Weekends

by Lindy S Hudis

  She squirmed and rolled over, sleepily throwing her arm across his chest. He stroked her hair, kissed her cheek, and got out of the bed. Naked, he threw open the curtains, filling the room with bright California sunshine, and stood at the window. Two female joggers on the beach nearly collided into each other upon spying him. They whistled and waved, he smiled and waved back. He gazed out at the ocean, watching the frothy waves break against the sand. He decided he was glad he came after all. He needed to get away from everything, even if it was just for a weekend He worked way too hard at work, and needed this break.

  As quietly as possible, he crept into the bathroom and shut the door, careful not to wake Shauna. He removed his bandage and inspected the stitches on his forehead. It looked like it was trying to heal. Gingerly, he took a piece of sterile gauze, cleaned the wound, and applied a fresh bandage. His father was probably back in his room now. Jason decided to get dressed and go knock on his door. He snuck out of the bathroom to find Shauna awake and staring up at him with questioning eyes.

  "Where are you going?” she asked him as he was getting dressed.

  "I'm going next door. I want to know if my dad is back,” he told her, pulling on some biker shorts. The tight article of clothing accentuated his prominent masculinity.

  "Isn't that girl Shelly staying in his room? Maybe she knows something,” she said, yawning.

  "Yeah, she is there isn't she? Maybe she and my dad had an affair.” he winked.

  "Like we did?” she teased, throwing a pillow at him. He pulled on a t-shirt and jumped on the bed on top of her.

  "I'll be right back. Don't get dressed.” He planted a wet kiss on her lips.

  "I don't plan to.” She giggled coyly and slapped him on his butt.

  "As soon as I talk to my dad, we'll go see your father, okay?” he said, getting up.

  "Cool, but I also have to tell Michael. I don't think he knows yet.” she said, a thought she dreaded. Speaking of missing brothers, where the hell was hers? Where was he all night?

  "We'll deal with that when I get back, okay? I don't want you facing your brother alone,” he stated, pulling on a tight white polo.

  "You and me both,” she replied. “He can be a little funny."

  "I've noticed. Look, we'll get this whole thing straightened out, don't you worry your pretty little head about anything. Okay, angel?” He grinned.

  "Sure.” She beamed. No man has ever called her ‘angel’ before. She blew him a kiss.

  He blew her one back and quietly closed the door behind him. He went next door to his father's room and knocked. No answer. He knocked again—still no answer.

  "Shelly? It's Jason,” he called, figuring the girl was too frightened to come to the door. “Shelly?"

  Suddenly he noticed something on the floor, wedged in the crack at the bottom of the door. It looked like a matchbook. He picked it up and examined it. ‘Thirsty's Topless Entertainment’ the little thing read. His father at a topless bar—where did this come from? This was getting strange.

  "Dad? Justin? Shelly?” He pounded on the door. Still no answer.

  A little old lady in rollers poked her head out of a door across the hall and scowled at Jason. “It's Sunday morning. My husband and I are sleeping. There are other people in this hotel besides you, young man.” She shook her finger at him.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am,” he told her. She snorted at him and slammed the door. His head was starting to hurt, and he realized that he needed to eat before he could take a Vicodin. He headed downstairs, figuring he could kill two birds with one stone. He could grab a couple of bagels from the continental breakfast buffet and hopefully find his father.

  * * * *

  Donnie had snuck out the door without paying, stiffing her. As he ran away last night after stabbing Stephen, he met a slovenly street hooker about fifteen blocks away. She asked him if he wanted to have a good time, and he agreed only if it was at her place.

  She took him back to her squalid little apartment in an industrial part of town, not far from Thirsty's. They fucked and fucked all night, smoked some grass, and then passed out. Donnie owed her a hundred dollars. He left in the morning while she was still asleep, not leaving her a penny.

  As he snuck out of her apartment, he thought about his plan. He did what he came here to do, to kill Stephen, and that was just what he did. Stabbing that asshole in the chest and then watching him drop dead had been his dream for ten years. Now the score was settled.

