[Marvin's] World of Deadheads Read online

  The guy let go, watched the driver help Jenna onto the bus, and as he boarded the bus, pointed a finger and shot a warning look at Blake.

  Blake backed up to the edge of the sidewalk and sighed in relief. Three adults against the word of a kid could’ve gotten him into a whole heap of trouble. The bus pulled away from the curb and he walked in the direction of school, the board tucked securely under his arm.

  The crowd that had gathered began to disburse. The living shivered with tingling in their bodies and goose-bumps on their limbs when they passed through deadheads, attributing the weird sensations to the fact they’d just witnessed a woman almost get killed by a bus. When the deadheads scattered, they gave a wide berth and cast wary glances at Mike, Tommy, and Marvin.

  After a long silence, Mike yawned and tapped his friend’s arms. “Come on. Let’s go back to the deli. I need some more coffee.”

  The usual morning-rush crowd of the living at Epstein’s began to thin as they walked through the door. “Over there,” Tommy told them, “next to the window. I’ll get the coffee. Anybody want anything else while I’m back there?”

  Mike gave a questioning look to Marvin and then answered for both. “Just one coffee, Tommy.”

  After Mike and Marvin moved out of earshot, a middle-aged guy — one of the Sunday morning regulars — tugged on Tommy’s sleeve. “Your friend there doesn’t look so good. Is he all right?”

  Tommy glanced toward his buddies. “Which one?”

  “The tall one with the dark hair.”

  “Marvin? Yeah, he’s just feeling a little down right now. Why?”

  “Looks more serious than that to me.”

  Tommy studied Marvin. “What’s that mean?”

  “He looks… different. Dark around the edges, if that makes sense.”

  “I don’t see anything. But I’ll check it out. Thanks.”

  “Tell him to be careful.” The guy peered at Tommy for a moment and added, “You all better be more careful.”

  “Of what? What could he have? He’s dead.” Tommy replied to the guy’s back as he watched the man walk out of the store. He snatched three cups from the rack and drained the pot, considered starting another for Tina-I’ll-Be-Your-Server-Today and then decided it would be more entertaining to witness her confusion when she went to serve her customers. He carried the cups to the table and handed them over, rather than slide them; there were too many live folks still nursing their meals. “Well, that was strange. Here Marvin, I got you one anyway. You looked like you needed it.”

  Marv accepted the coffee. “Thanks, it’d be better if you could’ve added a shot of something!”

  “What was strange?” Mike slid over to make room for Tommy on the bench.

  “One of the regulars asked me if Marvin here was feeling all right. Told me he looked ‘dark,’ whatever the hell that means.” Tommy watched Marv for a few minutes. “He doesn’t look any different to me. Does he look different to you, Mike?”

  “Nope. Looks the same to me as he does every other day of the year.”

  “Jesus H! stop staring at me, will ya,” Marv said without turning to look at them.

  “Are you feeling ‘dark’ Marvin?”

  “Listen up, ya schmuck, I feel dark all right. If you two don’t stop staring at me I’m gonna come through the table and smack ya both upside the head. How’s that?”

  “I think someone needs a hug.” Tommy started to get off the bench.

  “Sit back down, hippie. It ain’t gonna work today, not this time.”

  Mike kicked Marv under the table. “Come on Brody, lighten up. He’s only trying to help.”

  “I know! But give it a rest, would ya? Just let me suck down my coffee.”

  “Ah, you always were cranky in the morning. Whose idea was this anyway, to venture out so early?”

  Marvin flipped him the bird. “If I remember correctly, Mike, it was yours.”

  “Yeah, well, remind me next time we do not do well at the butt-crack of dawn.”

  Tommy laughed. “Butt-crack of dawn. That’s funny.” He thought for a minute. “Maybe we should try at night. We haven’t tried at night.”

  “What?” Mike couldn’t believe his ears. “What would nighttime have to do with anything?”

  Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know. But haven’t you ever noticed the ghosts and goblins always seem do to better at night? They seem stronger.”

