Read Jackie's Week Online

Authors: M.M. Wilshire

Tags: #fast car, #flashbacks, #freedom, #handgun, #hollywood, #meditation, #miracles, #mob boss, #police dog, #psychology, #ptsd, #recovery, #revenge, #romance, #stalker, #stress disorder, #victim, #violence

Jackie's Week (9 page)

BOOK: Jackie's Week
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"Oh my God, Johnson! You are pathetic. You’re
just lonely, that’s all. And do you know how I know that? I know
that because you think I’m the reason you’re feeling lonely, but it
can’t be, because you don’t really know anything about me. Not the
first blessed thing! Do you ever wonder what I do all day? Well, I
will tell you. I drink vodka and I vacuum all morning. Then I get
the paper. The rest of the afternoon, I sit on the couch and watch
court TV. After that, I read the paper, and then I go to bed and
watch old movies. Am I getting through to you! Me! Vacuum!
Vodka!"

"That’s okay with me," he said.

"Then you are an idiot. What kind of life
could we possibly have together?"

"Well," he said. "That’s a good question. The
truth is, I kind of have this fantasy in my head about what it
would be like. In my fantasy, if it ever came about that we found
ourselves together, then I would take an early retirement. I
wouldn’t have much money, but I have a friend who lives in a
trailer on 20 acres in Dos Palos and breeds police dogs, and he
wants to partner up with me. We’d move to Dos Palos and live in a
double-wide somewhere on the 20 acres and train the dogs. We could
live like country folks. Once in a while, we’d get in the pickup
and go into town and browse around the Rexall Drug. I’d probably
buy you some candy."

"That’s it? That’s your big plan? A dog ranch
in Dos Palos?"

"It’s not as bad as it sounds. Dos Palos is
quiet. No hustle and no bustle. It’s a respectable farming hub east
of Interstate 5, in the middle of nowhere. The main crops out there
are mosquitoes and whiteflies, I think. They don't even farm
anymore, since the Enviros shut off their water to protect some
kind of fish. Then you have the weather. The summer heat is
absolutely blistering. Then you get a nice fall season followed by
about three months of dense fog, followed by a spring full of
allergens."

"And there we would be, waiting to sell a dog
so we could buy groceries," Jackie said.

"No," Johnson said. "Because there is decent
money in police dogs. There’s a good demand not only in Los
Angeles, but also in the Bay Area."

"Just suppose we were living in that double
wide," Jackie replied. You, of course, would be busy with your
dogs. But exactly what the hell would I be doing all day?"

"I don’t know. You could vacuum all day,
drink vodka and watch court TV same as you do now. Or you could
become a country girl. Learn to ride a horse. Join a crafts club
with the other farm ladies. You could even learn to work with the
dogs."

"That ain’t going to happen. By the way,
Johnson, I can’t believe how fast you gobble up your food. You eat
like a dog. You don’t chew, you gulp. It’s not an appealing
sight."

"I think it’s a cop thing," he said. "A
rookie learns to do it. I can’t count the meals I’ve tossed out the
car window when a trouble call came in."

"I can cook," she said.

"Oh really?"

"It used to be my passion. So there’s
something, at least. After a hard day of working the dogs, you
could come home and find me in the kitchen wearing nothing but an
apron and cowboy boots, whipping up something divine."

"That certainly puts trailer life in a new
light."

"Yes it does. And after dinner, we could fold
away the dining table and trip the light fantastic. But before we
get to that point, you’d have to learn to eat like a human being,
slowly, and not try to talk with your mouth full."

"I suppose I could take a class or
something," he said.

"I’ve never dated an older man before," she
said.

"I’ve been waiting for that to come up," he
said. "But we’re only eight years apart. It’s not that big a deal,
is it?"

"I don’t know. I really don’t. Do you still
have your prostate?"

"Yes," he said. "Oh hell. I knew it wouldn’t
work out," he said. "Right now, I’d give anything to be younger. Or
at least have more hair."

"That’s very sweet, Johnson."

"No. Not sweet. Desperate is more like
it."

"I’ll spill another secret," she said. "Every
night, I have this terrible dream. I have to re-live Bout attacking
me. But quite often, in that very dream, you appear and attempt to
rescue me."

"I do want to rescue you," he said.

