The Life of Lol (6 page)

“C’mon, numbnuts”, he said, “come meet the rest of the afflicted, watch out for the feds though.”

Lol didn’t know what  ‘Fed’ meant, but she followed him into the alley.  The woman was known as Dreary, she was just old and miserable.  She hated kids, but all the same she produced a furry old hard boiled sweet which she pressed into Lol’s hand.  Not being afraid of such things, Lol popped it into her mouth and sucked on it till the fur came off and her tongue found the sweet underneath.  Then there was Horace.  Horace was bald, and had glasses that didn’t fit.  And fat.  Lots of fat, hidden under a filthy old brown Macintosh.    He just talked crap, about cheese, and peas, and ostriches.  Horace horseshit, they called him.  And then there was Dreamer.  Dreamer entranced Lol straight away.  He was a huge black man, in his fifties, and dressed in shabby old clothes, apart from his scarf, which although faded, was all the colours of the rainbow.  Although a huge bull of a man, he seemed ‘faded’ somehow to Lol in ways she couldn’t explain.  Groucho told her that Dreamer was a poet.  As he said this, Dreamer came up to her,

“You wanna hear a poem”, he said in an amazingly soft voice that didn’t suit him.

Lol didn’t care for poems, and so she just shrugged.  Didn’t matter to him, he recited her a poem anyway,

Her lungs grow full of earth

As in the grave she lies

Her lungs grow full of earth

As in the grave she lies

And as the earth is heaped on top

With a mighty sigh she dies.

They will never know her gravesite

Lost on the mossy heath

As the black clouds gather all around

The worms eat underneath

She was silent for a while.  Didn’t know what to make of that at all. 

“Don’t mind him”, said Groucho “does a heck of a lot of PCP, changes his mind.”

“I like cheese with peas”, interjected Horace, “you ever see Pease, kid?”

Lol nodded,

“I think they’re the best thing ever”, he replied.

Groucho sat down, and motioned Lol to come join them.  Dreary passed round a bottle of some foul tasting stuff, and they all had a drink.  Lol felt happy.  First Money, now friends.  Things were looking up.

Lol spent a lot of time with the homeless guys round the back of Benny’s after that.  Most of the time, it was just her, Groucho and Dreamer.  Dreary couldn’t go anywhere without booze, and Horace was just a pain in the ass with his shouting all the time.  One day Horace had been eating a moldy old sandwich, and he’d suddenly got up, run down the alley and propelled the sandwich into the air, shouting

“Fly sammich, fly”

Before returning in all seriousness to his seat.  Lol had never laughed before.  Not so she could remember.  But this time she laughed till tears came in her eyes.  She thought he’d done it to make her laugh.  But apparently it was some brain illness he had.  Groucho thought it was the government putting something in his booze.  Either way, he could be a pain in the ass.  They would be hanging round the alley, when he would run off to some passerby and shout,

“See my penis”, he would gesticulate, “its growing.  It’s all the cheese I eat”

Then the cops would come.  So they usually just left him with Dreary and wandered about the old town together.   One afternoon the three were suddenly hungry.  Subsisting on mainly a diet they found in the trash cans, life had been bettered with Lol’s arrival.  Lol brought them things, she packed up her breakfasts, at first, not knowing any better, she brought her hot bran in a paper bag which ended up in a soggy mess.  Still, Groucho and Dreamer ate it hungrily.  Then they had found her a plastic box with a little lid, and a spaceman printed on the sides.  She filled it with the food that she didn’t eat, including peas, Horace’s favourite one day just to make him happy.  But today Groucho wanted something better.

“The trick is”, he said to her as Dreamer hummed a beat to himself, “to give them no choice in the matter.  The mark thinks that he’s acting of his own free will, and he feels good.  But you’re the one controlling him, as soon as you meet him, you’re the one in control.  Remember that.”

Lol put the thought in her mind and tried to keep it there.  They came to a fancy restaurant,

“Fancy eating here, Dreamer?” asked Groucho

“Sure man” said Dreamer in his sing song voice, “the poet eats with his people, sat on the floor where they know him best.  I lay my hands on them”

“I think that means yes.  You fancy it, squirt?”

