Boulevard (20 page)
“What did he want you do?”
“Be a nurse. What else?”
“Ahh. Starting to make sense. Were you interested?”
“Actually, I was. And since I'm still the dutiful daughter, I go to Northridge and major in nursing. It's not so bad. But without telling my dad, I do a double major. And the other one's in criminology.”
“Bad girl.”
“Very,” she said with a smile.
“What he say when he found out?”
“I didn't tell him till I was about to graduate. By then I had already applied to the academy. I mean, I hadn't really lied to him. I did the whole nursing thingâgraduated with honors in it. I just did criminology too. He was really torn. There was a side of him that was proud his girl wanted to be like him, but he was also scared for me, that every night I would be facing down the kind of stuff that in his time, he hardly ever had to deal with.”
“He was right in a way.”
“He was more than right. When I was doing my nursing training in the Cedars emergency room, I saw lots of terrible things. But at least there was some time between the shooting and when we saw the vic. The blood wasn't still coming out of a hole in his head and you see pieces of his skull on the ground. And by the time they got to us, it was all about the treatment. Guy comes into the ER, the job of the team is to try to save him. That's it. It wasn't, who's the shooter? Oh God, there's a little girl who watched her mother get shot? But I didn't listen, and went straight to the academy.”
“Sorry you did?”
“Not now.”
Jimmy drove them down the Boulevard, back towards the stationhouse. When they hit La Brea, Jimmy passed a weird sculpture he always likedâfour life-sized silver girls in a circle. Who knew what the hell it meant? Probably something to do with actresses and the movies, but the girls were hot enough, and it definitely beat looking at generals on horses. He jerked the car to a stop. Inside the circle of silver girls, sitting on the feet of one of the statues, was Mary. She was eating chips from a bag. As soon as she saw Jimmy, she got up and started drifting away.
“Mary,” Jimmy called.
She looked back at Jimmy and walked faster down the Boulevard. Jimmy followed, piloting the car slowly after her.
“Mary.” She didn't answer and kept on going.
He turned to Erin, “This'll only take a minute. Sorry.”
Jimmy pulled the car over and jogged down the sidewalk after Mary.
“Haven't seen you around,” Jimmy said.
“Haven't seen you.”
“How you doing?”
She shrugged.
“Rancher around?” Jimmy said.
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“Around,” Mary said. “You know.”
“I don't know. Where around?”
“Around.”
“He okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What's he doing? Where are you staying?”
“He's okay. I told you.”
Jimmy looked at her. A young, pretty girlâand completely cooked on crack. His one thin connection to Rancher.
“Tell him to find me, alright?”
“That's up to him.”
“I know it's up to him. But tell him. Pleaseâ”
“How 'bout some money?”
“For food?”
“Yeah. Sure. And a room. It was freezing last night, you know.”
“No drugs.”
Mary shook her head.
What were the chances? But he reached into his wallet and emptied it. Sixty or seventy bucks.
“Now, what are you going to tell him?”
“I'm gonna tell him to call his daddy.”
“Look,” Jimmy said, “just tell him I wanna talk. That's all.”
Mary started to walk away. Jimmy called after her, “And tell him he can come home, both of you, if you want. The door's always open.”
“Sure.”
Then she stopped and turned around.
“Wanna know something?” she said. “You're gonna be a grandpa.”
“What?”
“Yeah. That's right. Me and Rancher, we're having a baby.”
“What?”
She smiled and headed for the corner.
“Waitâ”
Jimmy ran after her. “Maryâstop.”
He put his arm on her shoulder. She screamed, “Get away! Get away from me!!”
Jimmy let go. She raced across the street.
Jimmy slowly walked back, wondering where and how it all went wrongâhe tried so hard to do everything right. He slipped inside the car, and for a moment, silently stared ahead, down the lights of the Boulevard. He turned to Erin. “I've been doing this job for eighteen years and I'm still naïve enough, stupid enough, or crazy enough to think cops help people. But the truth isâI can't even help my own family.”
C
asey was back on the Boulevard with Dragon, Jumper and the others. The walking back and forth drove her crazy. Stores where they couldn't afford to buy anything, restaurants where they couldn't eat, hotels where they'd never stay. What was the point? But what else were they supposed to do? So they walked. Coming towards them, taking fast bites from a glazed donut, was Dog-Face.
