You just happened to know the name of the band?”
“Ha! You even sound like your dad. Smart-ass.”
“How did you know he was gone?”
“Gloria told me. I called her. She told me all of you were here. In Detroit. Singing.”
“You called her,” I repeated. “Just like that. Out of the blue. After more than twenty years.”
“I work nights driving freight. I heard you on the radio program. Barry Gray. Both of you . . . singing ‘The Bomb Johnson.’”
“I told her it was a mistake.”
“Yeah. You probably shouldna done that. It wasn’t smart,” he whispered. “But it was beautiful.”
“Why wasn’t it smart?” I knew my reasons for thinking so. I wanted to hear his.
“Because now . . . all the chickens are coming home to roost.”
“Where have you been?” I asked, trying to control the accusation in my tone.
“Canada. I came across the bridge.” He pointed in the general direction of the Ambassador Bridge that connected Detroit to Ontario. “I’d been watching the Fox, thinking maybe you’d show up here beforehand for rehearsal or something. I’ve got a room right across the street.” He inclined his head to the other side of Woodward. “I was having a smoke when I saw Jack—I saw you—walk by.”
“You could have just talked to me then. At the old hall. Why didn’t you?”
“I wanted to give you a chance to . . . prepare . . . and maybe prepare her.”
I was silent, considering.
“You didn’t tell her?” he asked, and I knew he meant Esther. I knew he was talking about his cryptic note on the flyer.
“I didn’t tell her.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to get her hopes up. I needed to see you for myself. Really see you.”
“You trying to protect her from me?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Good. That’s good. Your dad was like that.” He exhaled and his shoulders fell, and for a moment we just stood, not certain how to proceed. He offered me a cigarette and we stood smoking in silence.
“At least I got to see her sing. She took my breath away.”
“She takes my breath away too,” I admitted, surprising us both.
“Her mother was like that. God, that woman.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t stay away. You have that same look in your eye, Lament. But people will make it hard for you. Just like they did us. We didn’t make it.”
“Why do people care?” I asked. “That’s one thing I can’t figure out. Why in the hell do people care? Why did they care about you and Maude Alexander . . . and why do they care about us?”
“Everybody’s scared. Nobody wants to be alone. So they group up. That ain’t new. People been tribal since time began. I don’t see that changin’. We all team up. Gang up. Group up. Even your father chose his side. He recognized he couldn’t get by on his own. So he mobbed up.” He shrugged. “It’s survival.”
“It’s family.”
“Did you mob up, kid?”
“Not yet,” I whispered. But Chicago would change that.
“Not yet?” He didn’t sound like he was convinced.
“Not yet.”
“I always liked fighting alone. Course . . . I stopped fighting a long time ago.”
“What do you want, Bo Johnson?” I asked. More than anything, I needed to know that.
“I don’t want nothing. Not one thing. I just want to see her. And then I’ll be on my way.”
“Why now? You could have come back anytime.”
He shook his head. “No. I couldn’t. You’re talkin’ about things you don’t understand. It was better this way.”
“My pop said he didn’t know where you were.”
“It was better for him too . . . not knowing. No use making him choose sides. He helped me. I helped him by staying away. I helped her by staying away too. But I’d like to see her. Even if it’s just once.”
“What if that isn’t enough for her?”
“Then we’ll figure that out.”
I nodded. It sounded like something I said when I didn’t want to be pinned down.
“By the way, no one calls me Bo Johnson anymore,” he said.
“What do they call you?”
He took a blue Canadian passport from the pocket inside his coat. “Don’t even have to prove you’re a citizen to apply. Just have to say you were born there, and you get one of these. See?” He opened the booklet up to the first page. A picture of him was on the right, his description on the left. I glanced at the name and froze.
“Jack Lament?” I asked.
“That’s right. Everybody just calls me Lament.” He grinned, sheepish, and then laughed, the