Chapter 14

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Derrin said, “If we could only rent out the cottage ourselves. It would give us the whole property. We need that.” Derrin sucked on the stem of his corn cob pipe. The smoke from the American Indian, tobacco-free, crushed leaves smelled like ordinary, garden variety burning leaves to Brad who coughed, turned his head and moved his chair a few feet away from the table.

Cheryl said, “They’ve been talking about moving for awhile. Frank said they would be moving out within a few months.”

“That should be easy,” Brad said. “Just ask them when they’re moving out.”

Derrin said, “I wouldn’t go near them. They’re into some pretty heavy duty stuff over there.”

Brad said. “I’ve talked to Frank several times We get along fine.”

Frank was the leader of a small group of drug dealers. He lived in the converted servant quarters with his girl friend and younger brother, Robert. The building stood about twenty feet from the main house, in the middle of the garden.

Cheryl started to say something but Derrin interrupted her. He said again, “I wouldn’t go near the place.”

Brad got up, cat-like. His lithe, 180 pound body slid out of the chair and he moved confidently through the front door towards the stairs that led to the cottage door. He climbed the few stairs slowly and rapped firmly on the wooden door. A tall, blond man who was bigger than Brad but flabby and out of shape, answered the door. Brad recognized him as Frank’s younger brother, Robert whom he had never talked with. He saw Frank sitting at a table, unloading a pistol. From twenty feet, in dim light, Brad could see that it was a .38 caliber police revolver. Another man, whom Brad had never seen, was sitting across from Frank. Two men at the table grinned at Brad. The man standing at the door on the landing was two steps higher than Brad and his head towered two feet above Brad’s.

Brad looked past him and said, “Hi Frank. How’s it going?”

There was no answer.

He persisted, in a cheerful voice, “Cheryl said you told her you were moving out in a couple of months. Derrin wants to rent this place to expand the commune. He’s wondering when you’re moving out.”

The tall, blond man looked over Brad’s head and yelled at the top of his voice, “Don’t you have any manners? Can’t you give people any privacy?” His eyes bulged and stared over Brad’s head at the magnolia tree. Brad looked past him, at Frank and the other man for direction. The two men smiled at each other and Frank closed the cylinder of the .38 with a snap. He put the gun on the table with a loud thump.

Brad said, still looking at Frank, “I’m just asking a question. Cheryl said you were moving out in a couple of months. It’s got nothing to do with privacy. We are neighbors aren’t we?” Brad wasn’t used to backing down but he had fallen under the combined weight of several football linemen many times and he knew how to fall in order to minimize the possibility of injury to himself.

“It’s none of your goddammed business,” the tall, blond man screamed. Again, he looked over Brad’s head, not meeting his eyes.

“Fine. I was just asking a question.” He threw his hands up, as if he was about to go down with the football. Frank smiled, as if to say that his little brother was always like that and therefore, Brad shouldn’t be scared. Brad reasoned that he had no choice but to back down. The man had never met his eyes anyway and Brad had never talked to him before. He had only seen him a few times walking through the yard. Brad consoled himself with the thought that he probably would have knocked him on his ass on the football field. As he walked down the stairs, he heard the low rumbling of laughter coming from the other side of the closed door. When he went back into the living room they all looked at him with big, sympathetic eyes. He had nothing to say. Derrin was right. Brad fumed with humiliation, shame and anger, and disappeared into his room. All day long, he replayed the two-minute encounter, imagining different, face-saving scenarios.

The next day, Brad was stunned when the big blond guy walked into the living room wearing a suit. Brad was sitting on the couch playing his guitar and Robert didn’t even look him. He just asked if Cheryl was ready. Robert’s demeanor was humble but the smirk that peeked through his mask politeness announced that he had taken control of their turf. Brad shrugged his shoulders. He felt angry and humiliated again but he had no rational basis for challenging Robert.

Cheryl appeared almost immediately and she was dressed in a way that Brad had never seen her dressed before. She was wearing a dark blue velvet, floor length dress with a dark blue trim and turquoise earrings. Brad was consoled by Robert’s suit which was gangster-gray and looked as if it had been tailored by one of Sam Giancana’s tailors.

