Tag

god | An LA Crime Story - Part 2

Bedtime Story

By | Serial | No Comments

Five hours later, just before dawn, Aggie was still sleeping as Rhea, clenching the spider loosely in her hand, snuck back into her bedroom through the window. She tiptoed over to Aggie, whose sleeping body was twisted in dream. She pulled a Kleenex from a box by the bed and settled the spider into it.

“Stay there.” she whispered, “Stay there until my sister wakes up.”

Realizing she was talking to a spider, she shook her head and folded the tissue over the spider and tucked it next to Aggie’s pillow. She went to bed. She fell right asleep.

The spider wriggled out of the tissue and wobbled to the corner of the bed where Aggie’s green jacket hung from a post.

Five hours later, just before dawn, Aggie was still sleeping as Stel put the green jacket on her and tucked her into the back seat of the family’s Acura. Rhea snuggled into a pillow in the front passenger seat. Stel loaded them down with pop tarts, peanut butter, a thermos of orange juice, Triscuits and a jelly jar full of water and a ziploc baggie of kitty kibble for Poo, who was asleep in Aggie’s lap. Steve started the car. Stel leaned in and kissed him. “Try and get back by four.”

“We’ll make it by then, easy.” He kissed her back.

Stel shook Rhea a little, this was important, “You Dad’s going to be busy so watch your sister.”

“I will.” Rhea promised then Stel added, “And bring back some of Joe’s rellanos.”

“OK.” Rhea promised again.

Stel kissed her fingers then touched the Saint Christopher medal that hung from the rear view mirror. She waved as the car drove off.

 

Uncaged

By | Serial | No Comments

“Maybe I didn’t love you quite exactly as I should have…” Steve’s favorite CD played as the three Porters headed south down Interstate Five. Aggie had her little pink sunglasses on, looking cool, singing along. By the time they reached the border, the Willie CD had played almost nine times and Aggie had taught Poo to meow along with the chorus, “You were always on my mind. You were always on my mind…” Poo was pretty good. It cracked Steve and Rhea up.

Sprawled lazily around a the Port of Ensenada, the low-rise city neither welcomed nor refused anyone. Steve drove familiar streets into the outskirts of the business district and parked in front of Renaldo’s party supply store… pinatas, plastic wreaths, ornaments and a hundred dolls hung from strings across the open front. The three Porters went in. Poo stayed in the car.

Inside, the wonderland was crammed wall to wall, ceiling to floor with stuff. Boxes and boxes, shelves and shelves of stuff. Dozens of birdcages hung from ceiling fans, door knobs, ladders, water pipes, light fixtures and the branches of a big dead tree stuck in a giant pot in the middle of the room. Each birdcage had one or two or three blue parakeets in it. Sometimes a feather would fall from their cages to the floor.

Rhea went straight for the costume jewelry: bangle bracelets crusted with plastic jewels, giant glass rings and brooches and chokers sporting dragonflies and bees. Steve and Renaldo searched the store for every baby Jesus night light they could find. Aggie stood in the middle of it all, saddened by the birds. They were always quiet; not a peep, not a song. Surely unhappy to be caged inside a party store.

One of the cages hung low on a dead tree branch, about eye level with Aggie. The bird was watching her as it plucked one of its feathers and pushed it between the wire bars so it fluttered to the floor. Aggie picked it up. She looked at the bird; it looked back at her, like they were talking. After a while, Aggie unlatched the bird’s cage door. It nodded at her as it slipped out. But it didn’t fly away. It hopped over to its nearest friends, two parakeets in a cage that was hanging from a coat hook. With its beak it unlatched that cage door and the two birds hopped out. They split up and fluttered over to three other cages, one was sitting on the counter where Rhea was trying on a pair of Freida Kahlo earrings. It caught her eye. She turned and saw Aggie, holding the little blue feather. Rhea figured it out in a flash and hurried over to her.

“What are you doing?!”

“Nothing…”

As the birds stealthily continued their prison break and Steve and Renaldo remained preoccupied, Rhea called out to Steve.

“We’re hungry, Dad. OK if we go over to Joe’s?”

“Yeah, OK. I’ll be there as soon as Renaldo packs all this up. Order me something.”

“OK.”

“Watch your sister.”

