Low Down Page #5

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"passionate. "

But I haven't been with

anyone else besides him.

Ah.

Well, that's fine.

Mm-hmm.

Man, I have a big day tomorrow.

We should hit the road.

Are you ready?

Ma, do I have any clean handkerchiefs?

What?

Do I have any clean handkerchiefs?

- Hand soap?

- Handkerchiefs!

Oh, handkerchiefs!

- "I'm sorry, sir.

I... I'm clean.

I...

I promise to do whatever it takes. "

Aw, Jesus Christ.

Okay.

What the...?

Get rid of that f***ing dope.

Don't flush it.

Joe. Jesus.

Oh, hey, Amy.

Step aside, man, and hear my tale.

Yeah, yeah.

Thought maybe you were

some of "L.A.'s finest. "

No, no, 'tis Greeks bearing gifts.

- For you.

- Thank you so much, Joe.

Yeah. Thanks, man.

Wow.

Joe.

Yeah. Wow.

It...

This is not mine.

Kitty, come here. The coast is clear.

Joe, Amy, this is Kitty.

Hi, I'm Kitty.

Yeah, she's a singer.

I've been working with

her voice a little.

Hi. Kitty. Nice to meet you.

- Hi.

- Joe.

- A singer, huh?

- Yeah.

Hey, Amy.

Can I offer you some pop?

- Or some water maybe?

- No, I'm good.

- Oh, okay.

- You sure?

So what's going on, man?

Well, I had my day in court.

- Yeah?

- Excuse me.

So what's it gonna be?

Are they gonna send you up for a spell?

No, not that. But...

I got five years' probation.

That's 1,825 days.

Some kid. She was a math major.

Yeah.

They dole out any other punishment?

- N.A. meetings?

- Nah, thank God.

If I never see the inside

of another one of those

sewing circles of misery,

- I'll be doing all right.

- Hear, hear.

You sure dodged a

bullet there, Giuseppe.

- Yeah.

- The judge a jazz fan or what?

Are you psychic now, Hobby?

I don't think so.

Because he was a jazz fan.

A big-time fan of the

recordings I did with Prez.

Far f***ing out, man.

The legendary Joe Albany

rides into the sunset!

Fantastic! Congrats.

Man, man, man. Am I itching to play.

Anywhere, anytime.

How 'bout we try to book some

practice time down at the union?

Maybe get a couple cats

together, maybe not.

But at least we're playing.

Hell, worst case, we

can try and clean up

this ungodly sty and

practice here, but...

Yeah, I got rid of the piano.

It was a real piece of

sh*t, anyways. Remember?

You still have your horn, right, Hobby?

Well, that brass b*tch...

that one done run off

with the ol' piano.

- Hmm.

- I hear they shacked up

- at that pawnshop over on Third.

- Yeah.

- F***.

F***.

F***.

Hey, hey, hey.

- F***!

- Who's that?

Well. Hello.

And thank you, my dear.

Oh, sorry about the interruption there.

But, you know, pssh...

I forgot my key.

Lew's in between pads.

He's staying here just temporary-like.

Well, we're gonna get going.

Joe just came by to share

some glad tidings, man.

Don't go. You just got here.

- Come on, Amy. Well,

it was nice to meet you.

Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you as well.

- It was nice to meet you.

- We can still play, Joe.

- Get your horn, man.

That's your daughter, huh?

Hey, ain't you all grown up now?

Come on, Jo.

So listen, Nat.

I've been trying to line up some gigs

and I know you're the

main man about town, so...

Oh?

Uh-huh.

Yeah, that's what I hear.

Drag. Yeah.

Well, okay. If anything comes up,

I do mean anything,

I am ready, willing and able.

Yeah, it's Hollywood 6-4636.

That's correct.

All right, well, keep up the good fight

and hopefully I will

speak with you soon.

Okay, take care, Nat. Yeah, bye.

No luck?

- Not yet.

But hope, she springs eternal, my dear.

I got a whole book of hope right here.

Is this Mom's number?

I think so.

Mm, yeah.

Does she ever cross your mind?

No, not often.

Well, maybe she should. I mean,

she did have something on

the ball once upon a time.

Besides being a drunk.

Don't do that, Jo.

We all fall down on our ass.

We all need a hand getting up.

I want you to grab on. Grab me.

- You okay?

- Yeah.

Best mud of your morning.

- It's kind of squishy.

- Feels good.

You okay?

Yeah.

You wanna hop up here?

Anything to drink?

Yeah, I'll...

I'll have a ginger ale, please?

And two phone books?

That's great. Thanks.

- Are you okay?

- I don't feel well.

Did you take your pills?

I threw... I

- I threw them out.

Is that okay?

Okay.

No, they made me feel like sh*t.

Sorry.

- It's also getting dark...

- Yeah.

- Oh, my God!

- It's okay.

Thank you.

What the f*** are you looking at?!

I'm sorry!

I'm gonna go call Gram, okay?

Sir, please walk outside.

No!

Stop! He's sick! He has seizures!

He can't help it! He's sick!

You're not helping the

situation any better.

- Calm down!

- He can't control it. He's sick!

You are not helping this!

He's sick! He has epilepsy!

He's sick and he can't

help it! He has seizures!

Calm down.

He would've been admitted

there not long ago...

one hour, maybe two.

One moment.

Are you a relative?

Yes, I am.

Well, he's being held for evaluation.

What does that mean exactly?

Psychiatric evaluation.

You can speak with the

doctor in the morning.

Yes. Thank you. I'll do that.

What did they say?

Cole's getting the medical

attention that he needs now.

All right?

Please, cara mia, don't

fall apart. All right?

- Can I see him?

- Of course you're gonna see him.

Oh, Joe. Thank God you're here.

Cole had a seizure and

was arrested, and Amy...

I don't wanna hear about that now, Ma.

I just need some f***ing peace.

No!

That's what you need.

Shh, shh.

Look at me.

Look at me.

- All right?

- I can't.

I want you to try to sleep.

Shh, shh.

- I can't.

- Shh, shh, shh.

You're a strong girl.

You're a strong girl.

Excuse me.

Hi.

Hi.

May I leave a note for Sheila Albany?

Have you checked the

bar down the street?

No.

Can I help you?

I was looking for...

Sheila Albany.

Sheila, if you know this kid,

better tell her to get lost.

That's my kid.

Come over here.

Sit down.

Well, you came looking for me.

So now what?

I wanted to see you.

Huh.

Well, there's not much to see anymore.

You want something?

No, I'm good.

And a ginger ale for my fair charge.

You look more like Joe all the time.

What does he have to say about me?

He doesn't say anything about you.

How is he?

He's in bad shape.

I don't know how to help him.

It is a true pity that

he was forced to come back

to this creative wasteland.

"Forced to come back"?

Deportation.

Least that's what he told me.

Didn't he tell you,

his little musketeer?

Sure, I knew that.

I just didn't know

he was talking to you.

Well, we speak quite frequently.

He told me about your boyfriend

and his unfortunate affliction.

An interesting choice

for your deflowering,

I'll give you that.

- What are you talking about?

- Never mind.

Let's...

let's talk about you.

I mean, what are you into? Are you...

a scholar or a cheerleader

or something quite different altogether?

Your father is very

concerned for your welfare.

And let's just say the

reports I've been getting

are less than stellar.

- I don't believe you.

- Hmm?

I don't believe you.

No? I can't say I blame you.

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