Cheryl said, “Hi Robert. I’m glad you could make it.” Brad thought her voice was too cheerful and that she was trying to make him jealous. Robert kissed her on the cheek. They ignored Brad who was sitting on the couch, playing his guitar. Without saying goodbye, they disappeared through the open door and walked towards a 1962 Rolls Royce that was waiting for them in front of the gate. He had borrowed it from one of his brother’s customers. Robert held the door for her as she got into the front seat.

Cheryl asked, “Where is the party?”

“It’s in Tiburon.”

They drove in silence for awhile. He said, “Brad is a very rude dude.”

“He isn’t rude.” She paused, “I was the one who told him to ask you when you’re moving.”

“I thought I told you.”

“Well, you were kind of vague.”

Robert stared into the twilight sky. It was low tide and they watched the play of light and shadow in the mud of the Richardson estuary of highway 101 on their left. His two hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He said, “He looks like a quarterback looking to get sacked.”

“Leave him alone. He was just trying to find out what was going on.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

She allowed a slight touch of irritation to color her voice, “I told you, I wasn’t sure. I thought it would be a good way for him to meet you.”

Robert was silent. He stared into hundreds of red tail lights, thinking how much he hated quarterbacks.

Cheryl said, “So you’re leaving. At the end of the month, like you said?” Her voice quavered. He hadn’t been sure the last time they talked.

He was silent for awhile as they headed down the long stretch of highway towards the East Blythedale, Tiburon exit. He pulled out a marijuana cigarette and put it in his mouth. “Yeah. At the end of the month.” He lit it and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs. He passed it to Cheryl. She put it in her mouth and drew out a large volume of smoke which she pretended to inhale. He pretended not to notice that she hadn’t really inhaled. He said, in a strained, flat voice, “What about the other guy? Derrin?”

“He’s a very nice guy. He’s an idealist. He really wants the commune to work. He’s the leader. He’s the one that wants to rent the cottage out. Not Brad.”

“Where does the money for the place come from?”

“Different places.”

“Jobs?”

“Jasmine’s father pays her rent. She’s a freshman at the college of Marin. Anne’s ex pays for hers.”

“Anne. That’s the one who just moved in? With the daughter?”

“She gets alimony from her ex husband.”

“Poor bastard.”

“How do Brad and Derrin handle all that …all of those women?”

She was silent. They stared into the darkness. His hands were big. He was 27 but his cheeks had a jowly, middle age hang to them. His suit looked out of place in 1968, she thought. He looked like a caricature of a nineteen forties gangster.

He said, “She’s a real looker.”

“Anne? I’ll tell her you think so.”

He grinned into the darkness. They turned off highway 101 at the East Blythedale, Tiburon exit. They crossed over the overpass, onto Tiburon boulevard and the lights of the San Francisco skyline came into view. She was silent. “This is going to be interesting,” she thought. “Criminals always have interesting friends.” The white Rolls Royce turned towards the marina, pulled into a long driveway and stopped in front of a very large ranch style house. A black man wearing a white uniform and white gloves parked the car. They entered the foyer. There were men in tuxedos and women in formal wear alongside of people wearing colorful beads and clothing. The smell of marijuana was in the air; people were smoking it openly. They saw Frank in the corner of the living room, talking with a group of people. After a few introductions, Robert led her out onto a patio with a view of San Francisco.

Cheryl asked him, “So what do you want out of life?”

He said, “The question’s not too original.”

“No.”

“I want to get rich. Like everyone else.”

“Like everyone else?”

“Like everyone else, except I won’t stop at anything. I’m like my old man that way, I guess.”

“What was he like?”

“Well, he’s not dead yet. He’s still kicking. He sold everything. Encyclopedias, furniture. Finally ended up selling cars; painting old taxi cabs and selling them to widows and orphans. They set back odometers and bragged about it all the time. Not that I saw much of him though.”

She wanted to tell him that she never knew her father. He seemed enormous next to her. She shivered slightly in the evening air. She figured that she was just another piece of ass to him. She asked, “Are you like him?”

