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Lime Juice | An LA Crime Story

Pink Polvorones

By | Serial | No Comments

The inauspicious office of The Hollywood Pulse was in a storefront wedged between a lavanderia and a Burger King. Manny Valdez was carefully sprinkling two drops of Tabasco on to each of six Nutter Butter cookies he’d lined up on his desk when Rhea walked in. He offered her one.

“Nutter Butter?”

“Sure.” she took one and bit into it. She nodded, nominally impressed by the added heat.

“I know.” he agreed, “The stuff is magic. “So… ” he continued, scrolling through some text on his PC. “I got your Barragans review.”

“And–?” she asked, more nervous than she expected to be.

He let out a breath, “It’s a little too prose-y, a little political–”

“Political? How?!” she cut him off.

He read from her review, “Everyone else is looking for fame or minimum wage–?”

“You used to write for that underground paper ‘Regeneracion’. In the eighties, right? I checked.”

“Yes. And you’re a benched cop. For whatever reason. I checked. Now we’re both trying to make some money.”

“Trying to–”

“Hold on– I think this is a good first effort. Tone down the politics. Keep it sexy.” He handed her a check. “Next one’s due next Wednesday by eleven. PM.”

“OK. Ahhh… Thanks.” She took the check. It wasn’t all she hoped it would be. “Ummmm… a hundred twelve dollars?”

“And seventy eight cents….” Manny added. “You gave me three hundred sixty words, minus taxes you get a hundred and twelve seventy eight.”

“Jesus. I thought it would be more.”

“Use more words.” he advised her. She nodded, agreeing and left.

It was eight fifteen when Rhea left Manny’s. Before she got in her car, she looked again at the check. So depressing. She felt that little panic again in her gut. Across the street was a Food For Less. She wasn’t much of a grocery shopper. She could get any essentials she needed – Pay Days. YooHoo. Coffee. Lime Juice. Fritos. Cold Cereal. Burritos – at any little local market or mini mart. But she’d been in the Food For Less a few times when she needed to stock up on canned soup and sour cream. She knew they had pretty good polvorones. She didn’t want to think about her situation just yet so she went in and bought three polvorones. She ate half of a pink one in her car. The sugar, flour and lard of the classic cookie soothed her enough that she gathered her logic, started her car and headed east, into Japan town.

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