Amberton is in a battered white van with a man named Kurchenko. Kurchenko is a short, tense, wiry man, veins are visible all over his body. And though he is not more than thirty-five, he looks fifty, he has thin gray hair and a thin gray mustache and he is missing one of his front teeth, his other teeth are the same gray as his hair. He has forty or fifty small black Xs tattooed all over his forearms, he will not discuss where he got them, what they represent, or what he did to deserve them. Amberton met Kurchenko through a private investigator who refused to continue to work for Amberton. The PI gave Amberton Kurchenko’s number and said call this guy, and please don’t ever call me again. They have been following Kevin’s mother for the past three days. They follow her to work, they follow her to the grocery store, to Kevin’s apartment, the hair salon, friends’ houses, restaurants, church. Amberton has a camera and takes pictures of her, Kurchenko stares at her and mumbles to himself in Russian.
Amberton gives Kurchenko a day off. He goes home. He hasn’t spoken to Casey since he left with Kurchenko, hasn’t seen or spoken to his children. He goes to his wing of the house, takes a shower, shaves his entire body, except for his head, masturbates. He leaves without seeing or speaking to Casey or the children.
He goes to a hotel in Beverly Hills known for its discretion. He takes a suite spends the first twelve hours in the suite ordering room service, eating, making himself vomit. He orders some porn on pay-per-view starts watching it decides he’d rather have the real thing he calls an escort service orders four boys the younger the better. Thirty minutes later they’re in the suite. They might be fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, none are older than eighteen, he’s happy with them and spends the next six hours doing things to them that could send him to prison for many, many years. When he’s finished he gives them large tips goes to sleep.
He wakes the next day his phone keeps ringing over and over it keeps fucking ringing. Only three people have the number Casey Gordon and his attorney he picks up the phone answers it.
Hello?
Casey speaks.
Where are you, Amberton?
Out.
Out where?
Just out.
We had an interview this morning?
What?
An interview. With that family magazine. They’re doing a feature about us, about how you can be famous and still have a happy, stable family. I told you about it about two hundred times.
I forgot.
Can you get home?
Tell them I had to go away.
Away?
Yeah, tell them I went down to New Orleans to do charity work.
Who’s gonna back that up?
Gordon and the publicists.
I’m pissed, Amberton. This really meant a lot to me.
It’s a bad time, Casey.
He hangs up, goes back to sleep. He sleeps for twelve more hours. He wakes up, orders a cheeseburger, eats it, throws some of it up, checks out, leaves.
He meets Kurchenko. They’re in a maroon minivan. They sit outside Kevin’s grandmother’s house. Using binoculars, they watch her eat, sit in front of the TV, go to the bathroom. Amberton takes some pictures. They spend a day outside of her house. They decide she isn’t going to leave, isn’t going to go anywhere. They go to Kevin’s sister’s house. She has four children, all girls, between the ages of four and twelve. Using binoculars, they take pictures of them eating, watching TV, going to the bathroom. They follow them to and from school. They follow them to and from dance class. They follow them to and from church. They take pictures of them.
They go to Kevin’s girlfriend’s apartment. Using binoculars, they watch her eat, sit in a recliner and read, cook. Amberton alternates between crying and calling her names dirty fucking cunt, disease-ridden whore, cum-guzzling bitch. Kevin pulls up Amberton starts sobbing tries to get out of the minivan Kurchenko stops him. Amberton keeps trying Kurchenko restrains his arms and legs with duct tape, puts a strip of the tape over his mouth. He watches Kevin and his girlfriend, takes a few pictures, drives away. An hour later he takes the tape off of Amberton’s mouth. Amberton starts sobbing again Kurchenko asks him where he wants to go Amberton gives him the name of the hotel in Beverly Hills.
In 1968, Robert Kennedy is shot and killed at the Ambassador Hotel after winning the California Democratic presidential primary.
Neither Maddie nor Dylan have insurance they want to go to a doctor to make sure Maddie is doing okay they find a walk-in clinic. A doctor looks at her, checks her pulse and blood pressure, gives her a blood test that tells them what they already know, gives her an ultrasound everything appears to be fine. It costs nine hundred dollars.
They have three thousand left. They need to move. Maddie doesn’t want to move Dylan tries to make her understand they can’t afford to live in the apartment anymore they need to save money for their child. They argue about it for a day, for a week. Dylan tells her they can continue to live there but she’ll have to get a job and they won’t be able to buy diapers for their child, Maddie tells him she’ll start looking for a place in the morning.
For the week two three Dylan goes to work spends the day carrying golf bags and pretending he knows the lines of putts and making jokes and giving mediocre golfers compliments on their mediocre shots. Maddie spends the mornings looking through classified ads makes lists of potential places though she doesn’t know where many of them are located they’re within their price range. She takes a nap has a small lunch usually macaroni and cheese and strawberries for dessert. She spends her afternoons on buses and sidewalks going from apartment building to apartment building. Once she sees them she usually moves on to the next one, they’re run-down, dirty, the neighborhoods scare her, there are too many blacks, too many Mexicans. When she does go into the buildings she is always disappointed, the apartments are small, the kitchens are old, the bathrooms are dirty they remind her of her house in Ohio, make her feel like she’s living with her mother again. She wants a building like the one they live in, clean and safe and white she wants an apartment like the one they live in. When she gets home every afternoon she cries she doesn’t want to leave. When Dylan gets home she makes dinner and they eat silently and they watch TV silently and get into bed silently they’re both too tired to do anything but go to sleep.