"Well I hope you do better in real life,
because in the dream you always fail."

"I won’t fail in real life."

"Well, I have just learned something,
Johnson. This is not Casablanca, final scene. We aren’t walking
into the mist at the start of a beautiful friendship. What we have
here instead is an L.A. classic movie. Two very lonely people,
entirely wrong for each other, who want to shamelessly use each
other and damn the future consequences. I want to use you to feel
safe, and you’re a lonely old fart who wants to stoke the fires one
last time. I should walk away right now, but in spite of your
terrible table manners, I am not going to flat out reject you. I
will give it some serious thought."

"Do you mean that?"

She took a final sip of iced tea and stood
up. "Yes I do. And to prove it, I’m going to do something really
stupid right now. Brace yourself."

"I’m ready."

"Johnson, would you like to go out with me
tonight? On a real date? Actually, it’s a double date with my
sister and her husband, but one where you would be required to make
table talk and not eat like a dog. Will you?"

"You know I will," he said. "Now I have to
ask you something else. Do you know anything at all about the guy
who was killed in the dumpster?"

"No," Jackie said.

Johnson laughed softly. "Jackie, I have been
lied to for thirty years by experts. You are no expert. We both
know your bodyguard was involved. I am going to run interference
for you, tell the guys working that case you don't know
anything."

"You'd do that for me?"

"I just did."

 

Chapter 16

 

Jackie arrived at Black’s office building 15
minutes early to find the doctor waiting for her in the lobby.

"Where’s Donna?" Black asked. "She’s supposed
to be your shadow."

"Oh, she went next door for a cup of coffee,"
Jackie lied. "I’m going to call her when we’re done here."

"I got your stat blood work back," Black
said. "Your liver function tests were at the high end of normal.
It’s really something of a miracle. You need to quit the alcohol or
you’re going to wind up with cirrhosis. I’m comfortable enough with
your liver tests, however, to start you on a trial of Paxil to help
with the anxiety and depression. And here’s a prescription for
iron, vitamins and a potassium supplement."

"I really just want medication to stop the
flashbacks," Jackie said.

"Unfortunately," Black replied, "there isn’t
a medication to guarantee that."

"There isn’t?"

"No. I’m sorry, but there just isn’t. But
your biggest problem isn’t flashbacks. Your biggest problem is
anxiety. It's the anxiety that triggers the flashbacks. That
explains why you’ve been medicating yourself with alcohol, which is
the classic—and worst, medicine. Later, I will teach you some
simple medication techniques to use when you feel the flashback
coming."

"Dr. Black, I told the police I wasn't ready
to pick Bout out of the lineup. I know you don’t want me doing the
lineup the cops had planned. I’m not ready to face Bout. But I feel
guilty for being so weak."

"Forgive yourself, Jackie. You’re under a lot
of stress. You need to take it slow. If the lineup becomes
absolutely necessary, I will help you deal with it."

"Would you go with me?"

"I might. But for now, let’s go take a
ride."

"Where to?"

"No place in particular. We’ll just drive
around and talk. I got a new car and I don’t feel like sitting
indoors." Minutes later they were cruising down Ventura in Black’s
brand new blue granite metallic three-quarter ton Suburban 4x4.

"Don’t speed," Jackie said. "There’s a cop
following us."

"Police protection?"

"I call it protection-lite. He’s there
somewhere, but you never see him." She examined the interior. "Ah,
that new car smell. Is this the new ‘green’ technology?"

"Hardly," Black said.

"But what about the melting ice caps?"

"All that science is phony," Black said.
"Those hacked E-mails should have proved that to any thinking
person. And I should drive a Malibu? God forbid!"

"Well funny thing," Jackie replied. "I used
to own a Malibu. But I'm done going green. Last night I went all in
on a red Lexus. The racing model. Apparently you inspired me to get
on with the rest of my life."

"Apparently," Black said.

"Dr. Black, I think your brother Bobby killed
someone."

They got immediately stuck in stop and go
traffic. Black was silent for several moments.

"Tell me about a time when you were afraid of
something besides Viktor Bout," Black said.

"Dr. Black, did you hear what I just
said?"

"Like you said earlier, Jackie, you have to
answer my questions, but I don't have to answer yours."