“Doggie,” Jumper yelled, “they keep you in there all night?”
“Assholes,” Dog-Face said.
“That's big news.”
“Fuckin' assholes.”
“Cops gave you some fine food thoughâ” As he said it, Jumper snatched away what was left of Dog-Face's doughnut.
“Fuck you, Jump, this is serious, man. They're fuckin' obsessed with getting the dude who greased the mayor's buddy. And they got someone on the street.”
Dream laughed. “They got lots of guys on the street, you dumb fuck.”
“No, bitch. Undercover.”
“Come on,” Tulip said.
“No, come on. I was there,” Dog-Face said.
“Whatâthey told you?” Dragon said.
“I was lying on the floor all handcuffed and they forgot meâthought I was asleep. Yo, this is super-fucked. Someone's out here spying on us.”
“Hiding in our closet?” June Bug said, “They'd be pretty bored.”
“No. On the street.”
“Actually,” Jumper said, “I know that already.”
“You do?” Dog-Face said.
“Sure.”
They all looked at him.
“Sure. 'Cause that person's me.”
Jumper got the smiles he wanted.
“No, man,” Dog-Face said. “This is serious”
“So am I.”
“Asshole, this is real.”
“Doggie, that's bullshit. Cop shit,” Jumper said. “Let's go to Joey's.”
Casey looked around. Everyone was enjoying the show. Not her.
She suddenly felt sick, like when she was a little girl and had a bad fever, and every muscle, every bone, her head, her skin, and her stomachâall felt sore.
They kept walking. But Dog-Face held still.
“Hey, man,” Dog-Face said, “How
do
I know it's not you, Jump?”
“It is.”
“No, really.”
“Dog, if it was meâI would've turned your sorry ass in a long time ago. Let's eat.”
J
immy stood in line at Kinko's Copies. He couldn't believe there even was a line. One-thirty in the morning, and the rest of America was sleeping, but in Kinko's on Sunset it might as well have been noon. Two guys in their late-twenties were buzzing with energy as they went back and forth over what color their screenplay cover should be. A rock band complete with the big hair, circa mid-80's, dressed entirely in leather, and with spiked wristbands was picking up a two-foot high pile of posters announcing a gig. And of course, there were the knock-your-socks-off stunning girls in the self-service area, Xeroxing resumes and stapling them to the back of their headshots. The pictures all had the same basic look. Glossy eight-by-ten black and whites of fresh-faced girls from places like Wisconsin or Texas with pearly white teeth, a lot of them wearing tank tops, and nearly all with long hair, laying over their shoulders. Everywhere Jimmy went in LA he saw themâfrom the breakfast joints at the Farmers' Market to the corner dry cleaners. There were so goddamn many girls, most of whom could stop traffic in their home towns, and every day the Hollywood pond was restocked. How do you break out of the pack. With talent? Good luck. It was a crap shoot all the way, and the woods were full of assholes who were ready and eager to prey on girls who didn't know shit, but had the killer looks. Girls like Dani, chasing the dream, but at this second, was swinging naked around a pole at the SR Club. Sometimes the girls gave up and went homeâthey were lucky. Others got lucky by checking out of this bullshit, like he wished Dani would, and instead they managed restaurants, became teachers, went back to college. The unlucky girls just descended lower and lower, and in Hollywood that was the porno world. They would be barely out of high-school and banging for the camera one guy after another. Ask them about AIDS, and they'd say, everyone has to be tested. Great. One test, six months ago, and after that they were free to get it and spread it. Was it really worth it? Fucking whoever they told you, and every time you did, playing Russian Roulette?
A girl to the side of the cash registers was attaching her headshots to a pile of resumes. Jimmy could see her top credit was playing Marion in
The Music Man
in Reddingâwherever that wasâCalifornia. The girl was in her early-twenties, model-tall, with long strawberry-blonde hair. Their eyes met for a moment and she smiled at him. She was beautiful. Jimmy smiled back, and hoped he would never have to deal with her as a victim, the way he had with so many cuties, so many times before.
