Deja Vu–A Novella–Chapter Seven

"...and when you ran to me, your cheeks flushed with the night,
We walked on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight.
I held your hand...."
Simon and Garfunkel
For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her

“You gonna make it?” I asked her. “You seem to be having one of those days where the slightest trigger sets you off. It’s not too late to beg off on Coyote. I could run down to Maxwell’s and get burgers for everyone. Jay will probably get over it….probably.”

“No, I’m fine.” Sharon replied. “The heat’s been too much today. All I wanted to do was sleep, but even that’s gets to be too uncomfortable. I’m at the point where everything is becoming a chore,…so goin’ out to dinner with friends becomes a chore,…but it’s a fun kinda chore.”

I paused, turned….and looked at her for a moment before I spoke.

“Geez, Louise, Polanski,” I responded, “You really were born in Texas, weren’t you? That sounds like an incredibly Texan thing to say….a fun kinda chore.”

“Geez, Louise?....Geez Louise!?” she asked, instantly becoming defensive.

“What the hell kinda talk is that? What does that mean, anyhow?....Geez Louise. What a stupid thing to say. Who the hell is Louise? That don’t say anything, no-how…and you’re makin’ fun of me? I don’t say Geez, Louise. I don’t even know what it means. You always say, Geez, Louise, Polanski. It’s the three words that you preface everything with, moron. You musta said it forty times since you got to the house today. I try and make a good impression sometimes and coining the term Geez, Louise is not part of what I would even begin to think would make a good,…uh,…impression,…because sometimes you have to suck it up and just put a lid on that kinda contrived down homey-style stuff,…because it don’t mean anything….jerk-face.”

She then added, “You’re from Cleveland. Is that the way they talk in Cleveland? Geez, Louise….is that a Cleveland saying?”

“No” I replied “That comes from havin’ an Irish-Catholic mother who was raised in an orphanage. They all talk like that in orphanages. She was born an orphan.”

“No, she wasn’t, idiot.” she said,

“People aren’t born into,…ummm,…”orphanry”. People aren’t born orphans. They have parents when they are born. People have at least a mother when they come into this world. You are made an orphan when they decide to give you up or get taken away. People are not ‘born orphans’. That’s an oxy-moron,…moron.”

“Tell that to my poor Irish, orphan mother then, Polanski,…Geez, Louise.”

She sneezed abruptly,…and then grabbed the back of a dining room chair in an effort to steady herself.

She changed the subject by cradling her stomach and saying,

“Owwww,…maaaan,…That kid’s just not happy today.”

Deep breath.

I just stood there with a knowingly dumb look on my face.

“Are you finished?” I asked.

She sneezed again and did one of those moves where her hand went instantly to her face while she turned around because she wasn’t sure if anything came out and stuck to her upper lip. I handed her a previously used napkin and she wiped her nose.

She turned back around and lifted her face up for me to give it the once over.

“Anything there?” she asked.

“No,…booger-free, babe.” I said, after a cursory inspection. “You about ready?”

She said nothing while she crinkled up the napkin and silently looked at me. She then threw it in my face and ran/waddled out of the dining room. It bounced off my face and hit the floor.

Beasley came by and, in a flash, picked up the napkin with her teeth and scampered out of the room. Lord knows where she was going with it, Lord knows what she’s gonna do with it and Lord knows how many pieces it was going to be in when we got home.

Jay came around the corner from the kitchen and asked if everyone was ready. Time was a-wastin’ and the Gouda sandwiches were wearin’ off.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I said. “All of a sudden, the Mexican is sounding good to me, man. What do they have there?”

Jay said he really didn’t know what they had there because he was kinda stuck on the “especiale de la casa huevos rancheros”. He said he hasn’t looked beyond that, but then thoughtfully opined that they probably had some burritos and some kind of finger-foods that had either hard or soft tortillas as the main ingredient. He added that the Mexicans were big on cheddar cheese and tomatoes,…and there was some impending cheesy, melted goodness afoot,….if we could just make it to the car and get our sorry asses on the road.

Agreed.

Car-up.

Abigail and Voytek emerged from their bedroom and Sharon was slingin’ her purse over her arm when Jay and I walked into the foyer. Abigail, it seems, had changed again into some white shorts and a different flowered top and headband. Basically the same look she had on before, just a different floral pattern.

Jay, Voytek and I simultaneously did that thing that all males tend to do when they are about to depart one scenery for the next. We all spot checked ourselves to make sure we had “wallet, keys, spectacles and testicles”. It is a common ritual that is practiced the world over….from Accra, Ghana to Queensland, Australia.

