STARLIGHTER

  But Joey wasn’t currently in the mood for hauling his assets 30 miles north to get shitfaced, when he could do the same here for nothing. And that was the consensus among the rest of us, too.  But Henry’s motor was still running. He was antsy to ‘make the scene’ ... wherever the indigenous scene happened to be.  It wasn’t here, that’s for damned sure! He asked all of us if we’d very much mind, seeing how none of us were interested in any heavy-duty partying, if he and Connie copped an early dixie. ‘’We’ll be back here first thing in the A.M.,” he assured us.

  It’s not, I think, that the rest of us were anti-social, averse to partying and shit ... but we were intimidated by the ‘la-de-da’ social climes inhabited by the Midget Marine and Connie.  Not only was it beyond our financial pale, but we simply didn’t fit. The thought of Blue or Sloth - or ANY of us for that matter - hobnobbing in one of Henry’s fancy-pants ‘hot spots’, mingling with his circle of ritzy, ‘on-the-go’ live wires was ... well, strange.  Not where our heads were at, as they say.  We were into granola, mud meatloaf and humpback whales ... not champagne cocktails, ‘Rolex’ watches and trendy bistros.

  “You know,’’ I injected gratuitously. “It’s probably not in your book there ... but there’s a place right here in Belknap Falls ... place called ‘DOT’S’.  Joints lousy with swingers, Pepsi generation cats. Very hush-hush and cliquish.  I mean, why travel all the way up to North Conway?  ‘DOT’S’ is where it’s at!  Ask for Earl.’’

  Joey gave me the visual equivalent of a kick in the nuts. Jonathan suppressed a giggle. Sasha shook her head and grinned at me. And Marianne spoke; ‘’Don’t listen to him. Lost in the woods too long.’’

  After the departure of Henry and Connie, Joey retreated even DEEPER within himsef for the rest of the evening. He sat on the floor next to the fireplace slowly and methodically changing the strings on his guitar. When he stared into the fire, glints of orange flashed in the lenses of his glasses. The dude was unnaturally reflective ... no palpable evidence of his usually fidgety manner. He wasn’t trying to cajole the ROCKETS into another practice or work on the charts or polish the sets and prepare for this big opportunity. None of that. He just sat placidly by the hearth, sipping ‘MATEUS’, tuning the ax and gaping at the fire.

  Well, I didn’t need to have a Fulbright Scholarship to connect the fucking dots!  Joey had put two and two tog ether and arrived at the inevitable four.  He’d figured out what happened between Sasha and me !  What else would drive him so low?

  I instantly realized - with an almost audible gasp - that he KNEW!