Lollipop

By Michael Gleich

When I went looking for property with my friend Bill Stanton, I wasn’t looking for murder. Silver Lake, an area near downtown Los Angeles, where the Santa Monica Mountains ebbs into the city, brought me just that.

“Prime real estate,” he said, “Just wait, you’ll see,” Bill said.

I saw a row of boarded up, run down, dirt bins where whores, hustlers and drunks paraded in front. Not my idea of prime real estate but the price I paid for it still left me with money, if the adventure went belly up.

Mom’s Place sat on the corner of Hoover and 3^rd. A brown brick building built in the Thirties with large windows in front and smaller windows that faced Hoover. I bought the building after my friend, Bill told me about it.

Downtown Los Angeles lay less then five minutes away, where office cube workers toiled and churned software into reports. The eclectic homes behind Mom’s Place housed Hispanic families and blue-collar gays. Gentrification hit Silver Lake like a tidal wave. Gays bought the old homes leaning against cliffs and tucked into cubbyholes, fixed them, painted them, and sold them to buy another.

Most of Silver Lake is working class, not the kind of folks that take to cologne wearing yuppies. I wanted to hire people that lived there, knew the people. So, a sign went up after I cleaned the place and had the bar just about ready for business. Right in the front window, ‘Now Hiring’. It didn’t take long either.

“You hirin?” A man stood at the doorway, like a freight train coming down the tracks. Sunlight tried to squeeze around him with little success.

“Yeah. I need a bartender.” He looked like a bartender and bouncer in one very big package.

“I can do that,” he said with a slow baritone drawl that came from deep inside him.

“You drink?” I asked.

“No sir, not no more.” He kept his head up but stayed right at the doorway.

“Been arrested?”

“Yes sir, I have.” His voice, slow and even, the voice of an honest man.

“What’s the worse thing on your rap sheet?” I asked, while walking to him from the bar top I just finished installing.

“Indecent exposure. Three times.” He still didn’t move, but kept his hands on a brown flimsy pork-pie hat he held in front of him.

I looked at the face of a man who lived a hard life for a long time and said, “You a weenie wagger?”

“No sir, I just needed to pee was all.”

I heard someone behind him, moving around. “Who’s your friend?”

“He’s Johnny Reno, sir.” He stepped aside and there stood a scrawny little man no more than hundred pounds. A bent nose with ears so big they looked like they flapped.

“Are you looking for a job too?” I asked

“Yes sir, I know how to work a bar. My family had one back in Kerrville. I was raised on a bar room floor, that’s what I tell people.”  He smiled, cocked his head to one side and winked.

“You still drinking and doing drugs.”

“Not anymore, clean and sober since I found my bud here, Merry Tee.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t take your tips; you don’t take from the till. Treat the customer with respect and keep the drug pushers out. You get ten dollars an hour to start, how’s that sound?”

“We get ten dollars a piece?” Merry asked.

“That’s right, you two aren’t joined at the hip are you?”

“No sir, we’re not. When do we start?”

“Well I need help now, once we get the bar finished, and the sign up, then you’ll be bartenders. How’s that?”

“That’s fine with us.”  Merry unclenched his hat and held his hand out engulfing mine. It reminded me of a bass taking bait.

            We all worked hard and Mom’s Place opened with a big hit. We had a couch and a couple of overstuffed chairs in front, where customers could sit, and a pool table on the right, and pinball machines in the back near the restrooms. The oak bar wrapped around on one side. Lots of wood, stained glass and brass against the bare brown bricks, gave Mom’s Place a real look.  Merry and Johnny worked together like well oiled pistons. They had the night shift and I hired some of the local hustlers for weekend barkeeps. I worked the days. Things went pretty well for a beer and wine bar. Not only did we get the local crowd, we became a trendy stop with the office workers. If you wanted a slice of Los Angeles, Moms Place filled the plate.

One day, while I tallied the books and waited on a couple of locals a real pretty boy came in carrying a suitcase. He wore white pants and a light blue dress shirt. You don’t see that kind of outfit in a thousand miles from here.

“What can I get you?” I asked.

“Is your name Chad?” he asked.

“It is and you?”

“Lars, I am supposed to meet a friend of yours, Bill Stanton.”

“Well Bill isn’t here right now, would you like something while waiting?”

He looked around and then said, “How much for a glass of wine?”

“Tell you what, you’re a friend of Bill’s, I’ll make the first one free. Red or White?”

“Red or white what?”

“Wine.” I could tell this kid just got off the bus from a cornfield in Nebraska.

His face flushed and a smile appeared that could sell toothpaste. “Oh—uh, I’ll have red.”

“How do you know Bill?” I asked, as I poured the house red.

“We’re pen pals. We met corresponding. I told him I would be down this way and he asked me to meet him.” The kid couldn’t look me in the eye while talking.

“That a fact. I didn’t know Bill knew how to write?”

“Oh, he writes beautiful letters.”

“I’m sure he does, why don’t you have a seat, Bill is probably running late.” I hoped Bill wasn’t planning to sell this kid a bridge.

A while later, Bill walked in and looked around. Without saying a word to me, he went right over to Lars and gave him a bear hug and a kiss. Lars turned three shades of red while looking around to see who was watching. We were all watching and with big smiles too. Bill kept his arm around the kid and brought him over to the bar, where I stood.

“Chad, I want you to meet my future lover.” Bill then planted another kiss on Lars’s beet red face.

“Amazing what pen letters can produce, huh Lars.” I looked at the kid whose embarrassment grew by the second.

“I guess you two already met.” Bill’s voice sounded a little jealous.

“We introduced ourselves while waiting for you, not twenty minutes ago.”  I pulled a draft of Bill’s favorite beer and placed it front of him.

“I had trouble getting across town, goddamn traffic gets worse by the day.” Bill took his draft and sucked on the suds. “Thanks Chad, put it on my tab.”

“You don’t have a tab. I don’t keep tabs. This is a bar, not a bank.” My smile told them I wasn’t mad. “Its on the house.”

