Too Little, Too Late (13 page)

***

It was two in the morning but Hollywood Boulevard still teemed with life, from the sausage vendors littering the sidewalk, the sounds of their sizzling meat electrifying the humid night air to the winos solemnly nursing their bottles of elixir hidden inside of dirty paper bags. Adding to the congestion on the Boulevard were the scam artists who scuttled along the sidewalks like frenzied beetles, hoping to score a quick buck off the late-night tourist trade. Leo’s shoulders were hunched and his hands thrust into his pockets as he cut a wide swath around the festering sea of humanity. He forced himself to remain calm.

Maria had disappeared as abruptly as she had come. He had asked around, dutifully checking all the locations in around Hollywood and Highland that had been eagerly divulged for the price of a ten dollar bill, yet none had yielded Maria. Ditto for the block around Frederick’s of Hollywood. Every head of matted hair was cause for a second glance, but the past four hours had been an exercise in utter futility. Some sixth sense told Leo she wasn’t far; that it was just a matter of him being able to find her as she had found him earlier tonight.

The laden shopping cart came out of nowhere, careening into Leo’s side with a painful jolt which pulled him from his revelry. The force of the impact scattered the pile of bags from the cart around the sidewalk at his feet. The owner of the cart muttered something guttural under her breath as she stooped to pick them up. The glint in her blue eyes was unmistakable.
They were taunting him.
She was no better than the trash in her cart and yet the scathing look she showered upon him was a testament to his ineptitude. His jaw clenched imperceptibly as she turned her cart around and loped down the alley behind a tired-looking pawn shop.

Leo closed his eyes, trying to forget the derelict’s face.
His father would never have allowed her to act with such disdain in
his
presence
. With slow, measured steps, he followed her into the alley. It was strewn to overflowing with trash cans and garbage bags ripped open by stray animals as well as the usual assortment of discarded bottles and decomposing food, a veritable smorgasbord for the rats scurrying about under his feet. She was bent over a dirty cardboard box and didn’t hear him approach.

He felt unaccountably aroused inhaling the stench of her unwashed body and his even breathing slowly turned to ragged gasps as he watched her every move. A rushing sound filled his head, impeding his ability to think. Closing his eyes, he waited for the noise in his head to subside but it didn’t. It only got louder.

She must die!
 

“No, Father,” he whispered. “She’ll be my salvation.”

Hearing his voice, the woman gave a start, stumbling backwards until she hit the ground. Leo fell on top of her, her scream muffled by his hand as it closed over her mouth. He felt some of her rotting teeth give way under the pressure of his hand. Her strong odor permeated his senses, exciting him, as he lifted the layer of rags to reveal painfully thin thighs marked by scars, the apex of which bore a few sparse pubic hairs. The rushing noise in his head became louder still.

She’s not Maria
.

“Don’t worry, Father, I’ll find her.”

Prying her legs apart with his knees, he unzipped his pants, all the while watching the derelict’s eyes. Suddenly, they were
Maria’s
eyes and they no longer mocked him. They were now beckoning to him. He knew what he had to do.

After all, he was his father’s son.

“Happy birthday, Esther.” Kate Stanton smiled at the tiny old woman in the wheelchair, her pale blue rinse complimented by the white corsage pinned to the lapel of her dress.

“Everyone’s acting as though I’ve reached a milestone.” Esther Solomon shrugged pragmatically. “I go to sleep and some days, I want to wake up. Not much of an accomplishment.”

“It is when you’re 94,” Eve retorted. She gave the old woman’s frail shoulders an affectionate squeeze.

“Let me tell you young girls something.” Esther shifted to a more comfortable position. “It’s no fun growing old, especially when you’re left alone.”

Kate smiled at her reference to them being “young girls”.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Esther as she pointed an arthritic finger at both of them. “Laugh all you want, but from where I’m sitting, the other side of seventy is practically puberty.”