  Marvin chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Dude, think about it. Like in Night of the Living Dead and… um, Halloween they’re always doing this kind of stuff at night. Maybe we need to try something at night.”

  Marv rolled his eyes. “Oh for cryin’ out loud. Have you been taking him to the movies again, Mike?”

  Mike laughed and held up his hands. “No! I swear it, officer, I’m innocent.”

  “Shit! Where did this come from?” Tina snatched his cup off the table, ran a damp rag across the spot. She looked out the window for the culprit who had plopped the dirty cup onto a clean table on the way out. “Why can’t people leave things where they belong! They just love making work for others.”

  Mike watched in surprise. “Damn! She’s fast.”

  Marvin laughed. “See what you get for violating my trust? Now, before you go get another cup, repeat after me: I will not take Tommy to any more movies.”

  Tommy sat up in a sudden revelation. “Oh, hey, dudes! How about concerts. Are concerts okay?”

  “I suppose so, hippie. What do you have in mind? The Grateful Dead?”

  “Hah, hah, Marvin. Very funny. No. What’s today?”

  Mike consulted his watch. “Friday.”

  “I know it’s Friday! What date is it?”

  “Oh, uh… June thirtieth.”

  “Very cool! Dudes, pack your bags. That’s a figurative pack, of course. We’re going to New York.”

  “For what?”

  “Who cares, Brody? If it’s one of Tommy’s ideas, it’s bound to be fun.”

  “You’ll see when we get there, Marvin. Come on, drink up! This is a once a year event and I haven’t gone in, oh, I don’t know, probably ten years. This is primo entertainment, classic.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Just cool your jets.”

  Tommy wasn’t dissuaded and his excitement built. “I’m telling you, dude, I’ll bet you’ve never seen anything like this. It’s the grooviest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!” Marvin stared at him. “Okay, let me rephrase that, it’s the grooviest thing I’ve seen since I’ve been dead, but still.”

  Marvin almost said he was going to stick to his guns on this one, but remembered Tommy didn’t even like the word ‘gun’ and said, “No. You go. I’m staying put.” Marvin stuck to his guns.

  “Dude. I promise you, this is Legendary—with a capital L, man.”

  “Oh, come on Brody.” Mike prodded. “Hey, you didn’t want to go on the cruise and you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

  “Come on, Marvin. Please? Besides, I think we need to take a break and regroup here, figure out a new plan of attack, don’t you?”

  “Oh, Jesus H. Christ! All right. Stop whining. I’ll go, I’ll go.”

  Tommy beamed his approval, drained his cup, and set it on the table just as Tina made another pass through the restaurant. She let out a loud sigh, “Dammit!” yanked the cup off the table and swiped the wet ring with her cloth.

  Marvin waited for her to turn away and placed his cup on the table. The three of them walked toward the front door and paused with their backs to the room when Tommy said, “Stop a second. Wait for it… Wait for it…”

  “What the…” was all Tina mumbled before she let out a frustrated scream.

  They melted through the doors to a chorus of laughter and applause.

  -45-

  “What the hell happened to you? I thought you were going to be in here early this morning?” JoAnne asked when Jenna trudged by her office.

  Jenna let out a groan. “Ask me again after I get s
ome coffee.” She dropped her purse into its usual spot in her desk drawer, picked up her cup and went to the kitchen. “Jesus, what a morning.”

  JoAnne jumped out of her seat to follow when Jenna passed her office in the opposite direction, “Wait a minute. Stop. You have dirt all over your ass end.”

  Jenna waited for the slaps and swipes at her backside to stop and continued down the hallway. “Thanks.”

  “And?” JoAnne prompted.

  “Well, let’s see…where should I start?” Jenna filled her cup and lifted the pot in JoAnne’s direction.

  “No, thanks. I have a cup on my desk.”

  “As Marvin used to say, it’s been a fucking day from hell. And it’s not even 8:00 a.m.”

  “I thought for sure you’d beat me in this morning. Bad hair day?”

  Jenna leaned against the counter. “Bad hair day…yeah. I wish.”

  “Well, from the looks of it, I’d say it started out that way.”

