9

The beat from the stereo rocked your wagon pulling into the Stanfield Academy parking lot. Your new cell was being unruly, you phoned ahead to jail break your littlest sister from class, the administration office was full of academic leftists. The receptionist was lazy answering the phone, the usual hellos and breathy replies to your inquiry as to what class your sister was in. After small talk over aspirations for the day she gave you the go ahead to remove Boo from class. She was waiting by the flagpole, breezy cut band tee shirt, black and blue sundress and black sun hat. She hiked up her shirt walking to the car revealing ornate black pin stripping rising up her waist to her ribs; you honked your horn in delight as she sauntered over to car door. She threw herself onto the glass, the little white fuzz on her belly slid over the tinted surface, the twin Cos below her belly button back to back starting the line work up and out over hipbones to rib cage and pausing below breast curve. She swung open the car door tossing in a black duffle bag from her back over the seat and hopped into the passenger seat.

“I did it in second period, all free hand, I didn’t have any blue pens though, but these black ones kind of have a metallic look to them right? Like ground copper, doesn’t smear either.” She rolled down her shirt and strapped in the safety belt. “I’ve got something for you.” She dug into her bag. You drove through a traffic light, skirting through just on the yellow to red transition. A mash up on the speakers, guitars and steady drumbeat mixed in with m***********s. You rolled down the windows and opened the panoramic sunroof. The day was opening up, the sun at high noon, all the shadows gone from the light post on your path to the expressway. You were heading out to Los Los for lunch, something outside of the city would be a good change of pace. You didn’t spend a lot of time in this section of Bernal but they did have some of the best eats around. You’d been invited to a couple parties but nothing ever panned out. Ren’s house your only real haunt. There was a new entertainment elite feeding the city that demanded young blood, all too positive on a shiny happy hipness that made you sick. “Voila.” She pulled out a thin notebook emblazoned with her face in large sunglasses alternating black and blue stripes radiating out from the picture. “I was really busy since you were gone obviously. You’ve got great timing. Did you know that Willie Hunters was gay? I mean if you call it that. It’s weird really, from what I hear from Maggie it’s more like a power thing.”

“I knew it, I f*****g knew it, I always had a suspicion, he was always a bit too much of a gung ho guy when I was around. At first I just thought he was a big meat head, but I get it now,” you focused on the road.

“Yeah, so anyway, him and his friends have been buying boys. I guess they’re buying anyone really but the Hunters really had a thing for guys. It’s a gay for pay thing, except they didn’t like to play by the rules. They were raping a lot of boys, John Dens, Walt Stern, Paul Ola, s**t this list goes on and on, its actually pretty impressive in a weird way, they had a hell of a modus going on. I guess Grant liked to watch or they were trying to break him in or something, I don’t know.” You rolled up the windows, the whipping wind was making it difficult to hear, this was too good, bells and whistles went off in your head the connections becoming clearer and clearer. From your precipice you took these things as second nature but on second look, it was something you knew but avoided eyeballing without a horse in the game. “So when you got up to Harlords that night, you were early. That Paul Robertson guy was a middleman if there ever was one. The Hunters were buying a f**k toy in Devon Reynolds. He’d been selling himself for a while, but mostly to older men. He was sucking off that preacher from Sunday Service on a regular basis and our old mayor, the right sider. Anyway, he got caught up with the Fry's and they turned him out. I think they got him sick or something, there were a bunch of hospital visits, mostly because of trauma but the other ones look a little suspect. Paul was pimping him out but lost the reigns. You wandered into something awful from the looks of it. Spencer, Sean and Stewie are the ones that tried to roasty toasty you that day. I’ve got suspicions on the house fires, but I got lucky with the Sonnisons being so willing. Can I keep them?” You rubbed Boo’s head in approval. She had been busy, and if you knew anything she backed herself well in working out the cowboys from the red herrings. You replayed the parting gift from your almost watery grave in your head, still unable to make out the Fry brothers. No matter, tact would make sure to separate the muscle from fat on the fire.

“You really like them, don’t you?” you blew kissy faces, your little sister’s cheeks flushing light pink as a dulcet coo came out of her lips. You knew that look, just as quickly as it came the white on her cheeks faded back in. She smiled laughing off the temporary blush.