“I’m glad you’re here though, Merry told me a guy came in here the other night looking for you. Merry said he acted real mad and he heard him telling another guy that you fucked his mother out of her house. Merry said his tattoos showed him belonging to the Echo Park gang.”

“Jesus; that must be Batista’s son. I bought the note on her house and foreclosed when it went unpaid.”  Bill looked at Lars to see his reaction. He just smiled and stared with his baby blues.

“Merry didn’t tell him anything did he?”

“Hell no. You know Merry wouldn’t say anything, but that guy looking for you knows you come in here. Doesn’t he?”

“Damn, well it wouldn’t be the first threat I heard. He’ll cool down after a while.” Bill didn’t convince himself let alone anyone else.

“Most of the Hispanics around here have gang ties. If they don’t belong, they know someone who does. I would lay low for a while Bill. Just in case.”  The mood had changed and Lars now began to look around, probably for a fast exit if he needed to run from flying bullets.

“Lars, where are you from?” I asked.

“New Salem, North Dakota. My folks own a dairy farm there.” He brightened up and that big tooth grin came back.

“You must be a real cowboy then,” I said grinning back.

“Naw, we just milk them. Make cheese though, cheddar. It’s good too.”

“I bet it is.” I noticed a very small wishbone on a thin silver chain around his neck. “Say, what’s that on your neck? Looks like a wishbone. I never seen one so small.” I leaned over and touched the delicate object with my finger. His skin radiated warmth.

“It’s, from a baby sparrow. My sister has one too.” He stopped smiling, bringing his hand up to the small bone and ever so delicately, stroked it.

“Well I bet she is a real nice lady. She still back on the farm?” I asked.

“Huh—no, she went to New York about the time I left too.” He started to fidget with the bone and looked at Bill.

Bill put his hand around Lars’s waist and drew him close. “Say, how about we all go out to dinner tomorrow? I bet Lars is tired from that long trip and we’ll celebrate. Dinner on me, at the Golden Bull.”

“Sounds good to me. I haven’t been there in years.” I said.

Johnny Reno came through the door with a load of popcorn for the weekend crowd, I asked him to pick up for me.

“Thanks Johnny. Have you met Lars?” I asked.

Johnny put the popcorn bags on the bar and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you Lars, names Johnny, Johnny Reno. Texas boy from Kerrville. Ever go there? Nice place, Kerrville, hill country.” Johnny said pumping Lars’s hand.

“No sir, I haven’t.” Lars said.

“We gotta go babe. See ya tomorrow Chad. Eight good with you?” Bill tugged on Lars’s arm and the boy went back for his suitcase

“Tomorrow then, and I’m hungry so bring a card you haven’t maxed out.” I waved at them as they walked out the door.

“They an item, Chad?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s news to me too. I just found out myself.”

“Dang. That kid looked like a model or something. What’s he see in a guy like Bill, he looks like a frog turned inside out.” Johnny’s puzzled look and ears almost had me on the floor laughing.

“Good question. Maybe I’ll find out tomorrow. Well, it’s getting near five; the cube workers will be coming soon. Best get ready don’t you think?”

I left the bar when Merry came to work.  Driving through the traffic gave me time to think. I had a hunch Bill placed an ad on a gay Internet site and that’s how he met Lars. I remembered a conversation I had with Bill not long ago, after he had a few drinks. He felt lonely. He went on about all the money he made yet still came home to an empty house. I suggested a dog; Bill didn’t want a pet, he wanted a young good-looking guy who would love him. I knew Bill would take home a hustler from time to time. Merry would tell me that one of the barkeeps left early with Bill. I never thought much of it, other then wishing he would find one that wasn’t working for me that night. So, I told him about this site on the Internet.

“Bill, have you tried an ad,” I said.

“For what?” he asked.

“To find somebody. The Advocate has a free website where you can post an ad. People can read it from all over the world.” I picked up the last beer mug to dry and put away.

“Who would want to date me?” His mood hadn’t changed since the first beer.

“Look, why don’t you look at this like a real estate deal?”

“What ya mean?” 

I stood behind the bar and waited until Bill looked at me. “You want a young, good-looking guy. Okay, how much is that worth to you? How much are you willing to put up for it? Because the chances of a hot young buck sharing life with you and having sex while paying his own way is about as good as buying a lottery ticket and winning big.”

Bill stayed silent for a while. I could see the wheels turning. “You’re an asshole Chad, but you’re right. You got it all don’t you, good-looking, smart, nice build and money in the bank. How come you don’t have a lover? Why don’t you have someone to come home to? What the hell is wrong with you? You know what’s wrong with me, hell I see that everyday when I look in a mirror, but what in hell is wrong with you?” He raised his finger and pointed it right at my face.

He struck a nerve in me. Memories flooded my thoughts of high school and a love affair, my first and so far, only love affair. I picked up a clean glass and began to wash it over again. “I loved once, in high school. I loved so much that it hurt.” I couldn’t go on. The rush of memories clouded my eyes in tears. “Careful what you wish for, Bill. Love comes at a very high price.”

We didn’t say anything else to each other. I cleaned the countertop and served a couple of beers to customers. Then Bill got up and left a ten on the counter, walked over to where the free magazines laid stacked by the couch, picked up an Advocate and walked out. I put this conversation out of my head until Lars showed up.

Dinner the next night with Bill and Lars turned into a very nice evening. Lars talked about his interest in photography and Bill said he wanted to enroll him in classes at the community college. They looked happy together. Even with just one day living together, they seemed to know each other pretty well. I toasted to their life and happiness and we parted company in good spirits.

Months had gone by with Bill coming in on occasion for a beer and catching up with our lives. Lars had started classes at a community college and Bill gave him a nice little sports car. In fact, Bill seemed to delight in giving Lars gifts, a car, nice clothes and jewelry. Bill said the kid lit up when he gave him a present and he loved making him happy. “That’s what moneys for. Right? To make people happy,” he said. I couldn’t agree more.

Johnny Reno asked me for some time off later that year. His mother had passed away and he had to go back to his hometown to settle affairs. I thought of hiring someone, but decided that I would work his shift until he returned. Merry said he would take any of the day slots, if I felt I needed a rest. He could use a little extra cash for a car he had in mind.

