Odd Fellow
“My mind doesn’t work right anymore.”
“You are fine, you just have an abnormal fear of ahlzheimers and probaby did too much acid as a kid.”
“No, I don’t remember, people are fading.”
“That’s called age.”
“The other day, my boyfriend asked me, ‘so what’s your funniest story?’ and I’m like I’ve got funny stories, I couldn’t think of why I loved Elijah and Seth so much or why I thought we were all so clever.”
“You were, you all were.”
“Then why don’t I remember? But I remember every detail about you and what you said hte day we met and the day after that and the years to follow.”
“Because, they loved you. You loved me.”
“I loved them”
“But you didn’t worship them.”
“We were each other’s world, in it together, it wasn’t a worship sense and i don’t worship you either.”
“Did you spend as much time wondering about them and your importance to them as you did hoping with me?”
“No.”
“You forget things, see?”
----
Concrete Stare
“Denny fucking Fellows.” The door opens, no light comes in. The cop escorts him to the chair.
Sarah is sitting across the table.
“You know each other right?” The cop waits to see their reaction to the question.
“I don’t fucking know her.” He slinks into his chair and crosses his arms.
“I know who he is, I don’t know him.” The cop takes notes. “My friend Sienna’s cousin had a baby with him when we were younger, heard he went to jail. Never met him in person, only in passing.” She thinks back to the many times they were in the same room, laughing, sharing stories that would bury them both - high as a kite, he’d once said “Dude, we’re like FRIENDS, ya know the TV show, but like the bad bad version…” and at the time it was uproariously funny, now it was getting less comedic.
Denny was smooth, Sarah knew that when he’d been in prison he’d become a hit man for the Arain Broterhood to stay alive, he could be cold and calculating, dumb and good lookingly charming or sharp and trustworthy when needed. She remembered him walking into the Lost and Found when she was sitting with her abusive boyfriend who would have crushed her skull for looking at him twice, he slid passed her with such a slight nod that acknowledged he knew but showed he’d never even seen her in his life, just like now.
“You two run in the same circles. My research shows that you are both tied to this Elijah Viramontes and Seth Tsiran. You two just happen to run with all the top dogs of the Westside and don’t know each other?”
“There are thirteen million people in Los Angeles, I forget a face before they say their name.” Says Denny.
The cop says, “he’s an odd fellow…” the room chuckles.
“I find that hard to believe Ms. Peirson, you are a Marketing Director for a political mogul in Santa Monica. You know all the right names and people.”
---
Flash
---
Gangster shoots into a crowd...
Sarah is woken up by a pounding at her front door she stumbles out of her bedroom, walks across the living room and unlathes the door. It’s Elijah.
“I thought you were coming over hours ago.” She mumbles.
He walks in, broken up. Cuts on his face.
“I drove my truck into a ditch. I fell asleep, I just missed a DUI.”
“Did you bring my shit?” She says bored with his desire for heroin addiction empathy. He tosses it onto her coffee table.
“Sarah, I fucked up. I was sober, I swear to God, I was sober.”
“Until tonight.” She says dryly.
“I shot someone. I was with Seth. He told me to shoot this guy, you know for him.” He begins crying uncontrollably.
“To prove you were man enough to shoot someone or to prove that you weren’t man enough to be your own man?” She replies and he weeps like she has never seen him cry or any man. “Did you make your mark?”
He sobs and shrugs.
“You pulled the classic I shot into the crowd and don’t know if I got him before we fled the scene?” She lights a cigarette.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Elijah prays to her.
The door has a light tap, she knows that sound, her light was on, Seth must have been cabbing it home and seen her light on. She opens the door.
“What did you do? What did you do?!” She hits Seth in the chest with her finger. He knew the minute he came over he was coming for the confession booth relief and she resented them both.
“Can I leave the gun here?”
“No.” She says firmly. “I don’t keep your drugs and I don’t keep your weapons, I’ll keep your cash and you know I”m the only one in town who is trustworthy enough - but I will not keep your blood.”
“Okay. I had to. I had to.” Seth says as if he was so threatened by another person he just had to kill them behind Jax Pub.
“Is he dead?” Sarah asked.
“You know who it was? You know right?” Seth says, puts his hand to his chin with a vacant grin as if she can fill in all the blanks to his vague reasoning.
“No. I don’t, I don’t care either. I don’t want to know, the less I know the better Mr. Professional. I told you that Elijah wasn’t meant for this business, he was good - he was good! You egotistical piece of shit, where’s your Roman Catholicism now? Only virtuous when it comes to your dead kid?”
“That’s not fair, you know that’s why I’m not okay - I had a baby in the womb and he died. You know I don’t have anyone over anymore because there’s still a crib in the second bedroom.”
“Well, like father, like son, neither of you seem to have reached manhood.” She regretted it as soon as she said it but Seth was always able to accept her worst criticism - as if he counted on it to keep him from his own chaotic logic, her harsh words and brutal truth would stop him in his tracks - many times, saving lives or stopping his sycophants from thinking there was a lustre to this underworld. When his homies would ask her who the fuck she thought she was talking to him like that - he would Darth Vader them to the wall and tell them to shut up and never speak like that again to her; ‘new members’ he’d shrug to her and an understanding was formed after a moment like that; no one ever questioned her again and they protected her like she was Mother Teresa when called upon or in her presence. It was her position as a conduit between Vneice and West LA that made her a virginal idol but it was their protection that kept her from the mortality of her personal demons.
