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I ran back to the storeroom。 I saw a pile of flattened cartons five feet high。
Johnnie Black and Hennessy XO。 Bonded bourbon； Ballantine's and Bacardi。
Stacked on a shelf。
A box of rubbers and a six…pack of Brew 102。
The back door opened。 Danny Getchell walked in。
The 〃Hush…Hush〃 guy。
Who：
Called me a 〃pretty…boy pantywaist〃 and a 〃pusillanimous punk。〃
Who：
Called my mom a 〃maladroit madonna〃 and my pop the 〃punk's paterfamilias。〃
I saw Danny。 Danny saw me。 He grabbed the rubbers and ran。 He cut through the parking lot and jumped into a blue Merc coupe。 I chased him。 He gunned the engine。 He yelled； 〃mie castrato Contino can't run for shit！〃
I ran harder。 I gained ground。 Danny put the car in gear and goosed it out of reach。
He yelled； 〃Lefty loser less than lethal at Legion loyaltyfest！〃
I ran harder。 I gained ground。 Danny goosed the car out of reach。
He yelled； 〃Ballsy bandit burgles boffo batch of brand…name booze！ Less…than…lethal loser left in lurch！〃
I ran harder。 I gained ground。 I hooked around to the front of the hall and hauled ass。
Danny goosed the car out of reach。 I slipped on a pile of my dad's cold cuts。 I hit the street ass…over…elbows and ate hot exhaust fumes。
2
Howard refused to front me the coin for a room。 I moved into my dad's bomb shelter。
I treated my elbows and knees。 I climbed into a bongo shirt and peggers。 I called Linda Sidwell's house and left a message with her mom。
Tell Linda to pack for ground zero。 Make an atom…bomb sound。 Tell her we'll head for Hiroshima and level the town with our love。
I was desperate。 I was walking the lonely streets of Shit City。 The bad guys dug me。 The good guys feared me。 The lung gig was my wele…home highlight。 Howard said we could sell the lung…ward kids accordion lessons and spring my ax from the hock shop。 My eback would boom from there。
I didn't buy it。 I felt one of my Patented Post…Passive Rages poised to pop。 I lashed out once in a billion blue moons。 I imploded all my impacted shit inward and outward and took it out on inanimate objects。
The bomb shelter smelled like a catbox。 I taped some nudie pix to the ceiling above my cot and stretched out to slam the ham。
I noticed two envelopes on the nightstand。 My mom must have brought them in。 They were perfume dipped and pale blue linen。
I picked them up。 I sniffed them。 I saw my name and address。 The back flaps were stained at the edge。 Prison mail was steamed open； read； and resealed。 This looked like the same thing。
The postmarks read 2/18 and 2/20/54。 The return…address stickers read：
Vivian Woodard； 348 South Muirfield Road； Los Angeles； 4； California。
〃Woodard〃as in 〃L。 Trent。〃 Swank Hancock Park。
I opened the envelopes。 I read the letters inside。 Passionate passages pounced on me。
〃Your art is dubious and derivative； but you play with an astounding sensual conviction。〃 〃My husband admires your struggle and your blunt and wrenching admissions of your fear； and is concurrently vexed by your power over me。〃 〃You cannot be socially enlightened without acknowledging Dick Contino as a symbol of candor and transcendent vulnerability。〃 〃I want you inside me。 I want to swing off the axis where our loins meet in wetness and tumescence。〃 〃Your music is my anthem。 Your seed is the hot ink that courses through my veins and my pen as I write these words。〃
〃Oooooooooh〃； Daddy…o！！！！！
I read the letters four times。 I circled the sex stuff。 I taped the letters to the ceiling above my cot and formed an erotic collage。
Somebody banged on my door。 My mom yelled； 〃Dick！ Oscar's on the phone！〃
Oscar Levant said； 〃You're a schmuck。 You're also a schmendrick； a schlemiel； and a schlemazel。〃
Oscar was pissed。 Freddy Otash cut down his dope dose。 Oscar said Freddy extorted the shit out of 〃schvartze〃 jazz musicians。 Freddy didn't want Oscar to overdose and die。 〃Hush…Hush〃 couldn't fly without his sinful and sincere sinuendo。
I tilted my chair back。 I scoped out the nut ward。 Oscar tilted his chair back and tracked my eyes。
The rec room was chock…full of nuts。 An orderly was marching an old man around。 The old man was talking non…stop and drooling into a cup。
Oscar said； 〃Pops is a Wall Street trader。 He recites nursery rhymes； with some insider stock tips laced into the flow。 The orderly is Freddy O's watchdog。 He keeps an eye on me； pumps the old guy for stock tips； and feeds them to Freddy。〃
Gail Russell and Barbara Payton were playing dominoes。 Barbara ran her right foot up Gail's leg sapphically slooooow。 Gail swatted it away。
Oscar said； 〃They're both dipsos。 The boss at Paramount told them to dry out or else。 Babs always goes lez in stir。 Gail's pining for Rock Hudson。 Rock's playing skin…flute on a bartender at Don the Beachber's。 The bartender snorts Big 'H' and moonlights at an all…male cathouse。〃
A geek was twisting his hair in knots and doodling on a scratch pad。 A dozen nuts stood around and watched him draw。
Oscar said； 〃He's an animator for 〃The Webster Webfoot Show〃。 He makes animated smut flicks on the side and sells them down in Tj。 He thinks he's Webster Webfoot。 His wife shows up once a week and throws popcorn at him。〃
I laughed。 The orderly noticed me and sized me up。 Oscar lit a cigarette and blew smoke in my face。
I said； 〃You want something。 You're playing some kind of angle here。〃
Oscar blew concentric smoke rings。 〃I want to contemporize you。 I want to revitalize your career and end your days as a schmuck； a schmendrick； a schlemiel； and a schiemazel。〃
〃What's in it for you？〃
〃You check me out on a pass； right this goddamn instant。 You take me down to Darktown and get me what I need to survive。〃
He was headed for Shake City。 He sucked that cigarette down to a stub in sixteen seconds。
He started twitching。 He started shaking。 His eyes started begging me。
I said； 〃Let's go。〃
We drove south and smoked Linda's reefer。 Life lapsed into slow motion。 We were bebop bwanas on the Dark Continent。 My dad's '50 Ford was a barge on the River Styx。
Dig the jazz clubs！ Dig that drive…in mosque！ Dig the unkinkyour…hair parlors and the chopped…and…channeled chariots in cool coon maroon！
We cruised Central Avenue。 A voodoo moon beamed down and lit the way。 Oscar found Rachmaninoff on the radio。 We rolled our windows down and shared him with our wild…ass world。
The weed unkinked Oscar。 He stopped twitching and abusing me。 I steered the barge with one finger。 Water lapped under my feet。
Oscar said； 〃The Pharaoh Club。 They've got a steam room； and all the hip junkies sweat themselves out there before their Nalline tests。 Freddy 0 jacks them up and steals their stuff。〃
My life lapsed out of slow motion。 Oscar wrecked my reverie。 He sounded like a 45 single spun at 78。
I spoke 〃slooow〃 and easy。 〃Freddy O is a cop。 He can flash his badge and pull that kind of thing off。〃
Oscar lit a cigarette and sucked it down to a cinder in one drag。 He flicked the butt out the window and flashed two little gold stars。
Toy badges。
〃Junior Deputy〃 at the bottom。 〃SheriffJohn's Lunch Br