Billy Bradley’s Sad Song

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

Once a while back, maybe three months ago, Peter Paul Markin was reading a short story by Nelson Algren, a bottle of milk for mother, about the hard case demise of a young 1950s Chicago jack-roller named Disek, Cisek, or Bisek, some Polish name, who stepped over the line, his professional jack-roller line, and murdered his mark who after he faced the police grilling and was alone in his cell he thought, given his tough life’s circumstances, “well I didn’t expect to make twenty-one anyway,” or words to that effect as he faced the big step off . That got Peter Paul to thinking about a guy, a corner boy guy he knew back in the day, back in the old Adamsville projects days of his stormy youth, Billy Bradley, William James Bradley when the teacher called his name, and about how one night in the summer between the sixth and seventh grade, just before junior high school, when they had committed some petty larceny (they called it “clipping” then, grabbing stuff, jewelry, rings mainly, from stores and walking out with it) that he didn’t expect to make it to twenty-one either. And as it turned out he just barely made twenty-two when they found him that time face down in Sonora down Mexico way when a big drug deal Billy was trying to put together went wrong, went very wrong and he wound up with two slugs in his head.

The substance of Billy point and Peter Paul really couldn’t argue with him on it was that the deck was stacked against guys like him and Peter Paul. Guys coming from poor families up against it from day one whether it was struggling for the rent money and usually being late on that, or some broken down old car that either didn’t work or was in desperate need of repairs, or having to decide whether this week the family would have chicken or peanut butter. Stuff like that day in and day out wore on a person. He said he was through with that it was not for him. He was either going uptown or he was going busted, No in between. Nada. And if things didn’t work out he said he would at least have lived the righteous life not like his people who were clueless about how to get ahead in this wicked old world. He said more stuff too, stuff like how he wouldn’t let the cops take him alive if it came to that but Peter Paul took that as so much hot air then because things at that moment didn’t look as hopeless as they would become.

Peter Paul, having moved on from Billy’s world a few years after that conversation once he finally decided that crime, doing and paying for crime, was just too much effort against reading books and stuff, had nevertheless followed Billy’s doings for a while and then as they got older, maybe out of high school older he lost all contact until he heard the news, heard it from his mother who heard it through an old projects friend. So, no, he did not know the details of Billy’s demise but when he heard the news he immediately thought back to that summer night and how Billy, all twelve- years old of him, had a pretty good sense that his time was not long. And that got Peter Paul to thinking further that maybe there were some tell-tale signs along the way that would have pointed directly to Billy’s fate.

So Peter Paul spent the better part of a couple of hours thinking about how the fates had dealt Billy a tough hand. He thought back, way back to the early grades in school since they had lived in the same tenement block, were in the same grade, and had the same teachers, but nothing stood out until he thought about Billy’s reaction to the time that he lost the local talent show to a trio of doo wop sisters (literally) who went on to some regional fame during those heady late 1950s days when girl doo wop groups were sweeping all before them in the roll and rock night. Billy did not take it well, not at all, he thought the fix was in, thought the sisters probably gave the promoter a little something on the side, or the promise of it and he was out, out of his career as the next Elvis. As he thought about the details of that contest, since he was in the audience for the performances, Peter Paul could see where that event was a turning point for Billy.

Billy really was a good singing, really had some what would later be called charisma, could do some nice covers of the latest guy hits, Elvis, Roy Orbison, Chuck Berry, at the various church and school sock hops that drove the teen and pre-teen social calendar. And he was a good- looking guy too and the local pre-teen girls would get all moony over him while he was singing. So Billy figured, and Peter Paul figured right along with him, that he was a shoo-in to win that local talent contest sponsored by a radio station in Boston, WMEX, which was giving a record audition as the prize. Yah, Billy wanted that bad to get under from under the low-rent projects, get out from under his ever nagging mother, and out from under his mostly absent father who when around decided that Billy was his punching bag, until Billy got big enough to fend for himself. And Peter Paul thought he did a great job on Elvis’ One Night With You, had all the pre-teen girls, and few older ones too, high school girls, all moony as usual. But that time that late 1958 time was the time of doo wop and not of solo performers singing their hearts out.

Billy said it was all right, said he would get out from under somehow, said he would get the gold the next time but in that twelve-year old night something snapped, snapped hard in Billy’s estimation of the world. Peter Paul, at that point Billy’s best friend, saw it, and saw that he kind of drifted away from his musical interests and started getting into clipping stuff. With Peter Pau right there with him, for a while, until they got caught at a jewelry store one day and that led Peter Paul the other way. After a while their paths met only occasionally when Peter Paul would amble back to the old neighborhood and they would cut up old torches. Then Billy dropped out of school and Peter Paul kept hearing about gas station robberies and maybe a variety store once in a while that had Billy’s signature all over it.

The last serious talk that Peter Paul had with Billy was just before he graduated from high school when Billy called up his mother’s house to offer congratulations and Peter Paul happened to be there. They talked for about an hour, talked about this and that, about Peter Paul going to college and about Billy moving up to Boston to move a little more into the big time, big time dope dealing as it turned out. Billy said not more low- rent stick-ups for him drugs were where the money, the easy money, was and he was going for the gold. He said it in such a way, or Peter Paul took it that way, that this was an either up or out situation. Then he didn’t heard from Billy much after that and then not at all as he got deeper into the trade. And then the other show dropped down in Mexico. Peter Paul finished up his thinking this way-some guys do all their living in the front end and that is the way the deal went down with Billy. Still he thought, thought long and hard, Billy had a lot more than twenty-two in him.