That task complete, Jay opened the door and motioned everyone out before him. He was the host, as it were, and this was a little courtesy that he provided as a service to his invitees. Never mind that he wasn’t cooking, he was holding the door for everyone and payin’ for dinner.

Sharon and Abigail giggled and were engaging in some mindless banter about the color yellow while Voytek looked almost dissipated. I got the feeling that whatever he was on was wearing off and that he was waiting for the next dose to take effect.

Before I left the threshold, I turned around to get a visual on Beas. She was on the back of the couch, perched on the stars and stripes, chewing madly at Sharon’s discarded booger-rag. Jay somewhat sensed that something was amiss with Beasley’s vigorous intensity,…although he was not privy to the catalyst of her veracity.

“Must have some food on it or somethin’.” he opined.

Little did he know.

 

~~~~~~~

 

The night was upon us,...

We walked out the front door and down the crescent shaped walkway to my car that was waiting patiently for us to occupy. The night was a welcome relief to the heat that transpired during the daylight hours. A certain element of peace will unfold when you are placed in a position to look out over the canyon at the city below.

I never realized before, what a magnificent property this truly was.

It was as if we were untouchable in this crook of a mountain. The lights shimmered and danced below and I paused on the walk to take it all in for a minute.

Jay, sensing my awe, put his hand on my shoulder and said, “That’s what it’s all about, man. Bein’ up here. Bein’ up here gives you a sense of power, don’t it?.…the fact of the matter is that looks can be deceiving, Danny. It’s a rental property, man. Like everything in Hollywood, it’s all just borrowed… for a little while, at least.”

There was no sense of arrogance in his tone. It was as if he was simply declaring the game being played and was making it clear that some people choose to play it and some opt not to. Either way, it’s a life choice and really has no bearing on whether or not you could be deemed worthy or unworthy for whichever stance you choose. Jay knew that I was a minimalist and I knew that he is materialistic. When one invades the other, it’s almost as if a certain element of explanation needs to be displayed to the stranger in a strange land.

That, believe it or not, was one of the things I was finding endearing of Jay, as we travelled through the course of this day. He wasn’t as arrogant as I originally conceived. It was an error of judgement that I was glad to be a witness to before he and I parted brass rags again,…until the next uncomfortable meeting in which Sharon was, once again, stirring the drink that would have the two of us starting from square one.

As Sharon, Gib and Voytek walked to the car, I stopped Jay, and in a brief moment of weakness, confessed that I was not smart enough to know how to run a business or an acting career,…and I told him that I tip my hat to those who do.

He smiled.

And responded by saying that those who do usually don’t have the smarts to run relationships and they tend to negate the emotional side of life. It seemed to me that this was his confession to me, in return.

He paused.

“Look at Sharon and Roman and Gib and Voytek. Are they happy? Or, for that matter, am I?” He was smiling when he said it, but it was the smile, combined with his statement, which ultimately gave him away.

He continued.

“We have different conceptions as to what it means to be successful. That’s the easy part. It comes down to money and security. Your security comes from the fact that you bought a cool car. Does either of these things ever mean anything in regards to eternity, Danny? I don’t slight you because your vision is different from mine, I think you think I do,…but I don’t. A man chooses his own path. That’s what it comes down to,….and woe to He who assumes his lot if Life is greater than others’. It doesn’t work that way. We’re supposed to act like it does,… but it remains a falsehood, my friend. I am not wholly un-happy. I’m just like everyone else in life.”

He paused and then added, “I don’t slight you because of who you are,…I slight you because you don’t comb or cut your hair. That rankles me to the core….but you are also a very decent person.”

My mind was having a hard time ingesting the instant depth that Jay’s personality just took on. One does not have deep conversations whilst walking to a car on a way to a cheap Mexican dinner. I could tell that my lack of absorption was showing when Jay looked at me and then let out a chuckle. I must have had a pretty stupid look on my face.

The girls were trying to get in the car and Jay mentioned that Sharon should ride in the front seat due to her girth.

Just then, out of nowhere, Voytek exclaimed, “SHOTGUN!”,…as if to put dibs on the front seat.

Jay then rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, like I had seen him do multiple times over the course of the day….as if his mind was viciously trying to compute the reasons as to why, aside from utter selfishness, Voytek would insist on being in the front seat with a cramped Sharon in the back. The patience with his Polish compadre was beginning to wear thin.

