more than they love new lace panties, but she had to know that when she reached out to me I took it seriously. Cruising past the large fenced park there were lots of happy pooches but no Kelly. She might have taken the dog down for a cup of coffee. Or she was asleep in her apartment with her earplugs in. Whatever, I was sure she’d call me sometime that night, all apologetic and chump that I am, I’d say it was no big.
Back in my bungalow I poured myself a tall McCallans. The scotch cost forty-five bucks a bottle, but a man has to have some extravagances. Sitting in my lazy-boy I cranked up U2. Bono was singing about a girl packing for a trip to a place none of us had ever been before. I couldn’t get Kelly out of my head, as if the song was about her. I saw her standing in an empty airport late at night, a cheap suitcase in her hand. Maybe it wasn’t her I was worried about, maybe it was me. Was Piper right? Did I think Kelly was my ticket to a normal life?
No, it was more, she stood for hope, hope that the whole planet wasn’t full of cheap scams and low-class trades. She was real in a life full of fake. Fake tits, fake passion, fake vows given to fake friends. Everyone looked out for Number One and everything was for sale if you just knew the price. But not Kelly. She was the only person I counted as a true friend, and I had never seen the inside of her apartment. What did that say about my life? We spent so much time in the dressing room chatting, goofing off, sharing take-out, that rumors spread that we were lovers. Most of the dancers had no reference point for a man and woman being friends. Fuck them if they didn’t get it. Hell I didn’t get it, what did she see in me that was worth her time? Finishing my drink I dialed her number, more busy signal. Not good. Climbing onto my bike I headed the Norton back to Silverlake.
Night fell soft and gentle as I moved up the apartment building stairs. I was moving quietly but not enough to avoid the watchful eyes of the white haired sentry, when she saw me looking at her she stepped quickly back behind the protection of her curtains.
There were no lights on in Kelly’s apartment. After knocking I pulled out a thin piece of stainless steel. It was the size of a credit card. As long as the dead bolt wasn’t set, it would open any door. Slipping the card into the doorjamb, I felt it click, and the door opened. Stepping into her apartment uninvited, I knew it was a betrayal. But, if nothing was wrong, she’d never have to know I’d been there. Sweeping the living room with my Maglite I could see it was a nice, friendly room as inviting as her smile. She had an overstuffed sofa with an old-fashioned floral print slipcover. A framed print of water-lilies hung over the sofa, it was a Monet; I could tell because it said so under it. A scarred coffee table held a small ghetto blaster and a stack of cd’s. What was missing was any of the normal flotsam and jetsam one collects in life. No books or knick-knacks, no memorabilia, nothing to personalize this apartment to Kelly. The kitchen was tidy, a few dishes in the sink but other than that everything was in its place. In a dish-drainer were four plates, in the cupboard, four water glasses stood next to four coffee mugs, all matching and relatively new. It made me embarrassed to think of the Salvation Army rejects that filled my shelves.
Opening the bedroom door I moved the light across the tan carpet and up onto the bed and across her pale feet. She was lying sprawled naked on a daisy print comforter, she looked peaceful as if she’d fallen asleep with her head resting on a rust red stain. The world skipped a beat slipping sync for a moment. She was Sleeping Beauty, this was a cartoon; any moment seven dwarves would burst through the door. I felt myself drifting in and out of my body for a moment as I looked down at her, no way this was real. I pulled the light off her face hoping that when I looked back she would be fine, but I found myself staring at the wall, it was splattered with blood, hair, bone chips and gray matter. Facts. Hard cold facts. From splatter to victim. No entry wound on her face. I could see it go down. They had forced her to suck on the barrel before they pulled the trigger. Entry wound back of her throat, exit wound back of her skull. I traveled down her body. Her left nipple was hanging on by a ragged piece of skin. They used pliers on her. Random small brown circles on both breasts, her belly… they burned her with a thin cigar too large to be a cigarette too small to be a robusto. A browning red stain smeared from her pubic hair down to her thigh. Jesus Christ they… back to her face. Her lifeless green eyes stared up at me. My knees went weak, I slipped to the floor, tears rolling out of my eyes. I hadn’t cried in years. I felt the weight of it all pressing down on me. In this whole shitty world couldn’t they leave this one perfect flower alone?
