Too Little, Too Late

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE

By: Marta Tandori

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For my father, Desi Tandori – a man of extraordinary courage in the face of insurmountable odds.  

The sins of a parent cannot be inherited…but some legacies are just too powerful to escape.

July, 2011

Los Angeles, California

The dirty clothes and foul body odor were a lethal combination, infusing the already cloying humidity with a pervasive stink
. Seventeen-year-old Karen Devane almost gagged on it as she got out of her car and cautiously approached the derelict beating up on her grandmother’s custom-made mailbox. Until now, Karen’s exposure to the homeless had been limited to the few winos on Hollywood Boulevard she and her friends regularly used to score their booze but those tended to be straightforward commercial transactions, requiring very little in the way of social interaction. The last thing she expected was to find one of them out here in Laurel Canyon and with her grandmother away in San Francisco for the weekend, Karen had no idea how to deal with the present situation.

Fishing her cell phone out of the pocket of her shorts, she speed-dialed her mother’s number – and got bumped directly to her voicemail. That meant her mother was showing a house and couldn’t be reached. Karen immediately felt the familiar rush of resentment.
Other
agents could text and multi-task up the Ying-yang while showing a house but not
her
precious mother.
Carriage Trade
had dubbed Eve Stanton “Realtor to the Stars” when she’d graced their cover earlier this year and there was certainly no doubting the fact that her mother’s dedication and drive had gotten her to the top of L.A.’s competitive realty market. The only problem was, her mother’s dedication ended with her job. As a wife and mother, good old Eve sucked. Work had always taken top priority, with Karen and her father coming in a dismal second and third place, respectively. Too bad she didn’t have the option of bailing on her mother the way her father had when he’d demanded a divorce last year. Needless to say, both her parents had tried being diplomatic about the whole fiasco by telling her it hadn’t been anyone’s fault; that they’d just grown apart,
blah, blah, blah
, but Karen had never bought into their no-fault fairytale, especially after the divorce negotiations turned toxic. Thank God her grandmother had been there for her – but then again, Grams always was.

Her friend, Laurie, got out of the car and staggered over on legs as thin as toothpicks. “Why’s the chick goin’ ape-shit over the stupid mailbox?”

Karen shrugged. “How should I know?”

“Maybe she’s comin’ down off somethin’.”

“And if anybody knows a thing or two about
that
, it’s gotta be you, right Sniffer?” Josh Preston, Karen’s boyfriend-of-the-month, joined them and slung a possessive arm around Karen’s bare shoulders.

Laurie glared at him through rheumy eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“What – can’t handle the truth?”

“Whatever the
fuck
ya
think
ya know about me,” Laurie shot back, “ain’t jack shit.”

Josh shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I just call’em as I see’em.”

Karen was quick to intervene. “Knock it off, you two.”

Josh immediately became indignant. “You’re taking
her
side?”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” she told him brusquely. “I’m just tired of listening to you two bitch at each other.”

“I wasn’t the one who asked her to come with us,” he pointed out.

Karen crossed her arms over her chest. “Well
I
did, so get over it. As for this whack job here, I’m calling the cops. They can deal with her.”

“Forget it,” Josh argued. “We’re not going to waste our time waiting for the cops to show. I say we handle her ourselves.”

Karen looked at the mailbox with misgiving. “I don’t know. What if she has a gun or something?”

Josh grinned, revealing even, white teeth. “Then she probably would’ve shot the mailbox by now.” He turned to the derelict. “Hey! Can you hear me?” When the woman kept right on kicking the mailbox, he clapped his hands several times to get her attention. “
What is your problem?
”

The woman abruptly stopped, her eyes looking startled as they settled on his face.

“I asked why you’re going spastic over the stupid mailbox,” Josh told her.

“Trade for tit’s milk.” Her voice was hoarse and barely audible.

Josh looked at Karen in bewilderment. “What’d she just say?”

“How should I know?” Karen delicately covered her nose with the back of her hand.

“Maria trade,” the woman continued, “tit’s milk for April.”

“It’s not April,” Josh informed her, “it’s July, you sick lesbo.”

“Lesbo,” she repeated carefully. A huge grin suddenly brightened her worn features as she began chanting in a sing-song voice, “Lesbo, lesbo, lesbo!”

“Great! Now we got ourselves a parrot,” Karen told him in disgust. She took a tentative step closer to the woman, noting she was a tiny little thing, barely coming up to Karen’s chin. “Why were you kicking my grandmother’s mailbox?”

The woman went silent again.

“I asked you a question.” When she still didn’t reply, Karen made a grab for her backpack, hoping to get a rise out of her.

“No!” the woman yelled. “No take!”

“Then tell us why you were kicking the mailbox,” Karen insisted.

“Maria trade,” said the woman in earnest, “tit’s milk for April.”

Josh shook his head in disgust. “There she goes again with that freaky lesbo thing.”

