Authors: Todd Strasser
“But you just spent
a week
with Willow Twine. You couldn't have mentioned me or asked her to invite me over?”
“I tried your old number and it didn't work, Avy. I went to the address you gave me and they said you'd moved long ago. I've been texting you all week and you never hit me back.” But I could have looked for Avy sooner during this trip. There had been more than enough downtime to do that.
Avy gazes sadly at me as if he knows I'm not being entirely sincere. “I e-mailed you all that information months ago. The change of address. My new cell phone number. I guess it was just one of the e-mails I sent that you never bothered to read.”
I stare down at my coffee. It's true. There were some
e-mails I didn't answer. I was just so upset about his cosmetic-surgery plans. “But I sent you e-mails you never answered, either.”
“Not true,” Avy replies. “I answered every one I could, Jamie. If I didn't answer a few, it was because I was away.”
“Away?”
Avy rubs the side of his thin new nose thoughtfully, as if he's trying to make up his mind about something. “Mexico mostly.” He gestures to his face. “So, you still haven't told me what you think.”
I'd been afraid he would ask. “It's so different, Avy. It's going to take me some time to get used to.”
His new face falls. “You don't like it.”
“I didn't say I didn't like it. You know you look different.”
Now it's Avy's eyes that start to get watery. He wipes the tears away with his fingers, and I feel awful and guilty for not being a better friend. He came out here all by himself. It must have been so lonely. I reach across the table and take his hand. “You're right, Avy. You deserved better from me. I'm sorry. I really am.”
Avy nods, sniffs, wipes away a tear with the heel of his hand, gazes off. “I don't know, maybe it wouldn't have helped, anyway. It's not like I haven't been hustling, auditioning, doing everything I can to get noticed. Everything! I mean, Jamie, I did things . . . things I can't even talk about.” Fresh tears appear, and he dabs them
with a napkin. “I don't get it. I mean, I know I'm good. You know I'm good. Back in New York, at Herrin, I was the most talented actor they'd ever seen. Everyone said so. I got those commercials. I would have had that role on
Rich and Poor
if my stupid parents had let me.”
“Avy, you
are
talented. Seriously, I can't believe that in all this time you haven't gotten a single gig.”
“I've had a few, but mostly dead-end, pathetic, nonspeaking parts. Extras work. Crap that never led anywhere. You have no idea how hard it is out here, Jamie. How many other Avy Tennents there are fighting for the same roles. Out here I'm not one
in
a million. I'm one
of
a million. It sucks, Jamie. It really does. You just have no idea.”
I squeeze his hand. “But if this is what you really want to do, you have to keep trying. I'll be more supportive. I'll never let you down again. From now on I'll always,
always
be there for you. I promise.”
He smiles weakly and gazes off in thought.
“So . . . are you still auditioning?” I ask. I know what I saw back at that apartment. But he must be trying to do
something
.
Avy shakes his head. “I'm taking a break. Trying to do some writing. Movie scripts, TV pilots, stuff like that. I've got a friend who knows Seth Stieg. He's Tim Stieg's brother. Remember that Bravo series about the last woman on Earth? That was Tim's
show. Seth says Tim's looking for some new ideas. So, Dan and I are trying to come up with stuff.”
“Was Dan one of the people back at the apartment?” I ask.
Avy frowns, then nods. He stares at his e-cig as if suddenly fascinated. “Yeah, I know. Not the most productive atmosphere, huh?”
“Why did you leave the condo in Starwood?”
He shrugs. “They treat you like a kid. You're constantly chaperoned. I didn't come all the way out here to have a curfew, you know? Never had one back home. Why do I need one here? I can make it out here on my own, Jamie. I just need a break.”
I believe him. Only, who's going to give this trembling, nicotine-stained, surgically altered semiâbasket case a break? I can't help thinking that the only roles he looks ready for are a drug fiend or a zombie.
Then he gives me that impish look I remember so well from Herrin. It's almost a relief. Like there's still a little of the old Avy left. “So, maybe Dan and I move a little product on the side. It pays the rent, and it's no big deal, Jamie. Everybody in this town uses. I swear, it's just like on
Entourage
. Everyone does a little something. And the crazy thing is, it's considered a legitimate way up. I mean, from dealing into acting. You wouldn't believe how many stars and people high up in the business started out peddling bags and grams. Some really famous people . . . including Willow's old boyfriend.”
“Rex?” I blurt. Of course, like most of the world, Avy doesn't know that Willow and Rex have just gotten back together. Although, from the way things sounded when I left, it's a pretty good bet they won't be together much longer.
Avy smirks. “How do you think Dobro supported himself all those years while he tried to get bands going? They used to call him drug dealer to the stars.”