  Jenna put her cup down and leaned over to look at her reflection in the glass of the microwave door. “Shit.” She tried to smooth her hair back into some semblance of order and pulled strands over the small spot where the doctor had shaved the hair away two weeks ago to staple her wound. “I would’ve been here by 6:30, but I broke the heel on one of my shoes. I fell,” she pointed JoAnne’s gaze to her bruised knees, “shredded the hell out of my hose and had to go back home.”

  “You went home, but your hair is still a mess and your ass is full of dirt?”

  “Oh, please. That was just the first spill.”

  Jo looked at Jenna with concern. “You fell twice? Jen, maybe you should go see the doctor.”

  “For what?”

  “What d’you mean for what? If you can’t stand or walk a straight line, I’d say you have a bit of a problem. It could be from the hit in the head. Are you still getting headaches?”

  Jenna was already shaking her head. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, you look fine.”

  “JoAnne! I said I’m fine. I tripped over some brat’s skateboard. Okay?”

  Her boss looked at her for a minute and then broke out laughing. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “I don’t know — it came out of nowhere and I tripped over it.” When JoAnne laughed again, Jenna grabbed her cup and strode past her. “Fuck you. You almost get hit by a bus, we’ll see how funny it is then.”

  Jo ran to catch up. “Wait a minute! You got hit by a bus? This morning?”

  “I said almost. The guy stopped in time.”

  “Sorry, Jen. Boy, you’ve turned into a real klutz here lately.”

  She waved the comment off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

  JoAnne stopped at the door to her office. “Really, Jen, when you get done with the brief, I think you should call the doctor. Just to be sure.”

  “I do not need a doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me that a good stiff shot of Bailey’s in my coffee wouldn’t cure.” Jenna rounded the corner into her office. “I’m fine, JoAnne, I promise. I’ll have this to you in an hour.”

  “Well, okay, then. But don’t come bitching to me if you fall and break something.”

  -46-

  The plane was nearly full but they managed to find three unoccupied seats at the back and settled in for the ninety-minute flight. The jet lifted off the runway and turned its nose to the northeast. Halfway to JFK International, Tommy went into the galley and dipped his hand into the drawers for drinks.

  When he settled back into his seat, Mike asked, “Are you going to tell us what we’re going to see?”

  “Dude, just trust me, okay? I promise you’ll love it.”

  “And what if we don’t?”

  “Well, Marvin… You get five free noogies. How’s that?”

  Marv laughed. “How about five slaps upside the back of the head along with ‘schmuck, I told you so’?”

  “Dude, whatever. It’s all cool. I’m not worried. Plus, this will be a great distraction for a couple of days while we figure out a new plan. So, kick back and chill out, Marv. Enjoy the ride, man”

  Later that night, after some sightseeing, they dropped by Sardi’s for a quick snack and a drink. Someone in the crowd of deadheads in a booth near them leaned over. “Are you boys headed for the concert tonight?”

  Marvin rolled his eyes as he answered. “I guess we are. All I can say is, this better be good after coming all the way from Dayton.”

  The man smiled. “Have you ever seen Judy before?”

  “Judy who?”

  The laughter caught Tommy’s attention and he slid a finger across his own throat in an effort to stop the man from giving away the surprise.

  “Judy who? Garland. Is there another Judy?”

  Marvin turned to Tommy and fixed him with a stare. “You schmuck! You brought me all this way to see some old dead woman my grandmother used to listen to?”

  “Have you ever heard any of her recordings, Brody? She’s pretty good,” Mike commented.

  The man at the other booth leaned over to get a better look at Mike. “Pretty good? Son, Madonna is pretty good. Judy is phenomenal. Her records don’t do her justice. You listen to her sing live and —” Loud laughter from the crowd interrupted him and echoed through the room. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… You all can bite me! I’m telling you, you will not be disappointed. That is if you can find room to squeeze in.”