            It happened on a Thursday after Johnny left. The bar packed with the after work crowd. Made up of young hip people, all laughing, talking and drinking. I looked up to see Lars talking with some guy. I thought maybe he and Bill decided to go out, but after looking around as best I could, I didn’t see Bill. Merry and I served fast and furious from five to seven. When the pace calmed down and we began to collect bottles and glasses. I noticed Lars had left. He never said hello or goodbye, so I asked Merry if he saw Lars too.

            Merry reached behind the sink, grabbed a pair of long yellow rubber gloves, snapped one on each large hand, and began to wash the glasses. “Ah-huh. Sure did.”

            “Did he say hello to you?”

            “No sir, he sure didn’t. He did the first couple of times he came in here. Sometimes he talk some, but mostly he don’t.” Merry grabbed a glass and began washing. Sitting the glass on a rubber mat to dry, he grabbed another one. Each glass got the same care as the last.

            “You would think he’d say hello,” I said.

            “He don’t have time to say hello, he finds him someone and off they go. Most times, he don’t even buy a drink.  You’d think he buy a drink, but he don’t.” Merry never missed a stroke with washing the glasses.

            “Shit, is Bill ever in here looking for him?”

            “No sir, Lars told me he’s takin’ an evening class at college. Must be pretty late in the evening?” Merry laughed and shook his head.

            “If Bill finds out, he’ll hit the roof. I’m gonna have to talk with Lars. I don’t want Bill creating a scene in here. You would think Lars would find another alley to tramp in, for gods sake.” Sometimes friends can be a real pain in the ass. First, it’s gang members looking for Bill, now his mail order bride out sowing oats.

            “Merry, next time you see Lars, let me know, I want to have a talk with him.”

            “Sure will, would you hand me those glasses on the table?”

            Johnny Reno came back after two weeks. His mom had an old, high finned Cadillac that Johnny drove all the way back to Silver Lake. He parked the pink and white dinosaur right in front of Mom’s Place, and called out for everybody in the bar to look at his inheritance.

            “Just look at that baby, and you know it rides like dream. Like a dream. Damn if I didn’t almost fall asleep. Felt like driving a sofa down the Interstate. Look inside. See that? Genuine leather, real goddamn leather seats and it’s all mine. I named her Mary Lou, after my ma.” Johnny walked around the Cadillac like showing a prize steer to cowboys.

            “What kinda mileage you get?” asked one of the bar patrons.

            “When you drive a car as fine as this, you don’t give a rat’s ass about mileage. Shit, it sucks gas like a hog sucks slop. I got it free and clear, I saved a ton of dough and I didn’t need to sleep in no goddamn motel either. Hell, I just laid out on the backseat and had room for company, if I wanted any.”  Johnny stationed himself by the driver’s door. Ready to defend the honor of his Mary Lou.

            “Well you got yourself a classic Cadillac, this hunk is worth some money to a collector. The white upholstery is in good shape, nice interior, looks like it could use some tires though. Yeah you could get a good penny for this car,” I said.

            “I ain’t selling Mary Lou, it’s my mamas. I ain’t selling even if she’s worth a million. I’m goin’ to pick up Merry and we’re gonna cruise the beach, won’t that be somethin’.” Johnny smiled and opened Mary Lou’s door. He tucked in behind the wheel and closed the door while we stood on the sidewalk watching.

            “Have a great time,” I said

            Johnny waved to us while he maneuvered the monolith from the curb. We watched him drive down the street. All we could see from behind were the top of his ears and the back of his head.

            That gave the bar a good reason to drink and we went inside to discuss the Mary Lou. A short time later, Lars came in and walked right up to me.

            Lars stood on the other side of the bar. “Merry said you wanted to talk with me,” he said with a smile.  

            “You know, I’m friends with Bill and I hope you too. Why would you use my place to go trashing?”

            “Seems nice enough here, I like the people.” His smile seemed a little cocky to me.

            “And that’s the way I want to keep it. Bill finds out you’re pulling tricks from here; he’ll be pissed, at you and me. They’re lots of other bars you can go to.”

            “Maybe I like playing with fire.”

            I put down the glass in my hand. “I see, you have one of those self destruct buttons built in.”

            He looked at me and lost the smile. “What do you mean?”

            I looked him right in the eye. “Like a hustler. They’re not dumb, their good-looking, but they have to sell it to make them selves tick.  You’re just a high priced whore. So why is it Lars? Bill wants the best for you and you’re treating him like trash. Why?”

            Lars reached up to his necklace and fingered the wishbone on the chain around his neck; he sat there deep in thought for a moment and then said, “My home was different then what you see on TV. ” He looked down, his lower lip began to quiver, a few seconds later with tears falling he said, “I don’t know why I do it, I don’t know why I’m living here with Bill, but I do know anything is better then back home. Anything.”

Lars watched the two men playing pool for a minute before continuing. “My dad.  He—made me and my sister do things.” He put his head down. I watched tears splash on the bar top. “I saw the ad Bill put on the Internet. We sent e-mail and photos. He told me he would take care of me. I never told him what was going on. On the day I left, I stole money from my dad. I gave my sister most of it and told her to run as far away as you can. Go to New York, anywhere but get away before it’s too late. She went to New York and I came here.” Deep sobs came from his soul, torn from a black and dirty scar.

            I placed my hand on his. Tears boiled in my eyes. I wished to hell that this was the first time I heard a story like this, but it wasn’t.

            “You can get help. They have counselors that have heard stories like yours and can help. What you’re doing is killing yourself. If you don’t get help, you might as well put a gun to your head.”

            Lars brushed the tears with the back of his hand. “I gotta go. I’m sorry for causing you trouble. I don’t have any friends. I don’t think I ever had friends.”

            “You do now, Bill loves you. You make him happy. Get help before it’s too late. You don’t have to feel alone.” I held his hand and we stayed that way until he pulled his hand away and walked out of the bar.

