The Life of Lol (12 page)

What the fuck is wrong with me”, she thought, unable to wipe away the thought of Groucho holding the little kitten in his hand.  She checked on Horace.  For once, he wasn’t staring her malevolently, but mewled sadly.  The other two kittens seemed fine. 

Taylor was still in the bar the morning after, curled up on the floor at the side of Horace and his infants.  Jack would be here soon.  She placed the body of Horace jr in a small bag and put him in her jacket pocket.  He had been her friend, if only for a night.  He would be her secret.

Chapter 16.  Living dangerously

At first he seemed like a real sleaze, with his hair in a ponytail.  Jack had shrugged off the cat story. As long as Horace was ok and didn’t bug him too much, he didn’t really care.  Feeling cross and a little sensitive still, she found herself telling the story to this TV exec.  He held her hand across the bar, and said,

“I’m sorry, ok.  I know women think I’m a jerk, but cats are like my best friends.  My wife walked out and left me after I couldn’t get her a gig on the Lepowitz show, but Thomas my cat.  He just keeps showing up every morning after a night chilling with a senorita on the beach.

“Beach?” she asked, wondering where the beach was in this city.

“Oh”, he said, “no.  I’m from California.  I line in LA, beachfront apartment.”

“Sounds nice”, she said somewhat wistfully, dreaming that maybe a move to somewhere less dank could figure in her plans eventually.

“You should come out”, he said, “you have a good look and a gorgeous accent.  Maybe I could get you on the Lepowitz show huh, really piss my wife off”

That made Tay laugh, god how she needed to laugh.  She had felt hurt when jack hadn’t given a shit about Horace’s kitten.  Then there was the drug deal.  Even though Jack didn’t know about the drug deal, it was something that was unsaid that went between them and had widened a gulf.

“So how about it?” he repeated.

“What the hell am I gonna do in LA”, she said smiling.

“Well for a start, you’d come out of yourself, you’d be living in the sunshine instead of in this depressing dank pit of a bar in a depressing city.”

“Same dank pit of a bar as you” she pointed out.

“Yeah”, he agreed, but guess what?  I can go home tonight.  You have to come back tomorrow.”

I couldn’t get to LA anyway”, she said, “I kind of have things I need to do here.  Ties.”

She looked at Jack as he was watching her from the other side of the bar,

“Oh yeah”, he said quietly, “You’re the gangsters girl huh?”

“I ain’t nobody’s girl baby”, she said angrily, “I’m my own person”

“Well then”, he said, “you want to come to LA and I’ll hook you up with some auditions and a couple of opportunities, or not?”

Taylor decided against it.  Nevertheless, the man gave her his card in case she changed her mind.  She didn’t think she would.  LA did sound more fun than this depressing shit hole, but she knew how to work this shithole.  Give her half a chance and she could rake it in here.  Leave the move till later.  Stay with the shit she knew.  LA would have been quite a challenge.  It would have to be quite a bomb drop to make her leave easy street.

A couple days later, she had a visitor.  She was heading out for lunch for once, to see what her city had to offer.  Normally, she either skipped lunch of had some tasteless microwave crap that Jack bought in for them to eat.  But today she wanted something different, and was feeling slightly adventurous.  So she found a bagel bar on the corner of ninth, not too far away.  She stood looking around.  The commercial district was getting run down now, the paint on the subway station nearby was peeling off, and even the city buses that kept roaring past constantly were in dire need of a wash.  At that moment, someone tapped her on the shoulder gently, and instantly her hand went to the gun she kept permanently in her jacket pocket,

“Easy little tiger”, the voice said beside her, “I been looking all over for Zimo’s girl. 

“Hey Dawg” she said nervously, “don’t see you this side of town so much”

“yeah well”, he tailed off, “Business been a bit hot recently.  Had to relocate.  See old Zimo got himself whacked?”

“yeah”, said Taylor sadly, “Knew Zimo since we was kids”.

“Zimo’s girl, huh?” he said smiling, “not any more.  Guess you’re unemployed now huh?”

“I got this thing going in a bar”, she admitted, “running a book, credit cards, that sort of thing.”

“Thing is”, said Dawg, finishing off his bagel, “I got me a problem.  Zimo was gonna lend me a nice girl, Alisha was her name?  For a few jobs, that’s sort of thing.  First one up at the state weigh station.  Got a problem with one of my trucks”

“How the hell Zimo’s girl gonna help with that?” she asked.

