to fucking talk overnight, you moron? ”
“Hey, back off, Jack.”
I couldn’t back off. “You know, when Pamela’s your ex-wife, she’ll still be my sister, you fucking idiot.”
“Whoa, dude.” Dogshit put his hand on my shoulder. “Chill out.”
I swatted his hand off me. “I’m not going to chill out.”
“Oooh-kay,” Dogshit said. “I think I’ll take a little walk and let you guys—”
“Don’t fucking bother,” James said. “We’re not going to be here that long.”
“What are you going to do, level me with one punch? ”
“Is that what you want? ” James yelled. He took a step toward me. “Is that what you fucking want? ”
Dogshit got in front of him. “No. It’s definitely not what he wants.”
“Then somebody should stuff a fucking sock in it,” James said.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Dogshit said. “Dude,” he appealed to me.
“You know, James, you’re a real pisser. I lie to her fucking face. My sister. For you. Fuck knows what shit things you did to make her want to divorce you, but no matter. I lied to her anyway. I could have fucked you over a few times but I didn’t. I just lied to her like a genuine fucking asshole. For you. Not me. You.”
“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t fucking know that? ”
I was exasperated and worn down. “Well, if you knew it, why’d you tell her? I mean, couldn’t you have lied to her just one more time? You had to know she was going to be completely bullshit with me. What were you thinking? Jesus.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Is that what you want me to say? ”
“Dude,” Dogshit said to me. “Is that all you want? ”
“I don’t fucking know what I want. I swear to God, I don’t.”
Dogshit turned to James. “I think that’s all he wants.”
“Fine,” James said. “I’m sorry. I am.”
I knew what was at risk when I agreed to be party to James’s plan, but I needed to be mad at somebody. He held out his hand for me to shake, but I wouldn’t take it. “Whatever,” I said. I pointed Sweet Thunder toward Plymouth Street and started pedaling. I added my sister Pamela to the short list of women I’d forced out of my life.
“Oh, that’s right. Whatever,” James called after me. “I apologized. I’m not going to fucking beg you to accept.”
I BIKED STRAIGHT to the phone booth at Spunt’s and dialed Jocelyn’s number. No answer, no machine, nothing.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! ”
I whacked a glass panel with the receiver, but not hard enough to break anything. I tried to slam the phone-booth door, but it was designed so that no matter how much force you put into it, it always closes nice and easy. I had to go back to New York and look for Jocelyn. Ricky was watching me from inside the store. He gave me a small, concerned wave. I left the Spunt’s parking lot and pedaled away from East Falmouth. Fuck Tommy the cop. If he—or any other cop—picked me up, all the better. I’d give him my word never to return so long as he got me off Cape Cod ASAP. I took the feeder ramp onto Route 28 and knowingly became a criminal.
AS I ASCENDED the back stairs, I could hear Richie on the porch, talking to someone on the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said excitedly when he saw me. He was wearing nothing but a raunchy lime-green towel around his waist. The towel was so small that if the temperature outside had been five to ten degrees higher, his nut sack would have swung visibly—like a produce bag containing two kiwis. “Dude,” he said, “you are not going to fucking believe this.”
“What? ”
“This.” He handed me an envelope.
“What’s this, a summons? ”
“Kind of.”
I checked out the return address. “From Sub Pop? ”
“No shit, it is. Read it.” I peeked into the envelope like it could have been from the Unabomber. “Out loud,” Richie added. “I want to hear someone else say the words. And make sure you enunciate.”
“ ‘Dear Losers: This letter concerns your crummy demo tape. While it leaves much to be desired, miraculously, it isn’t as ear-piercingly horrible as the other thousand we received that day. One song in particular, “Black Smoke, No Pope,” does not completely suck. Though we can’t—for legal reasons—encourage you to continue making music, this letter is intended to come infinitely close to that