orangetoughguy | log post II

Hey.

[Finally the kid picks up. Damn Larry's called him twice? Thrice now?]

[Thank God. He was sure it was gonna be the machine. The old man sounds a little breathless. There's music in the background. Not too loud, there's some kind of a partition.]

Hey.

[Swallow.]

...You at work?

Yeah but I'm takin' off pretty soon.

[All that noise going on in the background of Larry's call is more than he's used to hearing for the casino.]

Somethin' goin' on there?

Kind of.

[Wow. Really? Old man you cannot call three times in a row and play it off like nothing is going on.]

Office party. A guy named Dewey. He's thirty. They're goin' all out.

[And the way he's talking about it is like there's a funeral or something.]

It's not the sort of party I thought.

[Right. Freddy can tell already though he can tell what's bugging him specifically. Yet. There's the sound of clinking and thumping as the kid moves a couple things, phone cradled on his shoulder.]

What's special about Dewey?

[And his big 3-0 birthday that's still 3 years away for Freddy. Damn.]

His friends threw a big one.

[No. Shit.]

It's a rowdy crowd. They're dancing, drinking and about everything else.

[Dimick. Say it. What are you? Scared to admit you have a problem? It's a big step knowing to walk away.]

They got powder. Lots.

[Freddy quips.] You tryin' to make me wish I was you--

[Oh. That changes everything. There's a moment of silent pause on the kid's end. What does Larry want him to say? What does he want him to do?]

I know you can say no.

[Freddy wouldn't hang up would he? For a second the old man feels like this is a big mistake. What if the kid thinks he's already in on it? If he went home and mentioned it there, there would be hell to pay. Shake it off. Larry, you got this.]

I know. I have.

[He swallows. In one of the lounges he's found a corner to retreat into.]

I've said no three times.

[That he can say in all honesty. Those motherfuckers can't even imagine while everyone's having a gay ol' time it's fixing to give him a splitting headache. It's been how long since he used? Six months?]

And they keep asking why my girl isn't here.

So fuckin' scare the shit out of'em if they ask you again. Say your 'girlfriend' eats bumping sons of bitches for breakfast.

[And that's not even much of a joke. But oh shit is he losing his temper already? Calm down, Newendyke, the old man called you for a reason. Don't lose your cool. Freddy takes a breath.]

How long you gotta be there?

I said my my baby's a busy girl. Her times valuable an' just for me. That's what I tell em when they're sober.

[Apparently the old stick isn't working out right.]

We're slow as shit, I'm on the clock for another hour.

I'll be right there.

[Freddy invites himself without even knowing if he'll be let in. He's not 'the girlfriend' after all and he'll probably be underdressed, but he expects to be let in if Larry wants his help.]

Come in the back. I'll wait for you.

[He wants to say thank you and I love you except there's a voice on the line.

"Is that her? Tell her to get her ass here!"]

Get the fuck out of here. Can't a guy get some peace?

Okay. Through the back.

[Larry can't see it but the kid nods like he's standing right. That other voice though, that voice can kiss his ass. Freddy's about ready to hang up but he adds another couple words of reassurance.]

Just hold on.

[He's relieved that the message came through the line the right way. It isn't an emergency, just...urgent. The old man stands in the doorway facing the back lot. A Chesterfield is burning slowly but surely to the filter.

The party is still going with a bunch of the new shit. Some fucks want to jump around. Sounds like it'd be expected from a group called House of Pain. It sounds like something Freddy would listen to. That adds a hair of comfort.

Hold on, he said. Larry's holding.]

[And here he comes though maybe the sound of Christie Love tearing down the street precedes him. Freddy turns the corner and slows to a stop in the back lot and he plans to park wherever the hell he wants. ...He's done it before so he's no rebel but still. Helmet off, the kid dressed in jeans and a t-shirt makes his way towards a recognizable Chesterfield smoker.]

Who the fuck is Dewey again?

[That's code for "You're all right, right?" Green eyes notice the nose and clean upperlip.]

[Like a knight in shining armor. No, no. All wrong. The old man's not defenseless and the enemy isn't a dragon, it's more like poisonous pixie dust, angel dust...it's got a million names and it's the same damn thing.

