The House of Rumour (43 page)

‘I’m okay.’

‘Sure. But, you know, you’re worried about old friends giving you a hard time about moving on.’

‘Uhn . . .’

‘Arthur can look after you, you know. And we can always get more security if you want it.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And I’m always just down the road. Don’t let those freaks get to you. We’ll get through this. Then you can get back in the studio and do what you do best. Anything else?’

‘No, no, I don’t think so.’

‘Well, if there is I’m in the office all day.’

As Lorraine got up to leave Danny stood also. He reached out his arms clumsily to touch her, as if he was still learning how to make some gesture of friendship. Something between a hug and a handshake. Lorraine smiled.

‘It’s going to be fine. It really is. Just try to relax. We can take our time over all of this.’

‘Uhn . . . thanks, Lorry.’

She ruffled his hair then turned and left the room. Danny collapsed back onto the couch. He fished the pill bottle out of his pocket, clicked off the lid and carefully poured out the capsules onto the glass surface of the coffee table. He counted them out. He had twelve left. He looked at the label on the bottle.

06/27/97

OSIRIS, D
.

TAKE
1
CAPSULE
3
TIMES A DAY

NO REFILLS
.

He was nearly through this month’s prescription. Dr Nielson had told him that he wasn’t going to write him another before the due date. They were for his anxiety and his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, he had said, and it was important that he stick to the recommended dosage. He would have to find another doctor. He picked out two capsules and then put all the other drugs back into the bottle. He went to the kitchen and got a Diet Dr Pepper from the fridge.

Arthur was practising a series of Muay Thai boxing moves on the kickbag when Danny went down to the gym.

‘Hey, boss!’ Arthur called out when he saw him, and gave the bag one last kick.

He was wearing shorts and a singlet, his loosely muscled body slick with sweat. He moved across the floor towards Danny with a little disco hustle punctuated by Sui Nim Tao postures as he launched into the second verse of ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ by Carl Douglas.

Danny broke into a nervous spasm of laughter as Arthur reached for a towel.

‘Whaddaya say?’ he panted, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Wanna boogie?’

Danny shook his head.

‘Come on. Just a little exercise, boss.’

‘Yeah. I want to . . . uhn . . . go out.’

Arthur wiped his face.

‘Where d’you wanna go?’

‘Walk.’

‘Right. So, Griffith Park?’

‘Uhn . . . no.’

‘Elysian Park? Sycamore Grove?’

Danny shook his head, dismayed that after less than one month in his employment Arthur already knew all his favourite cruising haunts. But there was another place he thought of. A tranquil little Garden of Earthly Delights.

‘Cowboy Park.’

Arthur smiled.

‘Cowboy Park?’

‘Uhn . . .’

‘You mean that little place by the Beverly Hills Hotel?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Kippy yi yay, boss. I’ll get changed and have a car out front in ten minutes. Which one do you want?’

‘Uhn?’

‘Which car, boss?’

Danny thought about it. He had a 1950s electric-blue Cadillac convertible, a 1974 bright-red Pontiac GTO, a silver Mercedes E-Class, a black BMW Z3 and a tan Jeep Cherokee. He could drive none of these vehicles.

‘The Merc.’

They wound down through Laurel Canyon Boulevard onto Sunset with the radio on. As they drove through the Strip, ‘Set Adrift on Memory Bliss’ by P.M. Dawn was playing. Danny felt his heart flutter. He wondered if it was a side-effect of the Adderall or just a scattering of the emotions. He had a fleeting vision of another version of himself, in another universe, crying uncontrollably. He nodded his head gently to the break-beat, sighing to the sighs of the Spandau sample.
Reality used to be a friend of mine
 . . .

They passed through West Hollywood.

‘Nearly there, boss.’

‘Uhn . . . tell me about . . .’

‘What?’

‘The cowboy.’

‘Will Rogers? He was a cowboy actor. Did a vaudeville rope act.’

‘Uhn . . .’

‘Kind of philosopher too. Homespun stuff, but kinda funny.’

Arthur pulled up at the Will Rogers Memorial Park.

‘Affable.’

‘Affable?’

‘Yeah, affable. He had lots of sayings: if you find yourself in a hole, stop digging, things like that. But you know his most famous saying?’

‘Uhn?’

Arthur gave a deep laugh and put on an Okie drawl.

‘I never met a man I didn’t like.’

The park was a tree-lined enclosure, gently landscaped with manicured lawns and planted borders. Shallow steps led up to a central promenade with raised beds along its centre. Danny walked down to the fountain. He was wearing purple Versace jeans, a Ramones T-shirt, wraparound Ray-Bans, black suede New Balance trainers. When he got to the fishpond he crouched down and looked into the murky water. Koi carp swam in aimless circles. A fat goldfish looked up at him, mouthing mournfully. The creature looked trapped in its dismal element, staring out from another dimension.

Danny put his hand in his pocket. Last time he was here he had thought of bringing breadcrumbs or something, but he hadn’t remembered. All he had was the pill bottle. He took out one of the Adderall capsules and carefully took it apart. It was full of tiny extended-release beads, which he spilt out on to the palm of his hand. As he sprinkled some on the surface of the water the fish came up and swallowed one. Other koi were alerted and joined in the feed, thrashing about, struggling with each other to take some of the bait. Danny wondered what visions the fish might have. Perhaps they would see him as an alien god, feeding them gnosis. He watched until every fragment of the drug was gone then stood up and continued past the fountain.

The restroom was a vine-covered building in a secluded corner of the park. Another man in a hooded top was slowly approaching it from the perimeter path. Danny checked the man was looking his way, as he adjusted the crotch of his jeans, feeling the hardness of hopeful anticipation. The man glanced back at him then entered the restroom. As Danny made to follow him he felt a rush of energy course through his body. But as he reached the doorway he stopped. All at once excitement turned to fear. Panic.

