Freeway and the Vin Numbers Page 10

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  On my glorious drive to the east side — past the multitude of medical buildings, coffee shops and upscale apartments filled with Brown University students — I wiped my sweaty palms on my blue jeans more than once.

  Then my cell phone buzzed, disturbingly interrupting my love-starved dreams of Saturn and what seductive outfit she might be picking out to wear at that very moment.

  Oh shit. It was Uncle Al on the line. I thought about letting him just leave a message, but I actually felt pretty good about how far the band and I had come in the few weeks since his ultimatum: become a rock legend fast or die a painful, mobster-style death.

  “Hi Uncle Al,” I answered. “How’s it going?”

  “Fabulous Vin,” he said, seemingly in a happy mood. “Your mother tells me she saw your new band play in Providence the other night.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was a great show. She seemed to like us. We found an awesome guitar player named Freeway Wilson. We’re writing a ton of original songs together.”

  “Very glad to hear you listened to me, Vin, and that you’re doing something with your musical talents,” Al said. “This makes your Uncle Al very happy. When is your next show?”

  “Halloween at the Heartbreak again,” I said. “We’re second on the bill that night because it’s a big party and we’re still new, but we still get to play for almost an hour. We’re even starting to make a little money for these gigs, you know, in case you want to collect some of my share.”

  “I’m flying up from Miami the day before so I’ll come see the show,” Uncle Al said, shocking me. “I’ll collect in person.”

  “Great,” I said, already getting nervous about my performance that night.

  “And don’t forget what I told you, Vin,” he added.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “No gambling,” he said.

  “None,” I assured him. “I haven’t bet on any football games.”

  “No games at all, right?” Al said.

  “Zero,” I insisted.

  “Good job, Vin,” he said. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Yeah, see you at the show,” I said, hitting the off button on the cell phone.

  Great. Now my mind was completely distracted heading into what could be one of the best nights of my young life. The light turned from red to green and I just sat there in my truck for a couple of seconds.

  Beep, beep!

  I woke up and slammed on the gas. Screw Uncle Al. It was time for my first planned rendezvous with Saturn.