I remember once, when he was fourteen, Dobby terrorized these four older kids who were throwing stones at a stray cat. He grabbed some metal trash can lids and hurled them at those kids, all the while screaming “This is how big a stone feels to a cat, assholes!” When they scattered, he gathered that cat into his arms and became a different person, tender and patient. “You’re all right now, you’re safe,” he whispered.

No one in my little world acted like that. How I looked up to him! He was only two years my senior, but at that age, two years defines the leader and the follower. He would greet me with a wink and an exaggerated “What’s uppp, Ben-ji?” It always brought a smile to my face, a sense that I was connected to someone who would rise above our poor little neighborhood. We were just kids back then. But I idolized him. And those you idolize as a child can hold sway over you years later, even when you should know better.

* * *

“These people are pigs, Benji,” Dobby said, when he first read about the Galaxy voyage in a newspaper. I was scrambling eggs in the Boston apartment we’d been sharing since he’d showed up broke and drunk and singing “Bella Ciao” in my doorway. I had not seen him in several years. The hair at his temples had turned gray.

“They think they can gather like lords of the planet, decide what’s good for the rest of us.”

“Yes, well,” I said.

“I can’t believe you’re working this clown show.”

“It’s Jason Lambert’s boat. I work on it. What am I supposed to do?”

“Aren’t you disgusted by that guy? He says he wants to change the world. But look at how he treats you.”

“Yes, cousin,” I sighed.

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

I looked up.

“What are you talking about?”

“I have a friend . . .” His voice trailed off. He grabbed the newspaper again, found a paragraph, and read it silently. Then he looked me straight in the eye. His expression was dead calm.

“Benji,” he said, “do you trust me?”

“Yes, cousin.”

He grinned. “Then we’re going to change the world.”

That’s how it began.

* * *

Dobby’s “friend” was a road manager for rock bands, including Fashion X, which was slated to perform on the Galaxy Friday night. Over the years, Dobby had worked as a road crew member with different acts. It was how he earned what little money he had. He was good with musical equipment, and he liked the travel, the action, the fast setups and breakdowns.