[Marvin's] World of Deadheads

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[Marvin's] World of Deadheads Page 25

by Paul Atreides


  Thirty minutes into the concert, she stopped to introduce a few of the band members. Each one brought loud acceptance from a houseful of patrons. “And, finally, I really need to thank my friend and conductor. I think you all remember him, don’t you? Tommy, turn around and take a bow. Tommy Dorsey, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Dorsey turned, raised his baton and saluted. When the decibels of clapping lowered, Judy sang for another twenty minutes. “Word filtered to the stage there’s a gentleman here who thought I was a washed up old dead broad his grandmother used to listen to.” The crowd booed. “I’m only forty-nine for crying out loud.” She peered out into the seats. “Is that old?” The audience replied with audible no’s. “As for the dead broad part — well, I suppose that’s true, but it’s pretty nice once you get over here.”

  She broke into “Over the Rainbow” amid cheers and another standing ovation. As the music continued she interjected, “It’s not all bad. I mean, we’re all here, we’re havin’ a good time — at least I think we’re having a good time. Are we having a good time?” Her fans roared approval. “I suppose things over here can be hard sometimes, too. But when that happens, I hope you’ll all think about this next song.” She launched into “Get Happy” to the delight of everyone.

  As the applause thundered, Marvin leaned into Tommy’s ear. “Was she talking to me?”

  “Could be, dude, could be.”

  “And?” Marvin nudged him, but Tommy didn’t look at him and didn’t see the darkness around Marvin lift a tiny bit, or that Marv’s form became a little sharper again.

  After the fourth encore ended with a reprise of “Over the Rainbow,” Judy took her final bow and the curtain closed.

  The three of them made their way out of the theater amidst the flowing crowd of deadheads and Tommy posed the question, “Was that awesome, or what?”

  “It was. And, okay, I take it back — she’s not some washed up old broad. Jesus H., she’s got some pipes, doesn’t she?”

  “So, you weren’t —,”someone pushed through Mike. “Hey, lady, watch it! Where’re you in such a rush to get to anyway?” He turned back to Marvin. “You weren’t disappointed?”

  “Hell no! I mean, at first I thought we were headed to someplace like Madison Square Garden.”

  “To see who, dude? Janis Joplin or somebody like that?”

  “Exactly. Maybe more like —”

  “Janis doesn’t play New York, dude. Sinatra, yeah. Sammy Davis, Jr, maybe. In fact, if you wanted the whole Rat Pack, we could hit Vegas. But if you want to see the likes of Janis, you have to hit the west coast.” Tommy drew a large breath and changed his speech as if holding in the hit of a doobie, “And be ready to do some major recreational stuff, if you catch my drift.”

  “Would you stop interrupting me, ya schmuck!” Marvin gave Tommy his signature smack. “To finish answering your question, Mike, I’m not sorry in the least. She’s awesome.” Marvin wondered if Judy would know about this comment, but he wasn’t in the mood for any of Tommy’s instructional seminars and changed the subject. “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for a flight back.”

  Mike stopped short. “Wait. We’re going back already? Do we have to?”

  “What else is there to do? It’s 4:00 A.M. I suppose we could hit an after-hours club.”

  “Nah, that’s really not what I had in mind, Tommy.”

  “What then?”

  “Well…It’s just that…”

  “Dude, spit it out! What?”

  Mike gave them a sheepish grin. “I’ve always wanted to stay at the Plaza. Can we?”

  -47-

  Marvin and Tommy leafed through the copy of the New York Times Tommy had snatched from in front of the suite across the hall on the top floor of the Plaza Hotel and drank coffee while they waited for Mike to emerge.

  “Holy shit, he’s sleeping late,” Marvin commented.

  “Yeah, more often than not, I’m the last one to crawl out. But, it was a late night, dude. Besides, we got nowhere special to be, do we?”

  “I guess not.” Marvin scanned the room, “Besides, this place is nice. My mother would be jealous. This is the kind of luxury she’s always aspired to.”

  “Coffee’s pretty rank by now,” Tommy said when Mike wandered out. “Want me to make fresh?”

  Mike yawned and stretched. “Nah. I’ll deal. Shit! What a night… The guy rolled through me and woke me up three times.”