“OK.”

Rhea took Aggie’s hand and felt something in it; she was still holding the blue feather. She had an orangeade soda in her other hand. Rhea took the feather and tucked it into Aggie’s pocket.

“C’mon. Let’s fly.” she smiled as she pulled Aggie out of there.

Asombroso

By | Serial | No Comments

Rhea held tight to Aggie’s hand as they made their way through Christmas shoppers to Joe’s café four doors down. The only vacant table in the tiny café was right by the front door. Rhea sat Aggie down at the table and told her to “Stay right here and don’t move. I’m gonna go order us some lunch.”

“OK.”

Spritely Joe Leybas was cooking in a battered old frying pan on a two burner stove in the back of the unadorned room. He looked up as Rhea approached. A smile creased his eyes.

“Rhea! Hola. Back so soon!”

“We ran out of Jesus night lights.” Rhea explained. “They’re our biggest seller.”

Joe tossed a fat hunk of fresh fish into a pan sizzling with garlic and lard.

“Is that Yellowtail?” she asked, breathing it all in.

He nodded and smiled then splashed some tequila on it from a bottle of good Asombroso.

“Oooh, I’ll have that, please. Dad, too, he’ll be here in a minute.” She turned to Aggie, who was already looking bored. “Aggie, what do you want to eat?”

“Cake please.” Aggie chimed.

“I don’t have cake–” Joe started–

“That’s OK. I’ll get her some cupcakes at Boom Boom.” Rhea told him then asked how, exactly, he was making the Yellowtail.

He loved to talk about food. So did Rhea. As he told her how – first – the fish needed to be so fresh you could smell the Pacific, then you marinate it in tequila – Asombroso if you have it – and lime… Rhea got lost in the story.

Sitting all alone by the door, Aggie was getting antsy. A fat man came in. Aggie felt a flutter of shadow cross her face and turned and looked out the gap where the door hadn’t quite closed.

A blue parakeet flew by. My oh my! Then six or seven or eight followed. Aggie ran out, after them.

Bye Bye Birdie

By | Serial | No Comments

A gray mist filled the December sky, saturating the colors of the busy street at Christmastime… saturating the bright blue of the parakeets flying away.

Aggie wove through the throngs of people in the street. She kept her eyes up, on the one bird in the sky who seemed to linger a bit, letting her keep up. She approached Boom Boom Carnerceria just as Panama Jones came outside. He was holding two churros and a soda. He was a little nervous but a couple puffs had calmed him down. He concentrated on following the directions of Leland Hays who had told him to, “Use a churro or anything sweet.” to get a little girl into the new blue van he had lent Panama. “We’re helping them.” Hays had explained, “Taking poor little Mexican girls– who are by themselves. We put them with a nice family in LA – give them a job for life. They get new dresses, plenty of food and a room of their own. They love that, their very own room…” Plus, there was the van. Panama had slept in that van the night before. It was nice. Safe. Warm. And it was his to use if he sometimes got a little girl and drove her across the border to LA. Plus he got paid. Pretty good deal.

A little girl’s voice made him look up.

“Bye bye Tyrone!” Aggie called up to the parakeet in the sky as she hurried past Boom Boom, right past Panama Jones. He watched her as she turned a corner and disappeared down a side street while chasing after a bird.

Panama followed Aggie around that corner. After about a half a block, he called to her softly, in Spanish. “Ninita– Ninita–!”

She was so fixated on the bird in the sky, she didn’t see him until he touched her arm and held a sweet churro out to her, asking her:

“Quieres un churro?”

She didn’t have time to try and understand – Tyrone flew close by and she ran down the street following him, sharing his joy.

Panama saw that she was focused on the birds. He followed her and he called to her, over and over in Spanish,

“Vamos a coger el chirrido. Podemos coger el chirrido. Podemos coger el birdie más rápido en el coche -” (Let’s catch the birdie. We can catch the birdie faster in the car–)

She didn’t understand a word he was saying but it sounded important so she stopped and turned to him.

“Huh?”

They were only inches from where the blue van was parked. Close enough for him to scoop her up and put her inside. Blink of an eye. He strapped her into a seatbelt and pointed up through the sunroof as Tyrone flew by.

