“
So I said,
‘
Puck, it
’
s all right, I won
’
t do anything violent, I just want to know who she is,
’
and Puck started to laugh and wouldn
’
t tell me. But
that was around the time I found out about Einar, and one day I was
coming out of a rehearsal at the Shrine Auditorium obsessing about this
particular B-flat, and there was Einar with all these Hawaiian orchids and the sweetest look on his face, and it was at least a month before he admitted he
’
d worked his way like a pickpocket through the crowd at a debutante ball in the Ambassador and stolen the corsages right off people
’
s gowns
...
”
Being the continuation of a long story Doc had forgotten, or maybe missed, the beginning of.
“
I don
’
t know why I
’
m telling you all this.
”
Doc didn
’
t either, though he wished he had a small aggravation fee for each time somebody had spilled more than they meant to and then said they didn
’
t know why. Sortilege, who liked finding new uses for the term
“
Beyond,
”
thought this was a form of grace and that he
should just accept it, because at any instant it could go away as easily as
it came.
According to Trillium, Puck and Einar had met in the license-plate shop at Folsom. Sex immediately became an issue, and the boys were soon known for their ill-tempered bickering, on and on about the
age-old question
¿
qui
é
n es m
á
s macho?
Numberless cartons of smokes
were wagered and lost all up and down the block over how long the
arrangement would survive, and to everybody
’
s surprise it outlasted both
their sentences. One fine day, as the Chiffons like to put it, there they
were, domiciled in West Hollywood, south of Santa Monica Boulevard,
in a courtyard complex with more subtropical shrubbery than anybody could remember what half of it
was, and throwing so much shade
that you could lie out by the pool all day and never lose your prison pallor
...
“
Wow Trillium, what happened to our food man,
it’s
taking them an awful long time to bring it.
”
“
We ate it already?
”
“
What. Did the check come? Who sprang for it?
”
“
Can
’
t remember.
”
They headed out to Curly s. By the time they got there, Doc had decided he wasn
’
t going to drive in Las Vegas any more than he had to. Everybody here drove around like a dedicated loser, expecting moment to moment to get into an accident. Doc could relate to this—it was like the beach, where you lived in a climate of unquestioning hippie belief, pretending to trust everybody while always expecting to be sold out— but he didn
’
t have to enjoy that either, especially.
Curly
’s
had once been a crossroads saloon, and reminded Doc of Knucklehead Jack
’
s back in L.A., except for the slot machines in every
plausible piece of floor space. The band was playing covers of old Ernest
Tubb, Jim Reeves, and Webb Pierce tunes, so Doc guessed Puck and Einar might not be in tonight.
Trillium had a sort of feverish look. Doc was starting to think there was some strange vibe about her, some tattoo reading Come On In, Darlin
’
, invisible to all but the larger, more brutal types of individual. She may
’ve
been aware of this herself, while at the same time denying it. Howsoever, over strolled this towering party in a black cowboy hat who without so much as a nod to Doc took Trillium by the hair and one bare thigh, lifted her courteously enough off the barstool and began
Texas-two-stepping her away. You would
’ve
thought at least she
’
d scream
in protest. But she only managed to whisper to Doc on the way past,
“
I
’
ll
see what I can find out.
”
Doc wasn
’
t sure but thought she was already smiling.
“
You betcha,
”
he muttered, shaking his head slowly at the longneck in front of him and wondering how John Garfield would
’ve
dealt with the situation.
“
You mustn
’
t judge Osgood too harshly,
”
advised a voice to which Time, if it had not exactly been kind, had at least contributed some tex
ture.
“
The man is a natural-born pussy hound, and there ain
’
t a woman breathing between here and Lake Mead don
’
t know that by now.
”
“
Thanks, that
’
s good to hear.
”
Doc looked over to find an elfin geezer in a hat even bigger than Osgood
’
s, waggling an empty beer bottle.
“
Sure
thing.
”
Doc went to signal the barkeep, who, blessed with extrasensory
gifts, had already placed two more bottles on the bar.
“
All I came in for
tonight,
”
Doc pretended to sigh,
“
really, was to see this fella owes me
some money. The ol
’
lady there thought I was invitin her out for a night on the town. Meantime there
’
s the rent coming due and so forth.