  Marvin looked up from his section of paper. “You mean someone was actually in there?”

  Mike plopped onto the chair. “Yeah.”

  “Dude, why didn’t you just come into my room?”

  “I had the master bedroom, I didn’t want to give that up.” Mike took a sip of his coffee. “Blech! That is nasty!”

  “Tommy offered to make a fresh pot for you.”

  “I know. But I know I slept late. I’ll down this, and then we can head back.” Mike took another sip, screwed his face into a grimace, and vocalized his distaste.

  Marvin waved off Mike’s growl. “Tommy, make him some fresh coffee, would you? So we don’t have to listen to him whine.”

  Mike flipped him off. “Look who’s talking about whining.”

  “Chill out, Mike. Relax. Take your time.”

  “What, don’t you want to get home? You’re always so antsy to get back —”

  Marvin took a fast glance at the time display on the microwave in the kitchen. “Hey, don’t look a gift horse, as the saying goes. I’m enjoying this. I’m in no hurry. The one o’clock flight is fine with me.”

  Mike glanced down at his watch, his eyes opened wide and he jumped out of his chair. “Shit! It’s past eleven-thirty. We’ll never make it.”

  Marvin launched into a big belly laugh. “Jesus H! Mike, sit down. Don’t you know by now when I’m yanking your chain?”

  “Coffee should be ready in a few minutes. I only made half a pot. That okay, Mike?” Tommy asked returning to the couch.

  Mike went to the kitchen, dumped the burned coffee down the drain and rinsed his cup. He pulled the carafe from the brewer and stuck his cup under the flow, then swapped again when his cup was full. “Toss me a section, Brody.” He held his hand out as he passed Marvin on the way back to the chair.

  The only sounds in the room for more than an hour came from the sips of coffee, cups being set back down on tables, and the rustle of newspaper pages.

  Tommy folded his part of the paper and set it down as he stood up and stretched. “Well, I think I’ll go shower and get dressed.”

  “I’ll follow suit in a couple minutes, just let me finish this article first. You going to shower Brody?” Mike asked, his eyes still following along the text.

  “Already did. Is anyone else getting hungry yet?”

  “Sort of,” Tommy said before he disappeared through the wall to the bedroom he’d used.

  “Mike?”

  “Hm?”

  “You hungry?”

  “I guess.” Mike folded the section of paper and held it out to Marvin as he stood to head for his shower. “Interesting piece… gives me an idea for when we get back. Page D6, bottom right. I do believe this just might do the trick. Think about it, between the three of us, we’ve pretty much tried everything else.”

  Marvin opened to the page and raised his eyebrows as he read the article. He nodded. The darkness crept back over him and the definition of his body blurred a bit again. “Maybe… Hell, I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before.”

  During the next two days Tommy led them around New York City, more for Mike’s benefit than anything since he was the only one who had never visited. Tommy dragged them to every tourist-y place he could think of, doing his best to mess with the living to keep his charges entertained. Mike laughed at the antics and joined in from time to time. They were too busy having fun to notice the increasing darkness that crept around Marv, who followed along, but was preoccupied with the latest plot to take care of Jenna once and for all. Neither n
oticed the way more and more deadheads skirted around them giving a wider and wider berth, or the concerned looks that passed over faces the minute they laid eyes on Marvin.

  -48-

  Mid-morning, three days after the concert while they sat in the deli, Tommy continued to object to Marv’s latest plan and tried to map out his line of reasoning. “Dudes, no. I don’t think we should do it.”

  “Nothing else has worked.”

  A sensation of dread crept over Tommy. “No, Mike. I don’t like it.”

  Marvin studied him. “What’s the problem? This would definitely work, wouldn’t it?”

  “Too painful. Dude, it makes my stomach cramp just thinking about it. Nobody should have to endure that kind of pain.”

  “What pain, ya schmuck? She’ll be dead!”

  The handful of deadheads in the restaurant got deathly quiet and turned to listen to the commotion.

  “Keep your voice down.” Tommy glared at Marvin. When the other deadheads turned their attention back to their own conversations he leaned across the table, pushed a finger toward Marvin, and berated him in a low voice. “Don’t tell me about pain, Marvin. Okay? I know pain. You think those bullets felt good ripping into me? It hurt. No, dude, they fucking hurt like hell. And the pain didn’t stop until I lost consciousness from bleeding.”

