Sweetie's Diamonds (26 page)

D
avid didn't know how he got through classes that day but somehow he had.
 
His mind was not on his schoolwork and his math teacher even called attention to him in class.
 

“Please stop daydreaming, Mister Boston,” he had said.
 
It wasn't too bad of a reproach.
 
Everyone was well aware of what David was going through.
 
Still, it had embarrassed David and made him angry.
 
All the kids in class turned to look at him.
 
Not only was he the Porn Star Mom's son, but he was the kid who got into a fight with Matt Shamrock and was knocked out.
 
His classmates surely had pity on him for the latter situation—no one liked Matt Shamrock except the bully's own little gang of hoodlums.
 
Actually, it wasn't really “pity.”
 
It was more like they were thinking, “You poor sucker.”
 

As for his reputation as the Porn Star Mom's son, that was becoming more and more humiliating.
 
He could hear the whispers behind his back and the giggles as he passed through the halls.
 
Once there was a piece of paper stuck on his locker that displayed his new moniker—Porno Boy.
 
Matt Shamrock or one of his flunkies must have coined the epithet.
 
Even though Shamrock had been suspended for the fight, his groupies were still at school.
 
One of them called him that at lunch and an entire table of kids laughed.
 

It was becoming increasingly demoralizing for David to appear in public.

When the final bell rang he slipped out a side exit and hurried across the parking lot to the street.
 
He wanted to avoid Shamrock's goons in case they were ready to retaliate for their leader being suspended.
 
David got a block from the school without any problems, way ahead of any other kids, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
 
He hoped that every day was not going to be like this one.
 
Something had to give, and soon.

“Hey, Porn Boy!”

The voice came from directly ahead.
 
David had been looking at his feet and not paying attention to what was in front of him.
 
There he was, thirty feet away.
 
The Thing.
 

“It's clobberin' time, pal,” Matt Shamrock said, walking swiftly toward David.
 
“You got me suspended and you're gonna
get it
.”

David was in no mood to repeat what had happened before.
 
His heartbeat was already increasing and he felt lightheaded.
 
He held his hands in front of him and said, “Hey, Matt, come on, give it a—”

But before David could finish his plea for peace, Matt shoved the tall boy hard in the chest.
 
David went down on the pavement, falling once again on his backpack.
 
Matt kicked his prey in the leg.
 

“Get up, pussy.
 
Or do I have to kick you while you're down?” the bully taunted.

David wasn't about to get up.
 
He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the coming pain.
 
Maybe if he kept his eyes shut then the whole thing would just go away magically, as if he had been dreaming.

“What's going on here?”

It was a masculine voice, one that David didn't recognize.
 
It came from across the street but was loud enough to be heard.
 
He opened his eyes and looked up.
 
Matt Shamrock had turned to face the speaker, who was standing by a white van.
 
The man was quite striking.
 
He was tall, had long blonde hair to his shoulders, and everything he wore was black.
 
The most distinguishing feature was that he had on a black eye patch.

The man crossed the street and came over to the two boys.
 
He addressed Shamrock.
 
“You always pick on fellows smaller than you?”

Shamrock snickered.
 
“Smaller than me?
 
Look how tall he is!
 
And who the fuck are you?”

Emo Tuff's hand slapped Shamrock's face so fast that neither boy saw it happen.
 
The sound, though, reverberated in the air around them.

“Oww!” Shamrock said, stepping back.

“Watch your language, kid,” Tuff said.
 
“He may be taller than you, but you know damn well that you're tougher than him.
 
He's no match for you.
 
As they say, why don't you pick on someone your own size?
 
Go on.
 
Get out of here.”

Shamrock didn't know what to think of the creepy stranger.
 
He backed off a few feet, then turned and ran down the block.

Emo Tuff held out his hand to David.
 
“Can I help you up, son?” he asked in a kindly voice.

David hesitantly gave him his hand and the man helped him up.
 
“Thanks, mister,” David said.

“Sure.
 
Glad to be of assistance.”

“You don't live around here, do you?” David asked.

“Nope,” Tuff said.
 
“I'm just passing through.
 
That kid pick on you a lot?”

“Uh huh.
 
He's a real asshole.”

Tuff chuckled.
 
“That he is, son, that he is.
 
Listen, would you like a ride home?
 
My van's right there.
 
You look a little shaken up.”

David
did
feel woozy.
 
His heart had gone into overtime for a few minutes and he didn't want to pass out again.
 
The man looked scary but he seemed pretty nice.
 
After all, he broke up the fight.
 

“I don't know…”

Tuff laughed.
 
“Oh, I see.
 
You're not supposed to accept rides from strangers, is that it?”

