Last thing Truely could remember it was the third quarter and the Chargers were ahead by a field goal. When he woke up the next morning the TV was still jabbering and his leftover room service food was sitting on the bedside table sort of fossilized. He showered and dressed for golf and drove over to pick up Mose at his hotel. They would meet Mike at the course. Tee time was nine.
The great thing about Mose was that he and Truely had established a friendship that stayed put no matter where either of them might wander, for how long, or with whom. When they were together they reverted mostly to their original boyhood selves — Mose Jones and Truely Noonan, two ordinary guys from Hinds County, Mississippi. Buddies. No amount of success or travel or enlightenment or new companions ever altered the basis of their connection — that they came of age together in a time and place where life seemed simple in spite of being very complicated — and they considered themselves to be the same, simple and also very complicated.
They hit a few high spots in the attempt to catch up on the drive out to the golf course. “Mike is a decent guy,” Truely told Mose. “He’s trying to get the charges dropped against Arnold.”
“What are the chances?”
“If we can get Arnold’s mother involved it might give us some leverage.”
“His mother? Isn’t she locked up too?”
“Jerry paid her for her silence in the past, but now maybe she needs to speak up. That’s what Wineberg thinks.”
“So we’re talking a little blackmail here?”
“Arnold is naive. You wouldn’t think a streetwise guy could be naive, would you? But he is. He loves Gordo, man. He would never do anything he thought would hurt Gordo. But Gordo convinced him he was going to kill himself — and if Arnold was a true friend he would help him go out on his own terms. He convinced Arnold that that was what a real friend would do. He knew Arnold had that gun. He figured Arnold could get the pills from his mother. He was going to try to load up on painkillers — then go out with a bullet to his head. One shot.”
“That was pretty stupid, man. Naive or not. Arnold should know better.”
“Damn stupid. But he realized that and in the end he stepped in and saved Gordo’s life. That’s what I’m saying. He loves Gordo.”
“What is this Gordo guy like?”
“You want to know the truth? Gordo is a good guy. Not perfect — a little reckless and rambunctious for sure. I’d say he made a pretty good soldier. I always liked Gordo. Even though I’d like to get my hands on him right now and slap some sense into him. He’s lost his way a little — the war, you know. All he’s endured. His family drives him a little nuts — but whose doesn’t?”
“I know what you’re saying,” Mose said. “We’ve taken on a couple of returning soldiers out at Jackson’s Gem. Rehabbing with prosthesis — you know. Two guys lost legs. One woman lost her arm below the elbow. They’re all doing pretty good, but it’s damn hard.”
They pulled up at La Jolla Country Club and unloaded their clubs. Mike was waiting for them. He brought another guy, an attorney from his firm, to be their fourth. The mood shifted immediately. That was the great thing about sports — in this case, golf. It demanded your full attention, your energy, your focus, your best effort, and if you weren’t careful, in this case, your money too. It didn’t really erase your problems — that wasn’t the point. But it let you escape the weight of them for four hours or so, and that alone was worth a lot. Truely was happy to be on the golf course again. He felt his competitive side come forward. “Okay, Mose, we both know golf is not your real game. I’ll give you two strokes a side.”
“The hell you will,” Mose said. “I don’t need your damn strokes. I’ll beat your ass straight up.”
Truely laughed. This was the Mose he loved.
“Mike,” Truely asked, “you up for a friendly wager?”
“Hundred dollars a side,” Mike said. “Press when you’re two down.”
It was a beautiful day. The weather was perfect, cool and sunny. The course was immaculate, the ocean view stunning. Somewhere around the fifth hole Truely started wondering why he had never taken Arnold out for a game of golf. Did he think it wouldn’t be the right game for a guy like Arnold? Did he think Arnold wasn’t country club material? They could have gone over to Harding or Olympic anytime — he could have taught Arnold the game, at least given him a chance to like it. He was bothered by the missed opportunity — by a long list of missed opportunities. When Arnold got released Truely had a lot of making up to do.
