Jackie's Week (21 page)

"Do you understand?" he raged.

She made it to the other side. "Yes, Uncle,"
she said. "I understand."

"Is this what you want? To have the blood of
your enemies crushed from their bodies and flow like wine?"

Jackie shook like a leaf. She felt the force
of death whirling towards her. With a startling clarity, she
realized it was hers to command.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes," she whispered. "It’s what I want. I
want the blood of my enemies to run like wine. I don’t care if it
sends me to hell. Help me, Uncle. Help me."

He pressed his lips to her scar and released
his grip from her shoulders. The power of death vibrated palpably
in the air between them. She understood now who he really was. His
true name could not be spoken, not by anyone. He placed his glass
of wine in her hand. At his nod, she swallowed the husky, acidic
liquid.

"All of it," he said.

She forced it down, licking the final drops
from her lips.

"Jackie, I will make you the wine," he said.
He handed her a card. On the card, scribbled in a thick #2 pencil,
was a phone number. "You may call me at any time of day or night,"
he said. "And by the way, if you’re having trouble with your
priest, I can talk to the Archbishop for you. He’s a very
understanding man and knows how to cut through all that Vatican red
tape. He will give you the absolution you seek. And perhaps the
marriage can take place sooner than you think. When it does, I hope
Mama and I will be honored with an invitation."

"Yes," she said. "I would like some help on
that." She turned and walked away, feeling her soul expanding,
marveling at the size and space of it. She was careful to take an
extra firm grip on the leash before guiding Heinz to the elevator
and returning once again to the unwieldy fortunes of the gathering
night.

Chapter 33

"Johnson," he answered, as always, on the
first ring, as though his Blackberry were somehow coupled directly
to his head.

"It’s me." Jackie said.

"Hi, me," he answered.

"I can barely hear you. We’ve got a lot of
static. I guess you aren’t at my house yet. Did you decide not to
move in to my place after all?"

"I’m moving in later tonight," he said. "I’ve
got the van loaded."

"That’s a relief," she said. "Where are you
now?"

"I’m just up the street from your place," he
said. "The Lamplighter."

"I know it," Jackie said. "It’s a cop bar.
Sepulveda and Vose Street, right?"

"Right," he said.

"I went in there one time by accident,"
Jackie said. "Right after my dad died. I stopped in for a drink
after the funeral. I didn’t even know what a cop bar was. The only
thing I remember is, every guy in the place bought me a drink."

"They’re buying me the drinks tonight," he
said. "A couple of the guys invited me to celebrate my engagement.
How about you? Are you still at your Industry party? I hope you
didn’t catch any rare diseases."

"I did eat some raw meat and drink some
homemade wine," she said. "But I left the party 20 minutes ago. I’m
calling from the limo. We’re stuck in traffic on the Strip. They’ve
got the new Jonas Brothers billboard up, the kind where their heads
poke up above the frame, but the sign people blew it. They all have
pigeons on their heads."

"Being famous must be hell," Johnson
said.

"Johnson, I’m sorry for your loss. Father
Larry said Jack Visio was a good man."

"Thank you, Jackie."

The limo edged its way eastward on Sunset
Boulevard, traversing the toxic wasteland of lust and lunacy known
as The Strip, a level-5 containment-zone of rock palaces, booze
joints, strip clubs, restored rococo apartment buildings, luxury
car washes, hookers, pimps, junkies, tourists, luxury hotels, movie
star bars, restaurants shaped like hot dogs, $300,000 Bentleys and
upscale boutiques.

The whole scene seemed bound together in a
cyber-tribal funk, with everybody who hung out there of one mind in
the belief that this irresponsible utopia, like the fat, sticky
buds of grass they all smoked, would somehow blossom skyward from
its pit of urban slime into the ether, to evolve and grow to
fruition.

"How’s Heinz?" Johnson said.

"Heinz is my friend," Jackie said. "I’m
starting to appreciate that."

"Jackie," he said, "they kicked Viktor Bout
loose a few minutes ago. His fancy pants lawyer had a connection
with the judge. They got the driver's licence suppressed."

"Johnson," she said. "Do me a favor. Don’t
ever mention Bout to me again."

