Where are you going? She asked.

Out, he said. Going out for a while. Need to get my bearings straight.

It’s past midnight. One o’clock in the morning. So, I’ll ask again. Where are you going?

I’m just going.

He lights a cigarette. Pulls his hat down over his ears. She watches from the living room window as he marches down the street. He’s already a million miles from home.

Attention all. One last call for alcohol, the barkeep says. Folks raise their hands to get his attention. He walks in and immediately raises his hand, too. 

I see you, Frank. What will it be? 

The usual, he says.

One scotch and soda coming up.

The bartender pours a double in a rocks glass and places it on the bar. Frank pulls out a five and tells him to keep the change.

Thank you, sir.

Frank takes a drink and nods his head. Thank you, he says, and takes another swig.

Frank? Didn’t recognize you at first, Pete tells him. What brings you out at closing time?

Didn’t feel like sleeping,  he says.

No?

Frank shakes his head. No.

Coltrane comes on the jukebox. Naima. Frank starts to cry. He closes his eyes and remembers when he was young. He used to listen to this song all the time. Listened to Love Supreme as well. Way back before she came along, he’d spend his nights taking in Mingus, Monk, Davis, Bill Evans, Cannonball Adderly, he had them all. And then, one day, they were gone. She sold all his jazz albums at her garage sale for a buck a piece.

This is old music anyway, she told him. No one listens to this anymore. Get with the times, Frank, she said.

And, so he did. He got with the times, and he’s been miserable ever since. Sneaking out at night, listening to jazz play on the Old Town jukebox.  Hearing Peggy Lee sing, Is That All There Is? He wept every time.

Time to finish up, the barkeep said. Drink up all you people, he sang. Go home.

But Frank didn’t go home. He just kept walking to Clark Street, where he caught the train and rode all night. He went back and forth across the city. From 95th Street to Howard. He rode till sunset, got off at Belmont, and walked to Harry’s Grill on Halsted. He ate his eggs and Polish sausage with ketchup on hash browns and laughed. Is that all there is? Is that all there is? If that’s all there is my friend then let’s keep dancing….