Chapter 4

Walking out of the building, Joel had a feeling of exposure that he wasn't happy about, but he crafted a confident stride as he started walking down the sidewalk. It was late in the morning and there were a lot of people out and about. None of the bars or restaurants were open, no big surprise there. But since he had no idea where to go, Joel knew that he'd have to talk to someone at some point and it would be best to get someone who definitely belonged. So he kept walking.

After about an hour, he came upon a Goodwill. He was surprised, but that seemed perfect. A place with cheap stuff and someone who would know where a grocery store was. Food was more important than clothes at the moment, but he was glad to find it for later.

He went inside and quickly explained that he was new in town and needed a cheap grocery store. The person at the counter was able to give him directions just a couple of blocks over and actually closer to the bar than he had known. That was the problem about wandering around in a place he didn't know. (Not that there was any place he knew at the moment.)

He quickly walked to the grocery store and carefully chose items that would last and that he could afford with the little bit of cash he had left. He picked out a bag of generic cereal that should last a while, a few canned goods, some cheap bread, milk. Then, he got to the checkout and everything was being scanned. He realized that a couple of the items he'd chosen because they were on sale were only on sale if he bought two or more. Now, he was worried that he wouldn't have enough and would have to put something back.

He stood there, waiting, counting up what he had and watching the numbers creeping closer and closer to his limit.

"Hey, aren't you Joel from the bar?"

Startled at someone talking to him in a place where he knew the names of three people (and that was more than he knew anywhere else), Joel looked over and saw Langston from the night before, pushing a cart. He felt a little embarrassed because in that moment of inattention, the cost had gone above his limit and now he'd have to tell the checker to take something out.

"Hey. Yeah. Langston."

"Yep. Two syllables," Langston said, grinning.

"You live near here, then?"

"Yeah, that's why I go to Jack's bar. Walking distance."

"That's 50 dollars and 80 cents," the checker interrupted.

Joel looked down at the cash in his hand. He only had 45 dollars left. Langston didn't look like he was leaving. So Joel cleared his throat and tried not to show his embarrassment.

"Oh. Uh... Could you take back the..."

"Here, I've got it," Langston said.

Joel felt his face warming.

"I just miscounted. It's okay," Joel said.

"Yep, and I can get it for you."

Joel tried to come up with something flippant and clever, but he couldn't. He didn't make eye contact as Langston walked over and handed cash to the checker. He was about to protest when he realized that Langston was covering his entire bill, not just the five dollars he was short, but Langston stopped him with a look. He started putting his own stuff on the conveyor belt and nudged Joel out of the way.

"Come on, Joel. You're a smart guy. Don't be like the dumb ones."

"Huh?" That got his attention.

"Don't be like those dumb guys who think that accepting help when you need it is somehow a threat to your manhood. Everyone needs help sometimes. So you accept the help when you need it and you give the help when you can. I'm in a situation where I can help, but I wasn't always. And my dad taught me early on to be willing to accept help. So when I come by the bar next time, I don't want you avoiding me because it's somehow humiliating that I paid your grocery bill."

"Thanks, Langston," Joel said, softly.

"You're welcome. Don't get lost going back because you're staring at your feet."

Joel lifted his head and saw Langston grinning. He smiled tentatively.

"Good job. Now, you're blocking the way. So get out of here."

Joel chuckled and relaxed a little. Then, he took his bags and then walked back to the apartment and was glad to see food that he could eat...and embarrassed by having someone else pay his bill or not, he was glad to still have some money in his pocket. Once he got his first paycheck, he'd hit up the Goodwill for some clothes, maybe find out if there was a place he could get a cheap haircut.

For now, he sat on his bed and looked around the place he was staying. Without anything in mind that he needed to do, he felt an edge of panic start creeping in.

Who am I? Why am I here? Why was someone trying to kill me? Is there anyone who knows me? Am I a criminal? Am I a good guy? Am I really a nobody?

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and tried to calm down. He couldn't let himself get lost in that. It wasn't the right time to be panicking. Was there ever a right time? Probably not, but if there was, it was when someone could be there to talk him through it, and right now, he didn't have that. And he couldn't because no one could know why he wanted to panic. Not yet.

He stood up and walked out of the small apartment. The walls that marked the boundaries of the place he was living were clearly added later. Most of the space on the second floor of the bar was wide open, although there were some signs that there had been other walls before. Joel couldn't help but wonder what had happened because this could either be transformed into a second floor of the business or could become rentals...although maybe with the bar open late, people would hesitate to live there. Regardless, most of what he could see was just boxes, probably supplies for the bar below, and Joel was struck anew by the trust Jack was putting in him. While he couldn't get into the bar itself, Joel could easily go through all this stuff and find something valuable.

And he wasn't even tempted to do so.

Maybe that means I'm a good guy. If even when I'm poor, I don't have any temptation to steal from a near-stranger, then, maybe I'm not such a bad guy.

It was something anyway. Not much, but it was something.