He turned and strode back to the promenade. He felt his heart shudder again and he was sure that he was about to have a heart attack. He would die here, in this little park. He was hyperventilating. He had to calm down. He found a bench and sat down. He tried to exhale slowly, remembering the breathing exercises he had learnt. Out breath, count one, in then and out breath, count two and so on up to ten. It was all right, he told himself. It was going to be all right.

‘Danny?’

He looked up and saw a man with grey hair in a lightweight grey suit looking down at him. It was the man he had seen on his driveway that morning, he was sure of it.

‘Here.’ He offered Danny a small bottle of Evian.

Danny took a sip, wiped his mouth and handed it back.

‘Thanks.’

The man sat down next to him. He let out a sigh.

‘Danny, Danny, Danny,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You really are a lost soul, aren’t you?’

‘Uhn . . .’

‘Just be glad it’s us watching and not the press. Or the Beverly Hills Police Department.’

‘Uhn . . . I . . .’

‘Come back. We can protect you. No one else can.’

Danny shook his head. He must be from the Church, he thought.

‘Those pills, they’re killing you, you know? What you need is niacin, vitamin B3, purification therapy. We can get you clean again.’

The man in the grey suit made a vague sweeping gesture with his left hand.

‘And all this. Danny, I mean, really. These rumours we’ve been hearing. But we understand, we really do. I’ve been looking through your audit records. It’s all there. We know all about you. And you were making such good progress. You were operating level. Now you want to blow that? Disconnect yourself? Become a suppressive person again?’

‘Uhn . . .’

‘You’ve not been sleeping, have you? I think I know what’s really keeping you awake. It’s not just the drugs. You came on too quickly, you weren’t ready. You can’t deal with the secret knowledge of the Church. You’ve been trying to work things out on your own. Wanting to find out all about UFOs and extraterrestrials, hiring that investigator.’

‘Uhn?’

‘Oh, we know all about that, Danny. You paid that guy twenty thousand dollars to gather information on UFO sightings and government cover-ups about contact with aliens. What did you get for that? We’ve got what you need. You need to let us take care of you.’

‘Uhn.’

‘You need to rid your body of those space-alien parasites.’

‘I don’t want . . .’

‘You’ll go insane unless you let us help you. I can clear you, Danny. I can clear you today. Come to the Celebrity Center, we can book a VIP room.’

‘No . . .’

‘Remember, Danny, it isn’t just this life you’re messing up. You’re risking all your future lives! Your spiritual immortality is at stake.’

Danny looked up at the blue sky and thought of the fish thrashing about in the fishpond. His eyes began to water. He turned to look at the man sitting next to him but he had vanished. He looked around the park but the man in the grey suit was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had imagined him. Maybe he wasn’t from the Church at all. Maybe he was one of them.

Danny stood up and started to walk. Grey suit, grey alien, he thought. It could have been them all along. But what could it mean? Perhaps they were after the manuscript that Jenny had given him. He let out a sob. He was tired of all his secret knowledge. And frightened. When he got into the car Arthur noticed that he was shaking.

‘Are you all right, boss?’

‘Uhn . . . yeah. Home.’

Back at his house in Laurel Canyon, Danny Osiris went to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed. He tried to sleep but when he shut his eyes his visual cortex was flooded with vivid Technicolor images. It seemed less bright when he opened his eyes. He got up and watched his favourite porn video. It was a man fucking another man who was wearing a black rubber hood with a gag in it. He imagined himself as the man doing the fucking, then as the one being fucked, yin-yang, yang-yin, an alternating current in his consciousness as he masturbated. He got hard but he couldn’t come.

He went downstairs and got Juanita to make him an egg-white omelette. He ate it on wholemeal toast with a glass of orange juice. He went to see Lorraine in the office.

‘When uhn . . . Mr Zagorski . . .’

‘The writer guy?’

‘Yeah . . . show him . . .’

Danny pointed at the vast open space of his house.

‘Where do you want me to show him?’

‘Library . . . uhn . . . I’ll be there.’

Danny’s bookshelves were filled with books about the occult, the paranormal and UFOs. He had a considerable selection of counter-factual and alternate histories, and a whole section devoted to works that speculated on the nature of ancient civilisations. He found the box file that contained most of the papers he had acquired from the professional investigator the grey-suited man had mentioned. He removed a dossier and put it on the table in the middle of the room next to a pile of notes.

Larry Zagorski arrived just before four. He wore an aloha shirt, cargo pants, black Birkenstocks. Cropped grey hair. Lorraine introduced them. As they shook hands Danny felt a surge of power pulse into his limp palm.

‘Wow, this is quite some library,’ Larry said, looking around at the shelves.

Danny gestured at his science fiction section.

‘Do you want me in this meeting?’ Lorraine asked.

‘Uhn . . . no.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s fine.’

Lorraine shrugged and walked away. Danny saw that Larry was stooping over a bookshelf.

‘Can I . . . uhn . . . help?’

‘You’ll have to forgive me. I always start at Z. Writers, you know, can’t help checking if we’re on the shelf. Good God. They’re all here!’

‘I’m a fan.’

‘I’ll say. Even I haven’t got some of these. You want me to sign them?’

‘Please.’

Larry stood up holding a battered paperback of
Lords of the Black Sun
, a garish illustration of a spaceship with swastika markings on its cover. He opened it.

‘This one already has a dedication. “To the gorgeous Danny, my favourite space cadet, love, Vita.” A girlfriend?’