            Things seemed to get better after that. I called them both and we had a few dinner dates. Lars went to therapy. His indiscretions never came up among us, but I had a feeling that Bill knew of the affairs and looked the other way. I know, in talking with Bill, that he encouraged Lars to go to therapy. The biggest problem came from Bill’s hard-handed buying and selling in the Latino community. More than one threat surfaced in bar talk concerning Bill’s welfare. I didn’t think too much of it until one terrible day.

            A plainclothes cop walked into the bar one afternoon. The officer filled his dark gray suit well, good looking too, with short black hair, dark eyes and dimples.

“Mr. Chad Larkins?” he asked.

            “That’s me, what can I do for you officer?” I thought Merry or Johnny got into some kind of trouble.

“Do you know a Bill Stanton and Lars Stoianoff?”

            “Yes sir, I’m a friend of theirs.” I felt like I needed a drink.

            “Sir, I have some bad news and I’m hoping you can help us. Is there some place private we can talk?”

I looked around, just the regulars playing pool. “Well, I’m the only one here, how about if we go to the front and sit. I have a feeling this isn’t good.” My limbs went heavy.

            We sat down. “I’m detective, Dan Hallum of homicide.” He pulled out a wallet and showed me his identification. “I’m sorry to bring you this news.” He paused a moment and I felt he genuinely did not like this part of his job. “We found your friends murdered in their bedroom. A neighbor called when she noticed their newspapers left in the drive and their cars still parked. They were killed early in the morning about three or four o’clock.” He spoke in a soft voice, sitting close to me on the couch at the front window. “Would you have any idea who would murder your friends?”

            It hit me like a hammer, like a sucker punch coming out of nowhere. “I can’t think right now. I’m sorry, I can’t think.” Tears welled in my eyes. I thought of the last time I saw them. “We had dinner the night before, half price on Tuesdays. They were talking about Lars classes at a community college. We joked with each other.” My eyes let the tears fall in heavy drops. The detective handed me some tissue from his breast pocket. We sat there for a long time, not saying anything.

            I asked, “How did they die?”

            “It looks like Lars never woke up. The killer slashed his throat ear to ear severing the jugular.  Bill had a gash from the same knife on his hand defending himself before meeting the same fate.” He paused a moment, “Would you consent to a D.N.A test if needed?”

I sat with my mouth gapped opened. “Yes of course. Who would do this? Bill stepped on toes once in a while but to die like that?”

“If you remember anything, even a hunch, something that might give us a clue. I’d appreciate it.” He stood, placing one hand on my shoulder holding out a business card with the other.

            “There is something.” The detective sat down and pulled out a pen and notepad while I collected myself. “Bill made a great deal of money in real estate. He turned me on to this building when property here hit rock bottom. There’s talk in the neighborhood from the Latinos. Bill bought some loans on property and foreclosed on them. Families with gang connections owned some of those homes. Rumors spread about Bill stealing homes from old ladies and threats made on his life from some of the families. I only know of one family Bill named when I told him about the rumors. He said the Batista family. Their son made threats here in the bar one night. Bill foreclosed on their house when the loan went unpaid after he bought the note.  That’s about all I know.”

            “Thanks, this may help. Give me a call if you hear anything, no matter how trivial.” He paused a moment, taking my hand in his and then said, “ I’m sorry to bring you the news of your friends.” The detective then stood and walked out. I put his card in my wallet. Stunned that people I knew were victims of a double homicide.

            I stayed on that night, telling Merry and Johnny what occurred and to keep their eyes and ears open. I also feared going home alone for the first time. I think Merry realized how I felt. When the bar closed, he walked me to my car and told me to call anytime—he could get there faster then the cops.

            A couple of weeks went by, I called detective Hallum. All their leads ended in dead ends. The police thought the Batista’s son, that made threats to Bill, might be in Mexico. They couldn’t find him in the neighborhood. I thought of telling about Lars’s social life, although I had no idea what help, if any, it could be. I decided against it, for a while at least.

            Over a month had passed when I drove to a great little taco stand that sat near the Greyhound Bus station. The best tacos made in L.A. and cheap. My new friend, Angus, loved them and I promised to bring some back.  I’m sitting on one of the stools perched out front of the stand, when from the bus station, a stunning young blond walked by me. I know a hooker when I see one. She didn’t dress like the local prostitutes. I figured she just got off the bus. I kept thinking, there’s more about her than the fancy clothes, something I remembered seeing before.

It hit me. I told the taco guy to hold my order; I would be right back. He laughed when he saw me running after her.

            “Miss! Hey wait a minute!” I yelled, trying to get through the throngs of people.         Moms with baby strollers, rappers and businessmen, all of them decided to hit the sidewalk at that moment.

            She kept walking, ignoring me, or not hearing me. Finally, after bumping into an overfilled trashcan, I came up next to her, out of the breath. “Hey! Please wait. I have to talk to you.” I panted and gasped, flushed red in the face.

            She turned and positioned herself like a very street-wise person. “Yeah,” she said in a drawn out tone, hands on her hips.

            “Do you have a brother named Lars?”

            She looked me up and down for a moment. “Yes. Yes. You know him?

            “The wishbone on the chain, he has one too.”

            Tears began to form in her thickly outlined mascara eyes. Her hand went to the small bone with her fingers gently stroking the delicate piece hung around her neck. “Can you tell me where he is?”

            “We need to talk. I’m a friend of Lars.”

            “Do you know where my brother is?”

            “We need to talk. Lars told me about you.” I took her hand in mine and led her like a child through the crowd. Her high heels and short skirt didn’t quite match my ‘I Saw Elvis at the Mall’ Tee shirt and baggy shorts.

At the taco stand, I asked her to sit down and ordered a soda for her, placing the drink in front of her. “My name is Chad.”

 “Vickie. Now, what about my brother?”

I held her hand in mine. I hate crying in public, yet my tears fell in big drops while I tried my best to rein them in. “I met Lars through a friend of mine. They lived together. Your brother told me that you each have a wishbone and that your home life was.” I stopped a moment, not sure how to phrase the subject. “Your father did things that fathers shouldn’t.” I looked into her blue eyes and then started again. “Please, would you come to my house? It’s hard talking like this in public.”