“Are you kidding! I’m more honest than he is. I can make more money selling marijuana, straight up, honestly, in a year, than he could make selling cars and resetting odometers, in five years.”

“Why not try an honest business?”

“One thing I learned from him was that business is just a front for stealing money. Try getting your car fixed. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. They put bad brakes in your car and tell you that you need brakes. Try getting a plumber. The building trades are the worst. They just come in, size you up and charge whatever they think you’ll pay. It’s not for me. I want an honest way to steal money. Marijuana is going to be the next big thing. Now that Nixon is cracking down on it, the price is going to go through the roof.”

“How rich do you need to be?”

“I figure that I need somewhere around two million dollars. Maybe three. I want a big home in Piedmont. I already got it picked out. They want $150,000 for it. It’s three stories, in upper Piedmont, on Seaview Drive. It’s on a half acre lot. There’s a vacation home on the north shore of Lake Tahoe I’d like to get too, but it isn’t for sale yet. I know the guy who owns it. He paid 300 grand for it. It’s got a boat launch and a huge house near the road with two smaller houses on a path that leads to the lake. It’s on an acre of prime, lake-front land. And I figure I need about a hundred grand a year to live on. It works out to a little more than 2 million at six percent a year. I can make that much by the time I’m 40. So I can’t relax until I’m 40.” He stopped talking suddenly and looked at her sideways. “You ask a lot of questions.”

She gambled again with a confident, perky, “Maybe.”

He looked down at her sideways, “I like you. I suppose you know you are a very beautiful woman. Don’t you?”

He found an empty bedroom upstairs and they made love in an unmade bed to the sounds of laughter and conversation that drifted through the open windows from the party below. She thought that Robert wasn’t stupid, even if he wasn’t a genius. And she was curious.

She asked, afterwards, “What makes you tick? I mean what else do you like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hobbies. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I like dinosaurs.”

She laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ve studied them since I was a kid.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s fascinating. Did you know that they were wiped out just because a big meteorite struck the earth about 60 million years ago?”

“No. I don’t understand. Wiped out?”

“Well, there was a kind of nuclear winter.”

“Nuclear winter?”

“That’s what they call it. A huge meteorite hit the earth. It was about two miles wide. Scientists think there was so much smoke in the sky, from huge forest fires, that it blotted out the sun and caused the temperature of the earth to drop. For about two years. It dropped so low that the dinosaurs couldn’t survive because they were cold blooded animals like lizards today. Our ancestors were tiny warm blooded animals that hung around in trees. They survived because they could generate their own heat.”

She didn’t know what to say. He continued. “They’ve discovered a dinosaur fossil that was about the size of a human being that had a brain about the size of our brain they think it was probably very intelligent. About 60 million years ago. So if the dinosaurs had survived, they might have discovered science 60 million years ago. But one meteorite changed everything.”

“Are you making all this up?”

“No. Of course not. I mean it’s just a theory, but I’m not making it up.

“That’s beautiful.”

“It’s why I love to study them. I’m interested in archeology too. It’s really fascinating. I can’t believe that most people don’t know where they came from or even anything at all about the earth and the animals and plants.”

Cheryl said, “I guess I have to plead ignorance too. I mean I wasn’t raised to be religious or anything like that. I believe in evolution. But I’ve never studied archeology either.”

“The earth is very old and people haven’t been here very long. Also, it’s only been about 15 thousand years that the earth came out of the last Ice Age. They call it a warm interglacial period. Before that, for a million and a half years, the earth was in what scientists call the Pleistocene period. Most laymen call it the Ice Age. People don’t know anything about it. Scratch the surface and a lot people still believe the earth was created in 4004 BC.”

Cheryl ventured, “I thought human fossils were just discovered in Africa that are more than a million years old. I can’t remember the guy’s name who discovered them.”

“Dr. Leakey.”

“That’s right.”

His voice took on a more cultivated sound and she could tell that he had read many books, at least on this subject. “Well, they were our ancient ancestors. But it was only about 35 thousand years ago that humans appeared in Siberia. They’ve discovered fossils all along the Alaska coast that are the ancestors of the original American Indians who came across the Bering straight into Alaska from Siberia. It was only 10 or 20 thousand years ago when the Bering land ridge began to sink, forcing the people who lived there to escape to dry land. Some of them went back to Siberia but some moved southward into North America and became the Indians.”