“Well, I like them more than b‐a‐n‐a‐n‐a‐s. I don’t know, its like two halves to a coin really. They’re good together but in any other circumstance, I don’t know. What can I say, I like the attention. They’re really nice girls.” Boo

“Fair enough, a friend in need and all that stuff.” Synapses firing in your head, it wasn’t going to be a far jump to find out where the Fry boys would be, forming the line to get them hooked would be a little more difficult, dangling a loved one was out of the question. They would f**k anything that moved most likely, but seeing the devil in the flesh might set them a stir. Something more low tempo wouldn’t work, where ever their play ground would happen to be would be best, broad daylight, where nobody would see a thing. Ego is a thing of beauty to one high on the horse of, “I’d do this if I were in your shoes.” Yes, you would posture and pander to the plan laid out. It was a weighty thing you were about to do. The Frys were new money in the Flats and wouldn’t be missed as much as they thought they would. Still it was unsettling that they would play this game as hard as they had been, something didn’t sit so well in the back of your head, your spider sense tingling, not a trap but something wicked roaring. Imposters to the crown would not be tolerated. There was a dark spot in the sky, not cloud cover; its edges jagged floating past the billowing white puffs drifting by. It cut through to night, the glint of starlight in its sheet semi obscured by the brightness of the day. “Get the sisters on the phone.”

“Roger, Wilco.” She was looking though binoculars across the salty plains. She dropped the scopes and hit the speed dial. You turned down the volume on the stereo. A quick answer and she stuck the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Maggie.” You looked at your sister, the thumbs up and a smile, you called the right name.

“Bubbie, you sound funny, what are you up to?” Margaret “It’s Barty, not Bubbie.”

“Barty! How are you? Are you coming to play tonight? Maddy its Barty.” Margret

“What’s going on tonight?”

“Whatever you want.” Margret

“Sounds like a fun time. What are the twins up to right now?”

“Ugh, just sunning at the Springs. Actually, you should come, I think someones want to see you. Emphasis on the s,” Margret.

“Really, Maggie you’re too good to me. Put your sister on the phone.” You rubbed the nape of your sister’s neck in excitement. Rustling on the other end of the phone.

“Mmmm, Hello,” Maddy purred out over the line.

“Hello Kitty. How are you pussycat?” You stifled a giggle trying to play dirty, your sister biting her tongue looking at you.

“Well, I’m wet, but everything is tight down here. Are you coming out tonight? You should come now. There are sharks in the water, you know, great white ones,” Maddy.

“Really. I’ll bring my spear gun.”

“I can’t wait to see you. Tell Bubbie we’re wearing candy stripes,” Maddy.

“Sounds sweet.”

“Besos Barty.” She clicked off the line. You blew your sister an air kiss.

“Your girlfriends are freaks, and I mean that in the most wonderful way possible.”

“See I’ve got good taste.” Boo

“I’ve never doubted you, darling,” you pinched her cheek. Boo let out a little squee and licked your finger. You cranked the volume on the stereo. Both of you head banging down the expressway, you leaned on the horn coming off of the exit ramp scurrying the cars ahead of you down onto the service road. The Los Los streets were all paved, smooth concrete covered blocks of restaurants and storefronts. Low story apartment buildings sat atop boutiques, the penthouses held in the hands of industry as trading pieces, most of them empty, fully furnished baiting in out of towners for part time work, the wonders of the new blue at your fingertips for a limited time only if you were willing to get in on the ground floor. Mid level buildings were revolving doors, short‐term leases, for rent on the lobby windows. It wasn’t the season for discounted terms just yet; no prices mounted below the billboards gave the burden to the buyer. “What are you in the mood for? No Caribbean food or Spanish food. Or Indian food. Something American and not California fusion, or Southwestern anything, and no f*****g salad bars or those tiny burgers, and somewhere with alcohol, beer or wine is alright too.”

“Pizza?”

“Oh yeah pizza.” You pulled a left off of Arc Boulevard into the Franctalio district. You squinted through the windshield for an open parking spot. The walkway’s trees were flowering. Even on the back side of the lunch rush the street was packed with cars snailing their way along, high end models and polished to mirror finish the lined the parallel spots separating street from sidewalk. You pulled into an opening under an arching tree. The block was hot with crowds of people waiting outside the eateries, “This was a terrible idea, Boo. We should have gotten Japanese or Chinese or something.” You pulled a cigarette from your pocket and lit it, Boo strutting along side you; she looped an arm around your waist.

