Jackie's Week

by M. M. Wilshire

  "Donna, I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time. And it scares me."

  "Why, because I’m living with a man who scares me? Or because you finally learned that your sister is a loser? Jackie, every day I ask myself how in the world did my life get ruined like this. I was such a fool to marry him. I was young and naive, and here was this handsome hotshot. On our first date, he picked me up in the limo. I was just swept away by his money and power. I never asked myself any of the important questions. And every time I had doubts, we were off to some fabulous party somewhere, or doing something ordinary people only dream about. Now I find out he is just a punk errand boy for Ernie Catalano."

  "It’s okay, Donna. Obviously you loved him once. Maybe you need to remember that. You saw something good in the man. Maybe you can find it again. Tell me something. Do you still love him?"

  "Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe I do still love him."

  "How in the world did our lives come to this?" Jackie said.

  "Jackie, there’s something else. Bienenfeld got in trouble awhile back. A Times reporter was investigating the bank. My husband might have gone to jail for some rather serious financial indiscretions. But Ernie Catalano got involved and the reporter disappeared. Bienenfeld owes Catalano. I think my husband is an accomplice in a murder."

  "Oh Donna."

  "Welcome to my desperate world," Donna said.

  They crested at Mulholland Drive but got caught at the light. The unbroken line of cars in the opposite direction, curving up from the Valley and escaping single-file across the intersection towards the Beverly Hills side reminded Jackie of riders at a theme park moving through a fantasy land. Facing Donna and Jackie was the sprawling pre-historic ocean floor of the San Fernando Valley, ringed by jagged brown mountains and crowned in a light wreath of smog. Jackie looked at her sister, surprised by the sudden look of determination furrowed across her brow, as though the combination of swerving vehicle and curving road could somehow purge the welter of emotions seething beneath the surface.

  "Next stop, Paradise," Donna said.

  Chapter 15

  "New experiences can be overwhelming," Jackie said. "At times like these, I feel like such a fool. I can’t believe I bought a car this color!"

  They were standing on the Lexus showroom floor in front of Jackie’s new car.

  "It looks more like a cosmetic designer’s fantasy than a color for an automobile," Donna said. "I wonder if they sell matching lip gloss and nail polish."

  They stared at the Lexus, a blend of stealthy shapes and aerodynamic efficiency. A big fat guy was carefully removing any trace of dust with a soft white rag.

  "It’s a vintage baby diaper," he said. "Real cotton. I’m going to miss this car. Every morning I come out here and wipe it down with the diaper."

  "You need to get a life," Donna said.

  "Is that an offer, Sweetcakes?"

  "Not." She took a sip of coffee from a large paper cup. "I take it back. The coffee you serve is really tremendous."

  "It’s a special blend of Guatemala Antigua and French Roast," he said. "Then I add in a little cinnamon. It’s the preferred beverage of the lost generation who buy most of our new product line."

  "Oh them. The men who wear double earrings and do stuff on the computer."

  "I believe the correct term is metrosexual," he said. He got in and started the motor, which came to life vibrantly and smoothly. He slowly eased the car out through the showroom doors and into the staging area, where the morning sun sparkled over the flawless polished surface of the vehicle, taking a few minutes to bring to Jackie’s attention the many-colored dreams the vehicle offered, the most useful of which was a device to prevent weaving over the line when driving while intoxicated.

  "It’s all yours, Jackie," he said. "Take it easy at first. That much power can get away from you if you’re not careful. Call us if you need anything. You always get a free wash whenever you stop by."

  "Thanks," Jackie said. She eased herself gingerly into the front seat.

  "Jackie," Donna said. "Get out. I’m driving, remember?"

  "No," Jackie said, locking the doors. "And don’t get in. I need to do this myself. Take the limo home."

  "Jackie. Unlock the door!"

  "Nope."

  "I can’t leave you alone. I promised Dr. Black!"