“Get your fat ass in the back, Voytek!” Jay yelled. “Can’t you see she’s pregnant?”

Jay then looked at me and rhetorically asked, “How many times am I gonna have to say that today?”

Voytek paused for a moment and then looked at Sharon’s bulbous stomach as she leaned against the car, patiently waiting to get in and get off her swollen and tired feet.

“Oh, yeah,” he yelled back “I do seem to remember something about Shah-Ron being with child.”

He then reached out and patted Sharon’s belly in a very ginger manner. He leaned down and cupped his hands around his mouth so as to get some volume that was to be, momentarily, directed at the child contained within Sharon’s womb.

“Hey, baby, baby, baby!” he yelled at her stomach, “come out, come out wherever you are,….here, baby, baby, ba-beeeeee.”

Sharon leaned against the car with a look of bemused resignation. She then very subtly and silently mouthed the words,

“What a fuckin’ asshole.”

The amazing part was that Jay and I could read her lips from twenty feet away. It didn’t take a whole lot of imagination to guess that would be the only thing she was capable of saying at that point in time.

Abigail was becoming increasingly impatient with the amount of time that was being devoted to the simple act of getting in a car. She fiddled with her purse and then took out some sunglasses and put them on the top of her head….in spite of the fact that the sun was now gone.

The day was dead and so was Lady F’s patience.

“Are we goin’ or are we gonna stand out here while you two lovers look out over the canyon?” She yelled.

Jay and I looked at each other.

“Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” I said to Jay.

We walked over to the car and Jay opened the door and hit the latch that caused the front seat to fold forward so Voytek could get in. I did the same on the driver’s side for Abigail. Jay then climbed in after Voytek and pulled the seat back into the upright position. I climbed into the driver’s seat after helping Sharon get situated in the passenger side. This entire act took about three minutes of precious life.

I was the last one in the car. I plopped down behind the wheel and said, “Ok, Sebring. Get me to the Mexican ranch.”

“Put it in drive, Dan. We have to get off the property to get on the road. Then I can navigate.” he said.

“Right-O, Cap!” I said. I then put the car in drive and very slowly tried to navigate the car to the proper place for the exit of the property. Since this was the first time my car has ever been on the property, I proceeded with extreme caution to the exit button that was situated just before the gate. I pulled up slowly,…and then put the car in park. This action caused a sally of guffaws to emanate from the back seat.

“C’mon, man.” Jay said. “Just pull up and hit the button. It’s not rocket science.”

“Jay” I answered. “You don’t know this,…but Sharon does. I have this thing about pressing buttons from my car. I just can’t do it. It’s this phobia that I have. It’s too much like multi-tasking. So help me, if they ever invent a phone that can go in a car, I’m gonna be in a world of hurt. How the hell am I gonna press buttons and drive at the same time, man?”

“You’re gonna be in a world of hurt if you don’t shut up and just press the Goddamned button, Danny.” Abigail chimed in.

“Gib,…trust me.” Sharon said. “Danny really can’t multi-task. He also can’t do that thing with his fingers that Mr. Spock does, either.”

She then held up her hand and effortlessly demonstrated the Vulcan sign from Star Trek.

Ignoring the tirades, I put the car in park and turned the engine off. I got out and pressed the button. The gate began to slowly creak and move into the open position. Knowing that the window of opportunity was a small one, I hopped back into the car,…and frantically fumbled with the keys in an effort to find the right one to start the ignition,….because I didn’t have the foresight to put the imperative key between my lips for faster access.

After what seemed like a mind-numbing eternity, I found the right key on my ring of about twenty. I started the engine and put the car in drive. As I slowly advanced to the gate, the time allotted for exit proper was diminished,…and the gate began to close before I could navigate through it. We sat there in silence, as we watched the gate close, trapping us inside the property,…proper.

The only word spoken came after about fifteen seconds of silent disbelief. It was from Abigail.

“Asshole.”

I then reversed and slowly backed back up to the post that held the exit button. It was then that I saw my salvation, as it were,…growing larger in my rear-view mirror. Bill, the caretaker, was walking down the drive towards the button. He stopped behind my car and waited for me to press the button so he, as well, could exit the property proper. I waved him up to the driver’s side door.

“Hey, Bill.” I said. “Do me a favor and hit that button when I pull up to the gate, OK?”

He nodded and said, “Sure. No problem.”

I pulled the Chevy up to the gate and yelled “Now!” over to Bill. He dutifully pressed the button. Jay sighed from the back seat and said, “Danny, you’re too close to the gate. It’s gonna hit your front end. You have to be back by the button for your car to clear it.”

