The second man tightened his grip on Jake’s arms while the first man grabbed Jake’s hair and roughly banged his head down onto the hard yellow painted steel of the machine’s console. “Just look at that beauty,” the first man said as they watched the giant steel ram pressing sacks of trash and boxes until they burst apart. “It makes me all warm all over to see that. Just think what would happen to you if you accidentally fell in.” Jake could feel a trickle of blood drip from his nose and lip where the metal had cut his face. “Now, get the hell out of here,” the first man said, and, gestured to the second man who hustled Jake down off the machine and roughly shoved him down into the alley, then tossed his wallet back at him. “And don’t come back – ever!”
Jake picked himself up and collected his wallet with the fake ID – but the money in it was real – and so was the damage to his nose, which was tender to the touch, but probably not broken, Jake thought. A lot more blood comes out of a busted nose. A quick check of his watch showed that he had a couple hours more until the club closed up. Jake did the best he could to clean himself up and staunch the bleeding from his nose, then walked slowly away, making sure that the two men saw him leave the alley. The night air was cool and soothing, and the sounds of the city had muted to the occasional swish of the few cars that still made their way through the misty night. He went back to a different hotel, carefully washed and bandaged his cut lip, changed, and then drove back near the club, concealed himself carefully in the cross-alley, and waited for closing, but failed to spot the fishnet stocking girl leaving he building. It was a long shot – that was the kind of set-up he’d need backup for, and the whole set-up – a wire, cameras, the works. It had been a long shot and it hadn’t paid off. Dejected, Jake returned to the hotel room and flopped down onto the bed.
The next morning he gave Sandy a quick call.
“Sandy – Jake. What’s up?”
“Didn’t you get my message last night?”
“No... uh, they must have forgotten.”
“Jake, you’d better get back down here. That kid’s picture you sent me – well, he showed up on a security camera at a gas station here.”
“What!? Which kid?”
“Uh, Keith.”
“You mean he’s in town?”
“Yeah, or at least he was. He was traveling with this black chick. Got ‘em at a gas station.”
“You mean they robbed it?”
“No, we just got a lucky break, that’s all. The attendant remembered them and they still had the tape.”
“Get the plates?”
“You bet. Rental, out of Vegas. I’m gonna head over there tomorrow,” Sandy said matter-of-factly.
“Well… be careful.”
“Bye, Jake.” And with that, Sandy hung up.
The afternoon shadows were quickly lengthening in the scattered sunlight which marked the late afternoon in Tacoma when Jake had finally bullied, bluffed, and through means both legal and otherwise, his way into Mr. Bert Lieberson’s office cum classroom. Burt sat in a fancy new leather swivel chair incongruously placed behind an obviously war-surplus wooden desk, in the run-down former government office building which now served as the film institute’s campus. Burt wore a tropical print shirt, chinos, and flip-flops, but had to keep the steam radiator in his office fully cranked up to ward off the autumn chill which crept in through the drafty old building. He was about Jake’s age but a bit shorter and thinner, with grey hair that he kept in a comb-over. In front of his desk were about a dozen chairs each with a little writing arm, all obviously surplussed from the same backwater shithole as the other furnishings of the office. Behind him stood two large bookcases crammed mostly with knick-knacks, camera and sound equipment, and a few books scattered here and there, and a couple of large metal filing cabinets.
Jake got down to business by showing his badge and introducing himself.
“What’s this all about?” Bert demanded.
“Some students in your class,” Jake replied, producing the pictures. “Do you know them?”
Bert shook his head, but before he could open his mouth, Jake continued, “We know who they are and we know they were your students. These kids are in trouble, Burt. Big trouble. They’re mixed up with – organized crime.”
“I can’t believe that. Those were good kids,” Bert replied, shaking his head.
“You can’t always tell, Burt. That’s the thing. Sometimes the ones you think are the best turn out to have the darkest secrets…” Jake’s eyes wandered about the room. There sure was quite a clutter in this room, and a smell that he couldn’t quite place. An industrial smell. What was that smell? He walked towards the window, continuing to speak with his back turned towards Bert.
“You know, I always wanted to be a writer myself. Always liked making up stories.” Jake turned back and absent-mindedly picked up a folder from the sprawling stack on Bert’s desk.
“Maybe that’s because I spend all day listening to people who are making up their own.”
Jake casually picked up and flipped through one of the folders on Bert’s desk. It was a script for a sci-fi movie.
“Tell me about the script writing class that you have.”
“There’s not much to tell. The kids write scripts, I grade ‘em.”
“They keep journals.”
“Yes.”
Then Jake realized that the smell was the smell of toner from a heavily-used copier machine that he hadn’t seen in the back of the room.
“Did you give them any instructions about what to write in their journals?”
“No, just to write about things that happened to them.”
“Personal things?”
“Whatever makes for good drama.”
“Do you read the journals?”
“I have to grade them.”
“Ever find any good enough to make into a movie?”
Bert laughed nervously. “No, not with their experience.”
“You mean, their experience as writers.”
“Exactly.”