  Mike put a hand on Tommy’s arm to draw his attention. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m sorry it hurt so much. We didn’t know, did we Brody?” When Marvin didn’t respond, Mike kicked him under the table. “Did we, Brody?”

  “No… we didn’t. And I’m sorry, hippie. Honest. But look, it’s all we have left to try.”

  Tommy got up from the table. “Go ahead then. But count me out. And don’t come looking for my help when it’s done.”

  “What are you talking about? I think it’d be perfect. No one would suspect a thing. Nobody gets in trouble and sent to jail for killing her; everyone would think it was suicide,” Mike explained.

  “Yeah, see…she’s just too distraught over my death to go on,” Marvin added

  Tommy looked from Mike to Marvin. “I told you. You don’t believe me. Neither one of you. And maybe I can’t actually prove anything but, you just remember, I told you: if you do this, there will be dire consequences.”

  “Like what? Tommy, you haven’t —”

  Tommy fixed a steady, wordless gaze on Mike.

  Marvin stood up. “Hey, wait a minute. Then why did you jump in on the other attempts if you thought there would be nasty consequences?”

  “Because I knew they’d end up as stupid pranks, Marvin! Well, at least I thought so at the time. That whole bus incident was stupid of me; I should’ve refused to help with that because she really could’ve been killed. I’m backing out now, because this is different, dude; this will actually do it. This is serious shit.”

  “Fine.” Marvin started toward the kitchen. “Then just tell me where it is. I think I can handle pouring a little drain cleaner into her coffee without your help.”

  All conversations — the deadhead ones, anyway — again came to a halt. The dead sat glued to their seats, nervous anticipation increased, and the atmosphere in the room became tense.

  “Marvin!” Marvin stopped and turned around to face him and Tommy stared directly into his eyes. He waited for a light bulb to turn on; for a sign, any sign, some glimmer of understanding of the gravity of the plan. When Tommy didn’t see any glimmer of hope, he continued. “I get it that you love her. I get that you miss her. We all leave behind people we care about. But, she’ll die, Marvin. Do you get that? She’ll die. It’ll be a very painful death. And what if she finds out it was you, then what? Well, I, for one, want nothing to do with it.” He paused, a deep sadness came over him, his gaze fell to the worn floor of the deli and he slowly shook his head. “And if you do this Marvin… I don’t think I want anything to do with you.” He turned to Mike with tears flowing down his cheeks. “Mike, come on, man. Leave with me. Now. Don’t be a part of this. Please, dude!”

  Tommy waited until he could see a decision on Mike’s face and turned to walk out but stopped dead in his tracks.

  Mike’s momentum propelled him through Tommy. “Ugh! Why’d ya…” Mike halted.

  Jason and Nancy stood in the deli just inside the doors. Deadheads scattered to the edges of the dining room. Tina-I’ll-Be-Your-Server-Today turned back toward the dining area and stood stunned and confused by all the cups and glasses that appeared out of nowhere.

  Marvin stopped near the edge of the order counter and broke into a smile. He started to cross to the two deadheads who had just entered. “Nancy! I wondered if I would see you again.” The smile disappeared when she put a hand out to stop him and shook her head. He halted when the old man standing next to her spoke his name.

  “Marvin, I done tried to warn you. Mo’n once.”

  Marv attempted to turn to Nancy for help, for some explanation, but the old man’s eyes, those deep, dark but brilliant eyes, held him immobile.

  Nancy turned to the old man, her mentor and teacher. “Can’t I do anything to help change this?”

  “You done all what you could on that ship.”

  “There has to be a way.”

  “You see how he be faded already. He ain’t gon’ change.” The old man gave her a slow shake of his head. “You gon’ hafta learnt someday, chile. They ain’t all worth savin’.”

  All the deadheads heard his words, except Mike, Tommy, and Marvin, who were held in his gaze. Everyone watched in mounting fear as the old man’s form altered. He straightened and his height soared over them all, yet an unfamiliar weariness still furrowed his brow.

  Nancy touched his coat sleeve. “You look tired, Jason.”