Mose rode in the golf cart with Mike. It was clear they had a lot to say to each other and Truely hoped at least some of their conversation was in regard to Arnold’s case. Mose didn’t shy away from asking questions. What Mike had failed to mention was that he was a scratch golfer. After they finished their round the other three were forking over their money. Mike pocketed six hundred bucks before they even sat down in the club to have drinks and lunch.
“Whoa, I hope you’re as good a lawyer as you are a golfer.” Truely had just peeled off four fifties. “Matter of fact, man, I’m counting on it.”
“Trust me.” Mike laughed.
AFTER GOLF, Truely and Mose headed back down to the Hyatt to discuss business. Once before Mose had borrowed some start-up money from Truely, to expand Jackson’s Gem to include a weight-loss facility and spa. He had paid him back in full within the following six years. But this proposal seemed something different.
They sat up in Truely’s hotel room at the small table in front of the sliding doors to the terrace. Truely cracked the door to allow the air to stir.
“Okay,” Mose said. “Here’s the concept. I want you to hear me out before you ask questions — you good with that?”
“You talk, I’ll listen.”
“Jackson’s Gem is thriving, right? I brought the financial statement to show you. We’ve grown steadily — have a staff of over forty now. We still specialize in rehabbing athletes — that’s still our primary focus. Right now we’re working with twenty-eight professional athletes involved in eleven sports. We’ve hired some of the best trainers in the profession — I brought their profiles. They’re impressive. I guarantee you that.
“Right now our clients are housed independently at local hotels. That’s become problematic. There’s the issue of rental cars and having to eat at hotel restaurants that don’t meet our dietary needs, just to name a few. So we’d like to build a first-class residential facility — along the lines of the finest resort hotel — to house our rehabbing athletes and other clients. Top of the line — all the way.”
Truely listened while Mose outlined his concepts for the expanded spa and weight-loss program and the addition of a post-detox program for people who wanted to reestablish their physical health after leaving rehab. Mose talked about the clientele and the staff and his vision for the future. There was excitement in his voice. It was obvious that Mose loved the work he was doing in Mississippi. Truely liked hearing him talk about it too.
“So, this is it in a nutshell,” Mose concluded. “We’d like to break ground on the new Jackson’s Gem. I’ve located an ideal tract of land out in Hinds County — actually it’s not all that far from your family’s place out there. Eight miles maybe — toward town. We can get a good-sized acreage — eighty-seven acres to be exact. The price is right. We envision a first-rate resort-type residential facility which will include all the bells and whistles. I’ll show you our first-round renderings. Snake Creek runs through the acreage too. Did I tell you that? It’s a beautiful tract of land, Truely. I wish we could walk it together. I think you’d be impressed.”
“Snake Creek?” Just the thought of his boyhood haunt made him smile.
“Our concept is a luxury well-being resort. The first of its kind in Mississippi — maybe in the whole Southeast. Look.” Mose held out his arm. “I’m getting goosebumps just talking about this. I think we could create something unique and socially beneficial — something Jackson, Hinds County, and the state of Mi
ssissippi could be proud of! I’m here to ask for your help.”
“Wow.” Truely was imagining Gordo going down to Mississippi to Jackson’s Gem, checking in for a summer of rehabbing. It wasn’t a crazy idea.
“Wow? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“How can I help?”
“I want you to be a primary investor — serve on the board too. Here.” Mose pulled a slip of paper from his case. “I’ve jotted down some proposed figures. Look this over. Let me know your thoughts. I know this thing is a go. If I weren’t certain I wouldn’t ask you to get in.”
“If anybody can do it, man, it’s you,” Truely said.
“Let me show you this then.” Mose reached into his case again. “This is a list I put together of potential investors. Look it over.”
Truely glanced over the list. The names that jumped out at him were Hastings and Courtney, some high-profile Jackson folks, a handful of sports icons and a couple of entertainers from the music industry.