I don’t know how long I sat there, but slowly out of the darkness a sound found its way to me. It was a soft whimper coming from behind the bathroom door. Crawling to my feet I opened the door. A four-month old strawberry blonde puppy bounced out. She had huge paws and a wrinkled loose skinned sloppy face. Her wild wagging tail swung her butt around as she showed me her joy at being set free. Suddenly, the pup stopped dead still and stared at the bed. Tail and head down she edged towards her dead mistress. She sniffed the hand that hung off the bed. Gently the pup licked Kelly’s limp hand.
Leaning over, I kissed Kelly’s cold lips. The last thing on her mouth should be a kiss, not a gun. Looking down at Kelly I wiped the tears off my face and felt myself go cold. Tears never helped anyone, tears were a luxury for folks living in safe little houses watching flicks about kids with cancer. Out here in the real world, they didn’t do shit. Taking a dish towel from the kitchen I methodically moved through the apartment wiping my prints clean from every place I had touched. Using the towel to open the front door I was almost out when I felt eyes on me, the damn pup. Looking out from the bedroom with those big lost eyes. “What the hell do you want me to do with you, huh?” I said. The pup looked at me with a depth of sadness I had never seen in a dog so young. “Fine, come on then, but I swear to God the first time you piss in my house I’ll sell you to the taco truck.” She didn’t resist as I picked her up, she crawled up to look over my shoulder, watching her dead mistress all the way out of the apartment. The damn beast weighed at least forty pounds and was well on her way towards monsterhood. But one look in those sad eyes told me her heart was even bigger than her massive paws.
I called the cops from a pay phone outside a liquor store. When they asked for my name I said it was Tom Waits, and that I lived at the corner of Heart Attack and Vine.
Climbing onto my Norton I nestled the pup under my leather jacket and rode towards home. A heart-shaped tag on her collar read Angel, no phone number no address. No evidence to lead anyone back to her mistress. John Q Straight put his name on everything he owns, but fringe dwellers know better. Kelly knew it. Information is power so don’t give any out for free. I didn’t save Kelly, I guess caring for her dog was the best I could do… I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Wind whipped at my face and Angel snuggled down against my chest. I had seen death before. As a soldier in that mess they called a war, I had even caused it. Somehow this was different. She mattered more than all the rest, maybe because she wouldn’t matter to anyone else, not the cops, I knew how hard they would try for a dead cocktail waitress from a strip joint. Not the straight world, to them the women of my world were as expendable as last night’s condom. But she mattered…If only to me and the goddamn dog.
Pounding down Highway 2 where it rose up over the 5, the Girls Girls Girls sign of Club Xtasy winked up at me from forty feet below. At seventy MPH, it would only take a flick of the handle bars to send me slamming into the low freeway wall. One quick crunch of metal and I’d be soaring out over the LA river headed for the great beyond where crap like this was all a dull memory. My knuckles went white on the hand grips. The will to survive battling it out with desire for oblivion. The pup trembled under my leather coat, it was as if she could sense how close we were to ending it all. Taking her with me wasn’t part of a deal I was willing to make. Carry your own water, leave the innocent be and if you have to step off the board do it alone. No passengers for that ride. We come in alone, we go out alone, end of story. Breathing out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding I loosened my grip. The green of Forest Lawn on my right, the brown green of Mount Washington on my left, and ahead in the distance the steep peaks of Angeles Crest. Just when you’re ready to burn it to the ground and walk away, this aging bitch we call a city can still catch you off guard with her beauty. Sure, she’s only a tarted up old whore, but when the light is right and you squint just a little, she looks young and fresh and almost hopeful.
I pulled down an old sleeping bag and made a nest for Angel on the floor. After three or four therapeutic scotches, I curled up in bed and hoped for the noise in my head to stop. There was a thump on the foot of the bed as Angel pulled herself up. She curled up very small and didn’t look at me, like maybe I wouldn’t notice her if our eyes didn’t meet. I closed my eyes until they were only open a slit and watched her as she ever so slowly crawled forward, finally resting her head on the pillow next to mine. Only then did she fall asleep. I wasn’t so lucky. I lay for a long time in the dark haunted by my fallen friend’s face. Haunted by what I knew of her last hours, by what I should have done…She reached out to me and I had failed her. I blew her off to play the hero for Piper and collect a lap dance. While I was squirting in my jeans, some freak was raping her. She was dying while I sat at the bar fucking with Turaj. If only I had gone straight to her place… If only… if… When at last I fell asleep it was listening to the rhythmic breathing of the pup.
