Books

Keith snickered, chuckled, than gave a good laugh when Luis asked his help finding another place to bunk. Sam probably would have no problem putting the bad boy up.

Only a peck of trouble?” You could count on Luis to never use discretion, especially when he needed to most.

Keith slept fitfully, Butch and Sundance sacked out beside him. He was on a sun-drenched beach. Some woman, he couldn’t quite tell who, lying there with him.

Everybody went straight to the stage — the diner contingent and whoever was in the dressing room — at the stroke of nine pm. Quality control, Helen and Keith agreed, meant you don’t keep the crowd waiting.

But for Sam’s complaining, sound check and rehearsal both went well. After which, they had a couple hours off. He strongly considered calling Lesli. Didn’t do it.

When Lesli said she still loved him, Keith threw in the towel. “I still love you, too.”

Luis’ jaw fell open knowing there could only be one woman in whole world on the other end of that line. He fixed him a drink and fixed one for Keith.

About an hour into their bus ride, barely pulled out on I-95, Keith and Luis were tooling along nicely, kicking back, bending each other’s ear. Had some Richard Pryor on the DVD player, sipping brews, the kittens curled up in a corner grooming one another.

While Carl got the sound levels straight, everyone had a nice time catching up with each other, talking shop, joking around. When time came to hit it, Alena Sheridan’s camera crew materialized out of thin air, on a dime.

He chewed his buddy’s ear off the whole trip from West 72nd St. to the East Side. Bemoaning how things with his woman — no longer his — had again gone to hell in a handbasket.

While they were waiting, Keith, Sam and Luis jammed. Helen and Faith sat back and dug on it, a word between them here and there. At one point, Helen said to her, “These are some playing fools.”

“You can say that again. Are they always like this?”

When Helen told Keith he had his work cut out for him deciding on the set list, he sort of smirked and said, “No I don’t.” Put the pen down and handed her his pad. “There’s your list.”

Faith looked back over the nighttime cityscape. “Sam practically worships Helen. And I can see why.”

Keith finally found his tongue. “Oh, yeah. That woman truly is a piece of work. All the talent in the world and more personality than the law should allow.

When James McGrath Morris set out to write his latest book, he didn’t know how timely it would be. When Eye on the Struggle: Ethel Payne, The First Lady of the Black Press hit shelves, Essence magazine had just released its Black Lives Matter issue.

Helen got Keith off the hook, giving him a half dozen sheets of paper. The set lists from the gigs they were combing through for material to put on the album. He leafed through the pages. “Lot to listen

Keith came out of the movie and, suddenly, was running a little bit late. Called a messenger company and had his purchases dispatched to the apartment. Called Jesse to feed and water Butch and Sundance. Then caught a cab to Electric Ladyland.

Brad Meltzer was born in Brooklyn, which is where Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color line when he joined for the Dodgers in 1947. But that’s not what inspired the best-selling author to write I Am Jackie Robinson. Rather, the father of a daughter and identical twin boys had grown tired of watching his children admire reality TV stars and trash-talking pro athletes as if they were true heroes.

This next time next week, they’d be on the road. Not a bad way to start putting Lesli in his rear view. One thing about touring — no shortage of women who couldn’t wait to knock your boots. Keith would just have to grin and somehow bear it. A big old Kool-Aid smile spread across his face.

Keith shook his head, ruing that there just seemed no getting away from Lesli. There was, though, his ace in the hole. His first distraction from problems was always music. Second choice, a good movie. When all else failed there was, right down the street, the solace of Central Park.

Keith had to shake his head at his friend’s amazing acumen. The man was practically a mind reader. “Lesli left me again.”

Dan eyes widened. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.”