Chapter Two

1957, Harlem, New York City.

Rasheed was 17 and wasn't doing coffee runs anymore. He got a growth spurt making him tall and lanky and had built up muscles from unloading fish. He had grown out small dreads but was still having trouble trying to grow facial hair. His attraction was still to guitars but now he had a new attraction. It was to a girl, the moment he seen her he fell in love with her. Anne Romani, she was a gorgeous Italian girl with long black hair and dark brown eyes. She had a smile that was centred by two perfect dimples and it could light up a room. Only problem was Rasheed never had the courage to introduce himself. He played at her fathers restaurant everyday with his band The Speakeasy Gentlemen. He was good friends with his band members so he loved playing and practicing with them. Rasheed was on guitar then his best friend John was the lead singer from The Bronx. They met in a bar in Harlem which had entertainment all night and Rasheed was impressed with John's vocals. John sang a cover of "Hound Dog" by Big Mama Thorton and he digged Rasheed's riff's. They got to talking about wanting to make a band. Talking about how they would've had to go to a speakeasy twenty years ago they thought The Speakeasy Gentlemen would be a sick name. John was built like a tank from lifting 150 pound sacks of sugar everyday. He was white with rosy cheeks, blonde short hair and big round blue eyes. His eyes were a little too spaced apart getting the nickname Fish. John knew a drummer from Yonkers who was like nothing ever seen before. He was originally from Cuba, named Francisco Pérez. He was skinny, short with brown hair to his shoulders and a big bushy moustache. He was missing his pinky on his right hand and was an alcoholic. All that was left to find was a bass player and eventually, the band found one who was perfect. They were walking through Harlem one summer night when some hoodlums stole money. They stole it out of a guys guitar case and the band chased after them. They couldn't catch up but the guy was still grateful for their effort. He introduced himself as Li Zhang and said he was homeless. His grandfather got sick and was sent to the hospital so Li couldn't afford to pay bills. Now he played in the streets for any money he could get to eat. The band made him a deal -

"you join our band you'll make back that money plus all of the money from our first show." Li agreed grabbing his Fender Jazz Bass, that was it the band was made. An African-American from the docks, a white boy from the sugar factory, an alcoholic Cuban and a homeless Chinese kid. It was quite a band but it worked and they all got along. The restaurant they played at was called "Paolo's Restauranté Nocturno." They all shared a two bedroom apartment down the street. John bunked with Li and Francisco was with Rasheed. Everything was usually good even though Francisco drank everyday which sometimes ruined practice. He had been drinking since he was fourteen years old after a cartel killed his father. They also took his pinky finger to scare him but Francisco didn't care about that, he wanted his father back. After his father was murdered Francisco burned his finger on a hot fire poker to stop the bleeding. Then he picked up the phone and dialled 9-1-1 except the police did nothing. They practically threw a party because apparently his father was also in the cartel. Francisco picked up his fathers twenty sixer of whiskey and drank. After that he found a white Canadian family on vacation and gave them all he had for a favour. What he had was a secret stash in the floor of 650 Cuban pesos. The family was driving through New York once they left Cuba and he asked them to drop him off. They also let him keep his money after they turned it into American for him then wished him the best. The band couldn't replace him, even with his drinking he was too damn good of a drummer. Not only that but they were all like family, through thick and thin. Rasheed was making enough from shows to buy himself a 1955 candy apple red Ford Thunderbird. He bought it used off an old man who worked with him at the docks. Rasheed and John were also making enough to quit their jobs. Rasheed wrote most of the bands songs including the restaurants favourite "I Can't Seem to Forget About You." In fact he was sitting down writing a song when he got a call from his mother. She had bad news, his father had passed away. Rasheed's heart was broken he hadn't gone and played for him in weeks being too busy with the band. That seemed to be a ridiculous excuse now

"the funeral is next Tuesday" his mother said. Rasheed hung up and picked up his first guitar ever from his 11th birthday and smashed it. He brought it down once on the floor, then again through a glass table and finally into the wall.

"What are you doing?" John yelled

"yeah are you crazy?" Li seconded. Francisco was standing there laughing with a half finished bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was laughing until Rasheed took the bottle of vodka from him and downed it.