“You’re always so negative, Bart, there’s a ten minute wait at Hammer & Hughes.” Boo

“F**k that, I just don’t understand why all these places are so crowded. It’s not like there isn’t a rapid delivery service, It’s like going to a night club on a Saturday night.”

“You need to work on your patience. See there, Dante’s is open, and it’s connected to a liquor store.” Boo

“F**k you, I’m a bastion of patience.”

“So, no Dante’s?” Boo

“Yeah Dante’s is nom. Let us.” You followed behind hand on her lower back guiding her through the door. “Get a table I’m gonna finish this.” She winked disappearing into the den. You surveyed the foot traffic behind your glasses in no rush to go in and be seated, Boo would be waited on hand and foot once you were inside, maybe even with a few drinks. The shifting sunlight bouncing off of passing cars threw glare onto the store fronts, living models standing as statues in full windows, the shoppers sizing themselves against the breathing bodies, the brass ring could be touched, you could try it on, maybe even take one home.

“How long is the line, gorgeous?” You didn’t notice the pair of middle aged men ogling next to you before they spoke, their eyes trained on your jacket lapels, the button up collar underneath undone hinting at skin beneath. You let out an exhale of smoke into their faces.

“I don’t f*****g work here go inside and ask.” Cigar smoke filling your face, one of them laughed you off.

“I’ll apologize for my friend, where do you work, I’m sure we could provide a little overtime. You’ve got a hell of a pair on you.” He lifted a hand to brush back a bang of your hair. You cupped the razor in your palm and grabbed a handful of his scalp pealing it back like an orange.

“And I don’t have a dick, but I’ll f**k you faster than that rabbit in a foot race with Sheldon.” You yanked forward ripping the skin leaving it flapping but still attached. He screamed, his friend dumb to the damage done laughing and shoveling the bleeding man past you down the sidewalk. You flicked your cigarette into the hood on the back of his blazer and entered Dante’s. The pizzeria was at half capacity, most of the host staff sitting at the bar pouring back drinks. You spied your sister at the center of the storm. She stroked her hair draped over her left shoulder into her lap. She was giving herself a mustache; something said in an accent, men laughing, she rocked back in her chair glancing over her shoulder. You came forward through the crowd, kissed her on the temple.

“And then, I ate all the peaches, and that farmer was so angry.” She put on a gruff voice. The bartender laughed out loud, her face turning an even deeper crimson under the red bar lights, the staff all‐dark skinned, their mouths blood red in laughter.

“Where did you find this girl, I don’t know how but she sounds just like my grandpa, I can’t even breath good anymore.” She took a shot of black alcohol. “F**k, I can’t even speak properly,” she chased it with a shot of red.

“She’s an alien,” you took a seat.
“I wish my sister was an alien.” An effeminate host to your left. “My sister is a f*****g c**t,” another host.

“Space cookie?” host.

“C**t punt,” host.

“Vaginal fungus among us,” host.

“Quiet peanuts.” The bartender. “I’m Jacqueline, what can I get you?” The hosts dispersed waving and blowing kisses to Boo as they manned the entrance. She fanned her hair at them for goodbyes.

“Give me a Let Down Blonde.” Jacqueline took leave down the bar to fill your glass. “When she gets back, I want a large garlic, potato, pepperoni, with buffalo mozzarella. I’m gonna call the goon squad.”

“Hello, Missus Hungry, can I call you so? Oh, tell them to go by the house and get my swimsuit. The one piece. Are you wearing black? We can match.” She was still calling out orders as you walked. No one answering their respective phones, you sent a group text, location and time, and back to the bar. Your beer was waiting, the red light above the bar extinguished and Jacqueline performing a close inspection of your sister’s face. They were nearly nose‐to‐ nose. Jacqueline running fingers through Boo’s hair when you sat down, eyeing you for a reaction.

“My pizza, Jackie?”