Cheryl said, “Fascinating. I’m really impressed. You make me want to get some books out of the library.”

Robert sat up in bed. She looked up at him and saw that his thick blond hair had fallen onto his forehead again and it was sticking out in all directions like that of a small boy who had just got out of bed in the morning. He looked down at Cheryl, who was lying on her back with the covers drawn up to her neck. Her eyes were large and round like a small girl’s listening to her father tell a bedtime a story. He asked, “Do you know the history of the horse in America?”

“No. Tell me.”

“Well, when the settlers came here the Indians had horses and so the settlers thought they were native to America. But the Indians told stories about how the horses had come to their ancestors, who had never known them before, as a gift from the Gods. It turned out that the Gods were Spaniards. There were no horses before the Spanish came in the late 15^th century. Some of their horses escaped and became wild and reproduced in the wild. The Indians captured some of them and tamed them.”

“You’re so full of amazing stories. I could lay here all night listening to you.”

“Even more amazing, archeologists discovered that, after all, the horse originated in north America about 35 million years ago. Then, when the Bering land bridge appeared, they traveled across to Asia and eventually ended up in Europe. But they became extinct in America and didn’t appear again until the conquistadors arrived in the 15^th century!”

Cheryl wondered how so much knowledge and passion for knowledge could exist in a man who was so rough. She thought of Brad. She asked, “Why did you yell at Brad like that?”

“Yell at Brad?”

She was cradled in his arm again. The lights from San Francisco and the Tiburon harbor shone into the bedroom.

“I didn’t yell at him. I was just mad that’s all. I’d been smoking weed. A lot of it. I didn’t yell at him. He’s a blockhead isn’t he? I mean he thinks he can do and say whatever he wants. I just wanted to teach him a little politeness, that’s all.”

She wanted to tell him that he was so far beneath Brad that he didn’t even know how far. Their faces were very close together. She looked into his eyes and said in a very soft voice, “Don’t go after Brad. For me. OK?”

“I’m not going after him. He’s your boyfriend. I know.” He made a movement to disengage himself from her.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a roommate but I know him very well. I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“He’s not going to get hurt. Frank likes him. Frank was even talking about asking him into the gang. My brother gets crazy sometimes. We all told him he’s crazy.”

She laughed. “You’re right about that. You’ll never get Brad to join your gang. Not for a million dollars. He’s...” she continued the sentence in her mind, “he’s pure. He’s an angel, he’s untouchable.”

“Don’t worry about him. I know his type. I played football with guys like him.” Frank had told Robert that Brad was a quarterback at Piedmont high school. “I know the type. I played offensive line. I was a tackle. I was one of the grunts that made people like him into a star.”

“You went to Piedmont high school!?”

“Are you kidding? I went to Castlemont. One of the poor high schools in Oakland.”

“Brad’s in incredible shape. He has no fat on his body at all. I’ve never known a man with such a beautiful body. He moves like a dancer.”

“I thought you said you were only roommates?” He reach over and squeezed one of her breasts, playfully.

She reddened in the darkness. “We are. There’s only one shower in the house. The men run around in their shorts a lot.”

“I’ll bet you have some real orgies in that place.”

Her voice rose in anger. It’s sharpness surprised her. “I told you before. That isn’t true. Please don’t say it again.”

He was silent. “I’m sorry. You’re a very classy woman. I wish you had some feeling for me. I could really use a woman like you.”

“I do have feeling for you. I don’t want to get involved in a really heavy drug scene. I’m not criticizing you. I understand that you want to get rich. But I don’t like the life you’re leading. Maybe if I were to meet you after you make your money and get out of the life, it might be different.”

Robert arched his eyebrow and smiled, “After I get rich, I’ll have so many women I won’t need you anymore.”

“But if we got married now, and you got rich later, you wouldn’t need me then either.”