”
“
Damn,
”
said the oldster, introducing himself as Ev,
“
time was a man
’
d
sooner dry up and blow away than renege on his debts. There
’
s a lot of
deadbeats come in this place, maybe I even know the one you want.
”
“
Somebody said he
’
s a semiregular here. Puck Beaverton?
”
A mirthless cackle which went on longer than Doc felt it should have.
“
Good luck with the landlord, young fella! that crazy Puck owes every
body in town and never paid a cent back that I ever heard of.
”
“
Where
’
s he work? Maybe I should go there and visit him.
”
“
Puck
’
s basically a slot hustler, him and his partner, this is the impres
sion I get, though it ain
’
t like we
’
re none of us real ace buddies. The little
one, Einar, has these hypersensitive hands you find in rare cases that can
feel through the lever, feel the exact point where each of them reels lets
go one by one, he can fine-tune the amount of spin onto each reel, get
whichever symbol he wants to stop exactly at the payline. I seen him do
it. Classy work.
”
“
What about Puck?
”
“
Sooner or later, the house security gets on to Einar, so there
’
s no
more point him trying to collect his winnings. Puck
’
s job is to wait
nearby, playing some nickel machine, till Einar hits on his—then Einar
disappears while Puck steps over and claims the jackpot.
”
“
But then pretty soon they must get on to Puck.
”
“
Right. Which is why they both long ago got eighty-sixed from the
Downtown and Strip casinos, so if you
’
re lookin to find Puck, you
’
ll want to check some local rooms, like out along Boulder Highway. The Nine of Diamonds comes to mind.
”
Trillium came back with a few buttons loose, an unidentified wet patch on her little skirt, and a lack of focus to her gaze. Osgood was out on the floor now with a blonde in Levi
’
s and a cowgirl hat, and a live band was now playing
“
Wabash Cannonball
”
with psychedelic steel-guitar licks now and then.
“
Having a good time, Honeybunch?
”
Doc inquired as cheerfully as possible.
“
Yes and no,
”
in a chastened voice which despite himself he found erotic.
“
Buy me a beer?
”
She drank in silence till Doc said,
“
Well! and what
’
s
’
at there Osgood got to say for himself tonight?
”
“
I feel kind of stupid, Doc. I should never have brought Puck
’
s name up.
”
“
He owes Osgood money, too, I
’
ll bet.
”
“
Yes, and now Osgood is all upset. He
’
s not really as insensitive as he
looks.
”
“
He didn
’
t happen to share any thoughts on Puck
’
s whereabouts?
”
“
North Las Vegas. That
’
s as close as he got. I don
’
t think he knows the address, or he would have gone there by now.
”
“
And that would have made the papers.
”
On the way out, they were accosted by Ev.
“
Leavin so early? Merle usually comes in and does a set around midnight when he
’
s in town.
”
“
Merle Haggard
’
s in town?
”
“
No, but that
’
s no reason to leave.
”
Doc blinked a couple of times, bought the old-timer a Ramos gin fizz, and left anyway.
Out in the parking lot, Doc noticed a Cadillac of a certain length whose arrangement of dings seemed familiar.
“
Hey Doc! I thought that was you.
”
“
Is this another of them strange and weird coincidences, Tito, or do I have to really start getting paranoid?
”
“
I told you we were gonna be in Vegas. Inez is off at a show, and I
’
m
picking up some change. You should see the way some of these guys tip, I
already made more on my vacation here than a whole year back in L.A.
”
“
And no, uh
”
—Doc made dice-rattling motions—
”
like under the spell of Vegas or nothin.
”
“
Some spell. Look at this place. How real can any of this be? how can
you take it seriously?
”
“
You
’
re a fuckin gambling addict,
”
announced an enormous voice
from somewhere inside the limo,
“
you
can’t
take it any other way.
”
“
My brother-in-law Adolfo,
”
Tito frowning.
“
Can
’
t shake him. Ain
’
t a
buck comes in he don
’
t snatch and grab it before I can.
”
“
It
’
s in escrow,
”
explained Adolfo, who it turned out had been com
missioned by Inez to ride along in the limo and keep Tito out of trouble.
“
Lowlife Escrow Services Inc.,
”
Tito muttered.