“Well”, considered Dawg, “she was gonna be busy doing her ‘thing’ distracting the guy who runs that operation, while my guy takes back the truck that’s been so unfairly and unjustly impounded.”

“Unfair and unjust, huh?” Tay smiled, “that’s life buddy”

“Isn’t it just”, he nodded, “My pineapples are going off”

“Pineapples?” she asked.

“Indeed”, he nodded, “a truck loaded full of crates of pineapples.  Fresh from the farm in the south”

“Why the hell you want pineapples?” she asked.

“Fruit is good for you”, he said mysteriously, “build the bones, assists the spirit in conquering the obstacles of the world.  Oh, and the citric acid of the fruit hides the smell of the cocaine bags hidden inside each one.  Sniffer dogs burn their poor little motherfucking noses out.  Such a shame for them”

“And you got impounded?” laughed Tay, “so now you’re royally fucked?”

“I got impounded because of an idiot truck driver who had failed to renew his drivers licence”, dawg said ruefully, “now the truck is impounded.  The paperwork to impound it will take three to four days, by which time my pineapples will be going off and giving away their secrets.”

“So, let me get this straight.  You need a girl to distract the impound guy while some guy steals a truck full of pineapples, am I on the right lines there?”

“That’s about the size of it”, he admitted, “you up for it, Zimo’s girl?”

“hell yeah”, she said smiling, I need a good laugh.  I can’t wait to see a dozen cop cars racing off up the hill after a pineapple truck.  That should be a fucking hoot.”

“Not really”, he replied, “straight across from the weigh station, across the interstate is a small road leading out of the city.  The driver will follow this, take a sharp left onto an access road and into a camp. From time to time, I use this area, you know what I mean.  They’ll show the driver the way to go.  No police will follow him.”

“Sounds like you might get your pineapples after all”, she said.

He nodded.

And just like that, yet another door opens.  Life was beginning to give her opportunities.  Dawg didn’t realise she’d never been ‘Zimo’s girl’ as she’d said.  But now, if she played her cards right, she might end up in the employ of Dawg.  She knew sometimes that these black gangsters liked to have a white blonde girl on their arm, she figured it was a racial thing, but didn’t know or care what.  Money coming in was the most important thing, and a truck full of pineapples stuffed with cocaine was like having your own fucking printing press. 

And so here she was, the day after, sat in a rental car supplied by Dawg, parked in the car park belonging to ‘Happy Al’s diner’.  She was on the interstate, outside the city where the land was hilly and featureless, and covered with a kind of yellow grass.  She’d grabbed a burger and a beer, retreating back to her car to eat and wait for the time, ignoring the hoots and cat calls.  Course, the bikers that had descended on happy Al’s approved, no doubt of her sexy booty, bad girl looks and leather jacket but she didn’t have time to play with them today.  Not that it wasn’t tempting.  John was a good attentive lover, but sometimes she missed a bit of rough stuff.  Now wasn’t the time, she chided herself.  Maybe she could hop back up here some other time and get herself handcuffed to some handlebars.  She shook her head again, boredom making her as horny as hell now.  To while away the time, she lit up a spliff, and inhaled deep on the fumes, closing her eyes as the dope took effect.

Where the fuck was this guy?  He was supposed to meet her just after noon, well it was after two now, and the guy was walking round the truck with the fucking dog, and looking like he might start fucking about the merchandise.  The truck driver guy had to come to her, Dawg had given her the goddamed key to the semi.  She tried to call dawg, but the cell was off.  Fuck.  The guy wasn’t coming, or if he was, he was gonna come too late. Sighing to herself she took a last slug of beer, finished her joint and got out of the car.  The Interstate was a bitch to cross, and in the end, Taylor just shut her eyes and ran like fuck, narrowly missing being hit by a tour bus full of pensioners.  Cursing the missed opportunity to moon the old fuckers as they stared at the gilr who had nearly killed herself on the road, she sauntered in through the open gate of the weigh station.  The guyw as near the office, bent down petting the dog.  His vehicle, a jeep, was parked next to the office.  For a moment, she wondered whether or not to try to get the keys to the jeep, but at that moment, the guy noticed her and waved,

“Hello there?” he shouted, coming over, “this is private property.  Sorry Ma’am”

“What” she shouted back, I can’t hear you sugar, I just came for ma daddies truck.  He needs something big and hard to shove up my mammas ass to clear her backlog and them pineapples are perfect”

Smiling to herself, she unlocked the truck door with the key dawg had given her and jumped inside.  A semi wasn’t a problem.  She’d drove one before.  Allen and her had once drove off in a  garbage truck while high on crack one night.  This was the same principle.  Slab fronted, about seventeen years old, eighteen wheels.  She slammed the door shut, turned the key, selected a gear and floored it.