  Now that he was even, he could go back to the hotel, get Shelly, find Lilly, and then get the hell out of town. He planned on driving back to Mississippi today; he just had to get his car back. That would be no problem. Just get over to the impound yard, break the locks, and go.

  He had been stealing cars and breaking locks for over twenty years, so he knew exactly what to do. He hoofed it on foot back to the Hotel Del Moor, prowling around to the back entrance to avoid any police that may be waiting. Evading the police was something else he was good at. But the California police were different—they were nosey, and they didn't leave you alone like police in Mississippi did. The police here were sharp. He knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible.

  Donnie pussyfooted his way to the elevators and managed to make it to his room unannounced. To his dismay, the room was still empty. There was no sign whatsoever of Lilly or Shelly. Fuck! He had to get them and get the fuck out of here. He quickly went over to the window and yanked the curtains closed. Then he opened them a crack and peeked out. No sign of them outside either. He thought about just making a run for it, and leaving the girls behind. Then he decided against it, he at least had to punish them for disobeying his orders and leaving the room.

  Lilly had run away before, lots of times, but she always came crawling back. And boy, did she get a whippin’ when she did. Donnie knew it was just a matter of hours before she was caught by the law, or became hungry and came home. Donnie didn't want his daughter running around California, though. This place was strange and dangerous. Besides, some of these rich people might take pity on them and take them under their wing. The last thing those whores deserved was to be living in the lap of luxury.

  California folks were way too nice to bitches and kids, they even had these fancy shelters for ‘abused women and children'. Those two didn't deserve to be treated like queens. He began to pace uneasily. What was he going to do? Was he to just sit here and wait? He certainly could not go wondering around the hotel looking for them. He couldn't even call anybody. Donnie had no choice but to sit here and await either of their returns. Boy, were they going to get the beating of their lives.

  He sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. Then, suddenly, he noticed something in the corner that he had not seen before, and a grin slowly spread across his unshaven face. He knew exactly what to do to temporarily solve the problem, something that always seemed to make life easier. He went over to the small, unobtrusive mini bar, yanked it open, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He hastily unscrewed the cap and chugged the contents. Now, life was good.

  * * * *

  Diamond was going to kill her, the little bitch. He had his knife in his pocket, and stormed up and down Hollywood Boulevard, searching for her. No chick ever ran out on him like that, embarrassing him in front of a customer.

  After Lilly jumped out the window, Johnny stabbed Diamond in the balls and took off. He never paid, and never got his watch back. Jordan happened to come home to change her shoes, and found Diamond writhing in pain on the floor. She gave him a towel to hold between his legs as she rushed him to L.A. County Hospital, where they had to wait and wait. Diamond was in the emergency room for five hours getting his testicle sewn back on. This was all that little cunt's fault. He did manage to stop at a pawnshop on Sunset and get five hundred dollars for Johnny Big Dick's Rolex.

  He walked bandy-legged up and down the street, looking in every alley and abandoned apartment house. He asked some squatters if they had seen a blonde teenage hooker in a purple dress. Th
ey laughed and asked him if he had any crack to spare. Diamond continued to scan the boulevard for any sign of Lilly. Finally, he spied her. He saw a tiny blonde in a purple dress in the distance. She had her back to him, but he was almost sure it was her. He angrily stormed over to her. He would cut up her face right in broad daylight, not caring who saw him. He reached the blonde and grabbed her by the arm, violently jerking her around. He jumped when he realized that it was a man in drag, who gave Diamond a kissy face and a wink.

  Undaunted, he staggered to Highland Avenue and made his way north. He could only walk so far without a sharp pain burning the area between his legs. Tired, he sat on a stoop in front of a souvenir shop to take a rest. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the wallet that belonged to Lilly. It had definitely seen better days, as it was dirty and falling apart. He opened it and studied the identification. Donnie McCoy of Blue Mountain, Mississippi. He looked a lot like Lilly, with blue eyes and blonde hair. That must be the man who beat on her. What a dumpy looking loser, and where the hell was Mississippi anyway? He removed the cash, put it in his pocket, then he tossed the empty wallet on the ground. Feeling a little hungry, he looked around and spied a coffee shop. He ambled over to grab himself a quick bite before setting out to look for Lilly again.