“Maybe.” He was silent for a moment. “I think you love Brad.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. I just feel it.”

She didn’t say anything. They could hear the noise from the party below. She knew that at any moment someone might enter the bedroom and laugh and excuse himself and they would have to get out of bed and dress quickly. She said, “He lives on his own terms. He acts from an inner conviction and doesn’t care what other people think. I guess I like that. I suppose I love that.”

“Like the way he barged up the stairs yesterday, like he owned the place. It was fun yelling at him. He looked so surprised, I almost felt sorry for him. But it was like he just stuck his face in the window and said ‘throw a pie in my face.’ How could I resist?”

“I’m almost surprised he didn’t throw a punch at you.”

“He’s not that kind of guy. Like you said, he acts out of principle. Don’t you think we’ve got your place staked out? That Derrin guy for example. Now there is a wimp if I ever saw one.”

“He’s not a wimp. He’s completely non-violent. He doesn’t believe in war or any aggression of any kind.”

“That’s what I mean. He’s a wimp. Piss in his face and he comes back for more.”

“That’s mean.”

“What can I say? He’s a wimp. But don’t worry. We don’t have no reason to get in his face.”

“Do you think Brad is a wimp?”

“Brad is a big cat. But he’s a loner. Like I said, Frank wanted to ask him in to the gang. But do you know what I did?”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything, I just laughed. I couldn’t stop laughing. He wanted to know why I was laughing. I said just what I told you. I said that guy was a quarterback at Piedmont high school. He has to be the star. The leader. He wouldn’t take orders from no one and it’s like you said, he does what he wants. I knew he wouldn’t fight me yesterday. I knew there was not a possibility in hell he would fight me. You can see it in his eyes. True, he would never back down until you killed him or he killed you. But he won’t fight unless there is a good reason. Anyone can see that.”

She was silent.

He added, “Maybe it’s why you love him instead of me.”

She didn’t say anything.

Robert said, “But look who made it to bed with you.”

She pretended not to hear him and said, “I can’t believe some of the people who are at this party. Was that really the mayor of Oakland?”

“Why not? He just thinks he’s at a party with a lot of rich people. He’s not into drugs. It doesn’t mean anything. These people, half of them are just here to be seen with each other. But half of them are into drugs too. You learn who they are. You leave the innocent ones alone.”

His naked body felt huge next to hers. She felt a frisson of fear. She was afraid for Brad as well, on some level, even though she had been reassured by Robert. She wanted to go. She was glad they were moving out at the end of the month. But she felt an odd affection for Robert, nonetheless. She guessed that it was a kind of maternal feeling. Her temples burned at the thought that her feelings for Brad were so obvious to this stranger. She wanted to go to Brad and tell him that she loved him and that it didn’t matter what he wanted to do with her, that anything would be all right. He could ignore her, fuck her or do whatever he wanted to her and she would be there. She laughed to herself at the hopelessness of it all.

“What’s so funny beautiful?”

“I don’t know. Life, I guess. Why my mother committed suicide when I was 12 maybe. Maybe my crazy aunt who never visited me in the orphanage. Brad. You. I don’t know.”

“You’re just about the most beautiful woman this big dope has ever been next to. You could chop off my right hand if that’s what it would take to keep you here next to me.”

“Like I said, I don’t want a heavy drug scene. You might be dead in a couple of years.”

“Don’t talk about death.”

She was silent.

He said, “You’re right doll. I’m not the marrying kind anyway. Not now. Not until I get rich at least. My old man was a lousy father. I don’t want to be like him. I wouldn’t put any woman through that. Especially a woman like you. I couldn’t do that.”

She said, “Maybe you can look me up after you get rich.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Can we go back now? It’s pretty late.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

He said, “Thanks for being you. I’ve never been close to such a beautiful soul. Not that I’m trying to convince you to go with me. I just want you to know how I feel. I feel lucky.”

“I appreciate that. I guess I feel lucky too. I didn’t think you were much, I guess.” She laughed and told him a white lie that she almost believed herself, “But I’ve changed my mind.”

He kissed her on the cheek. He said, “Let’s get dressed.”

“OK.”

Chapter 15

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