The gate opened and we all came to the instant, sobering realization that Jay was correct in his analysis of the problem at hand. I was too close to the gate. The gate opened and stopped when it hit the front end of my car. It then automatically shut again and we were, once again, left stranded on the property,….proper. I glanced over at Sharon and she sat with her hand over her mouth while silently shaking her head in utter disbelief. Voytek began snoring,…because staying awake during this exit debacle was just too much for him. Abigail was steeped in an icy-blue silent rage.

The gate once again closed, I backed up and yelled for Bill to hit the button again. He did,…and the gate, for the third time in the span of five minutes, opened to allow us to get from “on” property to “off” property. I pulled the gear shifter down to drive and slammed the gas pedal to the floor….failing to consciously keep at the forefront of my mind that this was a ’69 Chevelle with a 396 in it. We sat still while the engine raced to top peak, spinning the back tires and creating a cloud of blue rubber smoke that was going to linger far and wide, long after we got off the property,…if we ever got off the property.

After what seemed like another eternity, the gate began to close and I let off the gas a bit as the car grabbed asphalt. We sped with a screech towards the closing gate and narrowly made it out.

As we flew like bandits down Cielo, Jay tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Nice work, Einstein. Try and keep in mind that there’s a pregnant chick in the car, OK?”

I slammed on the brakes, the car skidded to a halt and I turned around. Jay thought there was gonna be some kinda confrontation due to his comment. I turned and looked though the back window and past his comment. I forgot something.

In a brief moment, there it was. Bill…..walking down the road in his bare feet.

I waved him up to the driver’s side window. He began to jog up to the car to see what it was that I wanted. I asked him if he needed a ride. He stated that he was just going to go down to Turner’s Drugstore to get a TV dinner and some cigarettes. Sharon leaned over and said she could scoot over to give him some room in the front seat. This, of course, strangely appealed to me in an unexpected fashion….and in an alarming one.

I got the impression from Bill that he was not one to make up his mind in a hurry. He stood there and thought about it for a minute. He finally said, “Ok” and walked around to the passenger side to get into the car. Sharon scooted over to make room.

“Hey, Bill.” Sharon said to him when he got in next to her. “I know that you know Gib and Voytek, but you never met Jay. Bill, this is Jay Sebring. Jay....Bill.”

Jay cordially said hello and his hand reached up between Sharon and Bill. Bill shook it and said, “Glad to meet you….you’re the one with the Porsche, right?”

“Yeah.” Jay said. “That’d be me.”

A strange silence permeated the car now that there was someone else in it. I drove down the street and made a right off the cul-de-sac and onto Cielo proper. I could tell that Bill didn’t want to be in such close proximity with the tenant of the estate that he was supposed to be watching. It was in his body language. He just as soon be riding on the hood of the car rather than to be next to the beautiful Sharon. I, on the other hand, relished being this close to her,…even if I wasn’t sure as to why.

Odd.

I think the heat of the day was getting to me as well. Just somethin’ about her sweat….that was just so un-nerving.

I turned on the radio to break the monotony of the silence and to get my mind off of the fact that Sharon’s arm and leg were now touching my arm and leg, respectively.

For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her was playing.

“Yeah, Baby,…Simon and Garfunkel,…Good call, Dex” I mused aloud, to no one in particular.

“…and when I awoke,….and felt you warm and near,…I kissed your honey hair,…with my grateful tears,…oh, I love you, girl.....”

I reached over and shut the stereo off as quickly as I turned it on. Sharon, who was silently looking at her fingernails, stopped fudging, looked up at the road and then turned to me in silent disbelief. She said nothing, but instantly burst out laughing at the asinine display she just witnessed….never having a clue as to why.

“Lemme see if I got this right.” She said. “You turn on the radio,…say something to the effect that you are pleased that Simon and Garfunkel are on,…then you turn it off.” She paused and shook her head. “You’re a straaaange bird, Daniel”.

Luckily for me, the import of the lyrics fell upon deaf ears. No one picked up my discomfort at the lyrics being sung. As we travelled down Cielo, I was eternally grateful that this moment would forever remain my secret. The moment passed.

Then Bill broke the awkward silence.

“And when I awoke and felt you warm and near, I kissed your honey hair, with my grateful tears… I love you, girl….I like that. I like those words. They’re like poetry. Paul Simon is a good words writer. Those are good words.” He said,…to no one in particular.

