orangetoughguy | log post II

[Right on time. He wasn't sure how the kid wanted his steak. Larry upnods from his position on the third base line. The kid looks just as good to him as he had. Except then he was an extra pair of eyes trying sniff out anything suspicious about the new guy. That's why he was made to come along. That and make sure that Eddie crossed his Ts and dottied his Is as a courtesy to Joe. They hadn't done business in years.

Business. That's what it all was a year ago.]

You got my message.

[That was just a location and a time.]

Figured we'd have a cookout. Live it up a little, you know. It was a year ago today.

[...did Freddy forget?]

Sure did.

[He plucks the cigarette from his ear to light it on the barbeque. That takes some finesse to not catch his floppy hair on fire.]

You were counting? [So was I. He didn't forget.]

[Brown eyes are drawn to him even now watching the cherry glow at the end of his Marlboro.]

It flew by.

[Not all at once but it sure did. It's been one bumpy, crazy, fucked up and wonderful year.]

You want it medium? Rare?

[Flip one steak then the other.]

I guess it did. [Freddy breathes smoke then nods to the slabs of meat.] Medium-rare.

[A little blood never hurt anyone, right? He searches for a place to sit and maybe a beer to crack open.] How'd you get the place to clear out?

You got it.

[A little blood. They've never had only a little when it ran. That's them. Somehow shit ends up to be over the top. Freddy can enjoy one of the folding chairs. Simple and useful was what the old man was shooting for.]

Persuasion. Money talks, don't you know. They had a lot of talking to do about ice cream and Pokey something or others.

[The steaks sizzle. Freddy's gets turned over one more time. The old man inspects one last time before plating. Voila! Steak ala Larry. That much he knows how to pull off. And maybe he might have cheated and read a few things here and there. Nothing fancy. No, he won't cut the kid's meat for him. No matter how he feels about him.]

There you go.

[The cooler is filled with beer, no Pabst shit. He was tempted to through one in there though.]

You're pretty good at that.

[The kid admits with regards to persuasion. Never underestimate Lawrence Dimick's ability to get his way, and Freddy can't complain because his way benefits him too. Sitting out here on a baseball field, smoke, booze, and beef on the side, it feels so fucking good. Fucking unreal, who knew they'd find themselves like this in a year.]

Thanks.

[He sits up and pushes his Corona aside to cut the meat himself thanks. No need for help. Also note the lack of Dodgers gear.] What's with the cap.

You are too, you know.

[Maybe not with money, that's what you call talent though. Freddy's got logic and the ability to be pulling on strings of emotion.

The old man doesn't know a thing about that.]

A year ago I won a hefty sum thanks to them.

[He points to the cap on his head.]

Remember?

Yeah I remember. You made a killing. [Freddy laughs a little around a bite of steak.] I knew you were a gamblin' man back then too, but not for the money. For the love of your team.

[He waves his cigarette at the Brewers cap. Larry looks a little younger just by wearing it, or maybe less like he could break you in two.]

What you call loyalty and pride.

[To a baseball team though say now. He stuck his neck out for this man here. That was a gamble. A win and a loss.]

You were a real baseball fan and listened. Hell of a guy, doing favors for friends too. Guarding the stash.

[His own steak is done now. Larry brings it around to sit beside the kid and dig in.]

Yeah, I like the game, but the Dodgers are my team and you know it.

[Ain't no way to change that but it's also what makes things a little more exciting ain't it? A Brewers fan and a Dodgers fan, they can be friends too, friends and a whole lot more. When Larry refers to the commode story though Freddy's not sure if he should laugh and play along or feel a little guilty. He knows it was all made up right? Read and practiced off a script.]

I practiced that story for days you know. [The kid admits a little sheepishly.]

You won't let me forget it.

[Maybe he'll change. But that kid is stubborn. And what does he have to change his ways for anyway? That's what the old man loves about him. Yeah, down right loves. Lawrence Dimick loves a Dodger fan who is a cop. Is he crazy?]

How many days?

[Mmm first bite of the meat. Freddy's got time to think it over, sheepish or not. Larry elbows him.]

[He's almost ready to add because the Dodgers can lick the floor with the Brewers but decides against it, especially when Larry asks how many days. He takes a sip of his beer.]

Three? Maybe four? I was doing it off duty. I didn't get to do it on the clock you know.

That's low.

[A sip of beer. Mm. It's still cold from the cooler and it hits the spot on a summer night like this.]

Y'can tell that you put a lot into it. Came out natural.

