him, empty, endless. He didn’t know if he could spend thirty-one more days in the Kramaro, listening to Kram and Delph complain about Jude, or in the van, listening to Jude complain about Kram and Delph, or worst of all, listening to Eliza’s silence. He certainly couldn’t tell them that he’d met Teddy’s father (he’d told them he was going to the local Krishna temple). He couldn’t tell them that Teddy’s father had warned him to keep an eye on Eliza at all times, or that Johnny had already been doing just that.
Through the door of their Philadelphia motel room, while they thought he was sleeping, Johnny had listened to Eliza accuse Jude of accusing her of being on drugs. It had not exactly been a revelation, but Johnny had to fight the urge to jump out of bed. He’d let his guard down. He’d been distracted by Rooster. The next morning, he found his duffel bag open on the floor, and since then, when going through her suitcase and her makeup bag and her backpack, he made sure to zip them back up. He never found any drugs, but this morning he did find a drawing, folded in quarters and tucked inside her pregnancy book. It was a nude drawing of Eliza, and in the corner was Harriet’s signature, and it was so beautiful—the drawing, the girl—that he nearly confessed everything. It seemed such a waste, this pregnant body no one would ever see. He hated himself for squandering her, for using her as he was.
Now, on a bench under a palm tree, Eliza was watching the ball pit through her white-framed sunglasses.
Rooster said, “We’ll say you guys have a show to play back here. Actually, you do.”
“We do?”
“At the Pyramid. When I hang up the phone, I’m gonna set it up.”
“What if they don’t have space?”
“Johnny, Jesus, they always have space. If they don’t, someone else will. We’ll play at fuckin’ Tompkins. Do you know how crazy it is here this summer? The Missin’ Foundation don’t book fuckin’ shows. They’re just showin’ up on the street. There’s a show every night, and our fuckin’ singer is in fuckin’ Paraguay, and I’m here slam dancin’ with myself, waitin’ to croak. Where else you want to be but New York?”
Johnny pictured Rooster up there without him, throwing himself into the pit, looking for someone to spill his blood. “You’re not starting shit with anyone, are you? You know you can’t be getting into fights.”
“Who’s gonna stop me?” Rooster asked. “You?”
Jude waded out of the ball pit and sat down on the bench next to Eliza. Eliza raised a hand to shield her eyes against the sun. Johnny couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“I can’t do both, Roo. I can’t take care of you and the baby, too.”
Now Delph and Kram were drowning Ben in the ball pit. “Quit it, fag!” Their shoes lay in a pile at the edge of the chain-link fence, like the shoes in the hallway of the Krishna temple. Johnny missed the Krishna temple. He missed the smell of the subway, and Blind Jack, and his cats, whom Prudence had promised to take care of. He didn’t want to be on the run anymore. He wasn’t like his mother. He wanted things to be the way they used to be, before his mother disappeared and Teddy died and Eliza got pregnant, before Rooster got sick. He wanted to need no one.
But he’d done what he’d come to do. He’d met Teddy’s dad. He’d cased him out. Call if you need anything else, Ravi had said at the bank as he’d handed over the envelope of cash.
“Just come until the baby,” Rooster said gently. “When will you be able to come, after the baby?”
Again, the operator demanded twenty-five cents.
“Baby, when will you be able to see me, after the baby?”
We need to go back to New York,” Johnny told them.
“Why?” Jude asked. “What’s wrong?”
“We have a show at the Pyramid.”
“What about Cleveland?”
“Cleveland canceled. And you”—he pointed to Eliza—“haven’t seen a doctor in three months. And we need to find a place to live.”
“They just canceled?” Delph said.
“So the tour’s just over,” Kram said.
Eliza said, “I thought we don’t need a doctor.”
“You want me to deliver this kid in the van?” he said, forcing a smile, and even a little laugh.
“What about Di?” Jude asked. “What if we run into her? What if the doctor has to like, report to her?”
“I got it under control, Jude. I talked