“Ahi esta!” He said as he started the car and pulled away. “Lo atraparemos!” (We’ll catch him!)

Exactly four minutes and twenty-eight seconds after Aggie had first run out of Joe’s, Panama drove her north on a two lane road out of town. Into the desert. Easy Money.

Gone

By | Serial | No Comments

Joe gave Rhea a taste of the Yellowtail straight out of the pan – man that made her smile. For a sixteen year old SoCal girl, she had eclectic taste in food. Sure she liked Taco Town tacquitos and the potato wedges at the Arco am pm mini-mart but she could also taste the distinct edge of sweetness in the lime Joe used and was curious where it came from.

Impressed, he told her it came from a tree in his mother’s backyard. She lived by the sea and the salty air brought out the lime’s sugars. She had goats, too and their milk was tangy and sweet. He’d thought of trying to use it in some desserts.

“Maybe I’ll try and make a cake for your sister the next time you come down–” he told Rhea.

“You hear that, Aggie?” Rhea turned to her sister. The table by the door was empty. The door was open. Aggie was gone.

Rhea dropped her fork and ran.

Outside there was an urgent flow of people shopping, but no little white girls. Rhea stopped dead and looked in every direction. Then she saw her Dad, walking toward Joe’s with a big box full of Jesus night lights. She ran to him. He saw the panic in her eyes.

“Where’s Aggie?”

Over

By | Serial | No Comments

Back in Joe’s, the Yellowtail burned. Lard-filled smoke veiled the air as Joe looked everywhere for Aggie, hoping she was somewhere inside. The door was still open a crack and through it came the wails of Steve and Rhea calling Aggie’s name over and over and over until their voices cracked. The fat man turned the stove off. No one found Aggie. It was nearing three o’clock.

Panama drove slow on the partially paved bumpy desert road that led Northeast, toward the border. He didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to get to the crossing until it was dark; it made him feel less anxious – that and the Medusa weed buzzing his head. But it was the praying that got to him. It knocked him off his high, made him lose his cool.

“Please God.” The little girl said an hour into their journey. Her clear voice startled him. He looked at her. The churro he’d given her was lying in her lap, uneaten. The sunroof was still open. She held her hands up to the sky. “Please.” She prayed, “I want to go back now.”

In Spanish he told her to leave God out of it, that he was there to help her. “No no no. Dejar a Dios a solas.” He told her.”Yo voy a ayudar.”

Finally she let him know what he’d failed to figure out. “Mister I don’t know Spanish.”

Panama looked at her again, seeing her really for the first time. She was blond. She didn’t speak Spanish. Hays had said they were taking poor little Mexican girls–

She put her hands together again and looked up at the sky. “Dear God…” she began but he cut her off, “You don’t have to pray. You don’t have to get God involved, I’m going to help you. I’m going to get you a room of your own.”

“I don’t want my own room. I want to go back.”

He drove on. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He didn’t want to figure it out, didn’t want to know. He opened a window and lit a joint, pulling hard, letting the smoke fill his head. He blew it out the window and sprayed a tin can of air freshener all over him. And he drove on, ignoring Aggie. She rode in silence, for awhile. Then looked out the window and mumbled,

“Too far. You went too far.”

The fuck was she talking about? He sucked harder on the reefer; sprayed a little more freshener; drove a little bit faster.

“Too far. Too far. Too far.” She said softly, precisely and over and over and over until it pierced his brain.

He pulled over, skidded in the sand off the road, turned to her.

She looked him in the eye. “We went too far.”

“Now you listen to me–”

“Now you listen to me.” She interrupted him, “We went too far, now how will my sister find me?”

His mind started racing,”… She has a sister? Is she looking for her? Could she even drive? No, she’d have to be a kid, too. They were poor. No car. Did they have a car? He could leave the little girl here. Someone would find her. Maybe not. Maybe she’d die. Not good. Yes, he should take her over. She’d be happy. And he’d get to keep using the van. And he’d get a few hundred bucks. And… she’d be happy. He thought for a second, “You want to leave her a note?”

“OK.”

He found a pen in the glove box and a receipt. He gave them to her. “Here. Write it on the back.”

“I can’t write good yet.”

He snatched them back. “OK. OK. Dear– ” he looked at her. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Rhea.” She told him. “Rhea Porter.”

