CHAPTER 2

  I Was Technically NOT In A Coma

  (Dick disappears, I claim to have a black belt)

  I am sleeping in her bed. Last night I solved the case of the dead twin prostitute. The big sister claimed she watched a movie the night her sister was murdered. But masturbated to a woman on screen. She watched pornography. The perpetrator snuck in through the window unnoticed, crept upstairs, slit the throat of her twin, while down stairs she ejaculated all over the pleather couch.

  I traced the knife left at the scene to Barney's Fine Cutlery. A cutlery store owned by the dead twin's ex-lover Barney Hiller. The knife used in the killing wasn't even on shelves yet. Meaning only one person had access to such a weapon, Barney. He killed the twin because she left him and went back to the life of prostitution.

  I awake in the living twins bed, her name is Lorrie, she has beautiful chestnut eyes.

  “You really are the best private dick in town, thank you for solving the case.”

  “No, thank you for solving my dick, you got a mouth like a vacuum cleaner, doll face.” And it's true, she is so untouched and fresh. Like a porcelain doll.

  “Why don't you rest. Lie back down and close your eyes. I'll make us some tea and toast with jam.”

  I lie back, close my eyes. What an easy case. Cut and dry. No other possibilities. Of course unless...Wait...No that would be absurd. Unless for some reason the living twin went to Barney's under the guise of her sister, slept with him or used her vacuum cleaner skills, lifted the knife, came home and slit her sisters throat.

  Nah, she wouldn't do that.

  A cool blade rests on my throat. I open my eyes to see two fiery chestnuts meet my gaze.

  “You didn't figure it out until now, did you?”

  “Uh uh.”

  “Now it seem it's too late, huh?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Take a small sip so you don't choke, Tom! TOM!” The living twin said, her voice concerned, her facial expressions grief stricken.

  “What's going on?” Came the strong male voice. But only the living twin and I are in the black and white colored room. WAIT A MINUTE. WHY THE HELL IS THE WORLD BLACK AND WHITE?

  Everything goes dark. I hear voices in a far away place.

  “He said he wanted a drink, then something about knives and female ejaculation.”

  “He has a crazy imagination.”

  “Tom,” Came the soft voice, “Drink some water.”

  “It's not Tom, It's Tuck.” The male voice said and laughed lightly.

  “The last name throws me off, you know, Tom Sawyer.”

  TOM SAWYER? TUCK SAWYER! THAT'S ME!

  My eyes shot open, Lorrie Lovitt and my best friend Dick Pickett stood over me. Lorrie and her chestnut brown eyes flickered in the gloom of the hospital room.

  “Fuck.” I said and tried to sit up. I blushed a deep red, realizing I wasn't wearing underwear or any clothing outside of a paper thin gown.

  “Don't get up dude, you have a concussion.” Dick said. He placed a light restraining hand on my shoulder.

  “I have work. What time is it?” I asked noticing that Dick and Lorrie looked very sleep deprived. The thick curtains of the room hid any conditions outside.

  “It's about 1:30.” Lorrie said.

  “That doesn't make sense, I picked Dick up at around 3am. How could it be 1:30am?” I was going insane and backwards in time.

  “It's not, man, it's 1:34pm. I already called your work and told them you were in the hospital, you're covered.”

  “Thanks, man.” I felt a warm tinge for my best friend, he had my back and was taking care of me. I had been an asshole about the whole Lorrie situation. So what? The two were in love. Dick deserved to be happy. My own feelings were not important.

  “Do you think you can go get the thing I got for Tuck out of the car?” He said to Lorrie.

  “Of course.” She said, taking the keys from him, kissing him on the cheek, then leaving. Dick looked at me with concern.

  “I'm gonna be fine, man.” I said.

  “I know. But I don't know about me. This thing with Lorrie, I don't know about it.”

  “What the hell do you mean, don't know about it? You two are the perfect specimen.” I said and meant it but still somehow tasted acid.

  “You know how I feel about certain body types and we...well, we tried IT.” Dick said. My head still hurt, I was trying to fathom what he meant.

  “You tried what?”

  “You know, to, like, DO IT. And I had some problems.”

  “I WAS IN A COMA AND YOU GUYS WERE TRYING TO FUCK?!” I couldn't believe it. The nerve of those two.