“If Lars told you about our dad, I guess I can trust you. Sure, after what I’ve been through, why not.” She smiled and reached over with her fingers wiping my tears off my cheek. 

  I picked up the bag of tacos, paying for them and we walked to my car. The Volkswagen had a parking ticket on the windshield; the meter had expired.

            While driving in the car, I asked, “How did you guys get the wishbones?”

“Behind our house grew a big oak tree. We played in it and under it as kids. One day a fierce storm hit and the tree blew down. We went out the next day and Lars found a birds nest.” She turned her head to me. “The nest had two baby birds that died from exposure. He took them and the next day gave me one of the wishbones on a chain.” Vickie touched the wishbone hanging on her neck. “He said, like the two baby sparrows, we would always be together. Then he put one on me and I put the other one on him.” She looked out the window at the traffic passing by, deep in thought. She then turned back to me. “Lars and me were born together, fraternal twins.”

“You two must have been quite a pair.” I pulled up to the house, noticing that she didn’t say anything.

            Taking side streets to get to my place at the top of Echo Park Blvd, we arrived in just a few minutes. I had a nice little duplex, with a great view of the city skyline. On rare days, when the wind blows the smog away, you can see the ocean.

Angus started whining on the porch; he must have smelled the tacos. Vickie got out the other side and smiled.  Angus sat on the porch with his head raised howling as if a fire truck’s siren went off.

            “He does that when he smells tacos. Not any tacos mind you, just the ones from Tika’s taco stand.”  Opening the front gate, we walked to the porch.

            “Angus, this is Vickie. Vickie—Angus.” Vickie reached her hand out to the white headed pit bull who smelled, then licked her hand, wagging his tail. He then turned his attention to the bag of tacos.

            Friends of mine, Merry and Johnny, made me take him for protection. He is such a sweetie; I can’t see him as an attack dog. Angus’s big white head with gray and black stripes on his back gave him a comic look. One ear always stood up and one always down. Another yodel came from Angus.     

            “Lets go inside, there’s some cold beer in the fridge for our meal.” I opened the door and followed Vickie and Angus inside.

            Vickie walked to the window side of the duplex. “Look at the that view, better than anything in New York.”

There’s a view of the city skyline from just about every room. She looked at the oddball collection of stuff. Monkeys with symbols and twirling hats, elephants on bicycles and a Scottie dog with one eye sat carved in wood. More toys and books lay scattered on shelves all around the living room. Kites hung from the ceiling. The fireplace, filled with candles, faced the overstuffed burgundy couch and chairs. In the dining room, she ran her hand along the wood surface of the round oak table and chairs. A candle chandelier hung from its ceiling and an oak and glassed cabinet held dishes, cups and teapots. I went to the kitchen and opened two beers from the refrigerator, bringing them back.

            “Sit down. You’re about to have the best damn food in Los Angeles.” I pulled two plates from the cupboard, placing one in front of her along with a beer.

            “You’re gay aren’t you?” she asked.

            “As pink ink,” I said with a smile. “I guess the kites gave up my secret, huh?”

            She reached over and grabbed my wrist. “No, because you’re kind.” Her soft smile reminded me of Lars.

            We had our tacos, including Angus who just about ate them whole. Taking our beers, we walked to the living room.

            Vickie sat down on the couch and said, “My brother’s dead isn’t he.” Her face expressed no emotion, more of acceptance. I thought she must have had a hard life.

            “Yes. Murdered actually.” 

            She looked down at her lap as tears fell in large drops. She sat their silent for a while and then said,” Do they have the killer?”

            “No, not that I have heard. I have the detective’s business card and he keeps me updated. I think you should talk to him.” I took out my wallet and handed her the card. “You can use my phone if you like. I have some things to do in the kitchen.

            “No, please stay. I’m really nervous,” she said while dialing

            “Sure.”

            After a short pause, the phone answered. Vickie talked with the detective who asked if he could come and see her. She asked me and I took the phone, giving him where I lived. He said he could be there in a half hour.

            “Chad, would you have any clothes I could fit into. I don’t want to talk with a cop dressed like this.”

            “Sure, I think we can get you fitted in a Tee shirt and jeans or something. I saved some old clothes of mine thinking I would be eighteen again. That ain’t never going to happen.” We laughed and I took her hand, leading her to my bedroom.

            We managed a nice casual look and after some make up removal, Vickie went from slut to princess. In fact, she looked beautiful. I told Vickie she could stay with me as long as needed. Lars and her had some tough breaks and it’s about time someone helped.

            Angus gave a howl and with that, we knew a car had parked in front. A knock came from the door.

            “Chad, nice seeing you again. May I come in?”

            “Sure. Detective Dan Hallum, this is Vickie Stoianoff.” Vickie extended her hand.

            “Very nice to meet you, huh Miss? Stoianoff.” He took her hand with a big smile.

            “It’s Miss. Please call me Vickie. What can you tell me about my brother?” She sat down while Dan and I took seats near her.

            “Your brother’s murderer is still at large. We tried contacting you and your family in North Dakota. Vickie, I’m afraid I have more bad news. We called the state police in North Dakota, they told us your mother had been found shot in the back of the head. They haven’t found your father. We tried contacting you. Chad said your brother told him you moved to New York. The police there haven’t been able to locate you, or have they?”

            “I went by a fictitious name in New York. I have reasons of my own to keep my identity a secret.” Vickie began to fidget with the bone hanging around her neck.

            “Do you know of anybody who would want to kill your brother, or do you have any idea who would kill your mother?” The detective edged up on the chair, sitting on the rim of the cushion.

            Vickie looked up at the ceiling and her face flushed. Tears began to trickle along her cheeks. I went to the bedroom and came back with tissue for her, however before I got back, detective Hallum must have given her a tissue. His hand, rested on her shoulder while she dabbed at the flow of tears.

            Dan placed one finger on the bottom of her chin, lifting her face up. “Take all the time you need. Anything you say is confidential, no matter how trivial, it could lead to solving the murders.”

