Invisible party
He poured another vodka and called the only person he believed ever understood him. She didn’t answer. He left a message saying the “outcome” of summit Salome was the inverse of meeting Teumer; this now topped his disaster list. His cell phone rang back almost immediately. He answered quickly with an enthusiastic, “Hey!”
“Moses?” He heard the unexpected voice of Sidonna Cherry. “Got no answer on your home phone so thought I might try this. Got a minute?”
“Yep, still at work.” He tried to hide his disappointment. “What’s up?”
“I have an automatic search on Teumer, and, well … Teumer died a week or so ago.”
Moses’s immediate reaction was no reaction. “Moses, I’m sorry. I can e-mail you a translation of the Brazilian obituary.”
“No reason to be sorry. And the obit, I’m sure it’s one big lie. Maybe later.” He didn’t feel like explaining the evening’s events. “Thanks much. I have to go.”
He took another drink. Finally, his eyes began to close and he nodded off on his office couch. He awoke sometime after midnight. His father was dead and he didn’t care one bit. He felt no relief, hate, or sorrow. Was that awful? No. Since meeting him, not for one second had he regretted their lack of relationship. At least in that one space of his life, Moses had found peace.
He sat at his desk and checked his e-mail and phone messages. Nothing from Jay. He logged on to his Facebook page. No message there either. He pulled up Jay’s page and saw she’d posted that she’d be attending an opening at L.A. Louver. She should have been home by now. He checked her information: Her status had been updated from “single” to “in a relationship.”
61 MEMOIRS OF A USELESS GOOD-FOR-NUTHIN’
Under the Bridge, 2006 — 2009
Lost in la-la land without the Insatiables, and them New York guys blowin’ me off, I start boozing and drugging. I call Camille, who is in Montreal shooting a TV thing. She sounds truly happy for me, and not a little pleased that I took her advice and left the band. And she’s sure I’ll eventually find my way. I do find my way to celebrate with her in Montreal. It’s a fun time. But when she’s done, she flies off to Paris and I head back to L.A.
I spend my time playing video games and getting blitzed. One night I puked and then passed out in the lobby of the building. After the janitor wakes me, I sit and talk to him for an hour. I got nowhere else to go.
I get a call from Andrew saying the Sheiks need me to sign some papers. After a long night of drinking, I show up at Kasbah and proceed to conk out on the floor of Buddy’s office. I feel drops on my head. I open my eyes and Randy Sheik is holding his damn wiener in his hand. He and Lux are cracking up. I scramble up and am about to turn out Randy’s fucking lights when Lux starts squirting me with a water gun. I wanna be pissed but I gotta laugh, too.
Alchy shows up. I ain’t seen him much. Immediately, he asks to talk to me alone. The paper signing was only an excuse to get me there. He starts yammering that he can’t lose me like he lost Absurda. He has an idea that I should record an album of cover songs. He’ll even produce it when they get back from touring if I want. The Germans will give me an advance to do the album. I say thanks, but no thanks.
Things didn’t go better for me. I take a walk one night over to Skid Row, which ain’t far from my place. I ask a couple of them guys if they wanna party. I take out my bottle of scotch. I got so drunk … we must’ve gotten into some fuckin’ fight. I woke up in a back alley all bruised and banged up, five hundred bucks and my wallet gone. I say to myself, Do I really wanna end up a good-for-nuthin’ gutter rat dead in some backstreet?
I get my shit together, and Andrew helps me put a bunch of guys together to record Pedestrian Tastes, which turns into my band Ferricide. Andrew and Sue get us a contract with the Germans. When the Insatiables come back after their six-month tour, I ask Lux to play on a few songs and he does. I don’t ask Alchemy ’cause he’s put on his Good Samaritan costume, which interests me about as much as going ice fishing in the raw.
Then I start what becomes almost three years of touring or recording with Ferricide. When the Insatiables tour, they sell out arenas; I play for two thousand people. It don’t bother me as much as you’d think ’cause I like running my own band. The guys, who is mostly young, look at playing with me as a big deal, not like I owe them something. I picked the producer and road manager. We don’t make much money but enough so I ain’t losing any. It was good times, and positive for my head, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to missing playing with Lux and Alchy.
I still ain’t found no one who I want to be an article with. In off time, I play the good dad and hang with Ricky Jr. But at the end of three years, I’m damn tired of the road. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do next, I just know sittin’ around for too long is no good for me.
Alchemy is getting consumed with the Nightingale Foundation, and the name don’t please me at all. I got a call from Buddy Sheik asking me to meet with Mose and him. Maybe I can contribute to the foundation.
Alchemy’s damn sneaky about keeping parts of his life separate when he wants to, but I’d met Mose a few times over the years. We never hung out or nuthin’. He was kinda cool in a twerpy Jerry Seinfeld way, if that makes sense. He don’t Fancy Dan his smarts, but he sure knows a lot. He and Alchemy don’t look much alike except around the mouth. Girly lips. Mose got light eyes and is balding, and must never step in the sun ’cause he’s superpale. Alchy calls Mose his “half brother.” When a writer asked Alchemy, “Which half?” he answered, “Whichever half I choose.” Him and Mose roll their eyes and nod their head just a tic if you say something they think is idiotic and they don’t want to actually call you on it. It was freaky since they wasn’t raised together.
During the meeting, I see how tight Alchy and Mose has become. Alchy gets pissed when I tell him I ain’t in the donating mood. Mose is cool and says, “I get it. Drop by the new offices anytime and see what we’re doing. Or if you have some special interest, we’re open to all ideas, especially with working-class kids.” He made me feel kinda guilty. Buddy shows me the tax advantages and eventually I donate plenty over the years.
As I’m getting ready to leave that day, Alchemy says that me and him should talk soon. I says, “Sure, but it’s on you to call me.” I ain’t holding my breath.
62 THE MOSES CHRONICLES (2009–2010)
I Don’t Vant to Be Alone
Moses accepted the outcome of Salome’s Nightingale office performance with nary any self-castigation, only a bemused cringe. His adjusted Livability Quotient consisted of consciously sublimating his anxieties and finding satisfaction in managing the foundation, which remained his only social outlet. He jokingly called his new situation “existential everydayness.” Overwhelmed with Insatiables business, Alchemy involved himself when called upon to show up for fundraisers, drop a note to a donor, or sign off on budgetary priorities. Moses sent a nightly e-mail apprising him of the day’s news. Rare as Alchemy’s presence in the office was, he generated a palpable excitement when he breezed in, assembled the staff, and invited them to the tiny Café Largo. He and Lux, billing themselves as the ProTeans, were doing a private showcase with a guest guitarist.
On the night of the show, the Nightingale contingent and select members of the media milled about, waiting for Largo to open its doors when, ten feet from the entrance, a shriek and a command—“Owww! Let me go! You don’t own me!”—silenced the anticipatory buzz. A rattily dressed, muscle-bound man was twisting the blue, pink, and black hair on the girl’s head. Moses summoned his stern professor’s voice. “Stop that! What’s going on here?” The reply: “None of your damn business” and a punch to his chest. Moses tumbled to the sidewalk. Alchemy, followed by Sue and two bodyguards, streaked out of the club. The man, cursing with pathetic bravado, slinked down the street. The fracas quieted. Alchemy yelled, “Thanks, Mose!” and hustled the girl into the club. Sue helped Moses get up. “You just rescued their new guitarist.”