  “You weren't in a coma, dude. Don't be all dramatic, you were just unconscious and the doctor wouldn't let us see you, so we found a store room and-”

  “WHOA. Okay, I get it. What was the problem?”

  “Her body. It's just so small and you can feel bones and muscle. It's weird. I'm not used to it. I tried to focus on fleshy parts, but it wasn't helping.”

  “What excuse did you use?” I asked.

  “The fact that my best friend is in the hospital and that we were in a hospital store room. Maybe I can get it up at some point, but I might have to tell her the truth, that I'm not physically attracted to her.”

  There was a slight THUMP sound from behind Dick. The sound was Lorrie Lovitt dropping a paper bag. She had heard the last part of his confession. Tears streamed down her cheeks and plastic bottles of Limited Edition Mountain Dew Pitch Black spilled out of the bag, rolling around in different directions, everything was still accept for those bottles, they seemed on a mission to all go separate directions.

  “Is that true?” Was all she could say, her mouth quivering, her hands shaking. Her pale face turning beet red at an alarming rate.

  “Yeah, kinda.” Dick said. His face unreadable. Lorrie bolted down the hall away from the doorway.

  “Shit.” Dick muttered under his breath.

  “Hey, Auntie-fucker, hand me bottle of Dew and fucking go after her, would ya?” I said.

  I was watching Law and Order: SVU. I watched it and got slightly involved. Then realized that even though I loved Law and Order: SVU and Fairly Odd Parents. I chose Fairly Odd Parents to be the most pleasant. I tried to down the bottle of Mountain Dew Pitch Black before any of the staff noticed, a couple nurses had peeked in and I managed to shield the bottle with the bed sheet.

  I clicked the giant 80's looking remote, conveniently attached to an even more 80's looking cord, I stopped on Mad Men. Realizing it was a repeat from season 2, still unable to change it, chugging the remainder of the Dew Black. Someone cleared their throat loudly and suggestively. It was a not-so-happy looking nurse. Her brows furrowed, arms crossed.

  “Just what do you think you doin'?” She said.

  “What you don't like Mad Men? Seriously? It's TV's most watched drama that's not on TNT.” I smiled at the sarcastic joke the nurse apparently didn't get.

  “You got a concussion, you can't be drinkin' pop. 'Specially Mountain Dew Pitch Black. That ain't gonna do you no good.”

  “You want one?” I offered attempting some type of peace offering.

  “I'm tellin' the doctor.” She said shuffling off.

  I sat up in bed. Retrieved my clothes from a clear hospital bag hanging from a hook, I assumed was for hanging bags. I dressed quickly. It felt good to have underwear on. I cracked another Dew Black and quickly laced my Chuck's(Converse All-Stars some of you may call them).

  I was about to AWOL from a hospital against medical advice. But someone had to intervene with the whole Lorrie and Dick situation. The hope in me was that he had gone after her. One would think one could assess the probables of merely walking with a concussion. That I could not.

  I stood up fast, as usual, almost went face first into the empty bed next to mine. The caffeine was kicking in but not fast enough. I felt drunk and something like Thorazine was in my system. Pocketing the Dew Black bottles, as much my pockets would allo
w, I stumbled down the busy hospital corridor trying to be inconspicuous.

  Stumbling here and there. I more than likely looked drunker than a skunk on a Sunday. Which made sense in my mind at the time. Chugging the Dew Black, burped, stumbled along. The elevators and stairwell were just a few feet away. I was going to make it, I was going to escape from the hospital! My mind flashed to Lorrie Lovitt and her teary eyes, I knew in that moment I was escaping for her. Not Dick. My best friend. But to see Lorrie Lovitt smile again, no red face, no tears.

  “THAT'S HIM RIGHT THERE! THE ONE WITH THE LIMP AND SODA POP!” I heard the voice of the upset nurse.

  “SIR, HOLD IT! SIR, YOU ARE IN NO CONDITION TO LEAVE THE PREMISES AT THIS TIME!” I heard a stern male voice shout. I was at the stairwell door. I turned to them, they were behind me, far enough away.

  “Stay back or I'll break out my black belt karate, motherfuckers!” I shouted quickly throwing the empty Dew bottle in their direction. I opened the door to the stairwell, hopped the steps three at a time, no doubt I would face plant at some point.