"You got it," he said.

"I need you," she said.

"It’s mutual," he said. "I was kind of
excited about the church wedding, but now I’m not. Father Larry
said to forget it. There’s always Las Vegas."

"No, she said. "I made a connection at the
party. The Archbishop himself is going to cut through the red tape.
We’ll probably get married next week."

"Really."

"Really. But I’ve just done something really
stupid," she said, "I can’t tell you what it is. Let’s just call it
an unholy communion. I’m beyond scared and afraid. Because of what
I just did, I now have a secret I’ll have to carry with me to my
grave. And according to Father Larry, I’ll also probably go to
hell, unless an Archbishop trumps a simple priest."

"We’ve all got secrets," he said. "Myself
most of all. It’s okay to have a dark secret or two."

"I need you, Johnson," she said. "I’m tired
of maintaining this distance between us. All my life, I’ve
maintained a middle ground. I’m tired of it. I’m ready to toss the
boundaries."

"Me too."

"Will you meet me at the house?" she said.
"I’m ready to unlock the door to the cage. Although I should tell
you, Father Larry strictly forbids what I’ve got planned. But I’ve
got to find out if I can still be a woman with a man. I need to use
you, Johnson. If what I have planned doesn’t give us both a heart
attack, maybe we can go to confession afterwards."

"I’ll be there for you, Jackie," he said.

"I’ll be about an hour," she said. "I have to
see my sister about something first and then I’ll be over."

"Jackie?" he said.

"Yes?"

"Do I have to say it?" he said. "The words, I
mean."

"No," she said. "Not tonight. Don’t say them
tonight. You can say them after we get married, if you want to. But
tonight, we’re not going to say anything. Tonight, we’re just going
to ride the wave."

Chapter 34

The limo slid to a stop in front of Spring
Oak Drive. The red MG sat in its usual spot in the driveway, the
cooling metal ticking under the hood, the tacky blue tarp pulled
half-heartedly over the cockpit. The night was warmer than the
night before. There was no fog, but the hiss of sprinklers up and
down the street provided sufficient mist to keep the magic
going.

Jackie dismissed the driver and traipsed
across the wet lawn to the back gate, letting Heinz into the
backyard before slipping off the wet sandals and entering the
house. She trailed the smell of popcorn down the hall to the movie
room. It was a familiar tableau: Donna, on the couch, all alone
with the bowl in her lap, a champagne flute in hand. On the screen,
the old MGM Classic, Unfaithfully Yours.

Donna, upon seeing her big sister standing in
the doorway, grabbed the remote and hit the freeze-frame, catching
Rex Harrison’s surprise—looking impossibly young in a polka dot
robe—at being caught from behind in Linda Darnell’s bear hug, her
brilliant smile offsetting an unspeakably bad perm.

"It’s been awhile since we’ve watched it,"
she said. "Grab a drink and take a load off your dogs. By the way,
the short dress looks terrific with the short hair. Nobody can say
the women in this family don’t have legs."

Jackie walked over to the sidebar and filled
a shot glass with vodka, downing the liquid in one swallow before
pouring another. She picked up the remote and turned off the tube.
The silence was louder than the movie had been.

"Unfaithfully Yours," Jackie said. "How
appropriate. Rex Harrison making a fool of himself, imagining Linda
Darnell having an affair with his male secretary. That almost
sounds like your life story, Donna. Except in your story,
Bienenfeld has been having an affair for the past five years and
you’ve done nothing about it."

Donna grabbed her flute and took a long,
shaky sip. "What can I do? You’ve met Marsha. I can’t compete with
that."

"We live in a smart universe," Jackie said.
"Some people believe that everything in the universe has some kind
of intelligence, even rocks. Somehow you seemed to have missed
out."

Jackie refilled Donna’s glass to the
brim.

"Drink up, honey," Jackie said. "You’ll need
it. Because your big sister is back. And she’s angry."

Donna gulped her champagne.

"What I can’t understand," Jackie said, "is
how in this world, in a universe so smart even a rock can think for
itself, you could be so dumb as to let Bienenfeld walk all over
you!" This remark, cutting the cord between them, let fall to the
earth the dust of their sisterly bonds. The silence was profound;
not a single rock anywhere said a thing.