Brown eyes watch him approach absolutely stone sober. He hasn't even had any booze. Combined with his suit he looks like the photograph of rigid.]

He's been working here on about two years. [Shrug. "Kind of."]

I don't work with him directly.

[Christie will be safe here. There are cameras.]

[They also call it the serpent in the grass but whatever works for Lawrence Dimick. Seeing him as stone-faced as he is Freddy wonders how long it takes for a man to get from being addicted to being able to not give a damn when it's around. Larry hasn't reached that last step it seems. Not that anyone should expect him to so soon, especially Freddy of all people. He may have used six months ago but what about before then? It's a work in progress.]

So longer than you.

[And maybe because Dewey knows somebody, so fucking off without giving a rat's ass might not be good for the job. Okay Newendyke, you gotta go in, you gotta be Marlon Brando...in your jeans and t-shirt. Not like Lucky hasn't seen him before.]

Anything I wanna know about before we go? [Not because he'll step out if he sees it going on, just so Orange doesn't get surprised.]

[So far it's been a crash course. Months and months of sobriety, accomplishments and then in a snap that's it. It's all a work in progress.]

Longer than me. They're taking advantage of it being a slow night.

[The old man drops his smoke and steps on it. He wants to reach out and touch the man, get a grip on him and the reality of what they got. This man hunted him out and stayed by him even in his drugged up stupor.]

The girls are out and about. Most of em don't want to touch any of the shit.

[He hunted him down back then now he'll stick by his side like a personal bodyguard. With regards to the girls though, Freddy snorts.]

What. You think I got a problem with girls?

[It's not so much an honest question than it is a gesture of humor. Freddy's not mad or stone-faced sour, he can go with the flow. The kid lights his own cigarette then gestures for the old man to lead the way.]

[A personal bodyguard is just what he needs.]

No. [There's a semblance of a smile that pulls up on his face.] They're nosy though. Get ready.

[Larry feels like some of the fog has lifted and he can see the forest for the trees.]

Did you have any plans tonight?

[Plans he put a damper on.]

Nosy I can handle. [He points his cigarette at Larry and continues on.] Well I wanted to try these cream cheese wontons.

[Freddy says like White really did put a damper on those possibly unpalatable plans.] At least the music's good.

[Larry called it, go figure.]

Those? We got plenty of those. Think there are some wings. Probably the spicy ones.

[Hell, if Freddy asked for lobster and steak he'd have it in seconds flat.]

I figured you'd like it.

[He steps aside as if to say come on in.]

Most of the party is upstairs. As you can see [Larry steps from one side to the other to show the place is indeed in a lull, it's the week after a holiday there's gotta be some dips] we got time.

Really? Cause I'm fuckin' hungry too.

[Maybe snacking like a scrappy stray dog will help the agitated bear keep his mind off the bad honey. Looking around down here Freddy also wonders why no one is trying to bother getting into the party when it's right there. Oh, could be big beefy security types like the man right next to him. Freddy knows he wouldn't have a chance in hell of breezing his way into something like that, unless he was Mr. Orange. Almost he cracks a joke about supermodels doing lines in the ladies room then he decides against it.]

Can I get a drink too?

Good. [A paw pats his shoulder a few times. One. Two. And then it drops.] This way.

[Larry waves to a lanky man at the front door. He waves back enthusiastically then appears to be more than happy to keep on staring off.]

That's Gump. Think is name is Forrest. He's not the party type either. Hung up on some girl named Jenny.

[Up the stairs they go. The music is louder.]

Food first, then drink?

[Yep. He is fixating on meeting the kid's needs.]

[Touching feels good despite the tension he felt over the phone. Freddy gives Gump a friendly upnod.]

I bet he still has her number.

[And up they go where the music gets louder and the smell is...well. It's interesting. Is there such a thing as an oversaturation of perfume, cologne, alcohol, and narcotics? Of course there is, it's not the LAPD's fault Freddy's never had the chance to raid a Brenthood party.]

Which one do you wanna get me first?

[DON'T STOP CALLIN]

[I DON'T WANNA THINK ANYMORE]

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