orangetoughguy | log post II

You see what I see, don't you?

[The old bear steps to the window to push open the curtains and show him.]

It's right outside.

[Within their reach this time. Fuck man, they can see it!]

That's...that's fuckin' impossible.

[Out of bed now, the kid makes way to the windows where he's got a little alien succulent garden growing. Fuck. It can't be but there it is. The unmistakable downtown LA skyline.]

It's not possible. [Freddy looks at Larry, brows knitting together.] What do we do?

I don't know how it's happening but it is. It fucking is.

[Is he happy? Sad? Shouldn't he be turning on the lights? The old man stares at the city lights and how it beams against the outline of Freddy's body.]

We can go home.

[And kiss all of this goodbye.]

Home....

[But they're standing in home right now. Oh shit this is fucking real. Yesterday people were dodging dinosaurs and before that motherfucking aliens. How do they know this is another LA? How do they know it's not? Fuck.]

Are you going? [Right now at this moment, the kid puts his own fate in the old man's hands. He'll follow him. Is that unfair of Freddy? Probably.]

[Home is what they made together. Oh fuck that belongs on some card or bumper sticker. That doesn't make it untrue though.]

Not without you.

[From the get go that is where he is coming from.]

I think [Larry wets his lips] we should take it. Who knows when we'll get another chance?

[Last time they didn't take it. Did anyone get out at all? No, not that they knew of.]

[What about their stuff? What about the diamonds? What about Sam? What about their friends? What about being a cop and a crook? Freddy wonders how he can possibly say goodbye to everyone. Using the network seems a little trite but it's the only way he knows how. Maybe he's jumping too far ahead. Is Larry going to ask him to head for the border? Fuck.]

And leave everything?

[He gestures to the rest of his room, this house, the life they've made here. He's got two guitars, one mounted and one in a stand. But for fuck's sake his family might be out there too.]

We can take luggage.

[Because that's what people do on trips. This is more than that, Dimick. Don't don't play it one fucking bit. This is a move, this is the fucking next step to whatever is gonna be out there for them.]

I'm guessing we're only gonna be here a day like with the other places.

[The future apparently and the past. Must have come out to be in the middle, their time.]

What are you thinking?

[Because he wants to know. LA then Mexico?]

[Luggage he says. Freddy makes a face like that's such an ill-timed joke but he is the last person to call anyone out on bad humor and bad moments. That they'll be here probably for just a day, he doesn't doubt it. Just makes shit even harder to confront.]

I'm thinkin'...I'm fuckin' scared man.

[Will Larry hold him? Not now, Newendyke, you have to get a move on.] Let's go.

[Larry's thinking that they should have gone to a fucking incredible restaurant last night rather than another bucket of chicken, they should have taken a last long look at all of this bullshit and fucked like animals soaking all that they have one last time because it ain't gonna be the same.]

I know, tough guy.

[Because he is too. None of that right now, old man. Come on.]

I'll get garbage bags.

[That's it then. They're going.]

Fuck the garbage bags.

[What'll they do if they have to stop somewhere and split up? Or ditch the stuff? Or worse yet what if someone pulls them over? No, Freddy won't stand to let anyone else touch their belongings, even if it means leaving everything here.]

Let's take what we need and lock the place up. [How can Freddy possibly choose only a few things out of the entire home they've built up?]

[All of this here will be a shrine, kinda like some mummy's tomb.]

Okay.

[That means they'll get dressed, get weapons. Before turning away completely Larry firmly grips Freddy's upper arm and pulls him in to give him a kiss for...luck, courage and a reminder that together everything can be okay.

They're gonna get out of this place and face the real world head-on.]

[That's a morbid but perfect way to put it. Their own little shrine. But they're not going to be dead (if only Freddy knew).]

I'll get--

[Sam. The old man takes the words right out of his mouth with that kiss. The kid drags his hands all over him without hesitation, holding, touching, squeezing. Kissing firmly. Fucking like crazy last night would have been a great idea.]

[Does this mean that if they die they will haunt this place? (If only Larry knew.)

Paws rove everywhere, all over him. Arms, back, hair, ass, body to body like they can never be torn apart by fucking anything, they're that fucking solid. It could be the way that their mouths are mashing together leaving him with not all that much oxygen but the simple logic that there's not enough time hurts.]

See you downstairs.