  At one-thirty in the morning, every deadhead in the restaurant headed out through the doors and walls of the building and poured onto 47th Street, walked against traffic on 7th Avenue, bumping through people and cars. The entry to the Palace was swarming and Mike and Marvin were amazed at how people were dressed. Long gowns, hair perfect, jewels; some of the women even wore evening gloves. Most men were dressed in tuxedo’s; the rest in suits and ties.

  “I feel a little under-dressed. Like maybe we should’ve stopped to see Davy for new duds before we left town,” Marvin stated as he scanned the crowd.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Brody. I think everyone’s more interested in seeing Judy than worrying about what you’re wearing.”

  “Besides, dude, there won’t be any red carpet coverage. Joan Rivers is still alive!” Tommy laughed as he pushed his way into the building.

  In the dimly lit lobby a steady stream poured through the closed doors to the theater. Mike laughed at the throng of deadheads. “I’ve heard theaters have ghosts, but this is beyond imagination!”

  Inside, the house lights glowed at half-power and the grand drape was closed, lit by sporadic beams of light. The entire place hummed, deadheads murmured with excitement. They discovered every seat on the main floor filled and a crowd had already begun to gather at the foot of the stage. Tommy craned his neck to check out the loge and box seats. “Looks like it’s already standing room.”

  Marvin turned to make his way back up the aisle. “Oh, Jesus H. This is ridiculous. I’m not standing for however long this is gonna take.”

  “Dude! Wait! Marvin!”

  “I told you I didn’t want to do this in the first place. This is nuts. If you want to stay, stay. I’ll meet you back over at Sardi’s.”

  “No! Brody, up there,” Mike pointed to the far house-left loge. “There’s still a few rows empty. Come on. Go. Go! Go!”

  “From nosebleed country… I gotta sit in nosebleed to listen to some washed up old broad… I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “I’d be more careful in here if I were you, dude. You could piss off a lot of people saying things like that.” Tommy pushed Marvin ahead and leaned down to a woman in an aisle seat, who had snarled at Marvin’s comment. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just a little overwhelmed right now.”

  They settled into seats and looked down at the crowded theater. Not only were the seats full, there wasn’t an empty space left on the main floor. Deadheads packed every square inch, jostling each other for position. The house lights dimmed and the strains of a full big-band orchestra bled through the cu
rtain. Thunderous applause filled the theater and the music built louder to overcome the noise. Thirty seconds later, every instrument went silent except a set of drums. When the solo started, the curtains parted and a strong beam of light hit the drummer. He stood and bowed as his hands flew and the crowd roared approval.

  “Oh, my God! Is that…” Marvin leaned over and squinted in an attempt to focus more clearly, or as if the figure might appear larger as a result. A big smile spread across his face. “Holy shit! That’s Gene Kruppa. Mike! It’s Gene fucking Kruppa!”

  “I know!” Mike yelled back to him. “It’s awesome, isn’t it?”

  Tommy, who sat between them beamed. “Dude, I told you it would be legendary!”

  “Did you know about this?” Marvin hollered over the din.

  “No, Marvin. But —”

  Marvin grabbed Tommy in a big bear hug. “You son-of-a-bitch. I take back every schmuck!”

  The orchestra joined in and finished the overture. The audience applauded and then went silent for a split second as a small figure tentatively stepped from the right wing of the stage and into a spot light. Everyone leapt to their feet and the sound of applause, hollers, and whistles became deafening.

  Judy made her way to the center, brought the microphone to her face, and took a breath. The audience still stood and roared for her. She spread her arms wide, hands held high for a moment; bowed and stood waiting. Five minutes went by though she brought the mic up again and again. “Thank you. Calm down, now. Sit, sit. Oh, my goodness. You’re too good to me. I haven’t even sung anything yet.” The crowd laughed and applauded louder.

  The first strains of “Lullaby of Broadway” struggled to be heard over the sound of the clapping, but when she sang the first note everyone settled down. In the middle of the verse, Judy interjected. “Wow. It suddenly got dead quiet in here.” She shielded her eyes from the glare of the spotlight and peered into the audience. “Are you all still there?”

  The crowd laughed and the sound of clapping rose and fell as she continued with the song.