“They never gonna let us in there”, Lol replied.  Even if they would, no way we can afford it.  I only got twenty bucks form my smoke sales today.”

“The scrap’s right”, said Groucho, “you’re altogether too smart looking.”

Lol didn’t like the sound of that one bit.

He looked her up and down. 

“Take your sweater off”, he said to her.  Lol didn’t like that at all, it was November, and she had no coat.  Under her sweater was only an old white t shirt vest. 

“Come on idiot”, shouted Groucho, “you wanna eat or not?”

Lol did so, and she pulled off the sweater.

Dreamer looked at it with interest,

“The little one smells of pain, her heart is blood and bone, so hard and lost and beautiful.”

“Hmm”, replied Groucho turning again to Lol, “now take your shoes and socks off.”

“Huh!” exclaimed Lol, “No fucking way”

“You want to eat or don’t ya?”

“Why do I have to have bare feet to eat?” Lol said, “you gonna eat my shoes?”

“bare feet never hurt any kid”, said Groucho getting impatient, “now you want to eat or not?”

Reluctantly, as it was a cold November day, and the last thing Lol wanted to do was to stand on the sidewalk with her socks and shoes off.  But she kicked off the grey sneakers she wore, then bent down to take her white socks off too.  She balled the socks up and put them in the shoes.  Groucho took them off her, and put them in his pocket.  The sidewalk was freezing to Lol’s feet, and she hoped they would go inside.  But they didn’t. 

“Here”, said Groucho moving to a bit of a dirt at the side of the road,

“Kick about in this for a bit”, he gestured, “you’re far too clean.”

Lol sighed, and padded over to the dirt pile and began to kick her bare feet about in the dirt.  Suddenly, she was startled as Groucho was rubbing dirt on her face too,

“hey!” she shouted.

“That’s better”, smirked Groucho”, now you look like one of us.

And suddenly, despite the dirt and filthy on her face and in her hair, and her cold bare feet on the November sidewalk, she felt better than she ever had done in her young life before.  ‘One of us’.  No matter how old Lol would grow, she never forgot that feeling in that moment on the sidewalk that day.  She would often remember it.

They went into the restaurant.  There were several diners inside, mostly business types, either sitting alone of dining with women that weren’t their wives.  It was a posh affair, with what called furry wallpaper.  She was disappointed that there was no carpet for her cold little feet, it was all posh marble.  All the diners and the maître Dee looked up at them.

“I’m sorry sir”, the maître Dee began, holding up his hand.

“please mister”, said Groucho in his most pathetic sounding voice, “My little girl needs feeding.  My friend and I have managed to scrap up two dollars to pay for it sir.”

Groucho showed him two dollar bills that Lol had given him,

“We were saving the money to buy her some shoes for the winter”, he said, looking down at my dirty feet, “A sweater too.”

“If this money isn’t enough”, added in dreamer, “I’m a poet.  I can rap for you.”

“Or we can wash dishes”, added Groucho hurriedly, “I just want some hot food inside my little girl.  We’ve never been able to manage since her poor mamma…”

Lol let out a small sniff.  Partly it was to hide her laughter form the story he was giving their ‘mark’.  But she wanted to play her part.  How easy it was to manipulate these people.

Sir”, said the maître Dee, “I have a heart.  I would be honored to serve you in my restaurant.  Of course there will be no charge.”

“God bless you”, said Dreamer quietly.

They ate, to preserve the places good name, in the back room that had, thankfully, a carpet which was a godsend for Lol.  And how they ate.  They were treated and served like Kings.  A full five course banquet with doggy bags to take away, and two twenty dollar bills.  Outside, Groucho handed her back her shoes, socks and sweater.  Lol thought about what he’d said… ‘One of us’, and refused the things,

“I’m fine as I am”, she said sullenly.

But Groucho got cross. 