A frustrated Karen made another grab for the backpack, this time managing to wrestle it away from her. Shrieking in rage, the woman lunged at her but Karen quickly ducked behind Josh’s solid frame.

Josh was easily a few heads taller than the woman and effortlessly captured her arms, pinning them against her sides. She struggled to free herself, arms and legs flailing in all directions, but it only made him tighten his grip. “Man, I hope she doesn’t have fleas or something.”

The woman abruptly threw back her head and butted him in the face.

“What the
fuck
!!” A stream of blood squirted out of his nose and down his chin before disappearing under his jaw. “I think she just broke my god-damned nose!”

“Helluvan improvement, if ya ask me,” Laurie muttered.

“No one friggin’ asked you!” Josh shot back.

“Don’t let go of her, whatever you do.” Karen sprung into action, quickly unzipping the woman’s backpack and turning it upside down. A cracked CD case, a prescription bottle and a handful of flyers advertising what looked to be the opening of a spa in West Hollywood came spilling out – but nothing belonging to her grandmother.

Laurie eagerly reached for the prescription bottle and opened it with hands that shook. She took a tentative whiff, before scooping out some of the contents and rubbing it along a nasty-looking rash on her left arm.

“Are you crazy?” asked Karen, giving her friend a look of disgust. “You don’t even know what it’s for.”

“It’s just some cream,” Laurie retorted. “Don’t have a freakin’ cow.”

“Forget about the cream,” Josh ordered impatiently. “Check her pockets, for Christ’s sake!”

“Wait!” Karen was beginning to have some misgivings about the whole thing. “I don’t think she’s got anything. Let’s just let her go.”

“Forget it,” said Josh curtly. “We’ll let her go
after
we check her pockets.”

Laurie staggered over to the woman’s side and stuck her hands inside her shirt pocket. She took her time as she fumbled around inside.

“Can you go any slower?” he asked impatiently, as he furtively scanned the street.

Laurie ignored him, her tattooed fingers finally bringing out a handful of lint, a few rubber bands and some random odds and ends. “Nuthin’.” She threw them away.

The woman began making low-pitched, mewling sounds in the back of her throat.

“What’s wrong with her?” Josh asked.

“Like I know?” Karen retorted, shooting the woman a worried look. “Let’s just let her go, okay.”

“I’m almos’ fuckin’ done.” Laurie’s brows knit together in concentration as her fingers slid into the pockets of the woman’s cargo pants.

This made the woman go ballistic. “No touch!” Pitching forward and then backwards to gain some momentum, she raised her legs and kicked Laurie squarely in the stomach.

The kick took Laurie by surprise and she staggered backwards, clutching at her middle.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked.

Laurie managed a strangled sound in the back of her throat before she threw up in a series of violent, spastic spurts.

Karen felt the bile rising in her throat. “For Christ’s sake, did you have to do that
here
?”

“Ya think I wanted ta puke?” Laurie weakly wiped at the leftover vomit dribbling down her chin with the back of a tattooed hand. “It’s that bitch’s fault for gettin’ me in the gut!”

While the two girls argued, the woman managed to twist her body around and sink her teeth into Josh’s upper arm. He rewarded her with a hard slap across the face that sent her sprawling over top the mailbox.

“Her lip is cut!” Karen shrieked. “Don’t let her get blood on the mailbox!”

Josh grabbed the woman by the legs and tried pulling her off the mailbox but she refused to let go. “Son of a bitch,” he huffed, “she’s like a god-damned wildcat!”

The nails holding the hinges of the mailbox suddenly creaked and a minute later, the lid went flying off, sending the woman reeling backwards against Josh’s chest.

“Tell me you didn’t just break that!”
 

Before Josh could reply, the woman furiously charged Laurie with the lid of the mailbox clutched against her front like a shield. “Give back!”

“Get the hell away from me!” Laurie swung wide, but got nailed in the arm.

Josh retaliated by picking up a rock from the base of the mailbox and throwing it at the woman. It got her in the stomach and she howled in pain. He quickly followed the first rock with a smaller one which thudded against her forehead. Almost immediately, blood began trickling down from behind her bangs into her eyes.

Karen grabbed Josh’s arm. “Are you crazy? You’re going to kill her!”

“
Me, crazy?
” he defended himself. “What about her?
She’s
the one who’s fucking psycho-certified!”

As they argued, the woman abruptly turned and limped down the street.

She looked at Josh imploringly. “We can’t just let her leave like this!”

“Sorry, you’re on your own.” His tone was obstinate as he gingerly prodded his broken nose. “There’s no way I’m going near her again.”

“You’re
such
an asshole sometimes!” With that, Karen took off after the injured woman, furiously wiping at the sweat pouring down her forehead with the back of an arm. Unable to believe how quickly things had gotten out of hand, she furtively glanced in both directions. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. “Wait up!”