“Dear Rhea Porter,” he wrote on the back of the receipt then looked at her again.

“I am here.” she said. He wrote it down. As he opened the door, she told him to also write, “From Aggie.”

He added that to the note then got out of the van, stuck the note under a big rock, got back in the van and drove them on.

Paradise Motel

By | Serial | No Comments

Almost two hours later and six city blocks away, Rhea’s train slid into Union Station. It was three in the morning and almost busy. She followed fellow travelers through the cavernous hall; hurried past a gloriously huge Christmas tree and slipped through the front doors into the night. It was cool in LA. And misty.

Rhea stopped dead in front of the station, mouth agape at what she saw: Blocks of high rises mixed with Deco buildings, wide streets and Our Lady Queen of Angels church – all asleep for the night. But the streets were alive with cars. The sheer vastness of it stunned her. Scared her. Threatened her. And this was just a corner of it. She couldn’t move – didn’t know which way to go – didn’t know where to start looking.

“Bad place to stop.” A woman snarled at Rhea as she slammed into her on the busy walk outside the station.

Rhea started walking. Then she stopped. She unzipped the patent leather bag, grabbed the photo of Aggie and ran after the woman. “Wait! Wait –” she cried as she caught up to her and grabbed her arm. The woman stopped. Rhea showed her the picture. “Have you seen this girl?” The woman looked at the picture and shook her head, backing away from Rhea’s pain. Rhea shoved the picture into the faces of anyone she could who was leaving the station. She followed them into the parking lot and onto the street. “Have you seen her? Have you seen this girl?” Nineteen, twenty, thirty five times. No one had. A Security Guard finally shooed her away. “Take that business somewhere else.”

Rhea crossed the street and started walking up Cesar Chavez Boulevard. Away from the hub of the train Station, a darker vibe set in. There were few homeless back then but the sight of them huddled in doorways, asleep on cardboard, their arms around the wad of bags and rags that were theirs – shocked Rhea. She hurried past them and crossed the street toward Chinatown. Someone in a car driving by hissed at her, “Tasty Girl…” Another car pulled to the curb a few yards up. As she passed by, a man opened the passenger door, his big dick swinging free at her, the smell of stale piss and cum penetrating the mist. She ran.

At the end of the block, two teens huffing Krylon hung out in a little parking lot. As Rhea stopped on the corner, they checked her out. As she waited for the light to turn green, they moved closer. The light turned. She started to cross. They hurried closer. In the middle of the street she suddenly turned and swung her case at them, smacking the bigger one straight across his jaw, freaking them out. She ran, across the street and up a long block. Ahead she saw the sputtering purple and green neon strips that framed the Paradise Motel. It was open.

A ninety-pound woman with a popcorn ball in one hand and a tv remote in the other waved at a sign that said “NIGHTLY RATES $45.00.” when Rhea asked her how much was a room. Rhea handed over the cash. “Checkout’s at noon.” she informed Rhea and gave her a key.

Inside room 27, Rhea locked the dead bolt. She fell on the bed, holding the picture of Aggie close to her. She fell instantly asleep. She slept for fourteen hours.

Lake Hollywood

By | Serial | No Comments

Six miles north across the city and slightly west, Ozrin backed his Camry out of his garage and eased onto Barham Boulevard. Usually the thoroughfare that slices between the valley and the Hollywood hills was busy. But it was late, almost midnight. Ozrin opened his window to a mist that muted the late night sounds of the city’s Christmas Eve. He didn’t mind Christmas. The lights were nice and he had a party to go to tomorrow, an un-Christmas breakfast for those away from their families. He was bringing bagels from Sam’s on Larchmont, and a bottle of Trader Joes champagne.
 
Ozrin eased the Camry up Barham, careful to follow the speed limit.  He stopped at the yellow light, he did not rush it. He waited for the left turn arrow to turn green then turned on Lake Hollywood Drive. He followed it up through the  eclectic Estates to a ridge overlooking the Hollywood reservoir. It was deep blue and as still as glass under the sliver of a moon that barely shone down. There was a walking path around its three mile circumference but it closed at dusk. Now No one was there – not a car, not a soul, not a witness. That was good. Ozrin followed the road down to the reservoir. Three coyotes darted out from the fields on either side and jaunted alongside the Camry before crossing over in front of him, on their way to the woods that surrounded the water and crept up a hill toward the Hollywood sign. He smiled; they were skinny and looked hungry. That was good.
 
