“Yeah, baby-boy,” Willie said slow and matter-of-factly, implying, in his accents, a whole world of essential instruction being overlooked for want of beer and money and mind and other necessities forever beyond Rodney’s reach. “There’s lots. There’s lots and lots.”

“Like what?”

Willie drained his mug. “You know about the big ‘I Remember Rock ’n Roll’ Memorial in Cleveland last week?”

“No.” Rodney was excited. “Who was there?”

“All the cats from the old groups.”

“Anything special happen?”

“Hell yes!” Willie smiled again and looked very pleased with himself. “Fatso Checkers didn’t show. The cats would have tore the place down but Dirty Rivers filled in for him. He made up a song right on stage. Man, the cats dug it, they went wild they dug it so.”

“What’s the song?”

“I donno.”

“Is it on record?”

“Not yet. He just made it up.”

“There’s no place I can check it out?”

Again Willie smiled. “You can follow the other squares and check out this week’s issue of Soul. They might have a piece on it.”

“I don’t have time,” Rodney said. “I’ve got my studies to do.”

“You don’t have to, then; just be cool.”

Rodney got up. “That’s it,” he said to Willie. “I’ll check you out later.” He put two dollars down on the table and turned to go. Willie reached over and picked up the bills. “That’s for the beer,” Rodney cautioned him.

“Sure,” said Willie.

Rodney walked toward the door. “Be cool,” he heard Willie say from behind him. He did not look back. He knew that Willie and possibly the waitress and even the bartender would be smiling.

Although he felt uncomfortable in that area of the city, Rodney decided to walk around and digest all that he had been told before driving back to the University. He had parked and locked his car on a small side street and felt relatively protected from the rows and rows of aimless men who lined the stoops of houses and posts and garbage cans on either side of the street, their eyes seemingly shifty, their faces dishonest, their broad black noses alert and sniffing, feeling the air for the source of the smell which Rodney half believed rose from the watch and the wallet and the valuables stored in his pocket. He walked faster. He felt their eyes on his back and he was very uncomfortable being there, in the rising heat from the sidewalk, amid the smells of old food and wine and urine which rose with the heat.