  He filled his lungs with air, and let it out in a slow, deliberate breath. And his speech pattern began to change. ““I’m just getting full. Why do you think we need more like you? The centuries are catching up with me.”

  “Then save yourself the effort and the room.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  Nancy looked over at Marvin, who stood stock still with eyes wide just like every other deadhead in the place. Tina muttered to herself and bustled about to prepare for the lunch crowd.

  After what seemed like hours to the deadheads, Nancy leaned toward the old man with her eyes still on Marvin. “Show him.”

  Startled, Jason moved a step away from Nancy and turned her to face him. “It’s never been done. It could be more dangerous than leaving him here.”

  “How? What could be the harm?”

  Jason nodded toward Marvin. “To him, plenty.”

  “Why? How?”

  “It could make him very unstable.”

  “But it might not. You said it’s never been tried. How do we know unless we try?” Nancy’s voice took on a pleading tone.

  “And what if it doesn’t work, what if he can’t handle it?”

  After some thought, Nancy replied with resolve, “Then we take him.”

  The old man turned away from Nancy and thought for a while. He took a small step in Marvin’s direction. “Marvin, you come over here now.” The crowd of deadheads, with the exception of Tommy and Mike, who were still under Jason’s firm mental grip, left the building running in all directions.

  Marvin stumbled and Mike tried to reach out for him but he couldn’t move; his arms remained pinned at his sides. Marvin made his way, shoulders slumped, to stand before Jason and attempted without success to avert his eyes to the floor. With each step closer, the edges of his body blurred more and faded to black.

  Tommy and Mike watched in fear. Suddenly, as if they both received some silent signal, they turned and fled.

  When Marvin stood before him, Jason spoke. “You made quite an impression on my replacement. She’s a remarkable being, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Marvin only nodded.

  “I’m old, Marvin. Older than you could possibly even guess. I’ve seen things that would curl your toes; perhaps send you running, cry
ing and babbling like a baby. I wonder…” Jason paused and gazed out the window, though his eyes never focused on any one thing. “If she’s to replace me one day soon, I wonder if she should be the one to take you. I wonder if she’s strong enough yet.” He returned to face Marvin and his size diminished.

  Nancy blew out a soft sigh of relief. Jason had come to a decision.

  “Look at me, Marvin. Here. Right in here,” Jason pointed to his eyes. “I want you to see. I’m going to show you something. Something no one else has ever witnessed. Look deep. I want you to see what you’ve wanted to see, what you’ve wanted to know for so many months.”

  Jason’s eyes grew huge and ever more deep.

  Marv had never seen such eyes. He was sucked inward; falling, drowning in darkness so deep, and so thick, he might suffocate. Cries of anguish, sorrow, and woe floated up from the dankness. The sounds were faint at first, but the further he became enveloped, the deeper he fell, the higher the decibels grew. His hands clutched his ears, fingers clawing at them to stop the sound from penetrating. He heard screams of anger and pain; suffering of such indescribable depth. Voices cried out in apology and pleaded for forgiveness; begged to be saved, to be released from the prison of misery and eternal night. There came insistent words of a penance paid, innocence of crimes, and misunderstood intentions. Others laughed with such utter cruelty and maniacal hatred he couldn’t escape from the sound of them fast enough.

  It was the pain they had inflicted on others being exacted upon them in turn. In time he began to make out images.

  Men and women of different races and skin color appeared in clothes that represented vast centuries. He became aware of soldiers who carried swords and the crosses of the Crusades; armies of men in togas; mobs of both men and women, naked, who wielded clubs fashioned from tree branches and bone. He stood in the presence of despots and dictators, rapists and murderers, child molesters and torturers, abusers and sadists.

  Tortured faces swam up from the black ink, legs flailed and arms reached out toward him, to grab him and hold him forever in clutched fingers. His attempts to scream became whimpers through his constricted throat. He tried to break away. No matter which way he turned, no matter where he ran, he met more faces of rage and outrage. A tightness gripped his chest and his mind reeled. His breath burst from his lungs in heavy panting, his limbs ached with a soreness he’d never known could exist, his stomach cramped up in agony until he cried out, in terror and weary anguish, for help.

 

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