“
Not even if I knew.
”
“
You really think that I would ever start giving either of them shit?
”
“
I don
’
t do
matrimonials
, man. I have a terrible history of putting in,
and it
’
s never ended well.
”
Coy walked along with his face in the shadow of his hood.
“
Don
’
t
matter, I guess.
”
“
How
’
s that?
”
“
No way I can ever go back to them.
”
Doc knew that tone of voice and hated it. It reminded him of too many vomit-spattered toilets, freeway overpasses, edges of cliffs in
Hawaii, always pleading with men younger than himself distraught with
what they were so sure was love. It was actually why he
’
d quit doing
matrimonials. In spite of which, he now found himself prompting,
“
You
can
’
t go back, because if you did ...
”
Coy shook his head.
“
It would be my ass. Understand? My family
’
s,
too. This is like a gang. Once you
’
re in, you
’
re
in
por vida
.”
“
Did you know that when you joined up?
”
“
All I knew was we couldn
’
t do each other no good staying together.
The baby was looking like shit and worse every day. We
’
d get fucked up and just sit there and go,
‘
We
’
re draggin each other down, what
’
re we gonna do?
’
and then end up doing nothing, or we
’
d say,
‘
Wait till
we score again and that
’
s out of the way, then we
’
ll come up with some
thing,
’
but that never happened either. So here came this opportunity.
These people up here had money, it wasn
’
t like it was Bible freaks wan
dering up and down the beach screamin at you or nothin, they really wanted to help.
”
It was occurring to Doc now, as he recalled what Jason Velveeta had said about vertical integration, that if the Golden Fang could get
it’s
cus
tomers strung out, why not turn around and also sell them a program to help them kick? Get them coming and going, twice as much rev
enue and no worries about new customers—as long as American life was
something to be escaped from, the cartel could always be sure of a bottomless pool of new customers.
“
They just gave me the tour here,
”
Doc said.
“
Thinkin about signin yourself in?
”
“
Not me. Couldn
’
t afford it.
”
By now they were tuned to each other enough that Coy, if he wanted,
could take this for an opening to talk about what kind of a deal he
’
d made. But he just paced along in silence.
“
Short of actual marriage counseling,
”
Doc said carefully,
“
if I did
just run a fast check and happened to find some angle you maybe haven
’
t
thought of—
”
“
Nothing personal,
”
was that a small tremor of anger?
“
but there
’
s too
much
you
haven
’
t thought of. You want to run your check, I can
’
t stop you, but maybe you
’
ll wish you hadn
’
t.
”
They had walked almost to the gate, and the shadows around the
place were lengthening. Back at the beach, the sea breeze would be turn
ing around about now.
“
I can dig you
’
re trying to chase me off of this,
”
Doc said,
“
and it
’
s also a bad idea for me to try and phone you. But look. Whatever it is you
’
re caught inside, I
’
m still out here, on the outside of it.
I can move in ways you may not be able to
...
”
“
I can
’
t come any further now,
”
Coy said. They were in an apricot orchard near the gate.
“
Here, let me have the robe back.
”
Doc must have taken his eye off Coy for a second. Somehow in the act of shaking the robe out or folding it or something, it was taken from
his grasp, flourished like a magician
’
s cape, and when Doc looked where
it had been, Coy was already gone.
Doc took 101 back and arrived at the grade up to Thousand Oaks just in time to have to brake abruptly for a paisley-painted VW bus full of giggling dopers which had materialized in front of him. The passing lane was already solid with semis trying to swerve around the VW, so there was no point trying to go there. Once Doc might have grown impatient, but with age and wisdom he had come to understand that these units never had any fucking compression to begin with, owing to engineering decisions taken long ago at Wolfsburg. He shifted down, reached for the volume knob on the radio, which was playing
“
Some
thing Happened to Me Yesterday
”
by the Stones, and figured he
’
d get up
the hill when he got there. Which would have been fine except that now he had time to think about Mickey
’
s necktie and begin to wonder how the ape who was wearing it had come by it, exactly, and recall unavoidably the hand-painted image of Shasta Fay, on her back, spread and wet and, if he was not mistaken, though he
’
d only caught a fast glimpse, just about to come, too.
Mickey must
’
ve been wearing that particular tie when they grabbed him. Just took it out of the closet t
hat morning at random, or maybe
because of something deeper. Then when they processed him into an inmate uniform at Chryskylodon, they confiscated the tie, and that
’
s
when the ape saw it and just decided to take it. Or had Mickey exchanged
it later for some mental-slam favor, a phone call, a smoke, somebody else
’
s
meds? Back in junior college, professors had pointed out to Doc the use
ful notion that the word is not the thing, the map is not the territory. He supposed you could extend this also to the nudie necktie is not the girl. But he wasn
’
t rational enough right now to feel anything but ripped off, not for Mickey so much as—ancient history by now or whatever—for Shasta. Forget the fantasies her picture might
’
ve aroused in the ape—
how little could she have meant to Mickey, for him to let it happen?
doc got back
to the beach just at early evening, coming up the back
slope of the dunes and over, to a hazy view of bay and headlands, a pure
sunset of the colors steel takes on as it heats to glowing, lights of airliners,
some blinking and some steady, ascending silently from the airport in
short clear curves before setting out to traverse the sky, sometimes finding brief conjunction with an early star, then moving on
...