“One more thing, man. Did I tell you I’m trying to talk Tay-Ann into coming to work for me? She’s thinking it over. I’m offering her double what they pay her out at the hospital.”
“Great,” Truely said.
“She needs a change after everything. Could use the money too. Seemed like a good idea.”
“Speaking of good ideas,” Truely said. “We get this mess with Gordo straightened out — then maybe we’ll send him down to the Gem and let you rehab him. What do you think?”
“Done,” Mose said.
“You been overachieving since we were kids,” Truely said. “If I can help you get this thing off the ground, I’m in. Count on it.”
They shook hands. “You won’t be sorry,” Mose said.
ON TUESDAY NIGHT Bobby Gavin flew Courtney back to San Diego in his private plane. She was in good spirits. Truely had expected her meeting with Hastings and his legal team to be disturbing to her, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Or else she had made peace with the proceedings before arriving so as not to add her anxiety to his own. Truely was actually glad to see her, although he didn’t really understand why she was staying down in San Diego. He had tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary. She had only been able to get in to see Arnold one time so far. She took a backseat to Truely in this regard. Instead she spent time with Vonnie — actually quite a bit of time. Vonnie had taken to calling her regularly. She also drove Coletta to the grocery store now and then and once to the doctor to get her blood pressure checked. Otherwise she busied herself in her room, reading, making phone calls, doing yoga. She took long oceanfront walks most days. She worked out in the hotel gym, which was less than stellar to say the least. Lots of nights she and Truely had a light supper together and maybe watched some TV afterward. Truely kept her posted on the legal twists and turns of Arnold’s case — which to his way of thinking were too few and far between. He was fairly discouraged.
One evening Courtney returned to the hotel with Vonnie in tow. Vonnie insisted she wanted to show Truely the items Courtney had bought her. “Wait,” she told Truely, who was watching the six o’clock news in his room. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.” She proceeded to lay out her purchases, display-style, on Courtney’s bed. There were basically two outfits made up of assorted pieces. Vonnie laid the pieces out with great care, including the belts, earrings, patterned tights, a pair of tall leather boots and the pair of Nikes she had chosen. Courtney had also bought her a purse — which she referred to as a pocketbook, like girls from Mississippi. “Wait until you see the pocketbook Courtney got me,” she called out to Truely. “You gon love it!” When she was ready, she yelled again through the adjoining door. “Okay, then. You can come in here and see.”
Truely went into Courtney’s room, where she sat quietly in the reading chair, watching Vonnie delight in her new stuff. “Ta-da!” Vonnie yelled. “Courtney let me get all this,” she said. “Nothing cheap neither. Everything nice.”
Truely wasn’t sure of the protocol in a situation like this. His experience with teenage girls had pretty much ended when he stopped being a teenage boy. “Nice,” he said, but he could see that that was an inadequate response. “Actually,” he said, “very cool stuff, Vonnie. Sweet. Totally. For sure.”
Vonnie laughed. “You crazy,” she said. “What you like best though? Pick out your favorite thing.”
“These boots right here,” Truely said, spontaneously. “I knew you was going to say that,” Vonnie insisted.
“Courtney, what you like best?”
“Either your shirt right there” — Courtney pointed — “or your pocketbook.”
“Yeah,” Vonnie said. “Me too. I just like it all.”
“Well, let’s order some supper and get you fed,” Courtney said. “Then we need to get you back home.”
“Oh,” Vonnie exclaimed. “Do I have to go home? Can’t I just stay here with you? Just one night. I been wanting to stay in this hotel.”
Courtney laughed. “Not on a school night,” she said. “Maybe this weekend. We’ll see what Coletta has to say.”
“Maybe Friday night?” Vonnie asked.
“We’ll see,” Courtney said. That had been their mother’s response of choice to the endless requests Courtney and Truely had made as kids. It struck Truely how Courtney might have mothered her children the same as their mother had mothered them — if she had been fortunate enough to have children. It was obvious that she enjoyed Vonnie.
