“That Alonzo stole an armored car along with all’a Donata’s money and hid it in a garage somewhere.”

I knew Fearless would open Lola up. I could never tell if he understood that he was part of the interrogation. But that hardly mattered.

The lights went down and as they did Lola leaned forward to give Fearless a gentle kiss on the lips. I felt a pang of jealousy. It wasn’t that I wanted to kiss Lola but that Fearless was the kind of man who women wanted to taste the moment they saw him.

“Got my tweed pressed,” a man’s amplified voice crooned. I turned as he sang, “Got my best vest.”

I didn’t even know there was going to be a show. Four men were on the small stage: a horn player, drummer, pianist, and Frank Sinatra. The musicians were all black men.

“All I need is the girl,” Sinatra sang, and I was put completely off my game.

He performed six or seven songs, ending with “My Way.” After that he introduced the band, on loan from Duke Ellington, and thanked the club manager, whose name I’ve forgotten.

When the lights came up he walked over to our table and leaned down to kiss Lola.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “Who’re your friends?”

Then he pulled up a chair and joined us!

For ten minutes Frankie and Lola chatted like old pals. They had indeed known each other a long time. Thinking about it, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. They both worked different ends of the same circuit.

When Sinatra got up to go he gave Fearless a quizzical glance.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“You came to LA one time in fifty-nine,” Fearless said. “Your manager talked to my man Milo Sweet, said you needed some black bodyguards.”

“Yeah, you knocked out that big drunk who was jealous that his girl was giving me the eye.”

Fearless shrugged and Frankie shook his hand.

Lola offered to let us sleep at her place after the show. But when I told Fearless that I could sleep in the car he got the message.

Fearless and I pulled off onto a dirt road ten miles outside of town. There I took the front seat and Fearless the back. There were at least a million stars out that night. Every minute or so you could see the trail of another fallen one. Thinking back on it now, I am reminded of the time when the night skies were ruled by distant suns.

I woke up with the sun in my eyes and a crick in my neck. If Fearless felt cramped it didn’t show on his face.

We stopped at a little stand in 29 Palms and had date shakes for breakfast.

Sitting at a redwood table on the outside patio, Fearless said, “Easy, look over there.”