Jackie's Week (8 page)

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. Jackie 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."