924

            by Clio Bernhardson-Massolo

 

            Kim and I strutted into the Gilman, membership cards and five bucks in hand.  There were three bands playing that night, and she said the headlining band was not to be missed. The mohawked kid taking the money glanced up at us and caught my eye.

            "Hey, Jackie, Kim, what's up?" he greeted us.

            "Heya Mike," I replied, "Kim's dragging me to another show. What do you know about these guys, they any good?"

            "Naw, dude, they kinda suck. I'm volunteering for the hell of it, but really there's no reason to be here tonight." He scratched his cheek in thought. "I've heard hella shit about the guitarist, though, he's one crazy fucker."

            "Hey now," Kim interjected, "Joey has some issues but the band kicks ass."

            "Yeah, sure. You guys move your asses inside, you're holding up the line." He waved us on to get our inner wrists stamped with 'Maximum Rock and Roll.'

            The inside of the club was as dim and dungeon-like as ever. The show hadn't even started yet and already the room reeked of cigarette smoke. Kim and I laid ourselves across a lumpy couch and set about admiring the graffitied walls and ceilings.

            "So wait, do you know this guy, Joey? I thought this was just some random band." I asked her, readjusting myself to sit cross-legged on the wasted blue denim couch.

            Kim raised her eyebrows and looked at the floor, a movement I'd never seen her do before. A light flush crept up her usually pale cheeks. "We went to the same high school, that's all." She paused and looked at the stage, where the first band was setting up.

            "How well did you know him?"

            "Oh, not super well." A grin started playing on her lips. "I just wanted to see him again, see how he's doing." I laughed and shook my head, then looked up at the stage towards the thumps of the drummer getting warmed up.

            The opening band started off with a huge feedback screech, and only got worse from there. The lead singer stomped around stage, hurling out phrases like "Feed my clock, it's getting late!" I had just settled myself down on the couch we had claimed with a fanzine when Kim signaled over the noise that she was going outside to have a smoke. I nodded and let her go, immersing myself within pages of reviews for albums I had never heard of. When the band finished up their set and Kim still hadn't come back inside, I filtered out the side door with the rest of the crowd to see what had kept her.

            The air outside was sharp on my cheeks, and I hugged my black jacket to myself for warmth. People were huddled together in groups of three or four, but I didn't see Kim anywhere. "Goddamit, Kim, you make me chase you everywhere," I muttered to myself. She must have gone back around to the front of the club. I hurried through the front entrance. Mike was still sitting there, trying to bum a cigarette off a patron.

            "Hey Mike," I said. "How's the shift going?"

            "I tell ya, Jackie, it'd be a hell of a lot better if people weren't so stingy with their smokes," He replied. "Where's Kim?"

            "I was gonna ask you that, kid. You haven't seen her?"

            "No, but I haven't been paying attention, either. She probably sneaked past me."

            "Fuck." I thought for a second. "So what's so fuckin' crazy about this guitarist? Did he kill anyone or something?"

            "I just heard he did hella drugs and shit, he's got a pretty psycho stage act, too. Word on the street is he don't do too poorly with the chicks either." Mike tilted his head back and laughed.

            "Goddamn. I better go find Kim then, make sure he's not getting her into any trouble. See ya."

            Once past the entrance room I scanned the main floor for anyone I might recognize. The second band, consisting of three slight japanese girls,  was beginning to play full-throttle punk rock with remarkably huge vocals. I spotted Mara immediately from her bright orange hair and the fact that she was the only one in the crowd interested in starting a mosh pit. I pushed my way through the clusters of people and tapped her on the shoulder, and she whipped around in surprise.

            "It's Jackie! I haven't seen you in hell of long!" She looked around dazedly with drunken eyes, her familiar lisp returning despite years of speech therapy. She wrapped her arms around me, and I staggered in the direction of a nearby couch, where I gently laid her down.

            "I don't suppose you've seen Kim, Mara? Bitch left me in the middle of the first set. I'm getting kind of worried about her."