  "I’m okay. Hopefully, I have police protection, not to mention Nasturtium and Bobby from The Thug Store. I’m seeing Dr. Black at 2 o’clock. Meantime, I am going to go try out my new toy and go have lunch with Johnson. He thinks he can talk me into doing the lineup over lunch. But he’s wrong. I have to find a way to tell him I’m not ready to face Bout. Other than that, I’m living my life with a whole new philosophy."

  "Which is?"

  "Dr. Black told me to quit worrying about dying." She put the car in gear and released the hand brake. "Well, I’m going now, Donna, thanks for rescuing me yesterday. And I really mean it." It was a side of her sister she’d never before seen. Donna, in rescue mode. For most of their lives, it had been the other way around.

  "You should not be driving. What if you have another blackout behind the wheel?"

  "Donna, I can’t return to normal if everybody keeps treating me like I’m not." The idea of just being normal again appealed to Jackie. She almost couldn’t wait to move in and spend an afternoon with Donna, washing each other’s hair, watching their old movies together, and swapping outfits. She realized, with a start, it had been years since she’d had that kind of relationship with her baby sister. True, they both had their problems, but the thought of sharing them together made the whole thing a tad less onerous.

  "I’m upset with you, Jackie. "Really upset."

  "Donna, come here and listen to me."

  Donna approached the driver’s side and leaned in.

  "You know," Jackie said. "When you quit dreaming, you don’t tell anybody. There comes a day when you’re in the bookstore and you realize you’re not going to meet a cute guy and you’re not going to get married and have a string of children. You’re always going to push the shopping cart alone."

  "That's really depressing, Jackie," Marsha said.

  "I think as of yesterday that feeling has left me," Jackie replied. "I’m starting to feel something stirring inside. Right now I want nothing more than to be your big sister again, the way it used to be. It’s a feeling I have of wanting to be with family while I still have some precious time left. And I’m going to be okay. I feel safe in this car."

  "Well," Donna said, "I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I will just pray that you really are okay. I hope so. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to have my big sister back. I’ve really needed you." Her eyes sparkled with tears and her ponytail wagged. Donna was in the prime of her life. Jackie could almost take strength from the sight of her.

  "Don’t forget about dinner tonight," Donna said. "We’ll meet at the house and start heading over there around 7 o’clock. But do not tell Dr. Black I left you alone."

  "I won’t say a word," Jackie said. She pulled out onto Van Nuys Boulevard and gave the pedal a light push. To her amazement, the car bolted forward, shooting into the next lane, nearly throwing her into the backseat.

  The fat guy was right, she thought. It’s powerful—like a jet. That’s what I’ll call you. From now on your name is Jet.

  She hit the Ventura Freeway westbound onramp and floored it. Jet gathered speed like an F-22 Raptor. She eased back on her white-knuckle grip, understanding Jet to be a sensitive hunk of metal, preferring to be guided rather than grabbed. The vehicle surged forward and began to perform, each surge of power greater than the last. Jackie was thrilled. She had a new car. "Go Jet go!" she screamed.

  If only I could freeze this beautiful moment, she thought. If only I could stop the entire world so I can fly along this freeway with Jet forever.

  Forever was not without cost, however, and her obligations to the here and now finally wormed their way back in. Jac
kie reluctantly doubled back to Van Nuys for her lunch date with Johnson to discuss the lineup.

  After parking the car in the pay lot, she made her way across the shady, tree-lined plaza, past the civic leaders of tomorrow—kids on skateboards—and the bronze statue of the naked Indian guarding the entrance to, or escaping from, depending on your point of view, the Van Nuys Public Library.

  Standing before the police building, she hesitated briefly before climbing the steps to the visitor’s entrance, whereupon she announced her intentions to the desk sergeant, clipped on a visitor’s badge, made it past the scanner and was led by a cadet to a large corner office on the third floor where Johnson greeted her with a surprise—a large police dog. The dog got up and sniffed her toes and licked her hand.

  "I’m not going anywhere with that," she said. "Get him away from me."

  "Fear not. He’s just a big sweetie," Johnson said. "His name is Heinz. He’s actually a retired police officer. I’m taking him home to live with me."

  "Why?"

  "His partner was killed last month."

