44 Race Street Jack Dirck
In the summer, when the breeze gets warm and the trees shimmer and the sun sets like citrus on the grape mountains and the kids hold out their hearts in the golden ray sunset that saves the city – to take – one more stab – to take it all the way – tonight – in San Jose.
Desperate, broken hearted, bloody but unbowed. The innocent sinners, part-time winners, sidewalk dreamers, girls with no fears and street-talk scientists, get ready, in their cars, their bedrooms, their garages. Only one night, one shot they got to throw it all away, the strain of the lonely teenaged soul singer to be released for one hot summer night.
Baby Janie sits on the curb with her head in her hands watching the little Spanish boys playing down the street. A sugar breeze lifts her soft hair and Baby Janie sighs - she’s waiting; she’s wishing - for the crazy angels to come riding down the Italian avenues and christen this south side night.
Joey swung his greasy ‘vette down the tree line road out by the reservoir on Race Street where the barefoot girl lives, like he did every year when school let out. Joey had his cobra black hair done up all sweet and slick, like his heroes in the movies. The day was gone and honey light split between the mountains. The girl came running, no shoes and with her hair like she had no place to go.
“I’m sorry,” She said, “but you just can’t keep coming around here anymore”.
Joey slid off his shades and said, “Baby, I can’t go anywhere if I can’t come knocking at your door”.
The final street light flickers on, the last jewel cast in the cosmos of orange and white electric galaxies. The night liberates the city – giving permission - and security - from the plain-shirt compromisers of the day. Six-Five Sam and Blaker-B wait on Dodo Bird to finish getting his boots on, they pile in and ride down Camden way up towards 85.
Rock and Roll assaults the streets
Blasting from every spark spitting car radio and bedroom window,
Bands rumble on roof tops – guitars streak between allies like neon flash spirits,
Mexican girls are out smoking on the balcony with their daddy’s Spanish radio,
A saxophone splatters the night while the drummer talks tight with some public school physicists,
Under street lamps move the queer, no fear, heads shaved with long hair cheering for the local purple boot bands,
The boys pull up on Baby Janie and she’s got a look like she doesn’t know why she ever tried holding her heart out tonight. Dodo Bird stuck his bouncy little head out the window and said, “Get in here girlie, we’re going all around”.
The barefoot girl slid Joey in the door with a taste of reserve. She watches him move. There was always something – something about how his chocolate Italian eyes made her chest fall in when he talked like he knew everything, but wouldn’t say it. The anthems of the young, the innocent, and hungry beat distantly on the walls from outside and her heart drummed red blood into her face she let out softly, “You can come up stairs, if you want – but my boyfriend will be back soon so not too long”. Joey grinned, “Girl, you know he’s no good to you anyway”.
Blaker-B turned to Baby Janie in the back seat and she’s still looking like the night is lost, even when Dodo Bird was doing all his best tricks. Blaker-B pulled off and the four spirits fell in line running down Race Street where the funky Marxist gangs danced the sidewalk to rubble. Jazzed up drummers put a rattle in your brain and the Irish kid with the bass does his very best to entertain. Cute girls talked fast and some even got away, sparks lit low in the sky, sometimes catching the prettiest eyes.
Joey looked out the bedroom window and saw Six-Five Sam below. Drums and guitars made the barefoot girl go weak, trumpets called to her like thunder in the heat. That crazy rhythm she just couldn’t beat. Joey got up to leave but she jumped and pushed him back into his seat and with one… long… look… and softly loving hands… she threw off all that kept her shackled to her no-good boyfriend.
Six-Five Sam looked up to the bedroom window, curtains thrown shut and soft light turned out so quick it almost made him sick. Baby Janie danced till she had no more sense. Dodo Bird and Blaker-B howled in to the night because they still can.
And
There
In the heat of her bedroom, Joey and the barefoot girl held each other in the most honest and raw conviction. The curtain waved and the soft summer air blessed them. Two hearts beat and the crazy angels thundered down Race Street with the promise that all the children of San Jose, California, would, one day, take it all the way, one day.