            "Umm... Kim? Oh, Kim! Yeah, wait, gimme a minute..." Mara rested her head back and closed her eyes. "Yeah, Kim, I saw her outside a while ago with this guy."

            "Christ, what guy? How could she be with some guy and not tell me?" I sat back in disbelief.

            "Oh, you know, the guy from the headliner, that crazy guitarist. I heard he shot a man in Reno just to watch him die," she giggled wildly, "Wait, no, I lied. But yeah, he seems like the type sometimes."

            My head started reeling. Just then, Mara began to gag. I quickly pulled someone out of the crowd to help me carry her into the bathroom, where I held her hair back as she puked into the toilet basin. The smell was sour and unbearable, and as soon as she went limp from the effort, I made her rinse with cold water. By the time I had revived her enough to make sure she would be alright if I left, the second band had finished, and the headliner was setting up their equipment.

            I glared at the members of the band intently, hoping to see Joey, the guitarist who all the fuss was about. The guys could have been clones, all three dressed in tight black jeans, black button up shirts, and sporting color-coded mohawks, but none of them seemed unusually bizarre. I could see the lead singer pulling the bassist aside and mumbling something to him. The bassist looked put-off for a second, but shrugged his shoulders and began to tune his instrument.

            The conversation died down as the singer approached the mike. "Hey guys, how you doin'?" A mild response arose from the crowd. "It turns out Joey our guitarist has decided to dump out on us, so we're on our own tonight. Does that blow or what?" The audience let out a rattled boo. "Yeah, man, he left like an hour ago and didn't come back, but that's ok, 'cause we don't need him! We can rock even harder without him!" The audience's response was more enthusiastic this time, and the singer struck the first chord of his song.

            Panic set into my mind. They had to be together, there was no other choice. What was Joey doing with Kim? As little as I knew about him, I knew it couldn't be good, and I rushed out of the building into the night air. It had begun to drizzle, and the clouds covered the sky and made everything gray. I began walking up the street towards where I had parked my car. If Kim was in trouble, I had to contact someone who could help.

            Out of nowhere, I heard a female voice crying in desperation. About half a block away, surrounded by bushes, was an empty parking lot, and I could hear the first voice plus a second one arguing. As I discreetly drew closer, I became assured of the fact that one of them was Kim's, and the other one had to Joey. I crouched between two bushes, where neither of them could see me. Kim had her back to me and was covering half of Joey's face.

            "You're a bastard. I can't fucking believe you."

            "Hey look, Kim, it's really nothing personal, you know? I just can't be connected to life back at home, you know how it is, Kim, all those rumors about me everywhere."

            "But they were true, weren't they? Every one of them was true. You did all those drugs the night that Eddie died, it had to be you, didn't it? You fuckin' killed Eddie, Joey!"

            "Hey now, don't get ahead of yourself, no one knows anything for sure. I sure as hell don't. But like I said, I just can't be connected with anything back home, Kim, that's why I'm doing this."

            "I waited for you all those years, dipshit. You told me it would all blow over and we could be together and no one would give a shit. That past belongs to both of us, but we can put it behind us now!"

            "You don't understand, Kim, that would never work."

            "Oh, but it would work with any other slut who sidles up to you after a show! Fuck you Joey, you don't deserve to live, you're just a fuckin' scumbag." Kim reached into her pocket and pulled something black and slender out. "As fuckin' cliche as it may sound, if I can't have you, no one can."

            "Wait, Kim, slow down, calm down. Let's relax here, don't do anything harsh." Joey started backing away, but before he could get anywhere, Kim pounced on him with her switchblade and stabbed him in the chest. Joey staggered backwards and fell on the concrete, clawing madly at Kim's face, but she kept on jabbing him until he lay limp. I screamed and ran out of the bushes towards Kim and grabbed the knife out of her hands. She took one look at me, surprise and fear gathering in her eyes, and began to run. I stood in shock with the knife in my hand until the police came.