When he got to the counter, a friendly girl with a pink and blue Mohawk and an English accent ran his order. He walked out of Kinko's with fifty green sheets.
The first place he went was the corner of Hollywood and Vine. A few months ago, Jimmy took one of his nephews from Brooklyn around, and this was one of the places he wanted to see. Allegedly it was famous, but when they got here the kid said, âthis is it?' There was a star for the astronauts who first walked on the moon, but the rest was nothing, just some seedy, forgettable stores.
Near the corner was a tattoo parlor. Its lights were still glowing, and Jimmy could see a buff woman in a tank top with plenty of tatts herself, inking Chinese characters onto a guy's shoulder. On a light pole in front of the place, Jimmy taped the first poster. On it, was a picture of a big, friendly Akita. Below the photo was printed, “Lost Dog. Carrie. Reward if found” and a phone number. For the next hour, Jimmy went down the Boulevard, every couple of blocks, putting up another green poster.
H
is car was parked on the fourth level of the Beverly Center lot. The oldies station was playing as usual, and some girl whose name he forgot or never knew was singing
Save the Last Dance for Me
. Jimmy opened a Fatburger bag he picked up on the way over and looked across the parking lot to see families laden with shopping bags coming down the escalators that ran up the outside of the enormous mall. They'd get off, the parents talking, the kids fooling around, and go to their minivans. Lots of happy families. Shopping together, hanging out together. Fuck. It didn't seem so hard for themâwhat was the matter with him? He thought about Shannon and when they met. Pretty, with long curly red hair. She was a firstâyear law student at Fordham and was observing in a courtroom where Jimmy was testifying. The first night they went out, he knewâthey both knewâthis was the real thing.
Her father was crazy, a con man who had done time, and when he wasn't screwing up other people's lives, he was wreaking havoc on his own family. Shannon got as far away from him as she could, becoming a lawyer, marrying a cop. He was moving up fast in the NYPD, and she was an assistant DA in the Bronx. They had a son, Liam, and for a while they were happy too. Liam was a great kid in every way. His favorite book was
Pecos Bill
. Jimmy must have read it to him a hundred times. One night, as Shannon sat on the edge of the bed folding laundry, and Jimmy read to him, Liam turned to Jimmy in the middle of the story and in his high voice said, “I don't want to live in New York anymore, I want to go and be a rancher.” The name stuck, and from then on he was probably the only Rancher in the Five Boroughs.
They took trips together: New Hampshire to see the leaves change, Disney World for Rancher's seventh birthday, and Ireland for ten days. But after Jimmy's shooting and the shitstorm that followed, things began to fall apart. He kept playing the shooting over and over in his head, seeing it every night in his dreams. He and Shannon were hardly talking. He was going to choir practice. Far more than he should. Shannon told him to see a shrink. He had zero interest; choir practice was working just fine. He was pissed that she couldn't understand what he was going through, the way the guys at the bar could. Then one time he took a skater from Disney on Ice, who somehow ended up in their bar, back to her hotel room. He didn't fuck her, but he came close. He told himself that other guys would be proud they didn't go through with it. But Jimmy felt like shit that he went as far as he did.
When they moved to LA, things were better for a bit, but then it was the same. Shannon was once the love of his life, and now they fought all the time. More and more, on the nights they were all home together, he would read to Rancher in his room and once Rancher fell asleep, Jimmy would fall asleep beside him. Half the time it was because he was wiped out from work, but the other half it was because it was a lot easier sleeping next to sweet Rancher than arguing with Shannon. She was miserable, he was miserable. What was the point? After the divorce they shared custody of Rancher. A year later, she married a lawyer, which is what she should have done in the first place. Jimmy would stop by her new house in Encino whenever he knew something about Rancher. Usually he didn't have much to say, and it was tough having the conversation with a picture of a beautiful nine-year-old Rancher snuggling with Shannon in a Dublin café, looking down on them from the wall. It was a big house, nice furniture, nice yard, nice husband. They had a whip-smart two-year-old boy, who Shannon worshiped. She loved Rancher, of course, and would do anything for him, but it was clear to Jimmy, her goal in life was not to fuck it up with her new son like they had done with Rancher. Sometimes it pissed him off, but most of the time, he understood.