"What the hell man!" Francisco said now joining the shouting. That was Rasheed's first time drinking and he was already black out drunk. Rasheed left the apartment forgetting his keys which was good because he probably would've tried to drive. As he went outside he seen it was pouring just like the day he met his father. He'd never forget the look Percy gave him that day or the way he'd watch him play — he loved playing for him and he'd often join in serenading. Percy usually thought he was someone else like Billy Furry or Hank Williams and sometimes wouldn't remember Rasheed. He was so hurt he didn't know what to do, regretting breaking his guitar for a second he changed his mind. He didn't care and never wanted to play or even touch a guitar again. That was until he passed a music store and seen a brand new 1957 Fender Stratocaster in the window. It was baby blue of course just like his first one. "No I couldn't" he told himself then walked away. He didn't go home that night, he just walked around until morning. The alcohol wore off, he was hungover and decided to pass out in an alley. At this point of the night with everything going on and feeling as sick as he did, sleeping in an alley didn't sound so bad. Sleeping away the day he finally woke up that night and had a killer migraine. His stomach rumbled at him asking to be fed and standing up he got a little lightheaded. He started to make his way out of the alley when he found a quarter full bottle of Bacardi. It was by a dumpster and some cardboard signs, he assumed it was a hobo's setup. "I don't know" he told himself "it might help with the migraine though" he thought. He felt so depressed he didn't care anymore, he picked up the bottle and drank it. Coughing after he finished he chucked the bottle hearing it smash behind him. It was only his second day an alcoholic and he feared he was beginning to enjoy it — no one enjoyed the feeling the next morning though. Heading back to the music store thinking of that guitar he seen a clock in the window that read 11:00PM. There it was...the Stratocaster, thinking for a moment he looked up and down the street deciding his move. Looking around he saw under a bench behind him there was a rock. As he picked it up it was the size of his hand. He turned to the window and smashed it with the then let it slip from his fingers. Reaching in the shattered window for the guitar he heard a siren followed by red and blue lights that shocked him. Now full of adrenaline he snatched the guitar and started down the sidewalk. The cop cruiser went from sitting there to accelerating to 60 khm down the street. Rasheed running drunk and stumbling carrying the guitar was having the time of his life.

"Drop the guitar and stop with your hands on your head, we have you!" The officers demanded at Rasheed. He wasn't going to stop running, he stayed a few metres infront of the police chasing him. He slid across the hood of a parked vehicle And continued to run a bit more before turning down an alley and hopping a wooden fence. He looked around for a place to hide before entering a dumpster behind a bakery. The police drove through the alley and around the buildings

"we lost him" one of the officers yelled. The cruiser sped away and they continued their search but were unlucky. Rasheed jumped out of the dumpster covered in week old pastries and decided it was probably time to go home. He reached the apartment and walked in with his brand new guitar.

"You got some explaining to do" Li confronted.

"Yeah man where have you been? We missed out on two nights of pay because of you" John said.

"That's a nice guitar" Francisco gawked, "my father died" Rasheed explained. Everyone was speechless then apologized for riding him and tried to comfort him.

"I also stole the guitar from a music store downtown. You'll probably read about it in the news" Rasheed said. And they did, right under a headlining about a 7 man massacre linked to the mafia.

"I heard it was "La Morte a Piedi" that mafia around Harlem" Li said.

"Ain't that the same guys who put two other guys in the ocean and they washed up? Their name means Death Walking or something in Italian right?" Rasheed asked. "Yeah, yeah man my friend works at the factory they were killed in. He said a lot of shady crap goes down there. Told me he's heard their name a few times, seen a couple scary Italian guys go in his bosses office too" Li said.

"Wasn't one of the seven guys Thomas Lincoln, the boss?" John asked pointing to the paper.

"Yeah that sounds right, I didn't see that I was just skimming over the gruesome details. Said they were shot, stabbed, beaten and even one decapitated. These are real deal gangsters" Li replied.

"Jesus how have they not been caught yet" Rasheed questioned.

"I'm guessing they're good at covering their tracks or could even be paying off cops. Now, can we get back to practicing?" Francisco said. The past week Rasheed has been writing a song for his father that he was about to finish, it just needed a name. It came to him after some thinking and he handed the lyrics to John for practicing vocals.