“You won’t be one of us if you’re dead of hypothermia”, he grumbled, “and then whose gonna bury you’re sorry ass.  Not me, that’s for sure.  Besides, nobody’s telling you to wash your face.  Bit of dirt never did a kid any harm.  

They did the restaurant jaunt regularly.  Sometimes with Dreamer, sometimes, when Dreamer was off getting a fix, just the two of them.  Groucho got busy teaching Lol his tricks, and his many schemes, in between rambling about the government.  At one time, it seemed, he’d had a family and a daughter of his own, but of that he would only say “Tinkerbell.  Lost by the sea”  Nothing more, and when Lol asked, he would get rather cross with her.  The people at the home were cross with her all the time now, mainly due to her walking the streets most of the day and her scruffy hobo appearance.  Lol often came back with her shoes around her neck, knotted together with the laces and walking barefoot on the sidewalk, but she was part of a group now, and in her own mind, wouldn’t have cared if they kicked her out.  But all the same, it was nice to curl up in her nice warm bed, especially in winter.  She suddenly thought of poor Groucho, out in the open air.  There had to be a plan.  But he didn’t know of any, or care enough to think of one.  Most of the people in the hostels and boarding rooms knew Groucho, and had grown tired of his conspiracies and grifting ways.

“Give me an inch and I’ll take the whole damned yardstick”, he’d said.

And so Lol thought hard.  She needed him to have a warm night, after all he was her friend and friends cared for each other.  She’d learned that much.  And so, one day when they were out combing the streets, Lol stopped outside the 4
th
street mission hostel for homeless people. 

“Just a minute” she said and wandered inside.

“I ain’t allowed in there”, he shouted after her, “the fbi got to them, least I think it was them, some kind of secret service.  They’re following me, ya know, kid.”

The kid had disappeared inside.  Groucho wondered whether or not to wander off and leave her behind, but he couldn’t.  The kid made him laugh, and she was clever.  Didn’t meet so many clever kids these days, there was something in the damn Nintendo machines that made them dumb.  Not this kid.  This kid knew how to work a con.  And, in some dark recess of his weakened mind, she reminded him of his Tinkerbell.

Tinkerbell.  Lost in the sea. 

Damn that kid, where was she.  At that moment, she came through the door.

“I got myself a place in there for tonight”, she said matter of factly, before chuckling,

“Boo hoo”, she added, “I’m all homeless.  Poor little me”

“Well that’s fantastic for ya”, he grunted, “now you got two places to sleep tonight.  Think of poor me sleeping in a goddam doorway while you’re splitting yourself between the two”

“NO dumbass”, she said smiling, “I go in here nine o clock, leave the snick on the side door and go to bed.  Then you sneak in here, come to the top floor, find my room and creep in.”

“How will I find your room”, he asked

“It’ll be the one with me in it, dumbass” she laughed, “I’ll leave it a little open.  And I’ll save some food.  Don’t go in another room though, don’t wanna be getting into bed with some other homeless guy”

“I ain't getting into bed with you! He growled, “I’ve smelled you up close!”

“Fine”, she said, “sleep on the floor.  I know I’ll be comfortable”

“What will the home say”, he asked, taking her hand as they walked away?

“Who cares”, she replied, “,maybe they’ll think I’ve been murdered?”

“Maybe you will be?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Later that evening, when the night was drawing in, Lol stuck to her plan to find somewhere warm for Groucho, and about the time she normally headed off for home, instead, she turned to go towards the 4
th
street mission.  She told Groucho to wait in the alley, till later and everyone had gone to bed, and she would return.  He didn’t mind, he was used to sitting in the bus stops and watching the city buses coming to and fro.  Some of the drivers stopped and had a smoke with him, so well-known was Groucho, or Tinhat as they called him.  About eleven pm, he heard a noise

“Psst”, came the noise.

Groucho looked round, but nothing.

“Psst”, came the voice, “are you deaf, idiot?”

Then he jumped up.  He’d darned well forgot about the girl.  There she was, wrapped in a blanket in the side alley beckoning to him,