In a panic, I struggled to put my words on top of his words.

“Simon ain’t nuthin’ without Garfunkel, Bill! They should never break up because Simon is just gonna go straight down the shitter without Garfunkel. Garfunkel is what makes those guys. Simon can’t sing like Garfunkel, Bill. I bet you a twenty dollar bill that, if they ever break up, Garfunkel is gonna be the one who shines in the solo forum.”

Bill, as usual, paused before answering.

“I think Paul Simon is a good words writer. Think about it,…and when I awoke and felt you warm and near, I kissed your honey hair with my grateful tears. I love you, girl….those are some spot on words, man. Just beautiful”.

I fidgeted in my seat.

“Shut up, Bill. Paul ain’t crap without Art and Art does not a Paul make. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. It’s not poetry. Clothed in crinoline,….of smoky burgundy?,…c’mon man. That’s not poetry,…that’s someone who’s tryin’ to sound like a poet but isn’t. It don't rhyme, either. That line says nothing at all. Smoky burgundy my ass.....what the fu...?”

Sharon, alarmed at my venom, turned to me and whispered, “C’mon, Danny. Knock it off. He’s just givin’ his opinion. Take it easy.”

She then turned to Bill and asked, almost as if she was talking to a ten-year-old, “Do you like music, Bill?”

Before he could answer, Voytek yelled from the backseat, “Lady F’s not 'shamed of her body!”

Warmer and more well-timed words such as those could not have been spoken at a more perfect moment in time. He has just released the fury of Lady F….with the awkward revelation of her point of view in regards to her own nakedness,…thus sparing me of having to explain why I turned the radio off in a moment of haste.

Jay chimed in.

“Speakin’ of which,…how’s the whole guesthouse thing workin’ out for you, Bill? Do you spend a lot of time in the yard at night?” he said, subtly steering the conversation over to the lack of drapes issue that we talked about earlier.

“I usually take the dogs out back of the guesthouse at night, Mr. Sebring.” He said. “If there is too much activity out front, they start to get rambunctified. I find it’s best to just take them to the backyard of the guesthouse.”

The car fell silent as each occupant of said, save for Bill, tried to comprehend the term, “rambunctified”.

After a moment,….

“Hey, Sebring?” I asked “What’s the quickest way to Turner’s?”

“Take a left at Benedict Canyon Boulevard and it’s right on Sunset.” Jay and Abigail answered in unison.

There was hardly any traffic out. Just an average drive though the canyon. I wished Beas was with us. She just loves the car and she just loves Sharon. It would have been aces had we took Beas and left Bill,…but alas, this was the way it was tonight. The thing about Beas, God bless her, is that she can’t hold utensils due to the fact that she is devoid of thumbs,…otherwise she’d be goin’ with us. The banter in the backseat began to pick up a bit between Jay and Voytek. I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wind in my left ear and Sharon’s cursory musings to Bill in the front seat. They were talking about how nice it was that Terry’s girlfriend left the Christmas lights on the fence after they left,….which instantly reminded me,…I forgot to screw in the blue light bulb again when I left. I have never done that before. Go to Sharon’s, unscrew it when I arrive, screw it back in before I leave.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was some strange omen as we tarried towards El Coyote via Turner’s Drugstore. Something left un-done that was going to be the catalyst of other things to become undone in a cataclysmic annihilation in regards to the world as we know it.

I like to give things that aspect of doom,…even if I don’t believe in it as a whole. Being a man of simple Christian beliefs, those kinds of instances only play out in my mind and not in reality. Yet, it makes for high drama in my finite world,…. when everyone in the car is talking to everyone else but me….it’s as if I allow my mind to run wild. When the mind runs wild, like a child, it doesn’t run safely and various scenarios tend to play out in one’s head when the so-called stars are not aligned just right,….due to my carelessness of not screwing the blue light bulb back in when I left the premises.

I came to the rapid conclusion that it was I,…who, indeed, had left the portal open for my friend’s enemies,…. I, single-headedly, left that gate open for demons to enter,…not in the physical sense of course, but in the ethereal sense.

There was no need to get alarmed because, once again, I am a man of simple Christian beliefs.

I dismissed my thoughts as I pulled into the parking lot of Turner’s Drugstore,…the light from the sign and the prospect of Bill exiting my car gave me a new lease on life.

Bill got out and thanked us for the ride. He told Sharon that he would be sure to water the lawn and bushes in the morning. Jay told him that it was nice meeting him and Abigail smiled and waved as he made his way in though the double glass doors that gained him entrance into the fluorescently lit drugstore.

“Which way to El Coyote from here, Jay?” I asked.

“Turn right.” was his only reply,….

To Be Continued…