“We never made it that far.” Boo

“She’s just got the most gorgeous eyes.” Jacqueline

“She wants a large pepperoni, garlic and potato pizza with buffalo mozzarella.” Boo gave her a little kiss on the lips. “I want,” Your phone vibrating in your pocket, Ren, dante’s? order something good we’re on our way. Jane, yeah we’re on our way. Kaite, Tell your sister I’m taking her headdress. You looked up from the matters at hand, Jackie had disappeared, a bottle of champagne between Boo and yourself in her absence.

“You’re sixteen.”

“I know right, what does that say about our educational system.” She turned the bottle up to her lips and took a big drink, her cheeks puffed, she was in the process of biting off more than she could chew. You watched her struggle with the bubbles trying to escape her nose before erupting in froth and coughs over the bar. You patted her on the back. She brought her head up laughing, tears running down her cheeks, you hugged your little sister tight to your chest letting yourself fall into the joke.

“Where did you get a headdress from?” She hiccupped in your chest, warm slobber dripping down your skin, you pushed her off of you. Boo giggled spinning around on her stool.

“That depends, which headdress are you referring to. I’ve got oh so much headgear you know. You haven’t seen my room in a while have you?” You sipped your beer licking the white crest from your lip clean.

“I’m remiss.” This gremlin sitting next to you pawed in a world as distant as those words. The bar around you filling with men in dark suits, the clamor of places nonexistent to you. They moved in your shadow keeping faces hid behind sunglasses and clouds of cigar smoke. You poured beer down your throat, belching loud after the last drip ran out. You took a blunt from your jacket and felt behind the bar for matches, another bottle of champagne in the process, you took both and lit the end of your smokeable. Eyes slashing at the sides of your head, they turned as you caught them whipping back to gaze on the other side of the empty bar. You popped the cork and refilled your glass. You passed it to Boo, breathed in deep on the blunt and held it till on release only the slightest haze lifted itself to the lights. She gave a little applause, extending her hand for her turn. “Puff puff, Boorigard.” You took another hit and passed the burning leaf. Her white hair in halo with the backdrop of her hat blocking the faces behind her, she was even paler inside this cave, pink lips around the end of the cigar she filled her lungs with smoke, letting it leak out of her nostrils, her deep black eyes disappearing underneath heavy lids, and another. She sipped from her flute of champagne, ashing into a half finished beer next to her, she blew a smoke ring around your head with her second exhale. “I wish I had my camera, we need more pictures.”

You and Boo were through three bottles of champagne and six beers between you when you felt the grip of soft fur locking around your forehead and draping over your shoulders. You ran your hand along curling ram horns mounted to the sides. There was no mirror to view yourself. You turned into the camera flash, Jane behind the lens, Ren in sunglasses and bikini top underneath black plaid button up shirt. Several more flashes as you put on your glasses to block the light from blinding you, cigar gripped between your teeth, you grabbed Kaite off of Boo and into the frame. The din of early dinner professionals abounded, you missed the first couple of words coming out of Jane’s mouth as she lowered her camera. Kaite lifted your crown and placed it on her head. You offered up the last slices of pizza, Ren hugging you taking a seat, Jane and Kaite stealing seats on the other side of Boo.

“I’ve got your suit, I smell pot,” she fired up her own spliff. “Could you warm this up?” she snapped at Jacqueline down the bar filling beers, “She didn’t hear me,” she stuck up two fingers waving her down. She was surveying the empty champagne bottles eyeing you up and down. “Why are there so many people here?”

“It was like this up and down the street when we got over here.” Jackie dropping off two more beers and a bottle of champagne to the other girls.

“Can you chop some chilies and put a slice of that in the oven.” Jackie threw a soft salute to Ren, disappearing into the kitchen. “I didn’t know GT Jacqueline worked here. Small world.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Yes, you do, she’s been serving you drinks. GT stands for Game Time, guess why.” Ren

“That’s charming, she must be good at sports.”

“Very funny.” Ren

“She loves Boo.”

“I don’t think you had to tell me that. I don’t see you ordering four bottles of champagne, at least not on a weekday. I don’t know stranger things have happened.” You got a text, Kaite; Game Time Jackie Gloucester is our bartender. “I’m swimming right now.” Ren

“I thought something was up.”

“Go put on your swim suit, lets get out of here.” Ren “Word, Boo come on let’s go.”