Jenny’s hair had completely grayed. I hadn’t seen her since that fateful day in 1962. In a light brown housedress, she sat with her head propped in her left hand, resting on the side of the sofa arm. I found out later she just happened to be visiting a sister in Palm Springs when Karen called her from the hospital. She could only nod a little when she saw Eddie and I. She clutched a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, looking away from us.
Eddie and I approached slowly.
“Sit down,” Blair said to them while she cradled Karen in her arms. Karen’s eyes looked hollow and empty. She looked as if she didn’t know anyone was around her. Karen had not looked up yet. Rather than sitting in front of her and asking her what happened, we could feel that this was not the time and walked to the nurses’ desk to ask about Joey.
Karen rose from where she was sitting and came over to us.
“Never mind,” she spoke to the nurse. “I’ll fill them in.”
Eddie put his arms around her as her tears came again and her mouth quivered like a frightened child. Regaining some small amount of composure, she could only say, “Let’s go outside and talk. I don’t want his mother to hear any of this.”
We walked out onto a balcony and closed the door. She went into her jacket pocket and fumbled for a cigarette. Once she got it out of the wrapping, I lit it for her. She took a long drag and exhaled into the chilly night air.
“When you feel like it,” Eddie said, “tell us what happened. Only when you feel like it. If you don’t want to now, don’t. We’ll stay here with you as long as it takes. So just relax.”
She seemed to be in a state of shock.
“He…” she said slowly. “He…got back from England yesterday and…” Her voice trailed off in tiny spurts. “And…uh…went to his…manager’s…I mean…and…there was a business argument about something that happened in England. Uh…then he…wanted…to…see Jimmy and talk about the disagreement. He called Jimmy after leaving their manager’s office and said he was coming over. On the way over…I…think he must have…stopped…and picked up some…some of the drugs he’s been using lately. When he got to Jimmy’s house he was stoned on something, Jimmy and his wife said. They were going out Christmas shopping and told Joey to sleep it off on their bed, knowing I would be pissed if he came home like that again after promising he’d stop. When Jimmy and his wife came back from shopping, Joey was on their bed breathing real funny and looking like he was turning blue. Jimmy called an ambulance and started walking him around and got him in a cold shower. Jimmy came with him to the hospital. He tried to save his life. He was so out of his mind with worry, the doctors had to send him home.”
“What’s his condition, like, now?” Eddie asked.
“He’s on a life support system. It’s keeping his vital organs functioning. They have to, see, ’cause while…while he was…in the ambulance, he…he stopped breathing…and that’s what’s got them most concerned. That he might have been out long enough to…have shut his…brain down…for good. Right now, he can’t breath on his own. If they turn the machine off, his body won’t respond. A brain scanner is hooked up to see if his breathing will start again.”
Eddie and Karen hugged. She broke off and he leaned against the railing lost in thought. Karen turned and hugged me next.
“I’ve got to go inside and sit with his mother. She can hardly speak. The doctors keep checking on her. Jenny knows nothing about the truth, that it was drugs. We lied to her telling her it was a heart attack. Remember that when you’re around her. At this point all we can do is sit and wait. Wait to see if God’s going to perform a miracle and let him start breathing again on his own.”
She went inside. Eddie and I stood in shock, letting the darkness wash over us like a wave breaking on the shore. After a long time of silence and contemplation, Eddie left the patio. “I’m going to call Kaija and let her know we’ll be here all night.”
I turned and stared straight down four floors at the cold desolate blacktop parking lot. I lapsed into a self-imposed hypnotic state.
I’ll push the pain away. It’s not supposed to be like this. This isn’t the plan. This can’t be really happening.
Later, my attention went to the sound of the sliding glass door as Eddie walked out with two cups of coffee. He handed one to me.
“Thanks. I guess we’ll be praying hard for the next few days.”
“It works. We have to pull him out of this, Johnson.” Eddie’s face showed a mixture of extreme pain and fierce determination. “Why did he have to be so damned stupid to do the hard drugs?”
“I guess the black-death-heroin-monster is more seductive than we are. Man, I swear to God, anybody who tries that shit has got to be out of their ever-lovin’ mind. There’s nothing strong enough to pull them back.”
Eddie breathed heavily and crossed his arms on his chest. “What are we going do if he doesn’t pull through? That little girl will have no father. Karen’s going to be lost without him. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!” he said while turning around out of frustration and kicking the railing.
We took turns impatiently pacing, giving up on trying to sleep, walking to the balcony, praying, and doing the same thing all over again.
My eyes were red and wide open when the first traces of sun crept through the windows. When I could see Eddie wasn’t sleeping either, he suggested we go to the cafeteria for some food. Later in the afternoon, after helping Karen with calls and messages, I found myself standing at a large bay window with Jenny, both of us blankly staring out over Westwood. We were trying to support one another, even though our history had been an uneasy one. Now that I looked back on it, we had actually fought over the possession of Joey Zagarino.
“What am I going to do, Rusty, if he dies?” Jenny cried while wiping her eyes.
“He’s not going to die, Jenny,” I tried to assure her.