Kate and Eve had been coming to the Entertainment Foundation for more than ten years to visit Esther. Esther was Eve’s godmother and she was like an extended member of their family. After Esther’s husband, Frank, had died, Esther’s health had slowly begun to decline. Ten years ago, it got to the point where she couldn’t look after herself any longer and had made the decision to move here. The Foundation provided a variety of services to those who had served in the entertainment industry and Kate had been a tireless ambassador and campaigner for the Foundation for a number of years. Her most recent brainchild was an auction to be followed by a black tie benefit to raise money for two new physiotherapy pools. Considering that a huge percentage of L.A.’s population was somehow connected with the entertainment industry, there was no shortage of deep pockets for Kate to target and she went after all of them with an energy, enthusiasm and good humor which made her hard to resist.

Surprisingly strong fingers took hold of Eve’s hand. “Did your mother tell you that my husband, Frank, was in the recording business?”

Recognizing that the Alzheimer’s had a hold on Esther’s memory today, Eve pretended to look surprised. “Your husband was Frank Stromboli, the record producer?”

Esther smiled complacently, happy to have a receptive audience. “The one and only.”

Eve smiled in encouragement. “So your husband was the one who discovered my parents?”

“Louis B. Mayer wasn’t the only one with a nose for new talent,” Esther sniffed.

“You must’ve been very proud of him,” Eve remarked.

“Old Louis may not have had the only nose for talent,” cackled one of the Foundation’s newer residents, an elderly man sitting next to Esther, “but he certainly acted like he did, the obnoxious a-hole!”

“Oh hush up, Dickie!” cried Esther. “You had it in for L.B. ever since you defected to Warner Brothers.”

“Dickie had no choice when MGM started laying off its Foley artists,” explained a lovely octogenarian with a tube of oxygen running into her nose.

“What’s a Foley artist?” asked one of the nurses who was checking Dickie’s blood pressure.

“A Foley artist works with a sound engineer after a movie’s been shot to create sound effects like logs falling and bones crunching,” Dickie explained.

Esther added loyally, “And Dickie was MGM’s best, wasn’t he, Sigi?”

“He certainly was,” Esther’s friend agreed before reaching out to stroke her husband’s shoulder affectionately.

“Anyway,” continued Esther, going back to the topic of Eve’s parents, “your parents’ group was one of the most popular folk groups of the sixties, second only to Simon and that other hippie fellow.”

“Garfunkel,” supplied Eve automatically. “And to think they gave it all up, just to have me.”

“A crying shame was what my Frank called it.”

Kate, who’d been quiet up until now, was quick to pipe in, “I think it’s time we got this birthday party on the road.” Without further ado, she went into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a tray of tiny Faberge-like cakes she and Eve had made for the occasion, much to the delight of everyone in the room. Kate had also baked a small slab cake to which she and Eve added two candles in the shape of a “9” and “4”. Amid the clapping, countless photographs and singing, Esther blew out her candles.

“Today, I’m very glad I woke up,” she announced happily. Her eyes misted over as she looked at mother and daughter. “Thank you for the lovely cakes.”

“I have one more surprise for you,” Kate announced happily. “As today also happens to be the anniversary of
The Czar’s Wife,
a comedy you had starred in back in 1934, I’ve arranged for a special screening starting in a few minutes.”

Everyone clapped in excitement.

“It’s nice to have friends who care just when you think everybody’s forgotten,” said Esther happily.

“Would you lovely ladies allow me to escort you to the screening room?” Dickie held out one arm to Esther and the other to his wife.

Esther gave her friend a hopeful look. “What do you say, honey?”

Sigi looked at Dickie with an intensity that excluded everyone else. “Esther and I would be delighted to have you escort us.”

Dickie’s face was a picture of pure bliss. Although it was an awkward little procession with Esther in a wheelchair, none of them seemed to notice as they slowly made their way into the screening room. Kate and Eve followed behind them at a distance.

Eve whispered in her mother’s ear, “They’re good for each other, aren’t they?”

“They seem to have a close bond, although the other two have only recently moved to here to the nursing lodge,” Kate told her. “It’s going to be hard on them when Esther’s memory eventually fades away.” She cleared her throat, overcome by emotion. “How’s my favorite granddaughter?”

Eve looked pained. “Still up in arms about Brooke.”

