Head To Toe Black

He never made you feel attractive. In fact he always made you feel just the opposite. Whenever he walked into a room, he always looked like he was supposed to be there and that somehow made everyone else feel a little less put together. The last time I saw him, about two weeks ago, he looked so striking that it was hard to believe that he had come out of the womb like everyone else. He walked into the waiting room of the Shattuck suboxone clinic,where I was waiting, with the glide of a fog and all the lunacy of a laughing hyena. He wore a tattered black leather jacket that hugged his body like a loved one, black leather boots that went right up to the knee of his black jeans, black wraparound sunglasses, a perfectly fitted black Bratmobile t shirt, and as if his outfit wasn't perfect enough....he was wearing fuzzy gray earmuffs in the dead of August. He was perfect.
After signing in at the desk, he saw me and walked over. He stood in front of me, looking me up and down, smiling like a cat.
"Shawnie Brando,"he said. "It's nice to see your chemistry again. I'm glad they still let people like us in here."
"People like US? Man, if I had that outfit I'd feel alot more comfortable about that statement."
He sat down and we shook hands. I was glad he was there.
"So what's going on, Mike. I haven't seen you for awhile."
"Aww, you know how it is. No rest for the white man. People always trying to get at ya and shit. You know?"
"Yeah I do. Yeah I do. Fucking...ahh... so what's up? You in the suboxone program?"
"Yeah, I've been clean for 6 months now. Haven't done shit since, ya know? I broke up with Jen and, well, she broke up with me cause I was getting high so much and I just decided I needed to get my life back together, man. I mean, I was out all the time, sleeping in shitty motel rooms, not seeing the baby for days, not going to work, ya know, just...losing it, ya know. I mean, I lost it basically. Lost her and the baby anyway. I'm trying to get back in her life but, ya know, she's kinda skeptical, which I understand, ya know? What's up with you? How long you got?"
"Uhh...two months."
"Two months? Good for you, man. Good for you. Bugs and Rats still playing? Last time I saw you I was so fucking jammed. It was at the Middle East and all I remember was that I was waiting in line for the bathroom with,like, 20 other people and everybody was bitching about how long the person in the bathroom was taking and then all of a sudden the door burst open and you and your bass player come crashing to the floor with ,like, these weird glasses on. Both of you got up, looked at everyone in line, and ran away. Man, that was the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen. Seriously."
We both started laughing. I remembered that show. Barely. Me and my bass player Radek were in the bathroom doing coke and had no idea that we'd been in their for about 20 minutes. No one bothered to knock. As to why we fell, I have no idea.
I told him that we hadn't been playing cause my drummer moved to Philly. He told me that he really liked seeing us and that made me feel good. I liked talking to this kid. It's not everyday that you can find someone where the conversation flows naturally and laughter isn't difficult.
"So how's staying clean for you," I asked. "You having an OK time with it?"
His whole demeanor changed. He didn't answer me right away and all the lines in his face smoothed over. I could tell he was having a hard time with it.
"You know how it is, man. You have OK periods but most of the time it's just a constant struggle. You got that little voice just....uggh. It's brutal. It really is. I don't know, man. I just really wanna see my baby again, man."
"How longs it been since you seen her?"
He suddenly got real quiet. He started rubbing his hands together and he lowered his head to his chest. I thought his eyes would pierce the floor.
He took a long breath and said,"I haven't seen her for 6 months. Jen won't let me see her until I start giving her child support, which is understandable but I'm having a really hard time getting a job. Any job, ya know?"
"Tell me about it. I just called my old job to see if I could come back. I couldn't find anything else."
"They taking you back?"
"Yeah. I start in two weeks though."
"Do you think I could get a job there?"
"Yeah, totally. They're always looking for drivers. I can put in a good word for you too."
"Yeah, definitely. If you could do that I'd really appreciate it."
"Hey, no problem."
The door to our left opened. A nurse walked out and called out,"Mike."
He stood up and raised his hand.
"Listen, Shawn, I gotta go but let me get your number and I'll call you in a couple days about that job."
"Yeah, no problem."
I gave him my number and watched those earmuffs glide through the doors, hoping that he'd give me a call. I really liked that kid.
Two minutes later they called my name. I walked through the doors and did my thing.
Two weeks have passed and I hadn't heard from him. I hoped he was doing all right. I wondered if maybe he had found a job or if I accidentally gave him the wrong number.
This morning,as I was getting ready for work, I got a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. I picked it up.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice said,"Hi, is this Shawnie Brando? Am I saying that right?"
"Yeah, this is him."
"Hello, this is Mike Hetson's sister Pam. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Mike passed away last night."
"What? What happened?"
"Well, we're not 100% sure yet but, it looks a heroin overdose. There was a needle next to him and he had dried blood on his arm so we're pretty sure that's what it was. We'll need the toxicology report to be sure but it looks pretty obvious. I've been up all night calling everyone in his phone so I can't talk long but when we know everything and make the funeral arrangements we'll let you know, OK?"
"Uhh...yeah. Thanks for calling. I'm sorry. He's a really great guy."
"Thank you."
She hung up.
I sat there for a few minutes thinking about the last time I saw him and then I went to work. Today was really hard. I had to keep from crying in front of customers all day. One customer I didn't even try to hold it in. I just started bawling as I drove him to the airport. He didn't say anything.
All day I've been picturing him in that outfit. It wasn't an outfit that most mortals could wear. Head to toe black and fuzzy earmuffs in 90 degree weather. He looked stunning. I mean stunning. When he walked into a room, you knew that he had arrived, that he didn't give a fuck about you and your weak ego. Most guys can't hang like that. You better not turn around cause he might steal your woman. He really could.
But he never would. He was a really nice guy and I had a lot of respect for him with or without the drugs. Makes me scared for myself. He had a lot to live for and he blew it, ya know. Where the fuck am I going? Where am I gonna end up?