The lights dimmed.
----
Everyone wants to be a Gangster...
The truck was an issue.
It was part of a drug deal gone bad where Elijah had jacked a niave kid who thought he was untouchable when it came to paying debt on his coke habit. Elijah had grown as a dealer and his ego required saving face - there were no more periods of waiting time, it was Good Fellas Fuck you Pay me from there on out.
Sarah was not a criminal. She by all means protected her privacy, held her dignity and was the only person who had a career in the corporate industry among them. When men would approach her with sultry offers, she would demure, “I am sorry, I don’t have meaningless affairs, I have a political career to think of.”
When she had a party and vice gang members were in teh same room they realized that if she allowed this to happen, it was safe and often networking occurred and created larger trafficking for the Westside. She could vouch and be trusted at her word and the only person who ever put her on the spot was Elijah - often using her reputation for his own gain and out of guilt producing the results that would keep her from losing face.
She’d sat in counterfeiting connections with duffle bags and sweating addicts who would be shot and jacked when turnign the corner. She was actually requested by the Asian druglord who lived across the street from the WLA Police Department when conducting large sales because she calmed a room and he didn’t understand why she was so respected - trying to find the one sale(sman) who would betray her, no one ever did. She was known to know how to fix any situation, to be consulted with for legal advice and trusted to hold secrets, money like a consolere of mobsters or Den Mother to Gangsters. She was the one who pointed out the valuable points that most of her comrades would respond to with “I never thought of that…”
People regarded her as untouchable, in every way. Was she Elijahs girl? Doesn’t she hang out with Seth? No one knew too much about her, but everyone knew her and whether they liked it or not, they always crossed through her centrality for better or worse.
“Did you drive away in the truck?” She asked.
“Yes.” Elijah said wringing his hands.
“Is it registered in your name?”
“No.”
“Let’s park it.” Sarah’s parents were landlords to several properties. She had copies of keys to various empty garages in Mar Vista. Elijah put out his cigarette. Seth nodded, made a phone call from her kitchen. White Boy Smith was there in minutes and the guys drove to the garage and parked the truck until she could make a phone call to tow the car with Jamaica Beau to take it to Great Gil’s on Abbott Kinney who would then dismantle and sell off parts and send it to the junk yard in San Bernardino.
The kid that had been indebted to Elijah was back in Ohio after a failed acting career and worse one as a short lived drug dealer out of Hollywood. Hollywood has community except for the dead and homeless. No one protects each other there - too many people coming and going down - no one is rael and everyone acts like they care. After Elijah beat him to a pulp for thinking he’d gotten one over on him, he took his pink slip and Chevy truck. The kid left town and never looked back.
Sarah called big Gil at 7am. “Hey Gil, my friend has a truck that he drove into a ditch. He’s got a warrant and is afraid he might get popped. Do you mind if I sell it to you as a payment on my past due bills?”
“I don’t like this kind of business. This is Venice, people look for this kind of stuff, sweetheart and I can’t look in your Mama’s eyes and tell her you came by and paid me with another junker.”
“It’s not a junker, it’s got damage - it’s a popular model. People need parts, it’s a good deal.”
“Bring it by noon.” Big Gil hung up on her.
---
I'm talkin' 'bout a girl that looks quite like you
She didn't have the time to wait in the queue
She cried away her life since she fell off the cradle
Sarah receives a notification that Eljiah has appointed her as his exectuor and legacy contact.
The same day she gets a random call from Devin Loyes that goes to voicemail, but all his calls are random.
It’s the day that Eddie died, Drake has posted a broadcast message memorializing the time 7:24 PM when Eddie’s motorcycle hit the concrete wall on the exit by Slauson before Sepulveda, Northbound. His brother rings in her head, “I just picked my brother’s leather jacket off the blockade where he broke his neck.” Sobbing.
Everything changed that day.
Sarah got the first phone call. She thought Linda was pulling a prank but when she suggested it to her, Linda lost all control and screamed at her. She had to call everyone.
First, she called Seth. “No, no fucking way. You don’t call me and tell me this.” He hung up.
She found Elijah after a few passes through his loser heroin den friends, someone pased him a phone. “Nah. Not Eddie. Sorry Peirson, no.” He hung up on her.
She called Drake, “I know. I’m with his brother now and Lane will be here this week.”
The list went on and she called and called, like a telemarketer of death, no one buying and all hang ups.
Everyone met at Diablo’s, Eddie’s best friend. A polar opposite, where Eddie was modest - Diablo was bold. Where Eddie was a gentleman, Diablo was desperate and rude. Like Clint Eastwood with a counterpart in the Good the Bad and the Ugly and for whatever reason, Sarah felt like she needed to be near the closest person to Eddie over those who vied to be remembered as his best friend. She knew Eddie professionally, as a close friend, someone she admired deeply and like her he seemed untouchable - but he trusted her and when Elijah would vanish he would call her to find him and when he was in need of being bailed out seh would call Eddie crying and for whatever reason, no one in their crew of misfits ever wanted to disappointed Eddie.
