I also remember that Heidi’s oldest sister came home from a date in the middle of that party and she lost her goddamned mind.

I remember playing and watching those two fight. Heidi was drunk off her ass, it was kinda funny, especially with her sister screeching in her face.

And while this was happening, her date was leaning against an archway, arms crossed on his chest, boots at the ankle, watching us play.

I caught a load of him, and he gave me a shiver, man.

I saw why she’d want some of that…but, fuck.

He gave me a shiver, that guy was so intimidating.

It was Preacher.

Preacher McCade.

Heidi’s sister closed shit down. She was a ballbuster, that one was.

But, [laughs] oldest of five hot sisters, dad a cop, she’d have to be a ballbuster.

She could let loose, and I had occasion to be around Preach when he got done with her, so I know she did and she’d have to, to keep her hooks in Preach.

But she wouldn’t let any of her sisters let loose.

It was when me and the guys were loading up our gear. Nicky, Ricky and Tim had gone in to grab more shit, I was stowing my amp. I was in the back of Tim’s dad’s pickup that we used to haul our shit to our gigs.

He’d have to steal it, Tim did. But his dad would be passed-out drunk, so that wasn’t hard.

I heard a thump on the side of the bed and looked down to see a fist had landed there.

I looked and there was Preacher, standing by the side of the truck, looking up at me.

I did not want to be alone with this dude. That was my first thought.

It didn’t get better when he started talking. And I remember every word he said like it wasn’t over thirty fuckin’ years ago.

Like it happened an hour ago.

“Your drummer sucks,” he said.

I didn’t say dick, part because he was flipping my shit, part because I knew he was right.

“Your rhythm guitarist works,” he kept going. “Barely,” he said.

I just stood in the bed of that truck, staring down at this guy, saying nothing.

He didn’t quit with our first rock review.

“Your lead’s alright.”

Yup.

You guessed it.

I still didn’t say dick.

“You’re a rock star, brother.”

That was what he said.

He looked right in my eyes and said, “You’re a rock star, brother.”

My parents fought. They did it loud. But they loved me, you know? Both of them did.

Dad was kind of a wuss, but he was a decent guy. Mom was pushy, but she could be sweet a lot. It wasn’t all roses at my house, but, you know, I had love.

Me and my sisters were tight.