[He won't say that he believed it. Freddy must already know. After all, he cast his vote with the kid then with and without his growing affections. Watching him talk, watching those caramel apple eyes move.]

Well it ain't no glamorous job. [Freddy shrugs with another smile. Lacking in glamor but not in spirit, it doesn't mean the kid doesn't complain about the way the department runs sometimes.]

Yeah, thanks. I had to put my own spin on it, make it mine you know? Make it come outta someone I believe existed, so you'd believe it too. But you know the honest truth? [He taps ash aside.] I think you're the only one who really believed in me.

[Just because he was in on the heist doesn't mean for a second the greenhorn was a part of the gang. He could see it back then, how it sort of splintered between Joe, White, and Blue, the old guard, and then there was Eddie, Blonde, and Pink, with Brown and Orange kind of floundering at the bottom.]

You wouldn't have been in on if it only I believed you.

[Even with the bull he had on Joe at the time. What a time it was. So much fucking changed in a flash.]

I gave my say though.

[Larry shrugs his big shoulders and resumes cleaning away that steak.]

Something about your delivery. It was kinda like we knew you already.

[Which wasn't right because they were getting to know Mr. Orange. Looking back the old man's seeing that there is a difference. Orange is the crook, the one who doesn't give much of a fuck. More daring. He's very similar to Freddy. Kinda like a good twin and a bad twin.]

I guess not, but you carried a lot of weight.

[Who else would dare take Joe's little black book?

Wait what. We? He wonders if Larry means only himself because out of everyone he got to know Larry was the one who made him feel right where he was. Suppose that's how he got everyone killed, including the old man's old friend. Shit stop thinking about it now, Newendyke. He stuffs another couple bites of steak in his mouth. What a weird anniversary, so to speak, but the kid never went into this thinking happy endings were on the horizon.]

I wanted to be that cool guy you know, when I was a kid. I picked up the way to walk, the way to talk, and it was fun for a little while but it takes shutting up the little guy. It takes bein' a bully and stuffing the little guy in a locker. It ain't worth it.

[Having a bad twin, he means. If only it was easy to be himself, which Freddy thinks he totally is until the G-word comes up.]

[Carried. When he was friends with Joe Cabot a heavy weight on the West Coast for all kinds of shit. Being who he was, doing what he did, in hindsight they all could have stood to be more cautious. What then? Larry knows he wouldn't be sitting here on a night in August sharing a meal with a man he shares a home and a bed with. Joe knew a hell of a lot about Mr. White, more than most sure, but he didn't know that.]

You wanted to be a cool guy.

[Larry leans back to take a look at him. It takes balls to be how he is. Hell, that goes for the two of em.

Plate down he takes out a Chesterfield.]

What would your younger self think if he could lay eyes on you now?

[Freddy has to think about that question. What would that kid stuck in Fresno reading comic books until the next time Rush comes into town say? Definitely not "You're so fucking cool man." He has to laugh a little.]

He'd wonder what the fuck happened, how come I'm not working on iron suits and spaceships yet. You?

[Laughter echoes more because of them out in the open. It is a funny thing to think about though. Larry takes a puff to think it over now too.]

Probably wouldn't believe that I was him. Old. Tired looking.

[Don't ruin your own funny question old man.]

Probably start eating more greens.

Old, well.

[The kid makes a couple shrugging motions like that sort of thing can't be helped when you're forty-three years old and that's a dinosaur to a kid anyway. But tired looking? He shakes his head.]

But tired? Bullshit.

[Forty three is old. Ancient for a child.]

Don't think so?

[Elbow for you kid.]

Well that much is good. Don't want to look beat this side of a baseball game. Or catch at least.

[That's another reason for the location.]

[Oof. He nods his head laughing.] Yeah I don't think so.

[Another sip then Freddy tilts his head.] You wanna play?

Sure I do. I brought the gear.

[And he's in a baseball cap with jeans. Check it out now, Freddy the old man bought himself a decent pair of kicks.]

We got the place to ourselves too. If there's a homeless guy, I got some change.

[That's a joke, Freddy.]

[He's thinking about, not because he'd ever be adverse to playing a game with Larry but because he's wondering what the real game is. Even simple old school guys like Lawrence Dimick can be creative.]

Are there cameras? I wouldn't want to get your loss on film. [That's a joke, Larry.]

Nope. Not this time.

[Though he is looking at a camcorder, Mr. Orange. Not that he'd let you know until a very vital moment. Larry is up off of the chair. His Chesterfield streams smoke behind him as he moves the barbecue. The coals are cooling down. They need their third baseline.]

Want to wager? Whoever wins get's somethin'?

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