"Do you love him?" Jackie said. "Donna, do
you still love Bienenfeld?"

"This is going to sound horrible," Donna
said. "I hate his guts, but I still love him. I shouldn’t. The day
I found out about Marsha it was like somebody just reached inside
me and ripped my heart out. So maybe it’s not love; maybe I hate
him so much, it just seems like love. But as long as he has Marsha,
I will never truly have him."

"You should leave him," Jackie said. "He’s
drained the life out of you. You're waiting on Bienenfeld just like
I waited on Viktor Bout. I’ll help you move out. You can move in
with me. You can find somebody else. It’s not too late."

"I’m afraid of what he might do if I try to
leave," Donna said.

"He’s not going to do jack," Jackie said.

"Jackie," Donna said. "I’ve needed my big
sister so much these last five years. But you disappeared on me.
All these months, when I was watching you die? I was dying, too. I
needed you."

"I’m back," Jackie said. "It’s going to be
okay. A little ugly from time to time, but okay."

"I can’t leave Bienenfeld," Donna said.

"I know you can’t. But if you stay, things
have to change."

They cried together, a multitude of tissues
failing to staunch the waters flowing freely from the fountain of
reborn souls.

"Underneath that tan and those great legs,
you’re as burned out as I am," Jackie said. "But brace yourself.
From now on, it is going to be different."

"What is, Jackie?"

"We’re getting out of the victim business,
that’s what," Jackie said. "You saved me and now I’m going to save
you." She stood up and raised her glass. "Here’s looking at you,
kid," she said. She left the room and started down the hall. As she
opened the front door and stepped onto the porch, she could hear
the loud wailing cry from the den, and knew for certain no rock
would be forced to break its code of silence tonight.

Chapter 35

Jackie arrived in the limo back in Van Nuys
just in time to find her street bathed in an eerie glow from the
flames which engulfed her home. Johnson’s van pulled in behind her
about a hundred feet from the scene.

The shock hit her system and she felt as
though in a dream, observing the surreal cast of fire trucks,
police cars and assorted mask-wearing, helmeted personnel working
together in a well-rehearsed ballet. Groups of neighbors stood on
lawns, many with video cameras, talking and watching. The news van
from Channel 5 was setting up at the edge of the barricade. The
fire was really ripping the place, putting on a good show for the
folks. Johnson waved to her, motioned for her to wait one and
walked over to the other cops.

She joined a group on the corner and watched
in stupefaction as the windows in the gables blew, one by one. When
the windows expanded in the heat and shattered, the oxygen rushed
in, and the rooms literally exploded. There were four teams manning
hose lines, but three of them were aimed at the adjacent houses in
an effort to contain the blaze to the single residence. They were
letting her home burn to the ground to concentrate their resources
on saving the others.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Johnson,
with his cop face on, looking official. "Obviously Bout was here.
The fucker's only been out a few hours. It’s like a Korean liquor
store in Watts after the Rodney King verdict," he said.

"Can you get us closer?" she said.

"Watch your step," he said.

He led her through the barricades to the edge
of the driveway.

"This wasn’t a regular house fire," Johnson
said. "When the rescue team tried to go in, they found Bout had
tacked balloons full of gasoline to all your ceilings. When the
heat melts the balloons, they pop and spray the gas everywhere. The
firefighters can’t operate inside under those conditions. The
discovery of the balloons terminated further efforts to save your
house."

Jackie saw a strange object lying almost
hidden behind the ancient walnut tree at the edge of the yard, the
form of the object size and shape of a large roast pig, the kind of
thing that should have been laid out on palm fronds at a luau. The
grisly thing was unattended and apparently unnoticed in all the
excitement.

"Johnson," she said. "What’s that? It looks
like a dog or something."

"Oh no," he said. "Wait here. I don't think I
want you to see that."

She broke free and ran to the spot and
realized immediately it was a human body. A lot of it was missing.
The meat from the legs, in particular was off the bone. The face,
its jaw wide open, was wrapped in skin the texture of tight, burnt
leather.