Kate looked at her daughter shrewdly. “How are you dealing with the whole Brooke business?”

“Eric and I have been over for a long time. I just have to get Karen to accept it.”

“Some men’s lives become more complicated as they get older,” Kate remarked sadly.

“Some men also become increasingly foolish in their old age,” Eve added, her expression grim. “I just hope Eric knows what he’s getting himself into.” She pointedly cleared her throat. “Speaking of getting into things, why haven’t you been returning Paul Wagner’s phone calls?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Hmm.” Eve looked at the heightened color staining her mother’s cheeks. “It seems to me like you’re avoiding him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kate looked mildly annoyed. “I listened to his voicemails. I know what he wants.”

Eve stopped walking and took her mother’s arm. “The same thing you wanted when you went after his listing. Seems pretty reasonable from where I’m standing unless it’s something else you’re afraid of.”

Kate looked away, unable to meet her daughter’s gaze. “We’d better get inside otherwise they’ll start the movie without us.”

***

Karen Devane parked at the 7th Street/Metro Center before carefully locking her car and heading for the Metro where she took the red line to Hollywood. Not exactly her preferred mode of transport but it wasn’t like she could just show up driving her Beemer in front of her Holly friends. It wouldn’t gel with them, especially since Laurie, her best friend from Hollywood High, rode the bus for over an hour just to get to school every day. Not that Laurie actually
went
to class. She was usually too wasted to give a shit, one way or the other.

Her mother hated Laurie; thought that she was a bad influence on Karen. If only her mother knew the half of it! Her mom thought she’d been smart to transfer Karen to Killenby, an exclusive college preparatory school on L.A.’s west side, but hadn’t realized that mere geography wasn’t going to keep Karen from seeing her friends, especially since her dad had splurged on the Beemer for her sixteenth birthday. Part of the extravagance was due to her old man’s guilt trip about the divorce and the other part had to do with the fact that he knew the expensive car would piss off her mother. Karen was at the point where she didn’t give a crap what her parents did. If they wanted to self-destruct, that was their problem.

Not that they weren’t civil to each other – they were nauseatingly civil, especially in front of her. And although Karen blamed her mother’s anal work habits for their split, her dad was partly to blame, too. He had been really pissed when her mom had gotten her real estate license and had gone into business with her grandmother. Apparently, he had wanted a stay-at-home wife like his first wife. His first wife had been one of those Park Avenue Princess types who had always wanted him around but with her dad still in med school at the time and him spending long hours at the hospital, he hadn’t been there much. In retaliation, his wife had become anorexic and had eventually starved herself to death. (Much of this was second-hand info from her half-sister, Caro, who lived in New York.)

And while she was certainly bitter about being transferred to Killenby against her will, that’s not to say life there was all bad because it wasn’t. Life was just
different
. Most of the parents of her friends at Killenby, like Ashley’s parents, were in the entertainment industry and had more money than they knew what to do with. From the time she had turned ten, Ashley had had a personal trainer, a counselor, a nutritionist and a driver; pretty heavy stuff for anyone, let alone a young kid. According to Ashley’s parents, these people were supposed to make Ashley a better-rounded person. She lived in a fancy mansion in Holmby Hills, went on great vacations and ate only at the best restaurants. She lost her virginity at thirteen and had known she was going to get her first car, a Mercedes, at sixteen. For girls like Ashley, it wasn’t like “If I’m good, I’ll get a new car”, or “If I get good grades, I’ll get a car.” Nope. Ashley and Laurie were definitely worlds apart and would probably hate each other on sight, yet Karen liked them both. They were like her Ying and Yang and she always hung with one or the other, depending on her mood.

Karen got off at Hollywood and Highland and checked out the action on the street. The usual groups congested Hollywood Boulevard while
Virgin
provided the background beats. She crossed over to the other side of the Boulevard, hitting the coffee shop at a run. Laurie and Spic were already there, in their usual booth.

“Hey,” said Karen, settling into the cracked vinyl. She automatically reached for a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit up. “What gives?”

“Not much,” replied Laurie, picking at a scab on her face. Her face looked worse than usual. “I think I need a little somethin’, somethin’.”