            Vickie sucked in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “ Someone tried to murder me in New York. I thought a customer I once had, or some crazy bastard that my pimp picked up. Hell, I thought it might be my pimp. He beat me up a few times for trying to run away. I wanted to find my brother. My pimp found out about me stashing money away. ” She looked down at the coffee table in front. “Shit, I didn’t want to let you know…about my life. Damn, and what a hell of a life.” Again, tears began to form and fall. She dabbed at her eyes. “My brother and I had a really rotten childhood. I don’t know if Lars knew everything. He tried to protect me. Our father raped both of us as kids.”

Vickie stood and walked to the window looking out at the skyline while Dan and I sat watching her. “He threatened to kill our mother and us, if we said anything. He made tapes having sex with us. I found one once. He would take us to the storeroom and that’s where he did his little number. I found the camera behind some boxes.”

She turned and leaned on the wall looking at us both. “That’s not all. I had sex with my dad and our town’s preacher. I’m sure they tapped that too. Lars stole some money when I told him I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to kill myself.  He stole money from our dad and told me to get as far away as I could. “Go to New York,” he said. I did, but to survive I had to prostitute myself. It didn’t take long for a pimp to pick me up. I never contacted my family after that.”

She walked back to the couch, sat down and folded her legs under her, wrapping her arms around herself. Tears fell from my eyes; I looked over at Dan who sat there motionless as stone, his eyes wet.

            “I wanted to see my brother so bad. I knew he came to Los Angeles, but the pimp never let me out of his sight for long. A couple of days ago, I got a call to go to a John’s hotel room. When I found the right door, it was ajar and no lights on. I knocked and somebody told me to come in. I heard the voice before but couldn’t place where. It was real creepy, the hotel, the room—everything. I stood there and said, hey, do you mind turning on a light? I got no answer but I heard someone in there. I pushed on the door to open it wider so I could see inside. A hand grabbed my wrist and pulled on me. If it wasn’t for the bracelets that I wore he would have pulled me in the room, but they broke in his hand. I ran as fast as I could, never looking back. I ran out of the hotel and across the street. The bus depot sat on the other side from the hotel. I ran right inside and bought a ticket. I had money to get to Kansas City. When I got there, I turned a few tricks, making enough to get to L.A.”

She stopped and reached over to where I sat, placing her hand on my shoulder. “That’s when I met Chad.” She smiled at me and I smiled back.

            Dan stood up. “Vickie, is your father’s name Otis Stoianoff?”

            She sat back on the couch and looked at Dan standing there. “Yes sir. That’s his name.”

            “Thanks, I’ll run his name right now.”

Dan turned to me. “Can I use the phone?”

            “Sure, go ahead. Can I get you anything?”

            “No thanks. This won’t take too long.” Dan walked to the phone and dialed a number. While Dan talked on the phone, I turned to Vickie who looked deep in thought.

            “Hey! Hello in there.” I waved at her, breaking her concentration.

            “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

            “I know. When the detective is through, would you like to take a hot bath and then we’ll go to a department store and do a little girl shopping.” I held out my hand and placed it on hers.

            “That sounds wonderful, but I could sleep for three days. Can we later?”

            “Sure, take a bath, get in my bed. I’ll leave my cell phone number on the table for you. When you wake up, call me. I’ll be at the bar, it’s not far from here.” I walked to the kitchen and filled glasses with water bringing them back to the living room.

            Dan hung up the phone. “We have no criminal record of your father. Vickie, did your father have an alias?”

            “No, not that I know of.” She began to fidget again with her necklace.

            I put the tray of glasses down and then put my arm around her. “You’re safe. How could he find you here?” I looked up at detective Hallum. “Don’t you think she is safe here?”

            He didn’t answer.

            “We’ll put the word out, checking the airports, trains and bus terminals.”

            He walked over to Vickie and wrote a number down on a pad, then tore the paper from it and handed it to her. “Anytime day or night. This is my personal number where you can reach me. I’ll do everything I can for you Vickie. Everything.” He then knelt beside her. “I promise.”

            Vickie reached her arms out wrapping them around Dan while he knelt there. She didn’t say anything, just hugged him. After a moment, she let go. “All these years thinking no one gave a damn. Now, I meet two people who are human after all.”

“Get some sleep. Call me when you wake. Okay?” I asked.

“Okay.” She said.

“Detective Hallum, I’ll put the word out at the bar and see if anyone knows somebody suspicious asking questions.”

“Call me if you hear anything.” He walked over to the door, opening it. “Take care of her buddy. I think she’s pretty special.” He smiled at me.

“Will do.” I smiled back.

Dan then shut the door and I turned to Vickie who got up and walked to the bathroom. “You’ll find towels and everything you need in the bathroom cupboard. Angus here will let you know if anyone comes near the place. I’ll lock the door behind me.” She raised her hand and waved while walking to the bathroom door, never looking back. She walked like someone a hundred years old.

Angus came to the door and I told him to guard the house, as if he needed to hear it. Getting in my car, I drove as fast as I could. Happy hour must be in full swing. On the way, I wondered if I should give Vickie the word that Angus knows to attack. Merry got Angus from a friend who trained dogs in the armed service. He said Angus, with his powerful bite, could crush bone. He trained him to attack the arm that held any sort of weapon. I never tried it out and hoped I never would. The dog didn’t work out for the guy’s business. Too friendly for a guard dog, but he would attack when given the word.  I liked to think of Angus gobbling tacos from Tika, not a dog that could break bones.

At the bar, Merry and Johnny were busy with the happy hour crowd.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m so late. I’ll make it up to you both. Thanks for taking over.” I felt bad about this.

“We figured something happened. Merry picked up a couple of pastrami’s on his way in when I called him,” Johnny said.

“I met Lars’s sister. She talked with detective Hallum and man, what a story. When the bar gets slack, I’ll fill you guys in.” I started work and continued until about eight when the bar emptied out except for the regulars who lived in the area.

After I had a chance to talk with Merry and Johnny about what happened, they asked if I knew what Lars and Vickie’s father looked like. I told them no, but maybe the detective would have a picture of him. I didn’t want to disturb Vickie’s sleep, but her not calling had me worried. I figured she probably passed out from exhaustion. At two, I told the guys to go home. I’d close up and see them tomorrow.

