Novena

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.