Susan
The diner’s small—a long counter with
stools and a few booths along the window facing the street. He was sitting in
the last booth when I came in, hands wrapped tightly around probably the worst
cup of coffee in the whole world. The pie’s not bad, but I swear the coffee is
used diesel fuel.
He was up out of the booth before I
got half way down the aisle. Dark hair, blue T-shirt, jeans, like he said.
Windbreaker. Actually, he was kinda pretty himself, reminded me a little of
Billy.
“Brandy?”
“Yeah. Dave?”
“Yeah. Dave Starsky. Call me Starsky.
Come sit down. You want something? Coffee’s not bad.”
“Just a Coke.”
He went up to the counter and asked
Millie for the drink while I slid into the booth. He said “please” and “thank
you.” Like Ken. He sat down opposite me and leaned across the table.
“Do you know where Hutch is, Brandy?”
So much for small talk.
The way he looked at me then reminded
me of the parents I see on the strip sometimes, handing out pictures of their
missing kids. When I first came out here, I wondered if someday I’d find my picture on a telephone pole.
“Brandy?”
“Look, I’m not even sure we’re talking
about the same guy.”
He took a small picture from his
jacket pocket, unfolded it and held it out. It was Ken all right. A younger,
happier version of the one I knew, but definitely him.
“Why’re you looking for him? For all I
know, you’re a cop. And I don’t talk to cops.”
He fingered the picture lying on the
table. I got the feeling he’d done that a lot lately. “This is personal. He
didn’t show up for an appointment on Friday. I think he’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I had a couple
guesses: heroin and heroin.
“It’s complicated. If you know where
he is, tell me. Please.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his
wallet. Opened it and laid a twenty on the table, then pushed it toward me.
“Please.”
Up to that point, I hadn’t decided
whether to tell him Ken was my new neighbor or not. And I still can’t decide if
I was pissed off because he offered me money or because he only offered me
twenty bucks.
“I don’t know nothin’ about your
friend. If he’s your friend. And missing an appointment ain’t exactly a
felony.”
I made a move to get up and he grabbed
me by the wrist and pulled me back down.
“I need to find him.” He didn’t let
go.
“Okay, okay. I saw him last night at
the Blue Note. Said his name was Ken though, not Hutch.”
He let go out of my wrist and blew out
a breath he probably didn’t know he was holding in.
“Ken’s his first name. Hutch is just
what I call him,” he said.
I’d just given him back his hope and I
figured I should let him enjoy it for a few minutes before I told him about
Fallon.
I told him how I started running away
from home when I was eight. How the police would find me sitting on a bench in
the park after dark and bring me home in the back seat of a patrol car. My
mother would always meet me on the sidewalk and cry and hug me and thank the police.
She’d give me chocolate ice cream and look at me like she thought I might
disappear if she turned away. Then she’d always give me a beating, she’d say it
was for scaring her half to death.
“She never once asked why I kept
running away,” I said.
“Why did you?”
“For the ice cream.”
He was even prettier when he laughed. How come the johns never
look like him?
“Do you know where he went, Brandy?”
“Last time I saw him, he was doin’
business with Joey Fallon.”
“Fallon?”
“You don’t know him?”
He shook his head slowly like maybe
the name was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
“He’s a dealer. Mostly smack.”
The relief that was written all over
his face a few minutes before was now gone. He leaned back in the seat, closed
his eyes, and just whispered, “Hutch.”
I wanted to feel sorry for him, but
all I felt was jealous. I could disappear tomorrow and nobody would ever come
looking for me. Not till the rent was due, anyway.
“I’m sorry about your friend, really I
am, but I gotta go to work. And Starsky?”
“Yeah?” he said.
“You can’t help someone who don’t want
to be helped, no matter how many candles you light or how many novenas you say.
Trust me on that.”
I picked up the twenty from the
table and promised to call him if I saw Ken again.