Please Don't Make Me Beg

My jaw had come unhinged, leaving me looking like some kind of goofy fish. All I could think was, I can't do this! I'm responsible! I'm a mom, for chrissakes!

How did the phone get into my hand? I put it to my ear, and could hear ringing--who had I called?

Andi's voice was cracking with laughter. "Hi Mom! What's up? It's not curfew yet, you know!"

"I know, calm down. Or...no, don't calm down. Be excited for me!" My mind was racing, trying to decide even as I spoke to her what I was going to say.

"What--?"

"You will never, ever believe what just happened to me. Not in a million years"

"You met Billie Joe," she offered, sounding snarky.

"Damn it, how do you do that? I'm supposed to be the one with intuition!"

"Oh, God, Mom, are you kidding? You really met him? How?"

I told her the short version, but for some reason, I didn't share what I'd seen between him and Adie. I don't know, somehow it just seemed like it would be...rude.

"Listen, you have your key, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but...why?"

"I don't know. He--he invited me to the bus to meet the other guys, and"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?? Evan, you can't believe this--my MOM..."

My phone hand drooped, but I could still hear her shrieking to the guys. I could only imagine what they were saying--they loved to give me unbridled grief.

"Andi. Andi? ANDI!" I finally yelled.

"Oh gosh, sorry--what?" she panted. Evan and Dan were yelling something--probably insulting--in the background.

"Look, I really would like to meet Mike and Tre and Jason, so I'll probably be a little late getting home. Or maybe not, I don't know."

"Mom, you sound totally stupid right now!" I could tell she was grinning.

"Yeah, I figured. Thanks for the support, buddy,"

"Well, is it okay if Evan comes in for a little while when they drop me off? His car is there so he can drive himself home"

"Okay. But--well, you know the ground rules."

"I do, and I will, and I won't. You know him better than that!"

"Yes, and I know you, too, wise guy! Just behave yourself"

"You know it. Good luck, Mom. Have fun, okay? Oh, and---behave yourself!"

"You know it, kiddo. I love ya!"

Which bus was his, I wondered? They were all huge, sleek, and black, and I didn't see any of the security guys around. How does this work--do you just go up to the door and knock?

As I was squinting up into one of the windows, trying to see a face inside, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped a little, and turned to look up into Tall Guy's grinning face.

"Looking for anyone?" he asked.

"Well, I know how this must look, but I was invited"

"Don't worry--he sent me to make sure you didn't steal any of the instruments," he chuckled kindly.

"What--?" My face burned as I realized how dumb I sounded. "I'm so too old to be doing this," I laughed. "You're used to seeing girls half my age, aren't you?"

"You know, everybody seems to think these buses are like orgies on wheels," he said as I followed him across the parking lot. "But if you think about it, these guys just finished two hours of intense workout, and they really just want to sleep. They are human, after all. Well, except for Tre...," and we both cracked up.

"Well, here we are," he said, motioning to the open bus door. "By the way, I'm Dave."

"Thanks, Dave," I nodded, returning his hand in a high-five. "You take it easy, okay?"

"No worries there. Good night."

I took a deep breath and grabbed the handrail.

My knees were shaking as I climbed the steps, but no one seemed to be there to notice.
"Hello?..." I called softly. "Anyone home?" Faint music drifted up from down the hall, and I could hear footsteps and a door opening.

His hair was a mass of wet black spikes, and though he had a Groovy Ghoulies tee shirt in his hand, for the moment he was breathtakingly shirtless.

"Oh, sorry, you caught me changing clothes--hang on a second." He slipped the worn green tee over his head, but not before I had a chance to see more of his many tattoos. Both his shoulders and part of his chest were covered by tats I'd never seen before--his classic blue car, a skull, several others. They were amazing, but what really caught my attention was the sight of his body, tight with muscles and glistening with a sheen of sweat. He noticed my gaze and grinned.

"Mike calls me 'the Illustrated Man.' Do tattoos bother you?"

"Not at all. Actually, I just got my first one last summer. Nothing like those beauties, though."

He looked amused. "Really? Anywhere you care to show?" Again, with the blushing. I was beyond nervous.

"Sure, just my bicep." I rolled up my sleeve to show him the heart grenade, with "Rage and Love" in script below it. "It's not the most original design, but it's me, on so many levels."

"Nice choice, if I do say so myself. Hey, care for some wine? I was just going to have some so I could unwind a little."

"That would actually be really nice, thanks."

He turned and began to uncork and pour a beautiful, ruby Merlot, and I tried to think of something, anything, to say. Before my mouth could start working again, he held out the glass, smiling, and said, "Here's to old friends, and meeting them for the first time. I'm Billie Joe. And you are...?"

"My name's Lisette. But all my friends just call me Li."

"Well, since we're friends now, Li it is." He drank deeply from his glass, as if he were in a hurry to finish, but his eyes looked steadily at me, almost amused. "So, Li, did you get permission to stay out late?" He looked at me sternly, like a scolding dad, but his mouth turned up at the corners in a sarcastic half-smile. "And with boys?" he added.