He decided
to stop in at the office, and as he was letting himself in, the phone started
ringing, quietly, as if to itself.
“
Where
’
ve you been?
”
said Fritz.
“
No place I
’
d recommend.
”
“
What is it, you sound terrible.
”
“
This thing
’
s turnin sour, Fritz. I think I found out where they took Mickey. He might not be there any longer, or even alive, but either way he could be pretty fucked up by now.
”
“
Better I don
’
t know too much, but how about the po-lice, you
’
re sure
they can
’
t help?
”
Doc found a tobacco cigarette and lit up.
“
Never thought I
’
d hear that from you.
”
“
Just slipped out.
”
“
I wish
...
”
holy shit did he feel tired,
“
just once I
could
trust them.
But it
’
s like the force of gravity, they never pull in any but the one direction.
”
“
Always admired your principles, Doc, specially now, cause I ran those plate numbers you gave me, and it turns out that some of them belong to members of the L.A. police reserves.
’
Seems a lot of those guys joined up during the Watts clambake so they could play run-nigger-run and have it all be legal. Since then they
’
ve been like a little private militia the LAPD uses whenever they don
’
t want to look bad in the papers. You got a pencil, you can copy these down, just don
’
t tell me what happens.
”
“
Owe you, Fritz.
”
“
Not at all, any excuse to feel like I
’
m surfin the wave of the future here, just got this new hire in, name of Sparky, has to call his mom if
he
’
s gonna be late for supper, only guess what—we
’
re
his
trainees! he gets
on this ARPAnet trip, and I swear it
’
s like acid, a whole
‘
nother strange world—time, space, all that shit.
”
“
So when they gonna make it illegal, Fritz?
”
“
What. Why would they do that?
”
“
Remember how they outlawed acid soon as they found out it was a channel to somethin they didn
’
t want us to see? Why should information be any different?
”
“
I better get Sparky to hurry up, then. Today he tells me he thinks he knows a way to get into the CII computer up in Sacramento without
them knowing. So pretty soon whatever the State Bureau has, we
’
ll have,
too, you can think of us as CII South.
”
Just then they heard the line current drop. Somebody was tapping in.
“
Well, he
’
s a dang good retriever,
”
Fritz went on unperturbed,
“
if it
’
s there, ol
’
Sparky
’
ll find it, he loves at shit.
”
“
Remind me to pick him up some of those Liv-a-Snaps,
”
Doc said.
Back at his place, Doc found Denis with an unlit joint hanging off his lip, sitting by the alley freaking out.
“
Denis?
”
“
Fuckin Boards, man.
”
“
What happened?
”
“
They trashed my place.
”
Doc almost said,
“
How can you tell?
”
but saw how upset he was.
“
Important thing s,
art you
okay?
”
“
I wasn
’
t there, but if I was, they would
’
ve trashed me too.
”
“
The Boards—the whole band, Denis, the rhythm guitar, the bass player, they all broke in, and, and then what?
”
“
They were looking for those pictures I took, man, I know it. My stash was all over the floor, they cleaned out the fridge, put everything
in the Ostracizer and made smoothies and didn
’
t even leave any for any
body else.
”
‘“
Anybody else,
’
that
’
s you, Denis. Why should they leave you any?
”
Denis thought about this, and Doc watched him start to calm down.
“
Come on in the house and we
’
ll relight that thing in your mouth there.
”
“
Because,
”
Denis answered Doc
’
s question a bit later,
“
they are supposed to be freaks, a freak surfadelic band, that
’
s their public image, and
freaks don
’
t rip off other freaks, and most of all if they take your food, freaks share it. Didn
’
t you see that movie? There
’
s this actual
‘
Code of the Freaks
’
—
”
“
I think,
”
Doc said,
“
that was like 1932, some traveling circus story, different kind of freaks....
”
“
Whatever—those Boards didt
’
n behave no better than fuckin straights do.
”
“
You sure this was the Boards, Denis, I mean, were there any, like, witnesses?
”
“
Witnesses!
”
Denis laughed tragically.
“
If there were, they
’
d be run-nin around all askin for autographs and shit.
”
“
Look, I
’
ve got the negatives and the proof sheet, and Bigfoot
’
s got that print with Coy in it, so whoever it was if they didn
’
t find anything at your place, chances are they won
’
t be back.
”
“
All my Chinese food,
”
Denis shaking his head. Once a month he ordered thirty meals from South Bay
Cantonese out on Sepulveda and
kept them in the freezer to thaw out one by one for meals over the next month.
“
Why would they—
”