About halfway down the half mile stretch of road that ran alongside the water, there was a ramp. It was closed off by the chain link fence that ran around the water but there was enough room for the Camry to pull over. He backed up as close to the fence as he could get. Moving fast for someone out of shape, Ozrin got out, popped the trunk open and lifted out a thirty-five pound bundle wrapped in a dark green towel. He heaved it over that fence into the brush and drove away.

Aggie landed face-up on a bed of leaves and moss. She thought about Poo and the Christmas cookies she hoped to eat soon, as she waited for Rhea to find her. It was cold lying there; wearing only her green jacket with kittens embroidered on the pockets.

Aggie looked up and whispered her prayer, “Please God, help Rhea find me. I want to go home.”

Soon enough, she heard the rustle of footsteps on leaves. “Rhea!” she called out, as loud as she could but she could barely hear her voice, “I’m over here!”

Aggie tried to get up but she couldn’t move. As the footsteps got closer, she looked up to see Rhea’s face through the trees, hoping she’d have something sweet to eat. Instead she saw the glitter of grey eyes. And she knew. Coyotes had come to eat her.

To Be Continued…

A Path

By | Serial | No Comments

When Aggie was tossed over that Reservoir fence, she landed face-up on a bed of twigs and moss. She thought about Poo and the Christmas cookies she’d get to eat soon, as she waited for Rhea to find her. It was cold lying there; the green jacket with kittens embroidered on the pockets clung to only one of her arms. She repeated her whispered prayer, “Please God, help Rhea find me. I want to go home.” She heard the rustle of footsteps on leaves, coming closer. “Rhea!” she called out, as loud as she could but she could barely hear her voice, “I’m over here!”

She tried to get up but she couldn’t move. As the footsteps got closer, she looked up to see Rhea’s face through the trees, hoping she’d have something sweet to eat. Instead she saw the glitter of two sets of grey eyes. And she knew. Coyotes had come to eat her.

The coyotes crept close. Their breath felt nice on Aggie’s bare feet, it felt warm. But she was afraid. She tried to think of other things, like blue birds flying free and the smell of grass in spring but it was hard to concentrate. She could still move her eyes so she decided to look the coyotes in their eyes and ask them to please leave enough of her behind for Rhea to find. And when she looked down, she saw…

Tamarind! Alive again, standing on her knee, waving her broken leg at the coyotes, yelling, “Leave her alone! She’s been a good a friend to me!”

But the coyotes were hungry. With bared teeth and a low growl, they lunged for her. Tam opened her hairy little mouth and bit one of their legs. He howled and fell back, landing on a nearly empty Cheetos bag. The cheesy smell puffed out. They snatched it up and took it behind a creosote bush to lick up the last little crumbs. Tamarind wobbled up to Aggie’s face, walked right through her tears and settled on her cheek just below her eye. “Hello my friend.” she said.

”I thought you were dead.” Aggie whispered, so very happy to see her.

”Not any more.” Tamarind smiled, “Thank you for your prayer.”

Aggie smiled back but it quivered, “I’m cold, Tam.”

”I’m sorry.”

”Do you think my sister will find me?” Aggie asked, hoping Tamarind had some inside information.

“Not here she won’t.” Tamarind said then peered into the dark woods. “We need to get to the top of that hill.”

”OK.” Aggie said, feeling hopeful. Then she tried again to move. “I can’t get up.” she cried.

“It’s OK. Don’t cry. I’ll get some help.” Tamarind promised. She wobbled off of Aggie’s face and jumped down into the brush.

A moment later, out of the shadows, came a single whispered word: “Cake!”

All of a sudden the entire floor of the wooded bramble started to ripple and move as thousands and thousands of ants, sal bugs, silverfish, beetles and other spiders too – scurried out from under holly oak leaves, rocks and weeds and gathered around Tamarind, fueled by the promise of cake. Maybe it would be strawberry shortcake (made with biscuits and real whipped cream), or lemon pound cake drizzled in glaze or butterscotch caramel… or blueberry cheesecake with raspberry mousse or French vanilla cake covered in buttercream roses or blue velvet with cream cheese icing or maybe even a Christmas jelly roll or two. The bugs all had only one thought:

“What do we need to do?”