  The overhead speakers screamed out, “CODE GRAY TO THE STAIRWELL, CODE GRAY TO THE STAIRWELL, CODE GRAY, STAIRWELL.”

  I didn't know what the fuck that meant but it made me hop faster. I made a fast decision to descend all the way to the service exit. The doors used by the cooks, bedmakers, and maintenance crew. The very last door on ground level.

  I made it to the bottom.

  The door read: Level 1. It looked locked tight. I smashed my shoulder into it. The door shot open, smacking against the outside wall of the building. There was a loud feminine shriek. The smell of cigarette smoke hit my nostrils. The cold air chilled my piping hot skin. It was clearly fucking Winter out here.

  Alone smoking a cigarette, Lorrie Lovitt crouched against the speckled wall. The door slamming open had shaken her. She looked up at me, her eyes re-piercing my soul, she stood up fast.

  “Oh my god. What the hell are you doing out of bed and dressed with soda in your pockets?”

  “I'm escaping, duh.” I tried to make a joke.

  “Fucking you and Dick just turn everything into a joke. You need serious medical attention and here you are ready to run from something you need. Why are you two so self destructive?” She wasn't really asking, the whole time she stared me in the eyes, it hurt me.

  “Smoking is also self destructive. Looks like you just took a big bite of hypocrite pie.”

  “Whatever. You need to get back in bed.”

  “You know where my Zephyr is?” I asked ignoring her talk of me going to bed.

  “Your what?”

  “My car.”

  “Yeah. I have it.”

  “Okay, let's go.” I started walking toward the back parking lot.

  “Whoa, I don't think so, Tuck.”

  “Hey, you called me, Tuck.” Fireworks went off in my stomach.

  “That's your name, duh.” She said making my same joke, it made me smile. “Don't try to change the subject, I'm taking you back in there.” Lorrie placed a light restraining hand on my arm. Her hand was soft and surprisingly warm. I wanted to kiss her, but forced it out of my head, this made me squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh my god, are you OK?” She asked putting her other cooler hand on my forehead. It smelled like exotic flowers and cigarettes. Greatest smell ever.

  “I'm fine. Where's Dick?” I asked.

  “He ran off, I don't know. He had his car, I drove yours here. I was being stubborn and told him to leave me alone. And he did something no guy has ever done before.”

  “What?” I was scared of what idiotic thing it could've been.

  “He listened. He left me alone.” Lorrie was saddened and it hurt me to see her that way. She looked up at me. “Hand over the soda, I told Dick not to bring you that junk. Let's get you back inside, back in bed.”

  “Not a good plan. I just threatened the admitting doctor with karate. We gotta hit the road Miss Lovitt.” I said and shot her my ace-up-the-sleeve grin. She smiled and I think...blushed a little?

  “You're not a charming as you think.” She said with a curious grin. “Fine. But I'm driving.”

  “Fine by me. And yes, I'm pretty damn charming.” I said. Followed Lorrie Lovitt to the Zephyr. We sped off into the afternoon to find Dick.

  We pulled into the parking lot of Johnny Basil's Pizza. Dick's car was nowhere in sight. Lorrie's hair shined in the light of the early evening. We had drove hours from that far hospital to be back in the Inland Empire. The sun wasn't quite settling down, but on its way.

  I literally had to put the pain and devastation I had from Lorrie Lovitt's innocence on hold. Suck it up and swallow down. I would have rather died than been this close to a woman I was falling in love with.

  Lorrie had a certain away about life. Like everything was going to be gravy. No matter what happened, things would be alright. She went on long runs for fun! She volunteered at the V.A. Hospital, for free! I didn't know all this at this point in the story, so I will shut up now.

  I smelled pepperoni pizza, salivated, then wanted to tackle Lorrie and force her to confess how she felt about me. The feeling I had was that Lorrie Lovitt could fall in love with me.

  Johnny Basil's Pizza was where Dick delivered pizza's part time. But I knew he was not there, immediately. I let Lorrie lead us in. The place was owned by Johnny Basil, go figure. It was odd for a sit down place like it to deliver, but anyone in their zone got to have the best pizza in the world brought to them. The place was dark and set a relaxing mood that made you wanna guzzle beer and wine, then gorge on pizza or calzone, put some Dean Martin on the jukebox and relax.

