The Life of Lol (13 page)

“Fucking stupid bitch”, he shouted.

“language”, shrieked Marg, “I don’t know why you drive if you get so aggravated with trucks all the time”

“Did you see what she did, he began, “dumb bitch took out my…”

But what Taylor had taken out, Marg never knew.  Because at that moment, the officer who had been in hot pursuit of the stolen pineapple truck hit them head on.  

Far in front, Taylor heard a bang, but didn’t look back.  This shit was easy.  Baddass gangsta bitch job number two.  This was more fun than a fucking video game.  .  Slowing the rig, she eventually found the entry to the concrete tunnel cut into the hillside, some kind of drainage thing, and guided the rig inside.  She wondered what to expect.  But now what she found.  On the other side of the hill through the little tunnel, there were about ten of Dawgs men.  And cars.  And a smaller van. 

One of the large back men knocked on her cab door,

“pineapple delivery for all you thirsty boys”, she drawled, popping on the aviator sunglasses she found behind the sun visor,

“You ain’t Tyler”, he said curtly,

“NO I ain’t”, she said a little indignantly, “for one thing I was on time.  Tyler wasn’t on time.  What kind of excuse is that anyway ‘caught in traffic’?

“All right baby”, he drawled, helping her out the cab, “keep yo panties on.  We got this.  Just chill and we’ll pack up your van.

She sat in the doorway of the truck, smoking another joint while the men got busy with the pineapples.  There were about five crates of them inside the trucks trailer.  Each pineapple had its top unscrewed, then the bag of blow was carefully removed before the pineapple was tossed back  in the crate, emptied.  After an hour, it was done, and she had a neatly packed up van full of bags of cocaine.

“Better drive this back real careful”, one of the men said, “lock up on 9
th
”

“yeah”, she said ruefully, looking at the van packed full of illegal class A drugs, “I reckon there’s about thirty years of jail time sitting right there”

“Sure thing, he said softly, thirty years for running a red a red light, baby.  Take care of your ass.  We’ll be right behind you.”

This had been a fun day.  She was getting the old feeling back, the old top dog feeling.  This was what she was meant to be.  The ways these guys had looked at her, none of them would have dared walk into that compound and just drive off in an impounded truck.  Maybe they were right, she was a little crazy, dropped on the head as a kid, who knew?  This shit was fun.  Dawg would be impressed.  Maybe he was a contact she could use in the future?

Chapter 17.  Smack, crack, but not quite bushwhacked

Increasingly happy with the way life seemed to be turning out, Taylor was on a bit of a roll.  She kind of had a boyfriend, this time someone who cared for her in the form of Jack Mason. Not only that, she’d added the banknotes from the drug deal to her stash and had been saving the bag of blow for a special occasion.  Dawg had paid her for the job she’d done with the melon truck too.  Jack still didn’t know about the coke from the drug deal.  That was the only problem.  He didn’t like her taking blow, even though she was only an occasional user.  He didn’t approve of it.   That was her only ‘thing’ with Jack.  Sometimes, she felt a bit like Horace the cat.  Protected and in the process of being saved from the gutter. On her way to the top on Jack Mason’s coat tails.  That was ok, but part of her wanted to rebel.  She didn’t mind being saved from the gutter, but was ok with being in the gutter too.  After all, she’d grown up there.  No, that wasn’t the problem.  The problem was the being protected bit, she imagined herself somehow wearing Versace dresses and gold heels and being wheeled out to go to parties and say nice things, and then be a good little girl at her sewing circle.  Taylor was beginning to be convinced this was the way her life was heading.  As yet, she didn’t know whether or not to mention this to Jack, or just to see what happened.  She decided to have a girly night out with Justine, and so the two of them arranged it with Jack.  He would mind the bar, and Tay and Justine would get a few drinks in an upmarket place in town, before taking in an after-hours club somewhere.  There would be plenty of chance to have a girly chat.  Justine was a nice girl, responsible, although she tended to have become old before her time, at least in her mind.  She was on the way to buying her own apartment, had a sensible car and worried about the government and her retirement.  Justine only had one problem, as far as Taylor could see.  That was her taste in men.  Her prison officer brother had seen the last under achiever off, but Justine was attracted to bad boys, there could be no denying that fact.  Taylor had learned her lesson as far as bad boys were concerned, with Allen, her former lover.  In a few idle moments, she wondered where Allen was.  In some ways, he had excited her more than Jack did.  Jack was fun, but he was so in control, and knew the answers to fucking everything.  Soon it became time to set off for town.  Jack insisted on closing the bar for a half hour, and taking the two of them in the car to the upmarket bar where they were going to drink.  Taylor felt ridiculous.  Justine had, in her sensible way, insisted that the pair of them dress for the occasion.  Taylor, normally being one to wear her biker jacket and ripped jeans, balked at the idea of a dress, indeed she didn’t even own one, but one was found for her, a black figure hugging one that showed up every inch of her slim athletic frame.  Justine, also wearing a sexy dress, had insisted on the dressing up.  She feared Taylor in her grungy biker gear would end up being headed for a rowdy rock bar, and end up in fights with drugs and stuff that Justine didn’t fancy at all.  Justine liked the blonde, the two of them were friends, but sometimes Taylor would be a little too exciting for her.  She didn’t have that thing in her brain that normal people have that tells them ‘too much’.  No, Justine didn’t think Taylor had that little nagging voice at all, she would just carry on until bad things happened.  Well, Justine thought, not tonight.  No bad things, just fun chat, a good dance and get a little tipsy with her new girlfriend. 