After they left, I picked up the stray glasses, beer bottles and swept the place out. I had time to think of what occurred and wondered if Vickie’s father knew her whereabouts. He couldn’t have seen us when I met her. I thought too, that if he killed Lars and Bill, then he must know about me. Maybe he didn’t, but the possibility frightened me all the same.  I finally closed the door to Mom’s Place and walked to my car. The sound of each footstep on the sidewalk made me feel more alone. When I got to my car, I looked around one more time before getting in. Strange how you can feel watched. That tingling sensation on my skin and uneasy feeling in my gut had me jumpy. Like getting out of a horror movie and feeling the monster is watching you. On the way home, I kept an eye out for cars behind me and along my side to see if anyone might be following me.

When I arrived at my place, I noticed that the porch had very poor lighting, barely enough to see the door. I never noticed it before; always hating well-lit homes that looked liked a fortress. I reminded myself to get a stronger light before nightfall tomorrow.  I opened the door, there stood Angus right at the door to greet me. His tail wagging and his big floppy lips pulled back in a grin. I went to the hall closet, pulling out blankets and a pillow to nestle into the couch. I can’t remember my head hitting the pillow before falling asleep. When morning came, I woke to the smell of coffee and toast.

“Hey sleepy head. Ready for coffee?” Vickie had on a pair of jeans and a shirt from my closet. Her blond hair and figure made her look good in burlap.

“I am, and how about you and me doing some shopping after breakfast?”

“Ready to go at a moments notice. Say, I’ll pay you back when I can get some cash. Okay?” She poured me a cup of coffee and handed me a plate with two pieces of toast.

“How would you like a job at Mom’s Place?”

“Doing what?” she asked.

“A bartender of course. The bar has picked up a lot of business and I could use extra hands. I’m sure Merry and Johnny would love the help. So how about it?”

She put her coffee cup down “Sure. You’re not doing this just to help me are you?”

“It will help both of us. I have been putting off hiring extra help too long anyway and if you don’t like it, you can leave. Deal?”

“Deal.” We shook hands and Angus put in his two cents with a bark.

Shopping is my second favorite hobby and Vickie and I had a great morning scouring the mall. Afterwards, we came back and unpacked the bundles, and made ready for Vickie’s first day at work. The regulars were waiting outside of Mom’s Place when we arrived. When they saw her, it was all smiles and the tardiness forgiven. She worked out well; it didn’t take her long to know the ropes. I called detective Hallum. He wanted to come by the bar and show Vickie a photo they had of her father. Not long after my call, Dan came through the door.

“Hey, look at you. I didn’t know you worked here too,” Dan said with a big smile to Vickie.

I saw Vickie smile when Dan walked in. “I just started, can I get you something?” she said leaning on the counter.

Dan pulled a poster from a folder. “I want you to look at this photo and tell me if it’s your father.”

She took the photo and studied it. I looked over her shoulder and saw a man with fair colored hair, blue eyes, strong chin with a cleft who had a smile.

Vickie took the picture and studied it for a moment. “Yes, this is a picture taken over ten years ago, but it's my dad." She handed it back.

Thanks. Say, if you’re not doing anything tonight…would you like to go to dinner and a movie?”  I picked up some glasses and began to wash them, trying not to hear.

“Well, I don’t know. Let me ask.” She turned facing me.

Before she could say a word, “ You go right on. Don’t need me to tell you what you can do.” I gave her a wink.

“Sure! I’d love it. What time?”

“Pick you up at six. Is that okay?” Dan looked like a kid more then a cop.

“I’ll be ready. See you then. I have work to do you know.” Her smile with the blue eyes and blond hair gave her the look of a million dollars.

“Dan, can I keep the poster. I want to show it to Merry and Johnny.”

“Sure, its yours let me know if you want any more.” He handed me the wanted poster.

“Thanks.” I thought I might frame it and put it on the wall in the men’s room, right over the urinal.

When the boys came in, I showed them the picture of  ‘Dad of the Year’. They agreed, the urinal seemed just right for him. Merry and Johnny said they had no news from the hood of anyone looking for a daughter or looking for anybody for that matter. Outside of some unpaid debts and Mrs. Rocha looking for her drunken husband.

Vickie and I took off for home. Angus with his wagging tail and slobber greeted us at the door. Vickie seemed to take all of the events in great stride. I guess some people just bounce back up when hit with a slammer. She took a bath and readied herself for the date faster then most guys I know. When I commented on how quick she made ready, she winked and said, “Practice. Practice. Practice.”

Dan knocked at the door right at six. What a hunk, I thought to myself. “Hey Dan come in.”

“Thanks.” He saw Vickie across the room. “Hey, beautiful.” His eyes never left her. “Ready?”

“I sure am.” She walked across the room and gave him a kiss.

“Listen you two.” They both looked at me. “Have a hell of a good time.” Angus barked we watched the two walk down to his car and drive off.

“Well Angus old buddy, it’s just you and me. How about pizza and a movie?” Angus’s wag meant he wanted extra cheese.

We had a pleasant night, the pizza hot and cheesy. A big win on Wheel of Fortune and Nature had a program on Africa. Angus love’s zebra’s.

The clock struck ten-thirty and the two of us had yawned for the last hour. I pulled opened the hall closet to get my bedding for the couch and Angus signaled he wanted out. When I opened the back door, he took one sniff and charged out. Angus and the cat next door had a feud going on over boundaries. I left the door ajar so he could come back in and went back to making my bed. Just as I got the couch nice and cozy, I heard a car pull up out front and Angus kept up a steady stream of barking.  Looking out the front window, I could see Dan’s car and two people next to the car talking, so I snuck back to call Angus before he woke the neighborhood.

“Angus, come in boy.” The dog kept barking over in the corner near the sidewalk that runs on the other side of the duplex. The dog came trotting over and I told him to come inside but he refused. That’s when I heard the scream. A high-pitched scream cut off near the end that came from in front of the duplex. I started to run, and at the same time, I grabbed my cellular and punched the speed dial for the bar.

