Then we scored that girl Heidi’s party.
You know, for the life of me, I can’t remember her last name. I know she was the middle of five hot sisters. Everyone in school knew about Heidi and her hot sisters.
And it’s weird, man. That I still don’t know. [laughs] I should grab a yearbook, except I don’t have any yearbooks. Burned all of mine.
Figure you know why.
You’d think Heidi whoever-she-was would come forward and say it was her. It was her party where it came together.
Though she and her sisters probably got that house cleaned up and her parents never knew.
Her dad was a cop, a cop with five hot daughters. [chuckles] Got my girls now and they’re beautiful so I know what kind of hell that guy lived.
But everyone knew about Heidi and her hot sisters and everyone wanted in Heidi or her hot sisters’ pants and everyone was scared as shit to try anything with Heidi or any of her sisters because her dad would fuck you up.
So, maybe even now, years later, that guy was such a hardass, they do not want their dad to know Heidi threw a rager while they were out of town.
What I do know is that I’d turned seventeen and the band was closing in on being nearly a year old and I thought that meant something.
Bands don’t last long. You seen The Commitments? [laughs] That’s every band’s story right there, man. One way or another.
One lives.
And a hundred die and the deaths are always ugly.
I also know that the band’s shit was coming together, we’d been at it so long, we’d gone from being bad to being alright.
And I remember that, right before that gig, Ricky had painted this kickass logo on his bass drum that dulled the sound of that motherfucker, but we didn’t care.
We were the Zeniths and that logo with the back of that long-haired dude with his ripped arms opened wide and the stars all around, like he’s got the heavens under his command.
Man, that logo was the shit.
Someone got hold of that drum kit, you know. I lost track of it, but someone got hold of it and knew what it was. Sold it. Made twenty-five thousand at some auction.
Can you believe that shit?
[Shakes head]
Crazy.
[Clears throat]
I also remember that Heidi’s oldest sister came home from a date in the middle of that party and she lost her goddamned mind.
I remember playing and watching those two fight. Heidi was drunk off her ass, it was kinda funny, especially with her sister screeching in her face.
And while this was happening, her date was leaning against an archway, arms crossed on his chest, boots at the ankle, watching us play.
I caught a load of him, and he gave me a shiver, man.
I saw why she’d want some of that…but, fuck.
He gave me a shiver, that guy was so intimidating.
It was Preacher.
Preacher McCade.
Heidi’s sister closed shit down. She was a ballbuster, that one was.
But, [laughs] oldest of five hot sisters, dad a cop, she’d have to be a ballbuster.
She could let loose, and I had occasion to be around Preach when he got done with her, so I know she did and she’d have to, to keep her hooks in Preach.
But she wouldn’t let any of her sisters let loose.
It was when me and the guys were loading up our gear. Nicky, Ricky and Tim had gone in to grab more shit, I was stowing my amp. I was in the back of Tim’s dad’s pickup that we used to haul our shit to our gigs.
He’d have to steal it, Tim did. But his dad would be passed-out drunk, so that wasn’t hard.
I heard a thump on the side of the bed and looked down to see a fist had landed there.
I looked and there was Preacher, standing by the side of the truck, looking up at me.
I did not want to be alone with this dude. That was my first thought.
It didn’t get better when he started talking. And I remember every word he said like it wasn’t over thirty fuckin’ years ago.
Like it happened an hour ago.
“Your drummer sucks,” he said.
I didn’t say dick, part because he was flipping my shit, part because I knew he was right.
“Your rhythm guitarist works,” he kept going. “Barely,” he said.
I just stood in the bed of that truck, staring down at this guy, saying nothing.
He didn’t quit with our first rock review.
“Your lead’s alright.”
Yup.
You guessed it.
I still didn’t say dick.
“You’re a rock star, brother.”
That was what he said.
He looked right in my eyes and said, “You’re a rock star, brother.”
My parents fought. They did it loud. But they loved me, you know? Both of them did.
Dad was kind of a wuss, but he was a decent guy. Mom was pushy, but she could be sweet a lot. It wasn’t all roses at my house, but, you know, I had love.
Me and my sisters were tight.
And we had love.
I had no idea why they stayed together since it seemed most the time, they hated each other’s guts, but that didn’t leak to me. Mom could be hard on me. Mom could make Dad lay down the hammer on me. But I knew others had it rougher.
Tim’s shit at home was whacked. He’d do anything to escape it.
And when I learned Preach’s story…
[Trails off]
But yeah, man. Yeah.
[Quietly] Yeah.
When Preacher said that to me, I grew two stories tall. I was goddamn Superman. I could conquer the world.
“Got a pen?” he said after that.
Hell no, I didn’t have a pen.
But you better fuckin’ believe I found one.
And with Tim and Ricky staring at us, Ricky not looking happy, Tim already fucked right the hell up in hero worship like me, Nicky walking up to us carrying Ricky’s snare and stand, doing that with his mouth hanging open, Preacher wrote his number on my palm.
When he was done, he said, “You wanna do somethin’ with that shit, call me.”
Then he walked away.
I’ll tell you what, I got home, and I wrote that number down on a piece of paper so fast, scared that shit would smear, my hand had to be a blur.
Bet if I still had that piece of paper, it’d go for a million.
No joke.
I’d never sell it though.
Frame it, yeah.
Sell it?
Not for a million dollars.
Okay, so me and Tim were seventeen, Nicky and Ricky already eighteen, Preach was twenty. I mean, [laughs] he’s like, adult to a seventeen-year-old, you know?
But he strolled into my garage in that way he moved for his first jam with us and Jesus.
Shit.
Just watching him move?
I could practically see the groupies straining toward us, screaming our names.
But then he played.
And sang.
Shit.
We had a band meeting after he left, and Ricky did not like Preacher at all. Wanted nothin’ to do with him.
“What’s an old guy like that want with us? It’s creepy, dudes,” he said.
Preacher was two years older than Ricky.
I gotta say, hindsight.
[Long pause]
“He’s totally gonna edge you out, Timmy,” Rick told Tim.
If I remember, Tim shrugged.
Everyone talks about it. How Tim was the light to Preach’s dark.