Tamarind pointed at Aggie.” Get underneath this girl; under every single part.”

The bugs crawled beneath Aggie and filled every nook, every cranny, every crevice.

“Are you ready?” Tam asked Aggie.

“Yes.” Aggie nodded,

Tam looked at the bugs, “OK. Carefully, carefully, carefully… Ready, set… Move!”

The bugs lifted Aggie up. It was just a tiny bit, a fraction of a fraction, you had to look really close to see but… as Tamarind started wobbling up an incline, into the moonless, misty woods, the bugs followed her, carrying Aggie on their backs.

The odd little procession marched steadily through a tangle of bushes and leaves. They carried her right past the two coyotes, who were still hungry. They couldn’t believe the feast parading before them. They crept closer and closer, ready to pounce.

Tam could feel them closing in. She turned her head and hissed, her words hitting them like spit:

“God will be mad if you do!”

Undaunted, the coyote named Ralph declared, “I don’t know if we believe in God. We’ve never seen him.”

“Well, then…” Tam argued, as the bugs paused the procession, “There’s karma to consider.”

“Huh?” Ralph pondered so Tam explained,

“If you do good, good comes to you. If you do something bad, bad will happen to you.”

“But we’re hungry!” the coyote named Lacey explained. “How is that bad? And besides, the little girl is nearly dead and it wasn’t us who killed her.”

“Ok ok ok but consider this:” Tam went on, “If you help us get her to the spot where she’ll be found, it will be a really nice thing to do. And nice things always end with…”

“Cake.” Ten thousand bug voices confirmed.

Or…” Tam added, honestly, “…at least they should.”

Ralph and Lacey looked at each other and considered everything. “OK.” they said, in unison, “Sign us up.”

“You, then. Over there.” Tam directed Ralph to take a position at Aggie’s feet. Lacey took her place at Aggie’s head. “You are to guard us.” Tam ordered. They nodded, earnestly then Tam reminded them,

“And don’t eat anyone.”

With a wave of Tam’s arm, they continued their journey.

As the mist settled in, they carried Aggie under a broken part of the fence, across a little road, over a patch of rocks, through a thicket of scrubby brush and into a grove of dark red Manzanita trees. The night was quiet. The only thing heard was the soft rustle and crunch of dirt and leaves and the breathing of ten hundred thousand bugs, carrying a heavy load. Sometimes there was a snippet of conversation as strangers became friends.

“Do you know of any good parties on New Years Eve?” one bug asked another, and “Where did you get that hat?”

A peace settled over them as they soldiered on. When they were about one-third of the way up, coming through a gnarly patch of thistle, the slithery tongue of a lizard lashed out at the seven hundred and ninety three ants carrying Aggie’s hand. They screamed and cowered. With a whack of a paw, Ralph sent the lizard flying. The ants righted themselves, everyone thanked Ralph for his quick response and everyone carried on. When they were almost half-way up, a sal bug spotted an old MacDonald’s bag and hollered,

“Food!”

“Keep walking.” Tam ordered, “I’ll get it.” She looked inside the bag but only the bun was left. She dragged it back to the group and everyone got a crumb. Fourteen ants crawled onto Aggie’s face and offered her their share.

“No thank you.” she said, her voice getting weaker, “You need it more than me.”

They ate their snack high up on Aggie’s nose, cooled by the fog, until two huge clawed feet swooped down, aiming for Aggie’s head. They screamed and Lacey leapt up. She grabbed the owl’s leg in her teeth and flung it back into the sky. They all walked on, a little weary, a little unnerved but still dedicated to their journey. To stave off their fears, some of them started to hum, then sing an old Bob Dylan song:

“You must leave now, take what you need you think will last. But whatever you wish to keep you better grab it fast.” Those who knew the song joined in… “Yonder stands your orphan with his gun; crying like a fire in the sun. Look out, the saints are coming through. And it’s all over now, baby blue…”

They made it through a patch of mud and past two sleeping raccoons. They started to think their troubles were over when they came upon a gigantic boulder that was way too big to go over. To the right of the boulder was the dark, dark forest. To the left it was very dark too. If Tam chose the wrong direction they could get lost and never make it to the top.