  * * * *

  Beverly, Justin, and Andrew had just finished breakfast at a little coffee shop. They mostly just picked at their food and sipped black coffee. After a few minutes of somber silence, Andrew suggested they go look for Lilly. It was morning, so it wasn't too hot yet. The three of them paid their bill and got up to leave. As they were walking out the door, Andrew bumped right into Diamond, who was walking in. Both men froze and eyed each other for a moment.

  Finally Diamond smiled slyly, like a used car salesman. He patted Andrew on the shoulder. “I'm sorry, brother.” Diamond grinned at Andrew, exposing his gold front tooth.

  "Hey, man, don't mention it.” Andrew told him and scurried out the door. Andrew looked back at him for a moment then headed down the sidewalk, Justin and Beverly following. Once on the street, they looked around, wondering where to start their search.

  A Marilyn Monroe look-alike approached them, grinning animatedly. “Hey, guys. Wanna take a tour of famous Hollywood graves?” she asked, handing Justin a flyer. She was wearing the infamous Seven Year Itch white dress, and it flowed in the breeze.

  "No, thanks.” Beverly said.

  "You'll get to see where River Phoenix died, where John Belushi died, where...” she continued.

  "I'm an ex-cop. I know all that stuff.” Andrew cut her off.

  "Lucky you.” she shrugged and planted herself next to a yellow hearse, soliciting more customers.

  They trudged south on Highland toward Hollywood Boulevard.

  "So, where do we start?” Beverly asked Andrew. “Should we make copies of her picture and post them around?"

  "That could take a week. We have to find her today.” Andrew told her

  "Why?” she inquired.

  "Because a teenage girl on the streets of Hollywood is a walking target. We haven't got much time. Besides, we're leaving tomorrow morning, remember?” Beverly fell silent. It was true, everybody was leaving tomorrow. Andrew put his arm around her shoulder. “Don't worry, Bev, I was not the Philadelphia chief of police for nothing. We are going to find her today. I promise.” he said emphatically. She smiled up at him. Now she knew where Justin got his appeal.

  "Hey, guys. Look here.” Justin called to them. He was holing what looked like a ragged deck of cards. He brought it over and handed it to Andrew. “Look what I just found on the street."

  "Well shit!” Andrew exclaimed. It was Donnie's wallet that Diamond threw on the ground.

  "What is it?” Beverly asked excitedly. She saw Donnie's picture. “Oh, my God!” she called out.

  "She is here. She must have had that with her.” Justin said, looking carefully over his father's shoulder and tapping the wallet with his index finger.

  "She was probably mugged.” Andrew examined the wallet, noticing there was no money. “At least we know she is definitely around here somewhere. Let's just keep moving. We're bound to find something."

  They made their way towards the corner of Hollywood and Highland, taking in all the sights. “Well, here it is. The famous Hollywood Walk of Fame.” Andrew announced and pointed to the grime-encrusted stars in the sidewalk.

  "Who is Dale Evans?” Justin turned his head to read one of them.

  "I think she is some cowgirl chick.” Beverly volunteered.

  "Come on, guys. We don't have time to goof around. When we find her, we'll pick up some Hollywood souvenirs, all right?” Andrew beckoned them.

  "Hollywood souvenirs? Great! I really want to remember this place.” Justin vented. Beverly smiled and gave him a gentle punch in the shoulder. He playfully did the same back to her.

  "Guys, come on!” Andrew called to them. They followed Andrew down the street.

  "How does he know where to go?” Beverly whispered to Justin.

  "My father has a sixth sense that is incredible. Trust me, he knows everything.” Justin told her.

  "Everything?” she raised an eyebrow.

  "It's scary, almost like E.S.P.” he nodded.

  A skinny man wearing a snorkel, flip-flops, and swimming trunks ambled by. “I'm going muff diving.” he informed them and sauntered on.