"Okay. Well to answer yours, I remember being
very afraid after the Northridge quake," Jackie said. "My house
lost its chimney, and everybody was living in terror of those
horrible aftershocks, do you remember them?"

"Do I! They scared the hell out of me! So
when you felt afraid, what did you do?"

"What could I do? I went shopping. I drove
over to Melrose and blew 150 bucks on a pair of red mules. I put
them on and traipsed in and out of the shops. That pair of red
mules was my way of showing everybody I was going to make it."

"Sometimes a pair of red mules is what it
takes," Black agreed.

"It was the day I met Al," Jackie said. "The
guy I wasted the last four-and-a-half years of my life with. I
wandered into Wacko’s, and I saw a guy buying this inflatable
Japanese monster and I laughed out loud. He looked at me and said,
"Nice shoes", so I said, "Nice inflatable. Do you have anything
else that inflates?" We both broke up laughing."

"That is hysterical," Black said,
smiling.

"I think we laughed away the entire
earthquake. Afterwards we felt hungry, so we caravanned over to
Pink’s and gorged out on chili dogs. No Freudian symbolism there.
It turned out he had a house in the district over in Gower gulch.
The jerk drove a Rolls Royce. I was so impressed. That's where we
first made love. In the back seat of his Rolls. We didn't even wait
to go inside."

"How’d he make his money?"

"His dad started a big scrap iron business in
the 30's, when all the dust-bowl people descended on this place in
their falling-apart cars. Al succeeded him."

"So where is Al now?"

"Gone like an old shoe. Al was the reason I
was at Gelson’s the night I got attacked. I used to be something of
a gourmet cook and I was planning a special New Year’s Eve dinner
for him. But instead I gotten beaten to death. After that, Al
couldn’t handle it. He broke up with me."

"Ouch," Black said. "So what I am hearing is,
when you find yourself feeling scared about something, you escape
into a new relationship."

And I seem to be doing it again, Jackie
thought. Should I tell her about Johnson?

"Somebody got into the garlic," Black said,
changing the subject.

"Sorry. I had an amazing lunch today at this
stir-fry joint near the police station."

"I’m glad to hear you’re eating. Especially
garlic. You’ll find some breath mints in the glove box."

Jackie leaned forward and opened the glove
box. The light in the box came on and illuminated the heavy black
frame of a huge revolver. "Doctor Black!"

Vzjat’ na abordaž. The flashback raced
through her mind like wildfire, forcing her back to the supermarket
parking lot. My God, my God, she thought. She felt the man drop,
knee-first, on top of her, felt his hideous weight, experienced the
pain as his knees crushed her arms into the broken glass on the
pavement.

"Jackie!" Black shouted.

"Whew," Jackie whispered. "The sight of your
gun set me off."

"The gun triggered a flashback, because you
were raped by one. But you are not helpless. Jackie. Listen to me.
You are not helpless. I want you to reach forward and close the
glove box."

After a moment, Jackie, with trembling hand,
reached forward and shut the glove box and the gun was no longer in
sight.

"Good," said Dr. Black. "Take some deep
breaths. You did very well."

"I keep going back. It’s unfair. I’ve died a
thousand times since it happened."

"You found the strength to close the glove
box. It’s the second time you’ve fought back. Now you can see why I
want Donna with you. And why I don’t want you driving just yet.
Eventually, you will learn to handle the flashbacks better. There
are techniques. The main thing right now is to understand that as
bad as they are, they aren’t real, and they can’t kill you, and you
can fight back and have a life."

Black suddenly swung the SUV left onto
Hayvenhurst and into the Gelson’s supermarket parking lot.

"Dr. Black! What do you think you’re
doing?"

"Jackie. We won’t leave the safety of the
car. We’re going to drive by the spot where you were attacked."

"I can’t breathe."

"It's just the adrenaline. Slow down and take
deep breaths. I’ll drive slowly around—and when you’re ready, you
can point out the spot."

"But it’s not safe here."

"Six months ago it wasn’t safe. Today is
different. Today it still isn’t safe, but you are with me. We are
in a big safe vehicle with a gun. You have a bodyguard. So you are
as safe as can be. Besides, you already had your flashback. You
probably won’t have another for at least 12 more hours. You’re in a
window, right now, where you can get out and make a life."

BOOK: Jackie's Week
13.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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