“Vonnie, did you tell Truely why we went shopping for all this stuff?” Courtney asked.
“I got it right here.” She dug through her Old Navy backpack and located a tattered brown envelope which she pulled out and handed to him. “My report card,” she said.
Truely looked at it — all B’s except one A in social studies and a C in PE.
“It’s the honor roll,” she said. “That C in PE don’t count against you getting on the honor roll.”
“A C in PE? How hard can PE be?” Truely asked.
“They take points off if you forget your gym clothes,” Vonnie said. “Also they make you participate when it’s your time of the month — even if you don’t feel good.”
“Truely, you sound like Daddy used to,” Courtney said. “He always focused on the lowest grade instead of the highest.” It was true too. Truely realized he was patterning after his daddy same as Courtney was their mother.
“Vonnie, this is a good report card,” he said. “You should be proud of yourself. Keep up the good work.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
They ordered shrimp cocktail and chef salads and ate supper in Courtney’s room. Twice Vonnie asked, “Y’all sure you don’t want me to try on my outfits for you? You could see how they look on.”
“We know they look great,” Truely said.
“It wouldn’t take but a few minutes,” she insisted.
“No,” Courtney said. “I can vouch for how great you looked in those outfits. Truely will just have to take my word, because we need to get you home. Coletta is going to worry. Did you call her?”
The three of them loaded into the Escalade with Vonnie’s packages in tow. They drove her home and watched her run inside the apartment as if she didn’t want anybody to see that she had sacks of pricey items in hand.
When she was safely inside and Truely was turning the Escalade around in the small drive, Courtney said, “That is a sweet girl right there, Truely. She is a ball of fire for sure. But she is just as sweet as she can be.”
“Next thing you know you’ll be saying, ‘Bless her heart.’ ”
She laughed. “You can take the woman out of Mississippi …”
“But?”
“I have to say it, True. Bless her heart! There. I said it. Bless Vonnie’s heart!”
“Atta girl.” He laughed.
Twenty-nine
IT WAS LESS THAN TWO WEEKS until Christmas and Truely was dreading it — even more than usual. Seeing the gaudy decorations all over the place in sunny San
Diego was absolutely depressing. At least in San Francisco you could count on a chill in the air, some morning fog to stall traffic, maybe a little rain or an icy wind off the ocean. He and Courtney had agreed to spend Christmas Day at her place in Saratoga. Myra had already put up the decorations — tree and all. Lola would be coming to stay too. It would be a long shot better than going home to his loft in the city and staring at Arnold’s drooping tent — or staying at the Hyatt ordering Christmas dinner from room service.
To Truely’s dismay, Mike Wineberg’s legal team had not come up with anything powerful enough to force Arnold’s release. It bothered Truely. “Look man,” he told Mike, “I want Arnold out of here — bad. You understand that, right?” Mike assured Truely he was doing all he could.
EVERY WEDNESDAY Truely went to the jail for regular visiting hours. He stood in the too-long, mostly female line of mothers, girlfriends, sisters, daughters and babies. Today he was one of only three men in the crowd. He went through security and the metal detector, showed his paperwork and ID, and took a seat in the waiting room, where he would busy himself people watching until he was called. It could take as long as two hours to accomplish a fifteen-minute visit. But it was worth it to Truely. Already he had learned to recognize members of certain families that he saw week after week. The jail visitors were primarily minority — and poor. A good portion of them seemed not to speak English. It was not Truely’s world, this jail culture. There were children here week after week, sucking on pacifiers, bringing small toys to play with on the dirty floor, growing up visiting their fathers or their mother’s latest boyfriends in jail week after week. It was as normal to them as going to church used to be to Truely and Courtney.
It appeared obvious to him that the other visitors in this tedious process knew he was an outsider. Some of them nodded to him in recognition. No one struck up a conversation though. Truely had to remind himself again and again not to stare at the others, not to eavesdrop, not to be mesmerized and off-put by the casual, almost cheerful way so many of these families approached incarceration.
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