"Yes, I think I've got it covered. My daughter says I'll just have to do extra chores or something," I smirked. God, he was so charming. I'd have been trembling like a leaf, but the wine seemed to steady my nerves a bit.

Suddenly I heard voices coming from outside the bus, and the door slammed open to laughter and the sound of an air horn. Billie motioned toward the front, and I recognized Mike and Tre bounding down the aisle, pounding on each other.

"You assholes!" Billie shouted. "I can't take you anywhere! Look at you!"

Mike's sideburns were covered with green Silly String, and it connected under his chin to leave a ridiculous beard swinging against his chest. Tre, partially hidden by a huge pink hat with a plume bobbing madly, was cackling maniacally, a can in each hand, and turning to Mike with a menacing look, he pointed the nozzles at the bassist's chest.

"You need bigger boobs, dude!" he giggled.

"Spray that shit on me and die, you moron!" Mike shouted. "I'm gonna shove your head so far down you throat you'll be able to watch me kick your ass!" He brandished the air horn dangerously.

"Children, children," Billie warned. "Do I have to put you in time out again?" I looked back at him, and saw a pair of handcuffs dangling from his finger. His eyes glared out from lowered brows, making him look almost evil. I felt a shiver run down my spine...

"Not fair, Billie. Tre just enjoys it!" Mike complained.

"Your punishment doesn't scare me, old man," snickered Tre. "I have nerves of steel, dude, nerves of steel."

"And an ass of candy!" cried Billie, jumping on the drummer's back and smacking his butt like a race horse.

I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee in my pants. "Guys, please tell me there's a bathroom on this bus!" I pleaded.

"Right off the bedroom," Billie shouted, still clinging to Tre's back like a spider monkey.

I hurried back down the hall, hoping to avoid disaster, and as I finished washing my hands, I could still hear them yelling and laughing. How cool, I thought, to have a job that lets you spend time with your best friends every day. These guys are luckier than they'll ever know. As I walked back up, they were disentangling themselves and looking a little sheepish.

"Okay, guys, let's chill--we have company. I'd like you to meet this nice lady and not make her think we're complete idiots," Billie said. "Li, this is my left-hand man and the guy who lays down the bass, Mike Dirnt." Mike waved, with a goofy grin, the air horn behind his back. "And this fool in the pink bonnet is Frank" Tre glared at him. "I mean, Tre Cool, our hyperactive and flamboyant drummer."

"Enchanted," Tre purred, raising my hand to his lips. The feather in the bonnet bobbed preposterously.

"Likewise, I'm sure," I simpered, curtsying. Somehow the wine seemed to be smoothing out all the rough edges, and I was having the time of my life. They seemed like the brothers I'd never had.

"Listen, dudes, I'm wrecked, and all I really want to do right now is have a glass of wine. It was an awesome show, wasn't it?" Billie grinned.

"Yeah, the fans were the best," Mike agreed. "We always say that, but it always seems to be true. Okay, the lunatic and I--" Tre rolled his eyes "are heading off to crash. Right, Frank?"

A shower of Silly String rained down as Tre dashed down the bus steps, disappearing around the front of the next bus. Mike tore after him in hot pursuit.

"Well, looks like we've got the place to ourselves, Li. Make yourself at home anywhere--but I recommend the sofa. Very cushy!"

I was still laughing as I sank into the soft leather. "Wow, you're right--this is heavenly! Bet you nap on this a lot when you're traveling."

"Sometimes. I have trouble sleeping a lot, so I end up reading or playing video games most of the time."

"Too much energy?" I asked.

He was silent for just a moment. "I guess that's it," he said softly. "Could I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything for my new friend."

"What made you say the things you did to me at the autograph signing?"

Uh-oh, I thought. Maybe I got too personal. "Well, I was just thinking how hard it must be to be separated from the ones who love you, and know you, and make you feel special the way strangers can't--even ones who adore you."

"So who makes you feel special?" he asked, his eyes still on the floor.

"My daughter, mostly. And friends."

"No one else?"

"Andi's dad passed away when she was twelve. I stay pretty busy, so there isn't much time to meet people," I shrugged.

"It may sound crazy, but sometimes I feel the same way. I mean, yeah, we meet tons of people on the road, but it seems everyone wants a piece of me, and I just get really panicky when I'm in the middle of a crowd and there's no way out." He lifted his eyes.

"You're one of the first people who actually asked me how I felt in a long time. It was...nice."

"It'll be better when you're home, and your family can smother you in hugs and kisses. Kids are great for that, aren't they?"

"They sure are. God, I miss my boys." His voice was husky. "And I'm just---" he trailed off, taking a drag of his cigarette. I waited for him to finish, watching his hands fumble with his empty glass. "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but in the middle of all the people, and all the excitement, I just feel so...lonely."

Maybe it was the wine, but I felt tears sliding down my cheeks as I covered his hands with mine. Here was the King of Punk, and I was watching his heart break.