It responded slower than a dead armadillo, and the guy was nearly up to her by the time she was out the gate,

“ma-am”, he banged on the door, “this vehicle is impounded.  Stop immediately, you’re committing a felony”

“sorry sweetheart”, she shouted back, my mamma needs her pineapples” and gunned the semi-truck through the gate, feeling a sudden twinge of what?  Pain?  Something tugged at her strings at the word mamma.  Something she’d never known.

“Can’t miss what you never had” she murmured.

Course one thing she had to miss was eight lines of traffic as she crossed the interstate, skidded and bounced the semi onto a side road at the side of Happy Al’s.  She gave a friendly toot to the bikers, who waved at the crazy blonde chick in the fruit truck.  Tay didn’t know how many cars had skidded to a halt and nearly collided behind her, and she didn’t care.  Sure, she’d driven a truck before, but this fucker was just so big.  With a wrench of metal, the tailgate of the trailer tore away the fence of Happy Al’s and sent in scattering into the road.  Attempting to keep the thing on the right side of the road and avoid causing too much attention, she listened.  No sirens yet.  Thank fuck, this thing was slow.  And old man in a  fucking wheelchair could beat it up a hill. 

At that point, Taylor’s phone rang.  Risking life and limb and steering with one hand, she answered it.  It was Dawg.  Looking out the window, the cop guy was now in his jeep and she could hear sirens catching her.  Shit.

“Hi dawg?  How’s things?” she said airily.

“yeah”, he drawled, “ain’t too bad.  Got some bad news though.”

“Speak up honey”, Taylor laughed, “I can’t hear ya for the damned cop sirens.”

“Cop sirens?” Dawg asked.

“yeah, ya know…nee naw nee naw” she answered.  This fucker was getting closer.  The road was on an incline, and the truck had been getting slower and slower.  Thankfully, just as the road opened out, the hill finished and gave way to a steep drop.  Hitting the gearstick into high, she gunned the rig and it tore down the incline.

“Why the hell are you bein chased by the cops?” Daw asked, his voice growing in irritation, “tell me you’re not in that goddamed truck”

“I could baby”, said Taylor, “But my mamma always told me never to tell no lies otherwise my nose would just grow and grow.”

“I called to tell you”, dawg sighed, “that the driver had been held up in traffic, but he was on his way.”

“It’s ok baby”, she laughed, “I’m on this.  I’m just going down the hill on highway 19 past Happy Al’s”

“Then you’re on the right road”, he said, when the road flattens out, you come to a three way intersection, take the road straight on, and slightly to the left.  Carry on until you’re level with the hill, then turn when you get to the storm cutting in the hillside”

“What’ll I do when I’m there”, she said?

“I got employees waiting”, he said, “that’s the rendezvous.  This is all on you, Zimo’s girl.  Don’t fuck this up.”

“baby”, she said, I got no intention of…”

But at that moment, she dropped the phone as the front tyre of the truck hit a pothole.  She stamped on the brake, and felt the trailer begin to skid slightly.  Back on the gas, she gunned the rig.  Listening, she could still hear the siren.  Maybe taken aback at the thing’s reckless speed, he had backed off. She smiled.  He must be in the pic up thinking this bitch really wants these fucking pineapples.  She passed the three way intersection doing about sixty five, missed the slow speed sign by inches, narrowly missed a Buick and sped on its way.

Tom and Marg were on their day off.  He worked at Home depot, she worked at the DMV.  Both in their early fifties, they weren’t married, but shared their days off, usually taking a sandwich up here into the hills outside the bustle of the city.  Nice and quiet.  That’s how tom liked life.  He didn’t like it when the stupid bitch driving the semi-truck sped straight across a fucking stop sign, narrowly missing his car with her truck’s front fender.