"Identity" John said reading the title

"...I love it" he added.

"Francisco give me some drums...a little faster, yeah like that. Alright now Li match him with some bass, yes that's it. Rasheed you come in however you feel. Keep that going boys" John said.

🎶Let me tell you something baby, we're all just a little bit crazy, in a world like this it'll make you that way, give me love now girl 'cause you know I won't stay, if I like you I might give you some of what's in this flask, we'll never know the real one another because we live under our masks🎶 Rasheed came in with a strong, smooth riff meeting the bands melody. They continued the song smiling all knowing they had made a hit. It was that night and the restaurant loved the new song and since it was a good show the band went out. It was tradition after a good show they went to a small dive in bar called "Mickie's Mixers." Mickey was a big fan of the band and gave them drinks on the house. The band used that to advantage to talk to ladies. John and Li were focused on two blonde twins who kept ordering vodka cran's. Francisco was busy flirting with a cute Latina speaking in Spanish. He liked her and her style as she just ordered a beer. Rasheed was alone at the counter - he'd usually get juice, water or coffee but now he has a taste for alcohol. He got Mickey to give him a whole bottle of Jack. He then asked an old man smoking at a nearby table to bum a cigarette. The man gave him one along with a match which Rasheed lit off the bottom of his shoe. He took a long haul off of the cigarette and exhaled the smoke.

"Hey how you holding up Rasheed?" Mickey asked.

"I don't know Mick, I got my fathers funeral tomorrow"

"I'm sorry kid, I know he would be proud of you" Mickey said. He was an old bald African-American man with a beard, he owned the bar for twenty years and seen the band as the kids he never had.

"Thanks Mick that means a lot"

"Your welcome son, now just try and enjoy the night you need to...to...you need to take a look at that." Mickey said looking over Rasheed's shoulder at a group of beautiful young women that had walked in. It was Anne and her friends, she was laughing which changed Rasheed's mood from only witnessing. They locked eyes and she started to approach him making Rasheed almost forget how to breathe. He thought he was in a dream as he took the last drag off his cigarette then put it out.

"Aren't you that big guitar player from that band, the one at my fathers restaurant?" Anne questioned and Rasheed snapped back into reality.

"Y-yeah, you've actually listened to us play?"

"Of course you guys are great, especially you."

"Well thank you that means a lot but I have to ask, what's a beautiful girl like you doing here?"

"Oh a gentleman with the compliment I see. Rasheed right? I come to places like this with my friends to to get a rise out of my father. He treats me like a baby still and won't let me out of the house too much, not after my mom passed."

"I'm so sorry about your mother. My father just passed too, as for your dad though I can't blame him. I wouldn't let you out either if you were my daughter, you're too precious."

"Precious?"

"You're amazing Anne."

"You're giving me a lot of compliments Rasheed. I'm sorry about your dad...how do you know my name? You're on a roll, how about a drink?"

"Of course ma'am, Mick can I get a glass of Bacardi?" Rasheed said leaning back trying to play smooth. They sat, drank, had conversation, a great time until one of her friends interrupted.

"Anne lets go, I met this guy Freddie and he's having a party a couple blocks away."

"Umm I don't know. Rasheed do you want to come?" Anne asked.

"I can't, my fathers funeral is tomorrow morning I should really get going."

"That's fine. Maybe another time then?" Anne replied before giving him a kiss on the cheek. The girls walked away and John came over to Rasheed to say

"Hey these blonde twins might be triplets. You want in?" Rasheed laughed and said "No I got my eye on something else." John followed Rasheed's eyes to Anne.

"Oh no that'll never happen pal she's too high maintenance"

"We'll see about that and no, no she's not" Rasheed told John smiling. Anne was out front of the bar having a smoke with her friends when a black Cadillac pulled up. A man in all black wearing a hat and overcoat with a suit underneath grabbed Anne by the arm. He started dragging her to the car as she started yelling. Rasheed ran out of the bar and punched the man in the face.

"No Rasheed!" Anne yelled as the man pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Rasheed.