“The doctors have said that’s all they can do for him,” she continued. “He has to do the rest himself.”
“He’s got us, Jenny. We’ll pull him through. We’ve always pulled each other through tough situations.”
“It’s this damn business you kids are in. Working all night, no sleep. No wonder his heart gave out. He just couldn’t take it.”
I looked at her and thought about how glad I was that she wasn’t looking at me.
“Rusty…What am I going to do? His father is old. I feel like I’m lost in a nightmare.”
I reached for her hand as we both stood there, seeing our time together marked in terms of Joey’s life. Joey’s outrageousness.
I remembered her separating us in 1962.
How Adele had given the record company letter to me when they left and I had wanted to shove it down her throat.
I saw her ruining our chances for a record deal. The millions of times I cursed her and the rage I felt towards her over the years.
It had to fall away.
I had to forgive Jenny.
If I did, maybe God would let Joey live. She was only a mother weeping for her child.
I thought that every time we were just about to break the mold, climb the mountain to live the dream, the world would fall apart.
“He’s not going to die, Jenny. It’s not over.”
I turned and walked away. When I was alone, I closed my eyes and bowed my head.
“I forgive you, Jenny,” I whispered.
18
The Sound of Silence
After an hour of soundless gloom and prayers to God offering all kinds of deals, I knew that it was time to face my fear.
I slowly turned to Karen.
“Is it okay if I go in and see him now?”
She thought then moved her eyes from the window to Jenny; then to Blair, sitting on the edge of the couch ready to help; and back to me.
“Yes, I think so,” she said softly. She was growing weaker by the hour. “Just tell the nurse there.”
I slowly stood and walked like a man on his way to the gas chamber. Eddie interce
pted me and put a comforting arm on my shoulder.
“You going in to see him?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, I thought I’d try.” I said this while looking at the floor and got an image of myself looking like a five year old ready to cry. “You want to come in with me?”
Eddie considered this for a moment. “No…I think you should go by yourself and come to terms with it. Karen wants me to call all these people back and ask them to either not come down or to come later at night.”
“Cool,” I said. “I understand.” I touched Eddie’s elbow as if to say thanks for being here and walked to the nurse’s station by myself as Eddie turned back to the phones.
The nurse lead me into the room where Joey was. As she shut the curtains, I looked up to see Joey for the first time.
He was in a prone position like a fallen Czar on a platform where his subjects could come and pay homage—or mourn. The machine that was connected to him was laboring—forcing his body to breathe. Joey’s body, naked to the waist and swollen from the number of tubes and hoses running in and out of every opening, appeared sallow in color. Ashen. A large plastic tube was in his mouth, running to the respirator held at each side by the mouthpiece by white surgeon’s tape. A smaller tube, looking like it was made of rubber, was split and ran up each nostril. IVs were in his arms. Small wires with little circular rubber tips were pasted to his head at the temples. The same type of wires were connected to his chest.
His beard looked to be about a week old, and for a moment I felt so helpless I actually thought the only thing I could do to help my young friend was to shave him. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
It was an unbelievable sight. My eyes filled with tears that ran down my face, like tiny streams of agony—not wanting to assimilate or process through my now shattered emotions just what was going on here. I closed my eyes and prayed.
“God, help us fools.”
My tears fell on Joey’s arm.
“Give Joey another chance. He’s got a small daughter who needs his love so much. We need his gifts so much, heavenly Father. Please, Father, make him breathe.”
Shock, like hot lead, traveled through my veins. My heart leaped so hard inside of my chest that I felt faint and the small room started spinning. I saw a small, brown vinyl covered stool with wheels and went for it, taking big gulps of air.
A pretty black nurse with beautiful steel blue eyes appeared at the curtain opening. She had heard my foot noise and sudden deep breathing.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly.
“It’s a shock seeing him motionless,” I said, turning my head to the woman. “He…uh…is about the most active person I know.”
“If you’re not up to it, or if you want some water, you just tell me, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She turned and walked away, closing the curtains behind her. The pale green curtains that now surrounded Joey hung in silent gloom—occasionally moving slightly as nurses and doctors tended the critically ill and injured. I closed my eyes and rubbed them. I reached out to hold Joey’s left arm just below the elbow, just below where all the tubes were. His skin felt dry and cold to the touch. I could feel Joey’s pulse.
“Come on Joey, come out of it,” I said in a low whisper. “Please…Please come out of it.”
The rising and falling of the respirator was the only sound in the room. I turned and stared at Joey’s face for what seemed like an eternity. He looked older. I thought how the doctors had told Karen that they were giving him brain wave tests every few hours, and the results up to now weren’t very positive.
“If I had been with you, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I don’t think you can hear me, but I’ll say it anyway. I love you, Joey. Snap out of this, man. Come on. There’s a lot of music in you. You’ve got to mix the stuff you brought from England and we gotta do my vocals on the Mr. Jones album. I learned all the songs perfectly just like you told me. We’re a team. Me, you, and Eddie. So come on…Wake up, would ya?”