She starts to show. Not noticeably, at least to anyone who wasn’t looking for the bump, but enough for Dylan to notice, for her pants to stop fitting, she needs new bras. They go shopping buy everything three or four sizes too big they’ll only be able to do this once. Another week two three the money keeps dwindling he doesn’t know how they’re going to pay for their apartment, how they’re going to pay their medical bills, how they’re going to support their child, another week, Maddie stops looking for a new apartment says it’s too tiring another week.
He goes to Shaka he arrives at work early knocks on his door Shaka is reading the paper looks up speaks.
You’re here early?
I wanted to talk to you.
Come in, sit.
Dylan walks in sits, Shaka sets down his paper.
What’s up?
I’m wondering if there’s any way to get more hours, or do some extra work.
Shaka laughs.
More than the twelve or fourteen a day you’re already getting?
Yeah.
What’s wrong?
Nothing’s wrong.
Why do you need more hours?
My girlfriend is pregnant.
Shaka smiles.
No shit?
Dylan nods.
No shit.
Congratulations.
Thanks.
You excited?
I’m scared shitless.
Shaka laughs.
Pretty normal, I think.
A little is probably normal. I’m truly scared shitless.
How old are you?
Nineteen.
My wife had our first when I was twenty.
What’d you do?
Worked
my fucking ass off. Still doing it. We got four now, though two of ’em are out of the house and basically grown. I know how you’re feeling though.
So then you know I need to make more money.
You’re doing okay all things considered.
We live in an expensive apartment, we don’t have insurance, my girl doesn’t work.
Those are all fixable problems.
Not really.
Move to a cheaper place. Once you’re here for six months, which is soon, you can apply for city benefits, and if you’re married your wife is covered too. Make your soon-to-be-wife get a job. Problems all solved. I’d rather just make more money.
Then you better start offering blow jobs to the motherfuckers whose bags you carry, ’cause there isn’t another way working here. You already make more than just about every other caddie on the staff. How many of them got kids?
Shaka laughs.
You kiddin’ me? Just about all of ’em, and most of ’em got more than one.
Nobody here’s gonna cry for you. People will do what they can to help, but it’s life, man, you gotta make it on your own.
So no more hours?
Shaka shrugs.
There aren’t any to give.
How do I do the insurance?
Get married. To do that, you go to city hall and get a marriage license.
I got a cousin who’s a pastor who can do a ceremony and do the formalities, if you need witnesses, my wife and I will do it. Once you’re married, you fill out the forms and you should be covered. And I’ll ask around about a place to live. If I find something, it ain’t gonna be a place like you got now, walking distance with yuppie neighbors and a pool, but it’ll be safe. Once you’re there, you can figure out if your woman needs a job or not.
Thank you.
No problem.
Seriously, thank you.
You’re welcome.
Dylan gets up leaves the office gets in line for his first bag it’s a bearded, tattooed meat salesman who looks like a biker but pulled up in a small compact American car loaded with meat samples he takes two strokes off his score on every hole. After that it’s a Korean who speaks no English and throws his clubs. It’s a slow day it doesn’t look like there will be a third bag so he leaves the course walks home. He hopes Maddie isn’t there he knows she was going to go grocery shopping. He opens the door calls Maddie’s name nothing. He walks into their bedroom pulls out their remaining cash counts out five hundred dollars. He leaves the apartment walks back towards the course stops at a jewelry store it’s part of a nationwide chain they call themselves the Diamond Masters. He looks at the rings he stares at the case with the most expensive, three and four carats with diamond bands they’re beautiful and they make him hate himself because he loves Maddie and wants one for her but knows he’ll never be able to buy her anything like them. He moves sequentially down two carats beautiful but never, one carat maybe someday, sequentially down he’s surprised what he can get for $500 it’s better than he expected though it’s nothing compared to what he would like to get her, what he believes she deserves, what he feels is equal to his feelings for her. He motions to a woman working behind the counter who comes over shows him rings they’re small and simple but beautiful in their way the woman asks him his age he tells her she says the rings he’s looking at are perfect for a young couple starting a life together and it makes him feel slightly better though not much. After looking at ten rings, maybe fifteen, he chooses a 1/4 carat diamond solitaire with a simple gold band it costs $499 he pays the tax with his day’s tips. The woman puts it in a box hands it to him, smiles, speaks.
I hope you have a long, beautiful life together.
Dylan smiles, speaks.
Thank you.
