, just like Clete. We had dinner with them and their new baby. After dinner was done and we had cleaned up, they got out their flutes and recorders and starting playing Baroque music. The fireplace was roaring and it was a real nice scene. After the long drive I was so tired that I fell asleep on the couch. I wasn’t much of an audience.
I had called both Mickey and Shelly earlier to tell them I had arrived. I made a date to go over to Mickey’s the next afternoon. Shelly I would see the next day. I did not get much sleep that night. I was on the couch in the living room and the couple’s baby kept crying all night. I was pretty bleary eyed in the morning. After a long leisurely breakfast I told Clete I would be back that night and got ready to go.
I stepped out into the frigid air and slipped and slid down the hill to my car. Mickey did not live too far away and his directions were easy to follow. I pulled up in front of a new apartment building and searched for the entrance. The wind was blowing and the temperature was droppin
g even though it was only one in the afternoon.
I fought the chill on the way to the buildings entrance and was hurled into the lobby by the fierce wind. I found Mickey on the listing of tenants and pushed the button next to his name.
“Hey, Steve, come on in. I’m just through the doorway.”
The door buzzed and with trepidation I went through it. I knocked on his door and after a few seconds it was thrown open and there he was. He was smiling like always and looked much the same. From the chest up it was the old Mickey. His arms were massive and muscled. He was in a wheel chair and his legs were covered with a blanket. He held out his arms and I bent over and hugged him. I could feel the strength in his arms as he held me tight. I could not stop myself and the tears began to flow from my eyes. I stepped back and tried to smile. He kept grinning.
“It’s great to see you, Mickey,” I said while wiping my eyes. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”
He slapped me on the arm. “No big deal, man. Lighten up; I’m cool. Come on in, take a seat. How ‘bout a beer? Wanna’ toke up? I still got the best shit in town. With the University here I got a customer base I can hardly keep up with. You ought to move here and help me out. The money is rolling in.”
I shook my head. “Not me, man. I’m through dealing or any of that shit. My nerves can’t take it: too risky.”
“Sure, man, I can dig it. Hey get us a couple of beers. The kitchen is around the corner. Let’s get high and you can tell me what you been up to. I kinda’ miss Chicago. Man, we had some good times, huh? Shit, man, it’s good to see you “
I got up and as I passed him he reached out and grabbed my arm. I stopped and looked down at him. He had a sad grin on his face. “No, man, I mean it. I really missed you guys.”