Straight Life - Art Pepper [204]
We were really juicing at this time. We were drinking from the minute we woke up in the morning until we fell out at night. This one night all of a sudden I woke up and there were Christine's eyes in front of mine. I was lying on my back, and I felt a stinging in the side of my neck, and the first thing I heard was "You lousy, stinking motherfucker! I'll kill you, you bastard, you cocksucking motherfucker!" I said, "What's wrong? What are you doing? What are you, crazy?" And she shouted, "Don't say that to me, you bastard! I'm not crazy, you motherfucker! I'll kill you, you bastard!" She was straddling my stomach, she had her left hand around my throat, and she was very strong for a girl. In her right hand she had a knife she always carried with her, a pushbutton knife with a six-inch blade: it was stuck into the side of my neck. Her eyes were just crazy. I don't know how long she'd been sitting there looking at me like that. She yelled, "You son-of-a-bitch! I know you! You've been out balling chicks! You've been out fixing! You don't want me! You're trying to get away from me, you son-of-abitch! I'll kill you first, you bastard! You can't use me and throw me aside! I'll kill you!" I said, "I haven't been doing anything! I haven't been out with any chicks!" She kept glaring at me and cussing me out, and I was afraid of her, she was so insane.
She tightened her hold on my neck and stuck the knife into my throat. I could feet it piercing my skin. With that I smashed my arms out, hit her in the face, grabbed her by the throat, and threw her off me. She came lunging at me, and I grabbed her arm and got the knife out of her hand. I held her and I said, "Boy, what's wrong with you? Are you insane? This is too fuckin' much!" She said, "I'll kill you, you son-of-a-bitch, if you keep messing with me like that! You're not going to go out with any other chicks after all I've done for you, you bastard!" I said, "I'm not going out with any other chicks! I don't want any other chicks! Would you act like a human being?" Then she got emotional. She started crying: "You don't love me! You don't care for me! You don't like the way I sing! All you want to do is take my money! I've done everything for you! You wouldn't have a horn if it wasn't for me." I kept telling her, "I do love you. Everything's cool. Your singing's alright, man. I appreciate everything."
This went on and on. Sometimes she'd be painting. I'd go for a walk and be gone for a while and come back and she'd wig out and punch me in the stomach or the ribs. The thing with the knife-she did that two or three times. I was afraid to do anything to her because I was afraid to get started on a woman. I was afraid I'd kill her or any of them if I ever got started on them.
After I got everything straightened out with the parole department, we moved back to Hollywood. Finally I got a call one day. It was a trombone player-I forget his name. He asked me what I was doing and I told him I was just blowing around town. He asked how would I like to take a gig with a big band. I said, "Whose band?" "Buddy Rich." He said, "We need a lead alto." I told him, "I haven't been playing alto. I don't even own an alto." But he said, "We can get you one. I think Don Menza, who plays tenor in the band, has an alto. Maybe he'll let you use his till you can get one of your own." I said, "I don't know if I can play after