Taylor had Jack drop them at the street corner, feeling suddenly like one of those stupid girls that had a protective father.  Justine clattered down the sidewalk in her heels.  Taylor hadn’t fancied wearing heels, it somehow reminded her of her once prized red wedges that had worn out years before, so she was wearing a pair of smart black flats to go with the black dress, and a purse to match.  Unknown to Justine, inside the purse was the bag of blow that Taylor had saved for a special night out.  Well, this was a special night out.  

It had been a while since Taylor had done this.  It was maybe the first time ever.  As far back as she could go, she couldn’t ever remember having a female friend or confidante.  Justine was nice, maybe a little sensible, but hey, Taylor was a little flighty, so she guessed the two would kind of balance each other out.  They ordered a couple of beers and sat down in a booth.  Guys were watching them already, but that wasn’t why they came out, and Tay knew she had this look, the evil tiger like look that tended to put them off.  Tay didn’t know how to do small talk, so they just sat quiet at first and drank their drinks, until Justine began talking about their own bar and some of the customers. 

“I swear”, she said to Tay, “it was right there on his phone.  A picture of his own knob”

Tay laughed,

“What the actual fuck”, she said sipping her drink, “who the hell takes a picture of their genitals on their cell phone?”

“And why show it to me?  I hadn’t even eaten.”

“Guess the sausages were off the menu huh?” shot back Tay.

Only the tiny ones”, laughed Justine.

“Ugh”, laughed Tay again, “I guess I wouldn’t mind if it was something to be proud of, but a little itty bitty thing…no screw that, I don’t ever want to see that in an album of family snapshots.”

They laughed.  That broke the ice.  Justine asked Tay about prison, and how she was coping with life on the outside.  That had been a good question.  Tay didn’t know.  It was ok, everything was going fine, she had a job, and let’s face it, someone with her record would be grateful of any kind of job.  Plus, she had Jack and a place to live.  Hell, she considered, life was better than it ever had been.  She almost felt like a regular person.  She told Justine that, and the other woman smiled.

But Tay wasn’t a regular person.  Inside she was the grifter, the drifter with an eye for a con and a sadistic streak that would resort to violence at the drop of a hat.  She felt for the small bag of blow in her purse, and remembered the drug deal, and having the handgun in her pocket.  The adrenaline was indescribable. 

They had more drinks, and, already feeling a little bleary eyed and hazy, the caught a cab to a popular club.  It seemed to Tay that the club was situated in somewhere she found vaguely familiar.  Maybe it was in the old quarter of the city where she’d hung out as a kid, but with a few beers inside her she couldn’t remember.  The club was desperate for single sexy women, and a notice behind the bar said that drinks were free before eleven thirty for women, and Justine and Tay took full advantage, ordering bizarre combinations of boozy cocktails.  They all tasted strange to Tay, she was mainly used to the smoother taste of Kentucky bourbon, but this would do.  Her head span merrily as they joined the other patrons on the dance floor.  The sound of the music echoed in Tay’s head.  A thought entered her mind,

Law of the jungle

Somehow it reminded her of the fight with Diane, and the sudden chaos, and the blood pounding in her ears.  A guy could hold this place up with a shotgun and none of these people would ever even know.  But right at this moment, Tay could barely even spell the word shotgun, her head swam  comfortingly and she let her body and senses go to music she didn’t recognise.  They were hot and sweating by now, Justine’s heels had been ditched by eleven thirty and she danced barefoot, Tay was glad she’d worn her flats though. The whole barefoot thing reminded her too much of the home and that damned cupboard and Groucho.  Groucho again.

At about one am, they were very drunk, and Tay needed a cigarette, and so they went to stand on the outside balcony so she could smoke.

“I swear”, slurred Justine, “I swear if I jumped off here, I could fucking fly.  I mean, how hard can it be?”

“Just flap your wings baby”, chuckled Tay, barely able to register a sentence.

“I don’t have wings”, Justine said disappointedly, “isn’t there a drink that supposed to give you wings?”

“Tastes like dog piss”, slurred Tay, leaning onto the railings for support and drawing heavy on her cigarette.