  Beverly and Justin burst into laughter. It was a much-needed release after the past few hours. “It takes all types.” Justin expressed, shaking his head.

  "I can't believe we're here.” Beverly said bemused.

  "I can.” he looked at her. “Because you care.” he smiled at her and looked her right in the eye. He bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

  "Thank you,” she whispered.

  * * * *

  Joe sat on the patio of his villa taking a deep drag off what was left of his joint. He knew that smoking grass out in the open was risky, but he couldn't care less. He wanted to gaze at the ocean and inhale the odor of the salty, ocean air. What a weekend, he thought. It was almost too much for him to handle. First, there was Angela, who he couldn't stop thinking about, then the woeful news about his father's illness. Now there was a hillbilly psychopath on the loose and his uncle was in the hospital—not to mention the missing teenager.

  Joe watched a man and woman holding hands as they strolled along the blue surf. He wished his weekend could be so serene.

  "What's going on out here?” Joe's thoughts were broken, and he looked up to see Angela standing there, clad in his white polo button down and nothing else. “I thought I smelled something.” She giggled as she made herself comfortable in his lap. He offered her the joint, and she took a long toke. He nuzzled her hair and scooted his hands up her thighs. She laughingly pushed it away.

  "We can't do that out here, too.” she snickered.

  "Why not?” he asked pressing her body into his.

  "Because we have things to do today. Allison is up my ass wanting to know where Beverly is, and I have no idea what to say to her.” she vented.

  "Does she know about you and Beverly?” he asked, taking the joint between his lips.

  "No way! She'd shit, and probably disown Beverly,” she told him.

  "Yeah, she's really weird like that. What are you going to do about it?” he asked her, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers.

  "I don't know. What should I do?” she asked.

  "I think you should tell her about us.” Joe demanded, looking into her dark shadowy eyes.

  "Really?” she asked, her eyes shining.

  "When are you leaving for New York?” he inquired

  "August.” she stated flatly. She didn't want to think about the challenging times that lay ahead for her. This was supposed to be Beverly's and her last summer, now things had changed. Shemet a phenomenal man and was now completely enamored with Joe.

  He unbuttoned the top buttons of the shirt and began to nestle his face in her breasts
. “I'm going to New York with you.” he said, barely audible.

  "Pardon?"

  Joe kissed her hard on the lips. “I said I'm going to New York with you in the fall. And you are going to spend the summer with me in Los Angeles.” he demanded. When it came to going after things he wanted in life, Joe was just like his emphatic father.

  "What? Joe, I can't.” she protested.

  "Live with me. I have a place in Benedict Canyon. I'll buy you a Mercedes, take you shopping on Rodeo Drive...” he stated.

  "Wait, wait. Joe, you don't have to buy me things. I'm not some Beverly Hills brat.” she interrupted.

  "Yes, I know. That's why I want you to come back to Los Angeles with me,” he stated firmly.

  "What about Beverly?” she asked him softly, taking his hand in hers.

  "You have to tell her about us.” he said.

  "Why?” she asked.

  "Because I'm in love with you,” he told her.

  "I'm in love with you, too.” she replied. He kissed her deeply and held her tightly in his arms. They embraced and watched the waves crash onto the sand.

  * * * *

  Lilly managed to get a few hours of sleep. She curled up under a palm tree wrapped in the prickly gray blanket that Nikita had given her. The clatter of Damian on his skateboard zooming around on the concrete floor of the dry swimming pool jolted her awake.

  "Jesus, will you be fucking quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.” Christina yelled to him. He gave her the finger and took off on his skateboard. He whizzed by them, out of the park and down Fuller Avenue.

  "He'll be back. He goes looking for a crack fix every morning.” Nikita explained.

  "How does he get money?” Lilly inquired.

  "He gives blowjobs. We all do.” Nikita explained matter-of-factly.

  "Gosh.” Lilly stared down at the ground. She knew what a blowjob was, and the thought made her shudder with fear.

  "So, why did you run away?” Nikita asked, munching on a box of Cracker Jacks.

  "My poppa beat me,” she said faintly.