  "Oh no."

  "Yeh."

  "It never stops, does it, Johnson?"

  "Nope."

  "So what do you tell yourself?"

  "I tell myself somebody has to hold the line. Otherwise you have anarchy."

  "Johnson," she said, "if you had a cop protecting me, we never saw him."

  "He was there. I told you he was discreet."

  "Well, I’ll have to take your word, I guess."

  "Do you want me to have him sneak up behind you and buzz you the next time you’re out?"

  "No. Definitely not." She decided it best not to mention the other protection arrangements now in place.

  "My man tells me you have a bodyguard," Johnson said. "Tall guy, with a braid and a large knife."

  "Oh shit, Johnson. I was going to tell you."

  At Johnson’s suggestion, they walked themselves and the dog the short block to Van Nuys Boulevard and grabbed a booth inside a local stir-fry joint. A short, leathery, impossibly old Asian man came to take their order.

  "We’ll have the special, Charlie," Johnson said. "And a couple of large ice teas."

  "I see you know everybody in here by name."

  "I don’t know that guy. I just call ‘em all Charlie."

  "From when you were in Vietnam."

  Johnson nodded.

  "You bigot. He’s probably a valiant Hmong who fought on your side."

  "True," he said. "But now he’s over here and his teenage sons are draped with bling and pushing meth."

  "Ouch. A cop’s world view. Let’s change the subject. I hope I like what you just ordered for me."

  "Trust me—it’s a beef and mango stir fry. They slice a steak real thin and fry it up with lots of fresh mango, ginger and garlic."

  "You ever been to Taxco?"

  "Nope. What is it?"

  "A Mexican place down the street. Donna and I have been hanging out there for years. Next time, we’ll go there. I once took a business client there for lunch, a Mexican guy, and he cried. He said the tamales were the way his grandmother used to make them."

  "It’s a date then," he said. "Jackie, I almost hate to bring this up, but the lineup is set for 2 o’clock. You’re going through with it, right?"

  "No," she said. "You’ll have to postpone it. I started seeing a shrink yesterday. That’s one of the issues we are going to discuss this afternoon. Right now, she thinks I’m not ready."

  "Okay," he said.

  "That’s it? You’re not going to swat me with a phone book being a no-show?"

  "Nope. I had a feeling you weren’t ready. So let’s just enjoy our lunch."

  "Thank you for that."

  Charlie brought the large ice teas and Jackie took a sip. "Mmm. Jasmine. It’s good." She took another sip. "So tell me. We’ve talked off and on for the past six months, but I don’t really know much about you. Have you been a cop all your life?"

  "I joined the Department shortly after I returned from my big Asian vacation. I was 20 years old and full of piss and vinegar."

  "You wanted to save the world? To protect and serve?"

  "No. I wanted to be able to beat the crap out of people I don't like and never have to look for a job ever again."

  "Job security. Now there’s an original idea. You’re full of surprises. Take this dog thing."

  "I like dogs. I worked with a dog in Vietnam, and did the same for the department when I was younger, but now I’m too old and fat. The guys who work with the dogs start at 5 a.m. They have a lieutenant and four sergeants above them and they all have to sit down and eat nails together every morning."

  The plate lunches arrived, piled high with rice and covered overall with a thick, savory sauce. They both took up chopsticks, which each wielded expertly. Jackie plunged a healthy amount of the mixture into her mouth. "Mmm." For awhile they ate without talking, the quality of the food arresting any function but that of consuming greedily the savory concoction.

  "So what’s it like being a K-9 cop and siccing your dog on people," she said.

  "It feels good. And if by people you mean felons, you of all people must be aware that felons aren’t people. They’re humanoid trigger pullers."

  "Heinz seems very polite. He hasn’t moved a muscle since we got here."

  "He is polite. Until he’s not."

  "And then what?"

  "Then he's horrendous."

  "Johnson, what are the chances of a lady like me ever owning a dog like Heinz? If I’d had a dog that night ..."