He spent the rest of the afternoon getting things organized in the tiny space of his apartment. If he was going to be living in so little space, then, he needed to be very neat and tidy. One couldn't afford to be a slob in a tiny apartment. His clothes were still wet in the shower so he would have to keep wearing what he had for the time being.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

As Joel was playing the piano, it was just after midnight, and a song came to him. It was pretty melancholy, but he decided to play it anyway. It took a bit to pick out an appropriate key. He didn't want it to be too high for him to sing. He hadn't done much singing so far, but there were quite a few people in the bar and they weren't being too raucous. He'd be heard.

So he played the introduction and then he started to sing. He heard the noise die down for about the first time that night. They were listening to him.

"Well so here I am at the end of the road
Where do I go from here?
I always figured it would be like this
Still nothing seems to be quite clear

All the words have been spoken and the prophecy fulfilled
But I just can't decide where to go
Yes, it's been quite a day and I should go to sleep
But tomorrow I will wake up and I'll know

That I've got to begin again
Though I don't know how start
Yes, I've got to begin again
And it's hard."

Then, he played an instrumental bridge, the words throbbing in his brain. He almost didn't want to go on to the second verse, but he couldn't stop in the middle of the song, so he moved into it and kept singing the second verse. It was a little easier to sing because it didn't have the same connection to his problems, but still hard.

Then, with a little flourish, he finished the song. To his surprise, there was applause. He appreciated it, but he almost couldn't turn around to acknowledge it. He knew the song was more about having to begin again after breaking up with someone, but the first verse had really hit him deeply in that part that couldn't stop thinking about what he must have lost. Still, he couldn't just ignore that people were enjoying what he played. He took a breath and plastered a smile on his face as he turned around and waved. Then, he turned back and decided to do an instrumental Billy Joel song, called "The Mexican Connection". It wasn't too complicated and he could fake his way through the parts he didn't really know as well. When he finished that, there was more applause.

He turned around again.

"Any requests?" he asked, knowing that was a major risk for a guy with amnesia to take. But his knowledge of music seemed pretty thorough. Still, it was a risk.

"'Night and Day'!" someone shouted out.

Joel thought about it and then nodded. He knew that one, too.

He turned back to the piano and started playing. He went through the verse and then moved into the much more familiar chorus.

"Night and Day, you are the one.
Only you beneath the moon and under the sun."

The enthusiastic applause that followed his performance was enough of a boost to lift him out of the momentary melancholy.

"More Billy Joel!"

"Can do!" Tony said.

He turned back again, and thought about it. It was getting close to the end of the night.

Perfect.

He started the song with the simple low octaves.

"I never ask you where you go
After I leave you in the morning
We go our different ways to separate situations
It's not that easy anymore.

Today I do what must be done
I give my time to total strangers
But now it feels as though the day goes on forever
More than it ever did before.

Until the night, until the night
I just might make it
Until the night, until the night
When I see you again."

He continued through the verses, the bridge, the instrumental interlude where he just did some improv because he couldn't really remember exactly how it went and then to the final chorus.

"Until the night
Until the night
I just might make it
Until the night
Until the night
I'll just keep holding on
Until the night
Until the night
When I see you again."

Then, he did a final flourish to end the song.

More applause.

He was appreciating it, but at the same time, he was gripped with a desire to run and hide in his dinky little apartment so that he could stop pretending that what he was doing was actually what he wanted. ...so he could stop pretending that he had any idea what he really wanted anyway.

Just keep holding on, he thought to himself. I just might make it.

He spent another hour playing and the bar started to clear out. The requests ended and those who were still there were mostly just drinking in silence. Tony took that opportunity to play some instrumental instead of vocal.

Then, Jack walked over and startled him.

"You can be done for the night, Joel."

"Oh. Okay, thanks."

"You all right?"

Joel stood up and feigned stretching.

"Still getting used to sitting at the piano for so long. You got a pillow or something?"

"Nope. You'll need to get calluses," Jack said.

"Well, if you keep me on, then, I'm sure I will."

He started for the exit.

"Joel, it's payday. Every Saturday night."

"Oh. Okay."

He followed Jack over to the till and felt a deep sense of relief at getting even a few hundred dollars. That was more than he had.

"Thanks," he said.

He started to walk away.

"Why are you really here, Joel?"

Joel stopped. After that pang he'd had tonight, he wasn't sure he could answer without giving himself away. He didn't turn around.

"I'm just trying to find myself, Jack. Right now, it's through music. That's all."

"Uh-huh."

"That's it," Joel said, trying to sound firm. "Good night."

"Good night."

Joel escaped back upstairs to the apartment. He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths, trying to escape from this awful feeling as he had escaped from Jack's scrutiny.

He thought about the songs that had been bouncing around in his head. Starting over, just getting through it.

"Forget about it, Joel," he said to himself. "You've forgotten everything else. Just forget that there was an anything else to forget in the first place. This is all there is. It can be enough."

He said that, but at the back of his mind, he felt that there was something else and it was better than this.

But what was it?