The whoosh sound of the respirator continued in its steady rhythm of support. The light from above his bed shined down and made little shadows glide across the side of his face, a face that didn’t move. It was void of all the outrageous animation he was noted for.
I touched his hand and squeezed it gently. When there was no response, I squeezed it a little harder.
Nothing.
I hung my head and cried silently. With an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, all I could do in the way of communicating with my friend was touch his arm.
“Good night, Joey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I finally turned to leave. As I left, I thought of the day that Joey and I had cut our fingers and became blood brothers in music forever.
19
I’m Comin’ Home
Joey Zagarino was laid to rest on January 4, 1973 at Forest Lawn Cemetery, Burbank, California, across from the Warner Brothers Studios. He was only twenty-six years old. He was nominated for a Grammy for his work on the song “Ain’t Nobody Home” from the B.B. King album Live in London.
Eddie and I stood by Joey’s coffin as the crowd of mourners walked towards their cars.
“I guess we’re down to one,” I said, as if communicating with the other side of life.
Eddie looked at me. “What do you mean?”
I stared ahead, transfixed. “You’re going to think I’m really weird on this one.”
Eddie laughed. “Of course you’re weird. You’re my best friend!”
I smiled. “Okay, here goes. I’ve always had this feeling that since you were born three months ahead of Joey and me, and Joey and I were born within forty eight hours of one another, that you came to earth first, to accomplish something really huge, and once you saw that it was going to be a little tougher than you thought, you summoned your two best friends as your guardian angels to come through the veil and help you. Where did I read that a whole human life is about the same time as the blink of an eye in heaven?”
“Wow, Rusty. Where’d you get that?”
“I think because my mom is a Cherokee Indian she placed some faith in me that I’ve never been able to figure out.”
The rhythm of life and music died within me when Joey was buried. I understood now what I’d read about a broken heart being an actual sickness that one can die from. I wasn’t suicidal, but I felt such an extreme sadness that Eddie sensed that I couldn’t handle it. My euphoria with life screeched to a mind-degenerating halt.
Eddie placed several calls to me over the next few weeks, sometimes hearing my slurred speech brought on by drinking—if I decided to pick up the phone at all. I had locked myself in my apartment and wouldn’t come out.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking right now, remember your dad’s problem,” Eddie said one evening when we spoke on the phone.
“I know, I know,” I agreed. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.” My voice was escalating in anger and extreme confusion. “I can’t believe it’s all gone down the toilet…Again and again. What the hell are we, Olmos? Insane masochists! Why can’t we get off this damn train and live normal lives! It’s all gone, Eddie. All of it! We’ve lost.”
I sighed heavily and then said to my friend in exasperation, “Anyway, I got an offer to go on the road. I’m gonna take it.”
Eddie said, “Good. I’ll miss you, but I can’t think of a better time to vamoose. Head for the hills. Split, big time. There’s nothing going on here now, man. You could tour the United States, get your head out of the L.A. thing and adjust to where Joey’s gone. Time to take a break. By the time you’re back, you’ll have saved money and we can start over.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I twirled the end of my shoulder length hair, gazing into another world.
As I studied the landscape from the tour bus window, I wondered about all the years with Eddie and Joey. The void and sadness lingered within me month after month. So much excess was available on the road, I took advantage of it to fo
rget. Sometimes after drinking too much, I’d wake up with women I’d only met briefly at the gig the night before.
That short road trip would turn into a year and a half. I sang in every major city in the U.S., came to terms with Joey’s death, and called Eddie once or twice a month. Eddie told me over the phone he was teaching himself how to play piano and sang with a group of guys from Montebello called Elijah. A few other short-lived groups played clubs with Eddie’s help, but nothing concrete came from these ventures—only rent money and a few new connections.
I decided enough time had been spent away from home and gave my notice to the touring band.
I drove up in front of Karen’s house. A deep strangeness went through my bones as I saw the house where it had all happened. A great sadness fell over me as I gazed upon the house that could have been paradise for all of us. Now it was shrouded in lost dreams.
The Tramp Machine welcomed me in the front yard as Karen, Eddie, and Kaija prepared a welcome home dinner inside the home. I rubbed Tramp’s head tenderly.
“Strange without Joey, huh, Tramp? So damned strange.”
After dinner and a few road stories, I gave into the temptation to revisit the studio we’d built with Joey. The moment Eddie opened the heavy soundproof door, my heart raced nervously.
“God, man…I haven’t been in here in almost two years. Spooky.” I ran my fingers along the paneled walls that led to the control booth. I whispered, “He’s in here.”
“I know. I swear, Rusty, I thought one night I heard him laughing while I was here alone mixing.” Eddie smiled warmly. “Didn’t scare me, though. I liked it.”
I turned from the control board. “Have you recorded anyone since I’ve been gone?”
“Yeah. I tried some songs with Jerry McGee and some Gary Etree stuff. Did several of my own. Place still sounds perfect.” Eddie joined me behind the control board. “I can still see him sitting here…laughing that shit-eating laugh of his.” Eddie sighed. “Drugs took our boy. Took our dream.”
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