“Well, yeah.”

Tuff held out his hand.
 
“My name is Emo.
 
What's yours?”

David shook hands and replied, “David.”

“Well, David, we're not strangers anymore, are we?”
 

“I guess not.”
 

“Come on, that punk might be hiding up ahead to finish what he started.
 
Let me give you a ride home.
 
It's not far, is it?”

“No.
 
Just a few blocks down toward the village center.
 
Where the apartments are.”

“I think I passed ‘em earlier,” the man said.
 
“Come on, I'll get you home real quick.”

David followed Emo Tuff across the street.
 
The man opened the side of the van, a Chevrolet Astro Cargo RWD, and said, “Hop in, David.”
 
He climbed in and sat in the passenger seat.
 
Tuff closed the door and walked around to the other side.
 
He looked up and down the street and saw that other school kids were coming down the road now but they seemed to be paying no attention.
 
David had been at least five minutes ahead of everyone else leaving the school.
 
They hadn't been seen.

Tuff got into the van, closed the door, and pressed a button.
 
There was a click that echoed around the van and David had the uncomfortable supposition that something bad was happening.
 
Had the man just locked all the doors?
 
David then became aware that the van had no windows other than the driver's, passenger's, and front windshield.
 
Solid white paneling covered where there should have been a rear and side windows.
 

“Better buckle up, David,” the man said as he started the van.
 
“It's the law, you know.”

David did as he was told.
 
“Listen, uh, Emo, I think I can walk.
 
It's okay, you don't have to—”

“Nonsense.
 
It's right up here, isn't it?
 
Just settle back and I'll have you home in a jiffy.”

The van pulled out into the street and drove the six blocks to the center of town.
 
David pointed to the apartment building.
 
“That's it, right there.
 
You can pull over here.”

But Emo Tuff drove on past.
 

David spoke louder.
 
“What are you doing?
 
I said that…”
 
And then he realized that the driver wasn't paying any attention to him.
 

As fast as he could, David unbuckled his seat belt and pulled the door lever beside him.
 
Sure enough, it was locked.
 

“Like I said, David, you'd better buckle up,” Emo Tuff said.
 
“It's the law.”

W
hat was she going to do about finding another fence?

Diane left Scotty Lewis' office after discussing strategy for her upcoming legal battles and was faced with this dilemma.
 
Lewis had secured another attorney from Chicago to help with the school board case, as this was something he wasn't comfortable handling alone.
 
The new lawyer's name was K. R. Harp and a preliminary meeting between the three of them was scheduled for the following day.
 
Harp's fees were frighteningly high and Diane realized that she desperately needed to cash in more diamonds before she could even begin to pay the retainer.
 

It was late afternoon by the time she got home.
 
Coming into the kitchen through the garage, she called, “David?”
 
When there was no answer she went to his bedroom, expecting it to be closed with music playing inside.
 
The door was open, however, and David was not in the apartment.

She figured he was probably out with Billy Davis and that he'd be back before dinner.

D
arren Marshall put a portable digital tape recorder on the table and asked, “Do you mind if I tape our conversation?”

“Naw, go ahead,” his subject said.

Marshall turned it on, stated the date and time, and announced, “I'm sitting in Starbucks with Mister Eric Gilliam and he's agreed to answer a few questions about his days at Erotica Selecta Films.”
 
He addressed the man across the table from him.
 
“Say something so I can check the level.”

The man replied, “Roses are red, violets are blue, her pussy is sweet, and her tits are new.”

Eric Gilliam was fifty-one years old but had a lean, muscular body.
 
He had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and could pass as a beach bum surfer.
 
He was tan, clean-shaven, and sported several tattoos.
 
Still a handsome man, Gilliam was a major player in the adult film industry and had been involved in it since the seventies.
 
In the business, everyone knew him as “Pete Rod.”
 
He began his own line of amateur adult videos in the early nineties and they had made him a rich man.

“Mister Gilliam, tell me how you got into the business and when you first met Dana Barnett,” Marshall began.

Gilliam rubbed his chin.
 
“I guess I met Dana in nineteen… seventy-seven.
 
I had been working for Valentine for about a year.
 
He started Erotica Selecta, I don't know, nineteen-seventy-five?”

“That's right.”

“Anyway, I think I started acting in adult films at the end of seventy-five.
 
My so-called Hollywood career just wasn't happening.
 
I had made two lousy teenage beach movies and I didn't have any lines.
 
Someone suggested that I get into figure modeling, you know, for art classes, and I did that.
 
That led to someone asking me to do some photo shoots for a gay magazine.
 
It was pretty good money so I did it, even though I'm not gay.
 
After that, this rep signed me and I started making loops.”