Dignity - a novel - 8. Chapter 8: "Cheeez!"

Chapter 8: "Cheeez!"

We're having lunch now, and these kids are really cool.

We went back to CityWalk, and when I asked which place is good and local, they shouted as a chorus: "Pink's!"

Turns out that's a hot dog place, so I'm looking down on my Pink's Chili Dog with Sauerkraut, and my Pink's Polish Dog with Cheez whiz, and wondering which one I'll 'do' first.

Instead, I pick at my fries.

I get a close look at them. The cuteness of Cordell is undeniable. Her hair is halfway between red and blond, and she has faint freckles under her blue eyes, and darker ones that pepper the ridge of her nose. These become more noticeable when she smiles, cuz I guess, those same grinning muscles wrinkle her nose too.

"Phew! – these are great-looking Dogs!"

The others chuckle, and I pick up the chili one.

I stall before eating by asking, "So, how old are you guys?"

Cordell's nose freckles rise up in good humor. She says, "Nineteen." And the others nod, except for Cliff.

"Twenty," he says, but his voice is muffled because his mouth is full of half-mashed onion rings.

"Cool," I say.

Cliff looks on the surface like he'd be paired with David's girl, because they are both fair skinned and blue-eyed, although Cliff's crew cut shows that he is a real dirty-blond without any red in it. His face is a little long, just like the lanky frame of his body. His lips are kinda thin, and although he doesn't use them to smile very much, you can tell he's a good guy – cuz his eyes basically smile all the time.

"How old are you?" David asks.

"Eighteen."

"You go to school?"

I almost say 'yes,' then I realize he does not mean high school, but college. And besides, I realize with some clarity, I don’t even go there anymore.

"Nope," I tell them confidently. "You guys?"

"We share a place, cuz we all go to UCLA – and Cliff's uncle owns the building, even though parking at school can be a bit of a hassle."

David has dark hair, which is close-cropped all over his head in an even length. His ears are prominent because of it, but they are not big – or elephant ears, or anything – they just are perfect and in view all the time. His whole face is round and very, very kind looking. I imagine that his mom or grand moms love to latch onto those cute cheeks, and smooggle, smooggle, smooggle; LOL – I'd love to see his big Bambi-browns at such a moment!

"That's cool," I say. "Where? In L.A.?"

Lawson grins and leans across the table to me. "In West Hollywood, ever hear of it?"

Lawson is like the type of girl you sometimes see who reminds you instantly of older ladies. You know she's young, but there is a centeredness and, IDK, maybe a 'repose' that makes you think she's lived longer than her years. Her skin is spot-free, and like porcelain, and she likes to wear her brunette hair straight and bobbed. The two front sides swoop down to cup her cheeks and almost link up under her pretty chin. She has soulful eyes the color of deep emerald.

"Um – yeah, I've heard of West Hollywood."

"That's what David meant about parking," informs Lawson. "Living far from school can be a hassle, but the subway has a shuttle from the station right to the campus, so it usually works out that we don’t have to drive."

"Yeah," chips in Cliff. "My uncle gives us a good deal on the rent, as long as we unofficially keep an eye on 'suspicious activity.'"

By the way David cracks up at that statement, I bet the four of them are about the wildest bunch in the building.

I say enthusiastically, "West Hollywood, that's like a cool neighborhood, right?"

"Cool, if you don’t mind limp wrists," Cliff says while chewing.

"What?"

David puts down his dog, picks up his napkin, and explains, "It's the Gay part of town – like the Village in New York, or The Castro in San Fran – it's been that way for decades."

"And, " Cordell adds with a bit of sarcasm. "Don’t let Cliff make you think he's anti-gay or anything. His uncle Joe and his husband live right below us, and we're all family. Right?" she teases Cliff.

He just grins though his chewed up chilidog. "YUP!"

"Ah, that's cool." I smile, and have a feeling the girls pick up the vibe I've laid down, LOL.

I hoist up my dog with the kraut, and start in on it from one end. It is squishy – meaty and 'pink-tasting,' with a sharp tang of acid from the mustard and sauerkraut. Let the adults worry about 'what's in it,' all I know is it's yummy, and the rest I don’t care about!

"So," Cordell wants to know. "If you don’t go to school, what do you do?"

I chew a moment.

"Do you sell drugs?" David asks.

I shake my head.

"Do you do drugs?" Cliff is on the edge of his seat.

"Pot," I manage to say. I hold a napkin to cover my mouth. "I like weed, occasionally."

David and Cliff exchange a quick eyebrow raise, and lean back in their seats; I guess they are relieved.

"I don’t do much of anything. In fact, nothing at all."

"That's cool." Cliff's smile – the first I've seen from him – grows as big as a saucer. He fully relaxes, and folds his arms in satisfaction.

"You know," David starts like what he's about to say is confidential. "We intend to close the park tonight. You know, be the last ones outta here – they will have to get out the broom to sweep us towards that last open exit."

"Aw, man! That was my idea. I wanna squeeze every last dime out of that entrance fee."

Lawson announces matter-of-fact: "It's settled then. The five of us will close up the joint."

She raises her Mushroom Swiss Dog, and we all follow suit. The uneaten ends of our dogs touch and offer a toast right above the center of the table.

˚˚˚˚˚

Now it's the hottest part of the afternoon, around 3:30, and I'm sweating into my jeans and tee.

"Hey," David calls from about 20 feet ahead of the rest of us. "The line for Jurassic Park's not too bad!"

We all jog up and join him in line. It feels good to be out of the sun, and in the shade of the queue area.

