FUGUE # 13.
Spring/Summer 1996
============
ing doing! I realize I'm not fucking supposed to know, but you're stirring up shit, Buck! You're stirring up the shit! Yes! You're telling us out of one side of your mouth that we've got a band, Buck! You're telling us that we've got a band, and all the time you're on the goddamn phone, telling them what shitheads you're playing with! Yes! And you think we don't know what you're up to! When are you going to dump us, Buck? Do you think we don't know you're getting ready to dump us? Do you think Calvin don't know that? Do you think Gary don't know?" "Just shut the fuck up," said Buck. He sounded fairly calm. "-I should shut the fuck up! I should shut the fuck up! I'm not supposed to know what's going on-" Sid's eyes lit on me, like two vacant windows. I stared back, stunned. It was as though intelligence had been wiped off his face, and only craftiness remained. For just a beat, as he recognized me, his diatribe faltered. Then he was off on a new and feverish spin. "Ruby! You've been singing the wrong goddamn tune! Yes! And sticking your big red ass up between me and the light! But you're finding out it ain't so easy. You think you can fuck, don't you, Ruby? Yes! You think so! You think you can fuck till the jism runs out of you! You think you can fuck with me! But you're about to find out you've been singing the wrong goddamn tune!" The sick certainty ofhis repeated Yes! was battering me. I didn't know what I was hearing, although I was aware of the stir in the semi-dark, heads turning, and one man half-rising out of his chair. But now Buck was speaking, low and soothing. "Take it easy, pardner. It's all right. We got music to play." Sid threw off Buck's hand, but he saw the set and the waiting guitars, and he climbed up there as though by rote and picked up his big Gibson. He looked like himself, his skinny legs, his dark blue velour shirt looking like velvet under the lights, his face looking washed out, but that also could have been an effect of the lights. Calvin glanced at him, went back to adjusting a screw on one of his drums. Gary was tuning his bass, and Buck and I took our places. I was wearing the 22