And then one night, Eddie invited Sarah and Elijah over to his newly purchased house. He was grinding something, with equitable care. Coffee? Elijah and SArah could not have been more green about the situation for all their experience in the drug world.
“I need you guys to test something out and tell me wha you think and then i need you to connect me with your best people.”
They knew the phrases and the concept of what Eddie was asking but they laughed at the thought that Eddie was giving them cocaine to try and asking them for their connections. Disappointment and excitement left a strange film over the room and CD case that housed the drugs.
“It’s too cut.” Sarah said before trying.
“Where did you get this shit?”
“Why, I have a lot of it, it’s not like Peruvian?” He asked, wave of hand out as if he would never have been scammed. They laughed at him.
“What is this guy, a fucking drug dealer?” They laughed again but Eddie was serious, he wanted in. And he was Eddie. So, of course, fucking of course. Right?
--
Snowglobe
“My three favorite girls.” Eddie picked up the snowglobe and turned it over, the dots floating over a picture of the trio - Sienna, Linda, and Sarah at a Christmas gala.
“How much?” he asked Sarah.
“It’s mine, you can’t have it.”
“It’s sentimental to me, I want it. I’ll give you anything you want - you three girls are my favorite people in life - I want this - money?” He pulled out his wallet, she shook her head.
“I would need something sentimental in return - l.ike your ring.” It aws a nice silver band he often fingered when talking.
“Sarah, that’s not right!’ Sienna scolded her.
“What do you know about right? I want something I can keep forever of him and he can keep forever of us.”
He slipped the band on her finger and kissed her hand. She melted. Sienna seemed offended. Linda was unmoved
---
Silver Sentiment
When Eddie died and Sarah called Sienna she blurted out over the phone, “that ring should be mine, he loved me more than you. He wanted me.”
Sarah was offended but knew in that moment why Sienna was always in such disdain over her trade for the photo of the three of them. The reality was that he had a huge crush on Sienna, who did not feel the same.
Linda had been his loyal secretary and friend, whom he loved deeply and respected. Sarah had been an equal, they could discuss the most complex corporate matters to the most mundane comments in passing over their ignorant friends they held dearly and watched over and because of their political careers - unlike Sienna nad Linda, they never consummate more than a flirtatious lighting of Sarah’s cigarettes through his favoritism at their office of employment and the honor of appointing her to the board of directors as secretary of the company that he formed with her and Linda’s help just before his demise.
----
Sharks patrol these waters
Sharks patrol these waters
Don't let your fingers dangle in the water
And don't you worry about the dayglow orange life preserver
It won't save you
It won't save you
Swim for the shores just as fast as your able
Swim like a motherfucker, swim!
“So there’s Denny his girlfriend, and Elijah at that Ramada on big Washington by the old Black Whale…” Grifter takes a drag off his clove, sets it down slowly telling Sarah the pockets of the story she seems to be in but never makes a personal cameo.
“Denny’s girlfriend, Amanda figure this is the time to call the cops and squash Denny’s warrant because you know, they have the money even though he skipped out on bail a week before. She calls from the motel phone so they don’t trace it back to their cell phones. She calls Aladdin bail bonds and tells them she can pay cash and meet them in the morning.” Another drag, Sarah is on edge to hear the rest of the story that came to her in a drug washed out dream from Eljah omitting all details.
“Within minutes, black SUVs turn up at the hotel and Elijah was fast enough to grab all the cash and jump into the pool - the cops are so busy arresting Denny they aren’t looking for Elijah and when he gets out of the pool he walks down to Venice and hits up some friend who lives on the Canals who gave him a night stay but said that’s the end of us, bro. Know him?”
“That’s Ben and he’s solid - not in any of it.”
“How come my guy knew who he was?”
“Because whoever your guy is - he knows Ben and Ben knows you.”
“He was our landlord in Venice on Westminster and he is a realtor - white guy, older than me younger than you. He smoked pot and cussed us out for being late on rent - he liked us a lot and would have us over for barbecues, eventually I think we were too strung out for his renovated venice canal friends and Ben would be the place to go in an emergency nearby”
“Fair enough.”
“So, the story about him swimming in the ocean, losing the money out of his pockets into the water and swimming along shore for miles - like a dolphin in a dream sequence wasn’t how he escaped and met up with Droopy in Santa Monica, sore arms, lost fortune and lucky to have gotten out alive?”
“Sounds true to me. Sounds like everyone involved in this heist has reached their ultimate demise but you and Elijah. But I think i Have this figured out. See, you’re never in any of the circles with the major players fingered at the event, you’ve got an air tight alibi but the crew leader said he took your share and said the funniest part aws you were the mastermind...but you couldn’t possibly be, could you? And you, like Kevin Spacey are crippled, walking away with an emotional limp, I know you’re Kaiser Soce!”
She laughed and thanked him for such a delusion of grandeur compliment.
----
Comments
Post a Comment