Page 53 of Shame Me
More worrisome was that he ate a lone taco. He didn’t even get a soda. Fortunately, Braden carried the conversation. Because we had a day off between Chicago and Detroit, we’d be spending the next day here and then on show day for Detroit, leave early—and Braden told us about all the free things we could do during our day off, instead of playing cards or watching old sitcoms. He told us there was no admission fee to visit the zoo or Millenium Park before telling us about all his other ideas.
Mick said, “Slow down, fella. You need to rest during your days off.”
“To hell with that. I’ve never been to Chicago before and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back. I wanna say I’ve actually seen a few things on tour.”
It was moments like those, when I could see the innocence and optimism in Braden, that I cherished my friendship with him.
But even he couldn’t pull Zack out of the crevasse he’d fallen into.
Before the rest of us finished, Zack crumpled up the wrapper from his taco. “I’m gonna explore a bit. I’ll see you guys at the venue.”
“You know where it is?”
“I got my phone. I can find it.”
“Soundcheck’s at three. Don’t be late.”
Zack didn’t even bother to roll his eyes as he stood up, taking his tray to the trashcan and emptying it before the rest of us could say another word. Mick shook his head, and I wondered if he was as concerned about Zack’s behavior as I was.
As we were getting up to go, Mick said, “I’m gonna call an Uber. Who wants to ride with me?”
That would be another expense and I didn’t know if it would cost more if we rode along, but I’d ordered less to eat at Taco Bellthan I ordinarily would have to justify a latte—so I was going to get it.
The temperature felt on the chilly side when we left the building and I pulled my jacket tight around my frame. Noticing, Mick said, “You sure you don’t want to ride to the venue?”
“Only if you can wait.”
“If I’m here when you get out of Starbucks, come on over.”
I also figured if he was getting picked up just as we were leaving Starbucks, they could make a quick stop. After all, Mick would see us exiting if he was still there.
But Starbucks was a little slow and Mick’s Uber driver was a little fast. I got a short Caffè Mocha and Cy, obviously changing his mind, got a “regular” coffee. Braden just got a cup of water and, by the time we headed out the door, Mick was gone.
Braden said, “I wonder where Zack went.”
Cy said, “Text him. If he’s close, we can all walk together.”
But Zack never responded. And I tried not to worry as we made our way to the venue—which was almost a mile away. Still, we got there in plenty of time for the soundcheck. Fortunately, Braden had started bringing cards to the venue as well, because we’d have some downtime before the actual show, and none of us wanted to go back to the motel.
But when it came time for soundcheck, Zack hadn’t shown up. Mick’s face and neck, as he shouted into his phone, were almost as red as a ripe tomato. “Where the fuck are you? Soundcheck started two minutes ago, so you better get your ass here now!”
He hadn’t actually been talking to Zack but leaving a voicemail—and I flew into pure panic mode. “Should we go look for him? What if—”
Braden said, “He’s not even five minutes late. We can—”
Mick bellowed. “Doesn’t matter! He knows my rules—”
“Yeah, old man,” Zack shouted, appearing from backstage. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m here. I had to find the fuckin’ door. Did you know there are a shit-ton of locked doors on this place?”
Oh, shit. If I wasn’t mistaken, Zack was hammered out of his skull.
And Mick knew it. “Are you drunk?”
Smirking, Zack walked toward the microphone, nearly tripping, but not on anything I could see. “I just had a little to take the edge off.”
“You’ve had more than a little, son. You act like you drank the whole barrel of moonshine.”
Zack started laughing. “Moonshine. I’d like to try that someday.”
