Painted Black by Greg Kihn Page A

clock and saw that Cricket and Winston wouldn’t arrive in Baltimore for several more hours. He couldn’t call and explain yet.

Chapter Four
    Sweet Schadenfreude
    Bobby didn’t remember going into his apartment. He didn’t remember taking a shower and lying down on the bed. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember anything.
    But when the phone next to his bed rang, it all came screaming back like the sooty shockwave of some terrible memory. He looked at the ringing phone, and for some reason he began to cry. It sounded so sad and mournful. He couldn’t make his hand reach out and pick it up. He realized he was still tripping.
    â€œWho is it?” he shouted at the ringing phone. “Who’s inside of you?”
    The absurdity of the statement made Bobby laugh. Who’s inside of you? Indeed, who was inside that black plastic box? What did they want? Bobby doubted he could carry on much of a conversation anyway, so maybe it was a good thing to just shout at it. As if in response, the phone stopped ringing. He watched it cautiously, afraid it would come alive and bite him.
    What if it was Cricket?
    Could he talk to her in his present condition? No problem , he thought, I’ll just tell her the truth. It’s a crazy story, but Clovis and Erlene will back me up.
    Then he thought, No, maybe I shouldn’t tell her. She’d only get mad at me. I broke a promise . Bobby realized with a jolt that for the first time in his life, he was contemplating lying to his wife.
    He watched the phone.
    Cricket would understand, wouldn’t she? Bobby wasn’t too sure anymore. Once upon a time, she would have. But now, it seemed unlikely.
    The phone didn’t move. It stopped ringing. The silence was deafening.
    Guilt, perhaps fueled by the residual effect of the psychedelics, ate away at Bobby’s mind. The overall effect left him feeling drained.
    The phone suddenly rang again and made Bobby jump. It sounded as loud as a fire alarm. Bobby snatched it up, expecting to hear Cricket’s accusing voice. His face felt sore from smiling for the last twelve hours while tripping. His upper cheeks must have been locked in a rictus grin for hours because now they hurt. Also, his mouth and throat were as dry as cotton.
    â€œCricket?” he rasped.
    It was Brian Jones’s voice. “What? Buddy Holly and the Crickets? No, I want to talk to Dust Bin Bob!”
    Bobby was confused.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œIt’s Brian! Brian Jones! You were at my house last night.”
    Brian! The asshole! Was he calling to apologize? It was all his fault.
    Bobby’s voice was hoarse and throaty.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    A tsunami of emotions unexpectedly swelled up in front of Bobby. Suddenly, he couldn’t control himself and he began to tremble. He thought he might cry again. Bobby hoped his tremors weren’t audible on the telephone. He took a deep breath.
    Fighting back his own spontaneous tears, he suddenly realized that the sobbing he heard was coming from Brian.
    â€œIt’s Anita! She’s gone!”
    Bobby looked at the phone as if it were alive in his hands, twisting like a snake.
    â€œI can’t help you. I’ve got my own problems.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Brian couldn’t conceive of anyone else’s problems being more important that his.
    â€œMy woman is gone, too,” Bobby said shaking. “She left after you made me break my promise. Remember? You and Anita laughed at me? Well, now she’s gone back to America, thanks to you.”
    â€œSorry, don’t remember a thing.”
    â€œWell, because of you my wife has left me and taken my son.”
    â€œBecause of me?”
    â€œThen you beat up Anita at The Scotch of Saint James. Do you remember that?”
    â€œOh God!” Brian gasped. “That was it! I didn’t see her after that.”
    â€œYou mean to tell me you don’t remember a