“Please God.” everyone prayed, “Show us the way.” Then they waited.

After a little while, a sliver of light fluttered down to the ground and landed on the left side of the boulder. It was a piece of Christmas tinsel. Tamarind took a few steps to the left, looked around that side of the boulder and gasped. Everyone followed, Everyone looked and everyone gasped, too.

“What is it?” Aggie whispered. An extra thousand bugs wriggled under her head and managed to push it up enough that she could see: In the blackness of the night, in the dark of the forest, a silver trail emerged, winding up the hill as a blue parakeet dropped bits of tinsel that lead the way.

”Tyrone!” Aggie cried out with one of the last bits of life she had. Tyrone fluttered his wings at her and flew on, lighting their way.

They followed the silver trail, up and up. In the distance, the faint sound of an old recording of the Temptations singing “Silent Night” started to play. Out of the shadowy mist came the almost melodic “meow” of a familiar cat voice trying to sing along. Suddenly, there was Poo, looking a little tired and a little bit thin but so happy to be with Aggie again. She nodded to Tam in apology and nuzzled Aggie’s hand as she joined the procession.

The forest started to thin. Soon they reached a ridge near the top of the hill, over which the letters of the Hollywood Sign loomed, hazy in the night’s mist. Just below was a line of houses; their back patios were set on the ridge. The patios were decked out in palm trees and yucca plants, hung with Christmas lights and tinsel. And on little tables under almost every tree were plates of cookies and cake left out for Santa Claus: yule log cakes, sprinkle cookies, chocolate chip cookies and frosted scones. There were shortbread and gingerbread cookies and lemon pound cake; red velvet, vanilla, rainbow and devil’s food cupcakes piled high with frosting. And carrot cake for the reindeer, peanut butter cookies which would be nice for Poo and candy canes everywhere.

The ten hundred thousand bugs marched right past, keeping time to the Temptations’ Christmas song, following their leader, Tam, carrying their precious cargo. Tamarind walked ahead to a little, deserted stone and stucco house that kind of crumbled down the side of the hill. At a small level spot she turned and looked at the view. Before her lay the whole little forest. It hugged the Hollywood reservoir. Just beyond that, the lights of LA glittered like diamonds reaching clear to the horizon. Tam waved to the bugs.

“Here.” She said.

The bugs set Aggie down, on that spot. They backed away. Tamarind wobbled up Aggie’s arm, then her shoulder, then onto Aggie’s face. She looked her in the eye.

“How are you doing?”

”I’m tired.” Aggie barely whispered.

“I know.” Tam replied. “It’s almost time for you to decide…” Aggie looked at her and Tam went on, “After you die you can stay here and wait for your sister or you can leave and go to heaven then get reborn whenever you want.” Aggie struggled. It was hard to decide. “Let’s all pray.” Tam told the bugs and coyotes. Everyone bowed their head and thought their very best thoughts.

After a minute, Aggie turned to Tamarind and said, “I want to stay.”

”OK.” Tamarind cuddled up on Aggie’s cheek. The bugs and coyotes surrounded them and softly joined in the last chorus of a Motown “Silent Night”. “Sleep In heavenly peace….”

Just then, the light went out in Aggie’s eyes and she died.

Aggie’s Soul rose up… an ethereal, shimmering slip of light in the shape of a girl. It slowed a little as it rose then stopped in the branches of a tree. After a pause – just three seconds or so – it fluttered back down. The shimmering stopped and it looked and sounded just like Aggie. She sat with Tamarind and watched Ralph and Lacey dig her grave then put her body in it, whole, and bury it.

A group of ants walked towards the houses while the new dead Aggie, Tamarind, Ralph, Lacey and most of the bugs sat out on the ridge by the grave, together. Soon, the ants returned carrying big hunks of cake, seven different kinds, which they shared with everyone. They all looked out over the ridge at the lights of LA and ate. Friends now forever.

“I am a long way from Normal Road.” Aggie said.

“She’ll find you.” Tamarind comforted her.

“I know.” Aggie nodded.

To be continued…

error: Content is protected !!