“Give me one of those, wouldja?” Justine said,

“You don’t smoke”, objected Tay, “it’s a dirty habit, I’d stop but I been smoking since I was nine”

“Just gimme one”, she said again, “might make me high”

Tay remembered suddenly.  The bag of blow.  She fished about in her purse, excitedly.  She realised that being drunk was quite annoying.  Like now, she had to find this bag of blow and show her friend Justine.  She just had to.  And damn it, she couldn’t get her hands on it.  Everyone would be so pleased with her for having blow, she thought in drunken high.  Everyone would love her.

“What are ya lookin for”, said Justine watching Tay’s hands intently.

“I have blow”, she said loudly, “I’m a fucking drug dealer baby”

“Blow”, Justine repeated loudly, “Blow it up.  They blow everything up, don’t they.”

“I got it baby”, Tay said grabbing the packet.  Several people were looking, and so Tay, struggling to see, told Justine drunkenly to be quiet,

“Don’t tell them, she said laughing, “don’t tell them we have drugs.”

Justine winked, the liquor and the fresh air hitting her hard.  She could hardly see now and focussed on Tay’s fingers.  She had pretty fingers.  No rings, or long nails, but she was nicely manicured.  Wonder what her fingers taste like, she thought, and bent down to lick one.

“Take it easy baby”, admonished Tay, feeling just as drunk herself.  She knew she had to be careful.  She had no ides which the opening end of the bag was, and feared spilling the contents out.

“Shhhhh”, replied Tay, let’s go to the toilets.”

“yeah”, giggled Justine”, lets pee”

“No”, replied Tay, no peeing. Just this”

She held up the bag of blow.  Justine nodded.  Getting off the balcony and down to the stairs to the toilets was hard.  Tay suddenly envied Justine her bare feet, the flats she had worn suddenly felt, with her drunkenness, that they were lead divers boots,

“fuck this”, she said suddenly halfway down the stairs and kicked them off suddenly, leaving them on top of a monitor.  That was much better.  She felt much lighter barefoot like her friend, and the two of them giggled like school girls and tripped and jostled their way to the toilets and a cubicle together.

“Your shoes are gone”, said Justine with surprise.

“yeah”, said Tay, they were kinda getting in the way.  I’ll get em in a bit.  I left them some place.”

She couldn’t remember where.  At this moment, neither of them could remember going to the toilet, or how they’d got in this cubicle.  Tay imagined they would have to stay in the cubicle to sleep, until the boozy haze wore off a bit.  Fighting the urge to puke, Tay emptied the contents of the bag of blow out on the little side cupboard in the cubicle.  Taking her credit card, she slowly chopped at the white powder, forming it into several lines. 

“Coke is better than Pepsi”, muttered Justine giggling. 

“Sure is baby”, agreed Tay, !Right now I could drown in this stuff.  Fuck me, we are flying tonight baby”

Tay bent down and snorted a line.  Fuck yeah.  That’s how it’s supposed to be.  Strangely, the room took a double dip, and Tay suddenly felt the urge to puke again.

“Your turn sweet thing”, slurred Tay, holding the wall for support, “take a line”

Justine, never having taken coke before, snorted a line up her nose.  Her eyes seemed to glaze over for a while, and leaned back in the cubicle.

“You ok, baby” Tay asked nearly swooning, “first times always a bitch. “

Justine was silent.  Tay tried to bend to take another line, but she found that if she bent, the room took another double dip and felt the puke coming up her throat again.  Gingerly she bent her knees in a  most unladylike pose, and managed to get down to the stuff.  She snorted another line.  Now she couldn’t see any more at all, and had to feel for \Justine.  Justine seemed smaller than before, and only came up to her waist now for some reason.  Fuck her, she thought, and tried to snort some more.  She was only partially successful.  She forgot to bend her knees, and bent double to snort.  In doing so, the room took the triple dip, and flew round and round.  She fought to keep her consciousness, feeling everything in a sea of black and blood.  Then she vomited heavily. 

What the fuck was this.  She felt she was paddling in the sea, she could feel stuff between her toes.  Was she still in jail?  It was a tiny box of some kind. How the fuck had she got here?  She kicked past a body of some kind and out into a sea of noise that deafened her and made her puke again.  Then voices.  And arms.  She felt herself passing out, but puked a third time.  Then for a long time she was alone.  Tay stumbled along what she thought was a sidewalk, still in a world of dizziness and darkness. Her feet hurt.  Where the hell where her shoes??  Where the fuck was Groucho?  She stood for a moment and tried to find her friend.  Nothing.  Tay felt the sudden urge to go to the toilet, but where the fuck where the toilets?  Maybe she could go round an alley somewhere.  But she still didn’t know where she was although this all looked vaguely familiar.  Maybe it is familiar, she thought, its ok to go to the toilet somewhere familiar, if I’m at home and just outside then I’m ok.  She leaned on what was a wall, sitting down hard and felt her bowels give way.  A gush or diarrhoea came from her and covered her lower half, legs and feet.  The act of it made her pee herself and vomit again.  Fuck.  Gonna be a mess tomorrow to clean up, she thought.  Still, she thought, I’m in my bathroom, I’ll just sleep here.