orangetoughguy | log post II

[And he can keep those secrets too. Larry knows treasure when he sees it. Those can't be pawned. He feels rich.]

I'd love to hear you play me a song.

[Even one of Freddy's. The loud, no way of sleeping through sorta song.]

So you gotta take it up.

[To make it perfectly clear.]

[He's young enough to feel utterly flattered but old enough to recognize a little trickery however harmless. Larry wants to get him a real guitar, a real fucking bass guitar. It's sweet, a true treasure, and Freddy can't say no.]

Okay. [Orange smiles before leaning in again to meet near nose to nose, because he has an important point to reiterate.] But I'm warnin' you again, I'm loud and I'm not that good.

[To make it perfectly clear. But he knows Larry enough to realize that probably doesn't matter to him.]

[How much of a trick can it be if he's aware of it?]

Oh, I know.

[About the loud. As far as good, only time will tell whether or not it's Newendyke modesty or the gospel. What's a racket verses Freddy's happiness?]

A guy's gotta practice.

At least I'll always have an audience on hand.

[Freddy quips only because he wouldn't seriously make Larry listen to every single one of his jams, but one here and then would be nice. Real nice.]

And a fan club too, how bout that? Everyone gets hard one way or the other at a good concert.

[One thing he'll take seriously is that this means something.]

Don't get too ahead of yourself. You said good concert.

[He gives the old man a nudge then a grin.]

But the fan club's alright. I'll be Geddy Lee and you can be Neil Peart. [However if Rush is too progressive for Larry's mind...] Or I can be Tom Hamilton and you can be Joey Kramer.

So I gotta get drums then, huh?

[As if he's gotta ask. The guitar isn't here yet, but that's how it has to be. He noses the kid to try and hide his guilty planning face. Oh hey it brings them closer together.

This is fucking great.]

What you wanna call this outfit?

Sure, I mean if you wanna. I can always hold auditions or somethin' if you're too shy to join the band.

[Freddy quips while getting nosed. For a big old hardened criminal Lawrence Dimick certainly enjoys holding, touching, and squeezing. The kid don't mind (he loves it).]

How about Two Guys, Too Much Time. Then it's Two Too for short, or TouTou with dots on the last u or on the o's like in Blue Oyster Cult. Then everyone'll think we're really heavy metal and we have no rules.

Hey. Hey. Who said anythin' about being shy? It was a question.

[Larry pulls back with feigned seriousness. Though one can bet money he'll be back to making himself comfortable. The old man sure does like his physical contact especially when its with his man.]

And it sounds too much like tutu. That'd give the wrong ideas too. Or it could be Good Fellas. Though I think we're gettin' ahead of ourselves using good.

Okay. Some Fellas. Dots over the m.

[This is called compromise.]

[The old man rolls onto his back and writes it in the air.]

Some. Fellas.

[Dot. Dot.]

I like it.

[Elbows the kid.]

Good. [Oof. This does not deter Freddy's laughter.] When we get an interview with Rolling Stone we're gonna tell'em the dots were my idea.

Sure they are. So was tutu.

[If we're gonna go down that road.]

We gotta get em first. Then practice. Rolling Stone the week after that. From there... I dunno. What to bands do after that?

[Since it looks like Freddy is the head of this operation.]

[Arms stretching back then bending behind his head to rest easy.]

They tour.

[Where would Larry want to go, he wonders.]

Touring.

[His arms don't go above his head but he has the same dreamy expression.]

How about we do the East coast first, then we'll head West. After that head down South.

[Mexico. Naturally.]

You wanna go to Europe or somethin'?

Okay but if we go east first it has to be in the spring or summer. [Because this kid can't handle east coast or midwest cold weather. Winter in California or Mexico on the other hand is super ideal. Super dreamy too.] I don't know. You ever been there? Like Amsterdam or something.

[He's not just saying that because Amsterdam seems like the place for their type to go or anything...but Larry can't possibly say no to that right?]

To tell you the truth I haven't been over there yet. My passport guy isn't so damn good. I've been to Canada. I was gonna hop a flight out to Spain to see what the fuck it was like and had a hell of a close call.

[Now he feels the need to get a smoke. Larry rolls over to reach for the nightstand.]

Marlboro?

[Oh. Well that puts a damper on their global tour. Freddy slips a hand out from under his head to gesture for the cigarette.]

Light me up.

[A rock and roll fantasy is still just that, something fun to think about, where being a criminal and a cop means nothing. A non-issue. Freddy thinks about shielding their deeper partnership from the paparazzi then getting so famous maybe they can openly say who gives a fuck and blow each other on stage. That's more entertaining than dodging Interpol. Don't dwell on it, think of something more dreamy, Newendyke.]

Know any sweet places where rock stars stay in Mexico?

[Cigarette between his fingers. And a cigarette between Larry's fingers. Click flick of a lighter to light each. Maybe they'd play a few numbers that get the lighter lift. Only they'd know who it's really about.]

Not specifically but I can tell you there are some nice out of the way spots.

[He sucks in a deep drag along with the memories.]

[Freddy takes a shallow pull before blowing rings upward to the ceiling.]

Which one's your favorite?

[He's gonna be relentless in talking about you now, old man.]

[This is because the old man leaned on him to get the whole story of the guitar.]

Las Ventanas al Paraiso in Los Cabos. I'm not 100% on what it all means but it's got paradise in it. They know what they're talkin' about. It's a big property, huge right on the beach. They got golf, pools, salons...

[And they could go together.]

[Puff puff. He already said Spanish really isn't his forte so Freddy shrugs over the meaning, taking Larry's word for it. But damn does it sound nice...and so very Lawrence Dimick. Only the best for him huh?]

So that's where you tan.

[It could be about the guitar. It could be about wanting to know more of Mr. White. It could be both.] I'd check it out.

Down there the water is so fucking blue. Takes your breath away.

[Like a few things. A plume of smoke floats up to mingle in the air with Freddy's above em.]

I tan where there's sun.

[Man made or otherwise.]

You won't regret it. Not at all. Any more relaxed at a place like that you'd be sleeping.

I've never been to a beach like that.

[All the more reason for this kid to go huh? Over the sun comment though Freddy can't help but laugh. Yeah he's seen the old man where if someone looked at juuuuust the right angle they'd stumble upon him naked. A tanning bed on the other hand, that doesn't even occur to Freddy Newendyke.]

Are you on a first name basis with the owner or something? You tan together?

Sounds like you're over due.

[He wets his lips before another drag. They got those on Catalina, but Mexico is where it's at. They should go there first. Though it would ruin the rest of the resorts for life. Ah well.]

One of the managers had a brother who fell into deep, deep horse shit. Down in Mexico they have drug lords and it's all about turf and profit. Well, this brother rolled in the wrong neighborhood and ran into the wrong fucking car. I was passing through, got finished with a job. It was clear he was going to get left in the desert to die. It didn't seem fucking fair.

[Larry leans to tap ash before laying back once more.]

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