“I bet some of the experiences are pretty…intimate.”
“I suppose.”
“Pretty personal.”
“Yes.”
“Could be a lot of sex.”
Bert didn’t say anything, so Jake continued. “A lot of young, hot, steamy teenage sex. At least, if they’re honest.” Jake could see Bert’s face turning red. “Look, Bert, you can level with me. I can see maybe, how, for academic purposes, you’d want to maybe keep some copies of these journals.”
“No!...never did...never!” Bert stammered, but Jake noticed his eyes going to the metal filing cabinets at the side of the room.
Jake walked casually over to the filing cabinets but found them locked. He jiggled the handle on one, and could tell that it was full.
“Say, Bert, this cabinet seems to be locked!” Jake said, turning and giving Bert a quizzical look.
“Those are private school records. I’m going to have to call security!” Bert said, placing his hand on the phone.
“OK Bert, you go ahead and do that. You go right ahead and call and tell them that I wanted to see the private school records that you keep in that filing cabinet.”
Bert looked for a minute, but then he let his hand drop off the telephone.
“Key, Bert?” Jake asked, but Bert just shook his head, so Jake shrugged his shoulders and, plucking a couple paperclips from a nearby table, proceeded to jimmy open the lock, and then pulled open the first drawer, and pulled out a file.
“Hey, you can’t read that!” interjected Bert as Jake flipped open the folder. It was a copy of a script written out in longhand, on ruled paper. Jake held it to the light to read better, ignoring Bert’s objections. She arched her back in longing as he spread her loins with his strong, manly thighs... Bert started to get out of his chair but Jake’s harsh glare forced him right back down. Jake growled, “You just sit tight, my man.” He set that folder down and idly flipped open another one. Her
hips gyrated rhythmically to the jungle beat as Jango’s throbbing cock plunged ever deeper within her swollen, wet pussy. Jesus, he thought. What the hell was this?
“So these are your class assignments?” Jake asked, hovering over Bert, but Bert clammed up.
“It’s a porn writing class. You’re writing porn scripts.”
“No! they just write about their experiences.” Bert barked back.
Jake flipped through another script, looking more carefully at the contents. He found one that had been copied from a workbook with printed page numbers, and it was fairly obvious that Bert was saving the juiciest parts and discarding some of the more mundane material.
“Frankly, Bert, I don’t give a shit. If this is what gets you off, fine. But I need one of these scripts. I need the one from that girl named Kim.”Bert just stared passively at him, so Jake grabbed that expensive swivel chair and shoved Bert, chair and all, over to the filing cabinet that Jake had opened.
“Look at my face, Bert. Does it look like I’m fooling around here? Do you think that I’m the only one looking for these guys? And if I can find you, and trace that journal to you, then do you think that the mob can’t?” He saw Bert’s eyes get larger. “That’s right, Bert. They’re after this kid, too. And they’re not gonna be nice and polite like me, see? They’re not fans of the arts. They’re gonna beat the shit out of you and then take what they came to get in the first place. So you’d better just give it to me, so that when you’re lying on the ground and they’re kicking the crap out of you, you can honestly and believably say that you don’t have it. And they just might let you live. If they know you’re lying, they’ll just kill you – straight up.”
Bert was looking a little glassy-eyed.
“Let’s get that folder, Bert.”
Bert nodded, and started leafing through the folders, and eventually came up with one and handed it to Jake, who double-checked that it was Kim’s.
“You better give me your copies for these kids, too.”
Bert produced the folders for Shane and Maria.
“That’s a good boy, Bert. Say, if I were you, I think I’d have myself a nice bonfire with the rest of these, and then take a nice long vacation… but don’t go to Vegas.”
Jake took the next available flight back to Santa Fe and slept the whole way.
ACT II
KIM’S STORY
SHANE came over to babysit Ben while my parents were out. I know he has a thing for me. Shit, most of the boys did. He was a little goofy, but when he was around he made me feel good. I liked his jokes, and I like the feel of warmth that I got being around him. When I was next to him in a group, I felt safe. I wanted to love him like the big brother I wish I’d had.
I was running with a pretty fast crowd then, and lots of boys were chasing me. I guess I let a few of them catch me. There was this one guy, Keith, whom I was in love with. Or lust. I don’t think that I knew then how to tell the difference. Or maybe there wasn’t. He was the one that kept me up at night. On those hot summer nights I would just lie there on top of the covers with my window propped open, letting the cool night air waft over my naked body. I would dream that he would come for me some night through that window and take me away. Away from what? From the emptiness that we were all facing, from the abyss that is the world of work, of forty years of paycheck-grubbing drudgery that lay before us. We were all aware that it was the summer of last resort, of the last moment of carefree youth - yeah, right, like we don’t have anything to worry about. How can people say that?
SHANE'S DIARY
I was over at Kim's, to babysit her little brother. I go over while her folks were there, they were happy to see me and have me help their young son a bit. Kim had a date, so I was going to hang out until she or her folks got home. Ben's a cool kid. He's still at the age where everything is new, and nothing is too cool yet. I know that's not going to last. I started tutoring Ben and then they left, saying they were going to be out late. Her parents often stayed out very late, well after midnight. I never quite knew what they were doing.