Dear Willow,
I am very angry that you have not called or written me back. You know how I feel. Dont you care? Everyone else takes from you. I only want to give. You dont want to be sorry someday do you?
And next time I see that big bald head jerk that works for you he better watch out. I will cut him up so bad like sliced salami.
Did the police tell you I talked to
them? I told them about the danger you are in. I think they understand but how much can they do when this whole city is full with creeps and criminals and sick people? Can they give you protection 24/7 like you need? I dont think so.
I wonder if maybe you dont believe you are in danger. Or maybe those stupid people like the big bald head jerk and Doris tell you there is no danger because they know they cant protect you and dont want to lose their job.
You need to have me protect you because I am the only one that loves you. Do I have to show you how much danger you are in? Do I need to show you how much you need my protection?
You know who I am. You should answer me. We dont have forever. I can feel that the danger is getting closer. Please answer me. Please let me protect you from him before it is too late.
I love you.
Richard
“SO, HOW ARE THINGS WITH NASIM?” AVY ASKS IN THE COFFEE SHOP.
“Okay,” I manage.
He gives me a look. “That didn't sound encouraging.”
All I can do is shrug. Avy has enough problems and doesn't need to hear about mine, so I make up a lame excuse to avoid talking about Nasim and change the subject. “It's just hard being so far away. Don't you want something to eat?”
“Naw. Not hungry.”
That's hard to believe, considering how scrawny he is. We finish our coffees. Through the windows the California sun is going down and the sky is blue, purple,
pink, and orange. The red-eyes will start to takeoff for the east coast in a few hours. I know I should get moving, although I hate leaving Avy like this. “I'm going back to New York tonight. Why don't you come with me?”
He slumps in his seat and gazes up at the ceiling. That momentary impishness, that glimpse of the old Avy, disappears. “So everyone can see what a failure I am? So they can see that I didn't make it?”
“They won't care. Just come back with me, okay? This isn't the right place for you, Avy. These are the wrong people. You need a fresh start. Please? You don't have to go to your parents' if you don't want to. We'll move in with my father. He's got room. You can be my roommate. We'll get you cleaned up and healthy. You can look for acting jobs in New York, and maybe after a while you can come back out here and start fresh.”
Avy looks across the table at me, and his eyes are soft and sad. He takes a drag off the e-cig and exhales thin vapor. “You mean it, Jamie?”
“Of course I mean it.”
A crooked smile creases his lips. “Maybe I should.”
Inside of me a warm bud of hope blossoms. In the middle of everything that's gone wrong, maybe this is one thing I can make go right. “Great! We'll fly back tonight. I'll put your ticket on my debit card. You can pay me back when you get the money.”
“Yeah.” Avy nods. “Only, I can't go back tonight.
There's one thing I have to do first. It'll just take a few weeks.”
The blossom begins to wilt. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It's just this one thing.”
The fact that he won't say what it is worries me. “Can't you do it when you get back to New York?”
“No. It's something . . . I have to do here, Jamie. I promise I'll come back as soon as it's over. Really, I will.”
“In a few weeks?”
“A month, maybe. Not more than that. I promise.” He's drumming his fingers, glancing at the coffee shop door.
A month? What could possibly take a month?
“Are you sure, Avy? Why not come back with me tonight? We'll start all over together. You and me. Just likeâ” I was going to say “old times,” but it won't be. I'm not sure what it will be like for Avy back in New York. I can only hope it will be better than it is here.
He wraps his arms around himself, tucks his hands into his armpits as if the temperature has suddenly dropped. I hear tapping and realize it's his foot. He takes another puff on his e-cig, then flicks away an imaginary ash with jittery fingers.
“I'm worried that you'll change your mind,” I tell him honestly.
“I won't, Jamie. I promise. I'll just take care of this one thing and then I'll come.” He places his hands on the
table and gives me a nod. It's time to go.
Out on the sidewalk, Avy spreads his arms for a good-bye hug. I step close and slide my arms around his skinny, bony body.
“Promise me one more time you'll come home,” I whisper.
“I promise,” he says, but he's already pulling out of my grasp.
Filled with a sense of foreboding, I grab his shirt and stop him. “Swear?”
“Swear.” He grins and winks. Then, once again, like that hot summer night back in New York City the previous August, he strides away down the sidewalk.
We have to tread a very fine line in some of these cases. Especially where there's been no outright threat. Richard Hildebrandt hadn't said or written anything threatening to Willow Twine. This was a case where the only person who'd suffered any harm was Richard Hildebrandt himself. If he'd walked into any LAPD station after Sam Russell roughed him up and had shown the police his bruises, I think the police would have been obligated to bring Russell in and book him for assault. It wasn't like Hildebrandt had been trespassing. He'd been on the street. I guess we're just lucky that some of these creeps and weirdos don't realize that the
law is there to protect their rights, too.