"Go ahead, please give me a reason to ice you kid" the man threatened. Rasheed froze starring down the barrel as the band ran out too. John pulled Rasheed back and said

"Woah, woah lets all calm down." Anne put her hands on Rasheed's shoulders -

"it's okay really I promise" she said. The man put her in the car and put away his gun. He opened his door but before getting in he turned to the band and threatened again

"You better forget about this or I'll be back." He started the engine and Anne waved to Rasheed before they sped off and Francisco asked

"What the hell was that about." Li put his arm around one of the blondes -

"I don't know but let's get these girls home" he said.

"Yeah let's go Romeo" John joked nudging Rasheed and they all headed back to their apartment. Rasheed sat out in the living room with his new stolen guitar playing a few strings here and there. He couldn't stop thinking about Anne and what happened still worried. He finished the bottle of Jack from earlier and passed out blocking out the noise from his friends. He woke up abruptly off the couch then sat back down. It was morning and he didn't want to go, not being able to believe what he had to attend. His fathers funeral, it made him sick to his stomach. He finally got up and put on the suit his mother dropped off for him. He looked in the mirror all in all black with a bow tie and shiny formal shoes. When he was about to leave the apartment he looked back at his guitar and and decided to bring it and play,play for his father again. He picked it up and went outside to wait for his mother and sister. She finally pulled up and he went to the back door, opening it he heard his mother say

"I'm gonna tell him."

"No, please don't!" Lynette said.

"Tell me what?" Rasheed said getting in. "Nothing don't worry about it Rasheed" Lynette insisted

"Lynette's boyfriend Tom hit her, again."

"Mama!" Lynette yelled.

"Again, when was the first time? Why haven't I heard about this Lynette?" Rasheed questioned.

"Last week when I got up he smacked me, he had still been up drinking. This morning he pushed me down but it's because he's stressing over work. It's nothing really Rasheed."

"After dads funeral I'm going to your place and knocking that woman beater down on his ass."

"No Rasheed you'll only make it worse, don't please!" Lynette cried.

"Fine because you asked me not to, but if I find out he does it again he'll be dead"

"He won't" Lynette said. They left for the funeral and the drive was complete silence. Rasheed looked in the rear view mirror and seen his mother begin to tear up. It reminded him of the first time he saw her cry and couldn't imagine her pain. Losing the love of her life not once but twice, first to an institution and now to death. He felt foolish that he was jealous over his sister having more time to know their father. They arrived and family and friends greeted, Rasheed seen his grandmother and held her tight and couldn't let go. He stopped himself from tearing up when he saw the band walking up to him and he couldn't of been happier they made it.

"You guys didn't have to come"

"We wanted to" Francisco said, he then told them he wished he could've had the band when his father was murdered. They took their seats and it began, Rasheed's mom and Lynette both gave speeches and it was Rasheed's turn to speak. Grabbing his guitar from the car he walked up in front of everyone sitting.

"You got this" John said as he passed by him grabbing his shoulder. Rasheed got situated on a stool and leaned towards the microphone.

"I dedicate this to my father Percy. I love you and I know you'll sing along up there" Rasheed announced. He played through beginning to end making sure there was no mess ups. Finishing the song everyone wanted to clap but didn't out of respect. It was time for everyone to take their turns at the casket saying goodbye and then it was over. Everyone was leaving as Rasheed, his family and the band watched the coffin lower into the ground. Rasheed said bye to the band and his grandmother hugging them then got into the car with his mother and sister. They drove back to Rasheed's apartment and his mother began to cry.

"Mama, we're here for you, you'll have us forever no matter what. You'll always have him too" Rasheed comforted his mother.

"Yeah mom you'll always have family" Lynette said hugging her.

"Thank you babies I don't know what I'd do without you two" she said.

"My car is here I can drive Lynette home. Why don't you go home and pop open that wine grandma got you for Christmas" Rasheed said.

"Yeah that sounds good, you should do that Mama. Try to have a relaxing night and call us if you need anything" Lynette added.

"That's not such a bad idea, but it'll probably be two bottles of wine and a bubble bath though" their mom said. "Alright Mama we'll see you later" Rasheed said kissing her on the forehead. Rasheed and Lynette got out of the car and into his -

"let's get you home now sis" Rasheed said. He dropped her off and said "Remember if he touches you again tell me." She hugged him and went inside her house then Rasheed headed to the restaurant. He went to play a show with his band and hoped he'd see Anne there.