“Moms Place.” Merry said.

“I need you guys now. Just leave the bar and get here as fast as you can,” I said as I opened the front door.

“We’re comin’.” The phone went dead.

In front of me, on the other side of the gate, stood a tall man with his arm around Vickie’s neck pressing her against his chest. She held on to his arm with both of her hands trying to pull his arm from her neck. The man’s other hand held a hunting knife.  He looked right at me. A sneer crossed his face.

“Let her go!” I yelled.

With his lips never breaking apart, a slow mean smile crept on his face. He shook his head, dragging Vickie back towards the street. I started to run towards them with Angus ready at the gate barking his head off.

“Let her go you fuck! Let her go.”

The man gave an ugly, mean laugh. He raised the knife up while looking at me and with Vickie pinned to his chest, her eyes stared madly up at him while her hands clawed and beat the arm holding her.

Opening the gate I yelled, “Lollipop!”

Angus bolted at the man faster then a Patriot Missile. His mouth opened and a horrible wild growl came from him. He launched himself directly at the arm holding the knife. The fanged-toothed jaws came down on the wrist just above the knife and the next thing I heard was the sickening crunch of bones. The man screamed letting go of Vickie.

She fell, stumbling to the ground and crawled to the parkway. “It’s the preacher—the preacher man!” she cried.

Angus hung on to the man’s arm; blood splattering everywhere as the dog ground his jaws into the man’s flesh. The preacher let out another scream. He grabbed at Angus’s head with his free hand trying to pry the jaws off his arm, Angus held on. He shook his arm trying to dislodge the dog’s jaw. Then, in one horrible swoop of his arm, he smashed Angus on the curb. Angus’s high pitch scream cried out when his body battered into the cement, yet he held on tight. The preacher beat the dog’s head repeatedly with his fist. Angus yelped as the blows rained on him, crunching down even more on the wrist until I could see the hand flopping, hitting Angus on the side of his face with lifeless bloody fingers. The man screamed again and looked wild eyed around the area.

There on the parkway grass, a cold steel blade shimmered. I saw what the preacher man had spied and lunged. Angus held on fast to the wrist growling and chewing on the flesh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dan laying on the sidewalk out cold. Blood trickled from the back of his head.

We both grabbed at the knife, the blade cut into my palm while I tried pulling it from the preacher man. For a moment, Angus and I looked at each other. I could see Angus’s determined look and I knew he would die before letting go of that arm. The dog looked at me as if to tell me to keep fighting—no matter what—keep fighting. I did too; I tried to break the knife free while blood poured from my palm with the knife’s edge cutting into the soft flesh.

The preacher lifted his foot and kicked me, pushing me off my feet. I screamed as the knife—again—cut across my palm and slipped from my grasp. The man staggered off balance from the push, moving backwards to the middle of the street.

There was a moment of bright flashing headlights and a blaring horn, cresting over the top of Echo Park Boulevard where the battle raged, a huge pink and white Cadillac came flying in the air. Johnny Reno had hit the gas pedal of the monster with Merry riding shotgun. The airborne Cadillac landed dead center on the preacher man. The front end of the car smashed into his body as he fell backwards. The front wheel ran over the preacher’s chest and the caddie came to a rest with the back wheel pinning him to the asphalt. Angus held tight to the mangled arm.

The next thing I heard were sirens and flashes of light. I laid on the ground with my eyes closed, breathing hard. I could hear Johnny Reno talking to Merry, telling him to get Angus off the arm.

Merry said, “At ease.” Then I felt Angus lapping my face.

Everything after that came in a sort of blur. Police and rescue units pulled up with their colored lights flashing and whirling, someone helped me into an ambulance and the sirens roared to a hospital. Late that night or the next morning, I saw the front porch once again and Angus waiting for me with strips of tape around his ribs. I slept for the longest time, when I woke the clock said three-thirty.

“Hey sleepy, how you feeling?” Vickie said.

I looked up at her wonderful smile. “Who hit me with the baseball bat?” Angus jumped on the bed and licked my bandaged hand.

“Feel like taking a drive? Everybody is at Queen of Angeles and I have two dozen Tika tacos keeping warm.” Angus looked up at Vickie when he heard ‘Tika tacos’ and whined.

Vickie said, “You’ll get yours hero. Not to worry.” He barked then gave a sharp yelp.

I reached over with my good hand and patted his head. “Hey buddy, watch it. I’ll need you around here from now on.”

We loaded up in the V.W. Angus sat on the porch with the last of his tacos next to him. We watched him nibble the last one, savoring his prize. Vickie drove us to Queen of Angeles where we parked and walked inside to the elevators taking one to the eighth floor. Vickie informed me that Dan had a bad concussion from the blow on the back of his head with the butt of the knife. She said that they traced the preacher back to a seedy motel, that’s where the police found the body of her father. The preacher’s name was Claude Semone. The F.B.I. wanted him for trafficking in kiddie porn on the Internet. The elevator door opened. No need to look for the room number, people had gathered outside of the room where we could hear Johnny Reno talk about the rescue.

Dan’s police buddies stood around the bed, Merry and Johnny sat next to him. Some of the regulars at the bar stood near the window. We squeezed into the room and Vickie walked over to Dan bending down and giving him a kiss. He reached his hand out taking hers while she sat on the bed next to him. One of the police officers asked Johnny to go on with the story as I took a taco out and passed the bag to the next person.

“Well sir, back in Texas we learn how to drive right after the first burp. My mama, Mary Lou, the same name I gave that fine-engineered Caddie, showed me how to drive, why I learned how to zip in and out a heard of cattle without so much as hitting a horse fly. So, when Merry and me drove to the rescue, taking the back roads we know in our sleep, I hauled ass. Merry yelling turn left, watch old lady Rosales car she always parks out on that corner. We squealed and skidded and dodged at over a hundred miles an hour. The Mary Lou, she sure can go fast when you want her too.”

I looked around the room, filled with cops and bums and a pretty woman, all eating tacos while listening to Johnny Reno’s tale of salvation, thinking, you know, Silver Lake is not a bad place to live after all.

****