  He looked at her searchingly for a moment. "In a perfect world, every lady would have a friend and protector like Heinz. But in the real world, the chances of you getting a dog like this are zero."

  "Figures."

  Johnson nodded then suddenly locked eyes with her. "Jackie, this is terrible and I shouldn’t just blurt this out, but do I even have a chance with you?"

  "Johnson! Are you out of your mind?"

  "I’m sorry," he said. "I take it all back. Let’s just pretend I never said it."

  "Johnson, don’t go getting your feelings hurt. Besides, you don’t know what you’re asking. You wouldn’t want me if you really knew me. C’mon, Johnson, I’m a lush. I don't bathe."

  "It’s a start."

  "No, I mean a real lush. I do stupid things. I bought a car in a blackout last night. A Lexus. And I nearly went home with the salesman."

  "I know."

  "You know about the car?"

  "Yeh. My man told me."

  "Is he watching us now?"

  "No. I’m watching you now. It’s no big deal. Now let’s drop the subject."

  "Quit acting like a kid, Johnson. What could I possibly offer you? I am a basket case."

  "We all have problems. Everybody goes through hard times. Maybe you should see yourself the way I do. I like you just the way you are."

  The words expanded inside her, filling her, releasing her from the prison of shame and guilt. Her darkness was not counted against her by the man sitting across from her. A revelation.

  "Okay, I’m a little flattered," she said, then frowned. "Oh, wait a minute. I get it. You’re a man who likes to work with dogs, to train them to follow your every command and be obedient. And now you’ve found a woman who is weak and vulnerable and scared, and you think you can just overpower me and mold me into the perfect little woman to obey your commands."

  "Jackie, it’s not like that."

  "The hell it isn’t."

  "But it isn’t! Or is it? Is that what I’m doing? Geez. You know, you could be right. That is scary." He began to chuckle.

  "Johnson," she said, frowning. "What exactly the hell are you looking for?"

  "Well, it has nothing to do with training you, believe me," he said. What am I looking for? Very simple. Just to see you more often. Even in the midst of all this."

  "And do what with me?"

  "Please, Jackie. I can’t really explain it. There’s just this ...
this thing I feel when I’m with you. It’s crazy. It makes no sense. How can I put this? It’s more about this feeling that I have the day after I see you. I know I won’t be seeing you again for awhile, and it makes me feel kind of, uh, well, empty, or hungry or something."

  "Oh my God, Johnson! You are pathetic. You’re just lonely, that’s all. And do you know how I know that? I know that because you think I’m the reason you’re feeling lonely, but it can’t be, because you don’t really know anything about me. Not the first blessed thing! Do you ever wonder what I do all day? Well, I will tell you. I drink vodka and I vacuum all morning. Then I get the paper. The rest of the afternoon, I sit on the couch and watch court TV. After that, I read the paper, and then I go to bed and watch old movies. Am I getting through to you! Me! Vacuum! Vodka!"

  "That’s okay with me," he said.

  "Then you are an idiot. What kind of life could we possibly have together?"

  "Well," he said. "That’s a good question. The truth is, I kind of have this fantasy in my head about what it would be like. In my fantasy, if it ever came about that we found ourselves together, then I would take an early retirement. I wouldn’t have much money, but I have a friend who lives in a trailer on 20 acres in Dos Palos and breeds police dogs, and he wants to partner up with me. We’d move to Dos Palos and live in a double-wide somewhere on the 20 acres and train the dogs. We could live like country folks. Once in a while, we’d get in the pickup and go into town and browse around the Rexall Drug. I’d probably buy you some candy."

  "That’s it? That’s your big plan? A dog ranch in Dos Palos?"

  "It’s not as bad as it sounds. Dos Palos is quiet. No hustle and no bustle. It’s a respectable farming hub east of Interstate 5, in the middle of nowhere. The main crops out there are mosquitoes and whiteflies, I think. They don't even farm anymore, since the Enviros shut off their water to protect some kind of fish. Then you have the weather. The summer heat is absolutely blistering. Then you get a nice fall season followed by about three months of dense fog, followed by a spring full of allergens."