He walks home. Even though he knows she’ll say yes he’s nervous, with each step closer to home he’s more so. The ring is in his front pocket. He’s scared it’s going to fall out, so every few steps he checks to make sure it’s still there. He wants to look at it but he’s worried someone will take it. Twice he goes behind buildings and takes it out and looks at it, smiles, touches the surface of the diamond with his finger, even though it’s small he’s proud of it. It’s better than anything anyone they knew at home had, neither set of their parents even bothered with rings. He tells himself it’s a beginning, their beginning, someday, somehow, he’ll get her a bigger one, for now this is perfect, it’s theirs and it’s perfect.
As he walks into their complex he can feel his heart start pounding his hands start shaking. He checks his pocket for the seventy-fifth time the ring is still there, he stops in front of their door and takes it out and looks at it and smiles. He puts it back. He takes a deep breath, he opens the door.
Maddie in the kitchen she’s making Hamburger Helper Homestyle Salisbury. She turns around smiles, speaks.
Hi.
Dylan smiles, speaks, he feels like glass he’s shaking.
Hi.
Good day?
Okay.
How many you get?
Two.
Big tippers?
Okay.
She turns back to the Homestyle Salisbury, stirs it, turns down the heat on the stove. He stares at her back. He’s terrified. He wants to step forward can’t just stares and shakes. Their life together rolls through his mind in a second or two, images flashing together meeting at elementary school the first time he saw her he felt it, he was seven and he felt it, watching her in class, on the playground, sitting with her at lunch their first kiss at eleven behind a liquor store where they both went to pick things up for their parents, the first time they went to the movies they saw The Flintstones: Viva Las Vegas they spent the entire time holding hands and kissing, the times they called each other because they were scared of their parents, the times they held each other after receiving a beating, all of the plans they made starting at twelve they had their dreams, their school dances, makeouts in the car, losing their virginity on a blanket in a field, graduation still dreaming, still dreaming, it passes by in a second or two.
He takes a step forward she’s still stirring he feels like he’s outside of himself. He steps forward puts his hand in his pocket still there. He steps forward how many times has he thought of this moment he doesn’t believe it’s here, now, happening, real. He steps forward he’s a few feet away she hears him turns around. She looks at him he’s shaking she speaks.
What’s wrong?
Nothing.
You look funny.
He pulls out the ring shaking hand she smiles.
What are you doing?
He drops to one knee smiles wider.
What are you doing?
He flips the top of the box the ring sits on a satin pillow. She smiles wider he speaks.
I love you, and since I was a kid I wanted to spend my life with you, and I love you so much, so much, and I want to know if you’ll marry me?
Smile wider, she speaks.
Yes.
On August 9, 1969, four members of Charles Manson’s Family enter the Los Angeles residence of film director Roman Polanski and murder five people, including Polanski’s wife, actress Sharon Tate, who was eight and a half months pregnant, and Abigail Folger, the heiress to the Folger’s coffee fortune. On August 10, 1969, Manson and three members of his Family enter the home of Leno and Rosemary LaBianca and stab the couple to death, carving “War” into Mr. LaBianca’s stomach and writing “Death to Pigs” and “Helter Skelter” in the couple’s blood on the walls of their home. Manson and four members of the Family are arrested, convicted of murder and sentenced to death. Their sentences are later commuted to life in prison when the death penalty is outlawed.
Patience. Diligence. Hard work. The daily grind it can wear a person down, oh yes it can, that daily grind, it’s a day-after-day kind of thing and it just wears a person down. One expects there to be some kind of reward, or payoff, for all of the effort, something that makes it all worth it, that puts a smile on the face, a spring in the ste
p, a tingle on the spine, and a feeling of freedom and joy in the heart. Here is Fun Facts Los Angeles Volume II.
At no point in world history has there been a greater number of professional artists, writers and musicians living and working in a single city than there are in Los Angeles in the twenty-first century.
The word T-shirt was coined in Los Angeles by a Japanese man working in a clothing factory. He called the item a T-shirt because it resembled the letter T when laid out on a table, and he was in the process of learning the English alphabet.
If Los Angeles County was a country it would have the fifteenth-largest economy in the world.
In 1918, a Chinese immigrant working in a Los Angeles noodle factory invented the fortune cookie. He did so believing that a cookie with a positive message in it would raise the spirits of the city’s poor.
In 1949, Frank Zamboni, who owned a local ice rink, invented the Zamboni ice-resurfacing machine. It is now used in 85 percent of the world’s ice rinks.
There are three hundred wild buffalo, which are protected by law, that roam Los Angeles County.
It is illegal in the City of Los Angeles to hunt for moths beneath the arc of a streetlight.
It is illegal in the City of Los Angeles to fly balloons more than five feet above the surface of the ground.
It is illegal in the City of Los Angeles to sit on the surface of an outdoor table at a restaurant.
There are an average of twenty vehicular car chases in Los Angeles County every day.
There is a museum in Los Angeles devoted to the banana. It has almost 20,000 banana-related items.
If all of the law enforcement officers in Los Angeles County were consolidated into an army it would be the fifth-largest army in the world.
There are more support groups in Los Angeles for the victims of UFO abduction than in the rest of the country combined.
Almost half of the dogs in Los Angeles are American pit bull terriers or pit bull mixes.