  There was a large indoor fountain in the center of the restaurant. The fountain was a custom job. It depicted a large pizza pie on a pedestal, water streams shot out of the pepperoni. The smell in the air was always of cooking food, fresh cool water, and the tart smell of wine. Johnny only had three delivery guys and they had to split up days. The other two guys that weren't Dick were Nico and Lorenzo, Johnny's nephews.

  Nico was on duty that day. He looked like a 23 year old Joe Pesci. His hair was always in full pomade and he only wore button down shirts with slacks. His shoes were shinier than most Catholics virginity. Nico always chewed gum and talked like everyone in the room knew what was going on. There was no such thing as an inside joke to Nico Saucony.

  Nico suffered a shake down at the hands of the petite angel Lorrie Lovitt. For some reason she had trouble believing that he had no info on Dick's whereabouts.

  Three of us stood in the corner near the jukebox. Lorrie conducted the following interrogation.

  Lorrie: “You seen Dick around here today?”

  Nico: “Nah. He's off.”

  Lorrie: “You sure about that?”

  Nico: “Positive. I put it on my Mama's secret sauce recipe.”

  Lorrie: “Does Dick ever swing by on his days off?”

  Nico: “If he does hes got Tuck with him. They drink themselves stupid, scare off the customers, gorge on calzone. In fact, Johnny said he don't want Tuck hanging around here no more.”

  Me: “Sorry, Nico, just let Johnny know I was escorting this lady here.”

  Nico to Me: “Awright, but he ain't gonna like it.”

  Me: “I can handle Johnny.”

  Lorrie: “Has Dick tried to contact you today? Text? Email?”

  Nico: “No texts. I don't have email.”

  Lorrie: “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Basil.”

  Nico: “It's not Basil. It's Saucony.”

  Lorrie: “Thank you, Mr. Saucony, you may want to consider getting an email address.”

  After that Lorrie shook down the bartender, a cat named Miles, he didn't know where Dick was nor had he seen him. I wasn't worried but Lorrie had this fire behind her eyes. Like she felt that she had been the one who fucked it up. I wanted to hold her. Of course I did not.

  We got back into the Zephyr. Lorrie behind the wheel, me stepping all over months of fast food trash and Mounta
in Dew Pitch Black bottles. Out of my peripherals I saw Lorrie turn to me.

  “Sorry I went all Law and Order in there. I guess I can get a little whacky when I'm determined. It just doesn't make sense that Dick would disappear. You sure you called your guys' place?”

  “I'm positive. He's probably just cruising around.”

  “I should've never taken him to McDonald's to pick up his car.” She said aloud to no one in particular.

  “Is your car still at Deb's?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Let's go get your car then go back to the apartment and wait for Dick.” I suggested.

  “You can't drive concussion boy, forget it.” Lorrie rolled her eyes and I could see real agitation setting in. She was still more precious than any woman I had ever seen.

  I stared at the glove box. Realized I hadn't been in the glove box for sometime. Opened it, rummaged through it. We stayed in park, car off. Nothing new or interesting was in the box.

  Then I saw a neon blue card. The card was a V.I.P. Pass from Lou's Chubby Chaser Lounge. A strip club featuring thick, chubby, and large women. I had taken Dick there 3 months earlier. He became a regular after that. I remembered it as one of our greater bonding moments. We had a real “Guys Night.” The girls weren't half bad either, the smaller chubby ones anyway.

  So I realized that's where Dick was. But I had Lorrie Lovitt with me. Bringing her there would probably only make things worse. She already knew Dick had physical attraction issues with her. I thought if I could ditch her, then I could step out and hit Lou's and have a talk with Dick. A plan already formed in my head.

  “Look, why don't we just go back to our place and wait out Dick. After the concussion wears off I'll drive you to your car. But that probably won't be necessary, because Dick will be back. I have ice cold beer or warm bourbon if you like.” I said gently.

  “Bourbon sounds awesome.” Lorrie said. The sleep showing in her eyes. “You better not be trying to seduce me or get me drunk, something like that. With enough bourbon and the night I've had, it just might work.” She said starting the car. Slightly flirtatious? Joking? Either way my loins responded to that smile and comment of hers. I had to take a deep breathe and think about baseball.

  We pulled out onto the main street and headed toward me and Dick's apartment.