Kim was evidently using this as a chance to go out dancing with some friends of hers - me not included. Her room was down the hall from the living room and I could see her picking out a couple different dresses to go out with and modeling them in front of the mirror.
She called to me and asked me to pick “this dress or that one.”
I suggested the black one, of course, and she closed the door. Shortly after she called me for help. I came in, and she turned around and asked me to zip her up, as she bent her neck down and I stepped behind her and pulled up the zipper. She was wearing a black bra and the tight dress that showed her cute little belly, her sexy hips, and a little dimple for the belly button. She casually held the dress loosely over her breasts while I zipped her up. Her neck and hair smelled intoxicating as I reached around and helped her with her necklace. She knew I was interested in her and she was just teasing me.
Back at the table with Ben, I was sitting across from him,and she stood diagonally, across from me, and leaned over so I get a good cleavage shot. “Are you keeping your nose to the books?” She asked Ben.
She tousled his hair and hugged him, and then slumped down in a chair next to him, and put her feet in my lap, then handed me the black pumps and said, “give me a hand with these”. Her legs were long and sexy and I watched with growing anticipation as she pointed her toe and arched her back slightly as I slipped it on. I made sure to gently hold her ankle and slowly slip the other shoe on. Then she casually stroked my thigh with her toe for just a second, and then got up as a car drove up, and then she was gone.
Time passed and I put Ben to sleep.
I wandered around the house, frustrated at how hot she looked and how good her ankles felt in my hands. I clicked through the channels on TV, but nothing was on. I paused for a moment at her bedroom, thinking about going inside and peeking around and what's in there, but decided not to.
I had the lights mostly off in front, and was watching TV when I heard a car drive up. I peeked out the window - it's the same car. It's dark, but I could see a couple figures in the car, and then I could see that she was being embraced and kissed by the guy. It looked pretty hot, but I couldn't see very well. Then I saw hands on her breasts, and another guy kissing her. But then she resisted, and I heard the muffled sounds of raised voices in the car. I turned on the porch light, and then the car door opened and Kim stepped out, or should I say pulled herself away from the guy, and I heard “hey, baby, where're ya goin? Huh?” “Come on, baby, were just having fun!” Her dress was bunched up around her waist and one strap was off her dress. She quick-stepped up to the house, shoes in one hand, clutch purse in the other, and fumbled for her keys. I opened the door for her, and she quickly stepped inside. I stared at the car. There was a couple older guys in the front seat, and they were looking meanly at me. I gave them a hard look and then closed the door as Kim went in behind me, and then I heard them drive off.
KIM:
I was taking advantage of how nice Shane was to have him watch Ben while I went out with some friends of Keith. We were supposed to be going out to this club downtown and we’d meet Keith there and his friends. I was so excited to get dressed up and go out, and finally look nice for Keith. I’d been doing exercises for my ass and my chest, and I’d even lost a couple pounds. I was proud of my nice firm little butt and the dress I picked out accentuated my curves nicely. I had to think long and hard about panties or no panties. I went with, because I think it can be sexy to take them off. I had a cute little sheer bra that would work well under this nice little black dress I picked up at Macy’s, and I had borrowed some Jimmy Chu’s that made my legs look even longer and my ass even firmer. My friend Cindy called these her “fuck me pumps.” They sure weren’t so good for walking, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. To match, I had these little pearl earrings to go with a couple fake strands, but they felt strangely reassuring next to my skin. A little silver clutch p
urse complimented my look. I was a little nervous but at the same time excited at the chance for Keith to finally see me as a woman and not just some kid he knew in school.
Keith’s friend Johnny picked me up in his silver Mercedes. I slipped onto the cool dark leather seat next to him, and he lowered his glasses and looked me over, frowning. We drove off quickly into the gathering darkness. I pouted my lips a little, and then pulled down the visor mirror to straighten my lipstick, when I realized that there were already a couple girls in the back of the car. Johnny is an older guy, maybe in his 30s, very nicely dressed and has a little black goatee. He was wearing a long sleeve white shirt with French cuffs and expensive-looking gold cufflinks. It made me feel a little excited, but maybe a little out of place.
The first girl was a very beautiful Asian woman in a blue dress, and next to her was a tall, blonde woman in a fire engine red dress, but who said nothing. The first girl asked if I’m a friend of Johnny’s, and I said no, I’m one of Keith’s friends, and she nodded but I don’t know if she knows him. Then the Asian girl figured out who he is, and smiled and said ‘Oh, yes, Keith. He’s a real cutie, isn’t he?’
Partway to downtown Johnny got a call. He deftly pulled the car off and navigated through the side streets down into Chinatown. We pulled into the courtyard of a small apartment building and the girls asked me to move to the back with them so Johnny’s friend could get in. I was glad to, because he was one huge dude and he’d squish those girls in the back like matchsticks.
The Summer of Last Resort Page 7
