Fugazi
Ilium, New York. Late August 1995.
The bus moved with the stop and pull motion of a winning tug of war played over miles. Kid swayed with Jerk. Jerk swayed with Late. They all swayed with the bus.
Jerk felt a hand slipping into his as they rode. He stiffened, then relaxed. He looked over at Kid, and squeezed their hand. “Thanks for coming with me and Late.”
“Books! Music! It’s a chance to see you in your native environment!”
“That’s The News.” Kid could see the corner of Jerk’s mouth trying to curl slightly.
They held hands the rest of the way.
Jerk had gone over to the book side of the store. Kid was flipping through a box of new vinyl releases after Late moved on to the box to the right.
“So this Clark guy…” Kid spoke first.
“Wait, why are we talking about Jerk’s–the bookie.” Late shot a sideways glance to Kid, alarmed, then looked at where Jerk had gone. “Did he come in?”
“Applied.” Kid said. “I watched them talk. He leaned in and Jerk leaned back. Way back.” Kid pulled up a record, realized it wasn’t what they thought, and slid it back down. “He’s going to be a floater.”
Late swore under his breath. “Christ, Jerk. Don’t be a martyr.” He pushed back, moved right to the next box of records and began flipping through them. “How did Tiny react?”
“Stared at Jerk for 10 seconds and then said ‘You’re the hiring manager.’”
“Look, Kid. I’m not specul– It would be rude to figure out my best friend’s emotions before he did, OK?” Late moved right another box, Kid followed.
“I just want to know wha–”
“Kid! Late! How wonderful to see you!” Came a bright and cheerful voice behind them. They turned.
Ms. Dunworth stood there, clutching a copy of Fugazi’s Repeater to her pea-green cardigan.
“That’s a really great album, Ms Dunworth. Getting a gift?” Late asked.
She clutched the album a little tighter. “Oh no! This is mine. I love the energy!” Her eyes were alight.
“Right on.” Late nodded his head.
“Ms. Dunworth, I thought that was your convertible on the street.” Jerk had snuck up on Kid and Late. He pointed at her album. “I have that on cassette, it’s great.”
“Kid said Clark’s a floater, Jerk.” They were flipping through the R section of Used Tapes.
Jerk shot a glare at an oblivious Kid at the front of the store who was talking to Ms. Dunworth, and then to Late. “He knows the job and he has flexible availability.”
“He hurt my best friend. I don’t know how, but I know he did.” Late pulled out a Ramones tape he’d seen a million times and pretended to care. Two dollars. “You were morose for months after he was busted, and this is you I’m talking about here.” He put the tape back.
Jerk ignored him.
“Jerk, I know–”
“So did he, Late.” Jerk moved to another section.
On the way back, Kid slipped their hand into Jerk’s again. He didn’t stiffen, he just swayed with them and the bus.