[He's suddenly so wrapped up in Lawrence Dimick that Freddy forgets they're supposed to be gearing up. Finally tearing away from him--only by the mouth--the kid nods. It's hesitant but fueled by doing this together.]

Okay, Larry.

[Maybe that wasn't helpful for the cause in the long run, but opportunities shouldn't be missed. Heading into his room, the old man turns on the lights. Brown eyes go over the flowers in their vases. A few are wilting, in need of more water or general pruning. His bed is unmade. The suit for what would have been the next day for work is hanging out, ready to go. At least he won't pend too much time figuring out which one he'll be wearing out of here.

Don't hang your head, old man. Change.]

Fuck.

[Larry's not the only one riding that same wavelength. The kid's putting his suit on, not quite the same as the day they arrived but it looks pretty close. For one, this set isn't full of bullets and bloodstains. He looks like he just stepped out of that damn diner. Looking around his room now he expects Sandy Rogers to start playing on the stereo but nothing comes on. It's quiet. Freddy pockets the flattest of his Marvel Transformers before moving downstairs to let the toucan out.]

[The old man comes out of his room. Two Guns, cigarettes, a lighter, two new clips, a comb and a handkerchief: it's enough. Downstairs he goes to the diamonds in their new, toucan free hiding place.]

We got any toast or anything?

[To eat. On the road. Oh fuck, man this is happening. Why is it that all of those times he's thought about it he didn't feel like fucking shit?]

No, but I got this?

[Donuts. A box of them. Is that stupid or poignant? Freddy offers the open box to Larry either way. They got glazed, sprinkled, crumbed, the usual. Meanwhile the toucan's stretching those blue feet and big black wings before flying over to stand near the pair.] You look good.

[Freddy can't help but say it when he gets a real good long look at Lawrence Dimick. Mr. White. He didn't get to say it the first time around those many many months ago.]

[It's not stupid but Larry finds himself laughing anyway. He' takes out a crumbed donut. Sam looks confused as much as a bird can look and express. That makes three of them.

Taking a gander at Freddy, at what he's wearing...what they both are wearing it's too coincidental. Good is a start to describe how he looks to the old man.]

You look like a million bucks, baby.

[He can say that here. And he fucking will.]

Yeah, thanks.

[He doesn't feel like a million bucks but no one can help that. Hell maybe he's not supposed to feel like a million bucks anyway. They're going back home but they're leaving a home to get back to that home. It's hard. Freddy bites into a chocolate glazed donut. At least it's fresh and so good. He puts the box down to take their time finishing these. They're owed that luxury aren't they?]

Milk?

[...there is still some left right? He goes to the fridge. Ah. Yep. Enough here for a glass. Larry pours himself some coffee but holds up the mug in case if the kid wants it. All of this is natural, automatic now because that's what people do when they live together. Location will be the first big change. What else will follow?]

It doesn't feel real right now.

It sure doesn't.

[He's taking that glass of milk and wolfing it down with another bite of donut like he's twelve years old. The toucan wandering on the counter and staring at both of them makes it a little more surreal. Freddy can't decide if it's the space inside that feels unreal or the space outside anymore.]

Shit Larry I don't know if I can do it.

[Oh fuck if there was a time for tears it's right now. He was going to tell the old man right then and there he's a cop, before they wound up here. If time's passed they're probably missing persons. If not...then the cops, they'll be looking for them.]

[The old man takes a seat. A donut dunked in hot coffee is an unbeatable combination. Still things are strange.]

You can. [Larry looks up from his mug and for a moment he thinks of another drink. Instead he sets it down] I know that you can. If it means picking up where we started, that's what it means. We're doing this, alright? We're doing this right.

[Together.]

I fucked up so fuckin' bad, man.

[Sorry Lawrence Dimick, this kid is weeping.] I fuckin' killed them.

[The woman in the car, Officer Nash.]

[As a crook? Yes. As a cop though? How in the hell was he supposed to control that many elements? How? Larry pulls his chair closer. Eye contact is what he is striving for.

Don't turn away, Freddy because he's gonna try and follow you, try and go to the place where you are emotionally.]

You didn't make Blonde crack. You didn't make the cops come late. [They came late right?] Everything else after was in response.

[The chair creaks as he leans closer to put his hand on Freddy's knee. As clear as yesterday he can hear the gunshots, see the faces. Joe, Eddie, Blonde, Brown, Blue, the young black girl...]

Shit happened, okay?

log post II

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