This attraction looks cool. Everything is thatch-roofed and tropical looking. There are broken trucks and stuff around the winding path of the queue.

Now we're up to the point where the line opens onto the broad platform where you wait to board.

"We want the front!" Cliff informs the attendant, and she waves us on.

Cliff runs and grabs the leading car position. When the rest of us get there, David says, "Sean, you get in the middle."

"But," I stammer. "Can we all go together?"

The four chuckle, and Cordell tells me, "Just wait. You'll see."

And sure enough, as the coaster car comes our way, I count five seats across the front. That's awesome!

We get on. We are locked in, and I glance at Cordell on my left, then at Lawson on my right. I wanna grab their hands, but I know they'll get the wrong idea; I just wanna feel them squeeze as we roller-dip, and then experience the joy of tossing them above our heads as we free-fall. That's what I do with Dawn when we go to Six Flags. Both girls smile at me.

We take off!

Up an incline, then down, and in and out of a building with T-Rex jaws, and plenty of echoey screams – so many screams!

At the end, we go up another incline in the dark, then doors open, flooding us with sunlight, and the coaster falls. It turns out to be a flume ride, and we crash into water, which drenches us head to toe.

Now, we're outside the discharge area, which is around the side from the entrance.

"Let's go again!" I yell.

I'm surprised, but the rest say in unison, "OK!"

We run as fast as we can for the back of the line.

˚˚˚˚˚

As it starts to get dark, we go get some food, and Cordell helps me pick out a black jacket with leather sleeves. It has a globe and a big Universal Studios logo on the back. Oh well, there goes the cash I owe Lyle. I'll make it up to him, somehow.

We have dinner by going back in the park and walking around with huge slices of pizza. These are on greasy paper that barely even attempts to keep our hands clean, but who cares? As long as I don’t get tomato sauce on my Underdog t-shirt, I'm cool with it.

We stop by one area with a fountain and watch two mascots in Transformers costumes pretend to fight for the small kids. These little ones are gathered in a clot in front of their vigilant mothers, and loudly root for the 'good one.'

Cliff, on the other hand, runs up and makes a play headlock on the yellow robot, so the bad one can regroup. The kids go wild with booing.

"Take my pic; take my pic," he begs his girlfriend, and she digs in her purse for his phone. I whip out mine out and take it for him.

"Thanks, dude!" he sings out like he's the happiest man in the universe.

"Wait," I know I sound a little whiny. "But, I want one with all of us."

So the girls dig out phones, and the three of us ask nearby moms to snap, only we move away from the robots, cuz there are other mascots right there too.

The girls and me run over to the boys, and the five of us huddle around the sides of a cute little Minion in costume; you know, from that kids' movie, Despicable Me. Our pizza slices are held in front of the little yellow guy with his geeky goggles, as if we were all gonna feed him, maybe forcibly, LOL.

"Cheeez!" the nice moms call out, and we ham it up with big grins. "Click; Snap; Kla-dink;" three pix taken. Yey!

˚˚˚˚˚

The later and later it gets, the more I dread the moment it will all come to an end. And here it is – the loud speakers screech on with some sappy-sad music: "The park will be closing in 20 minutes. Please make your way to the exit. Thank you for visiting Universal Studios, Hollywood!"

As I drag my feet, and idly chat with my weary comrades – we veterans of the long amusement park day just done, LOL – I begin to dread the endless subway ride back to the beach. In fact, it bums me out.

"I'm beat," I announce generally.

"Me too!" the girls say.

"Where are you heading now?" Cliff is back to leaning on Lawson, and making her stagger, but she loves it, I can tell.

"Dunno," I shrug.

David seems concerned. "Where you staying?"

"Nowhere, really. I just got in town yesterday, and I slept under the Santa Monica pier last night."

"What..?" Cordell is amazed

"Phew! – " I reassure her. "It’s not that bad."

"Wait up a sec." David stops walking and gestures for his posse to gather around. It's clear this is a 'private' moment.

I put my hands in my pockets – my new jacket pockets! – and kick some gravel around.

"Ok, kid," David comes up to me, and drapes his arm over my back to grip my far shoulder. "You're in luck. We’ve got a sofa with your name on it. Ok?"

What can I do but smile?

"Yep," I say, and David pushes my head aside in friendly way.

"You have your stuff with you?" Cliff asks.

"Yes, I do. In a locker out front."

"So what are we waiting for?" Lawson acts like everything is settled, and, LOL, I guess it is.

"Nothing," I chime in. "Let's go!"

˚˚˚˚˚

The girls and me ride in the backseat of Cliff's car like we were back on the flume ride. I feel thrilled, but happy.

Streetlights move above my head, as I crane my neck back to look out the rear window. Between their temporary flashes of muted brightness, I catch glimpses of stars. I think I'm gonna sleep really well tonight.

˚˚˚˚˚

Their place is a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a 1960's building.

They don’t have much furniture, or décor, so in other words, it looks like college kids live here, LOL.

I'm in the bathroom, and turning on the shower. I strip down, and step in.

The warm water cascades down me, and as I slick back my hair, my eyes close and see more stars.

I don’t think before this moment I have ever really appreciated just how joyful – how soaked with the pleasures of life – it is to take a simple shower like this. There is some form of decency in this, as if every human deserves this chance to get clean again.

I spot some shampoo, and lather up. Oh it feels so good! I scrub, and my blue-green hair seems to want to shout for joy.

I grab a bar of Ivory soap, and work the newly made foam from my hands all over my chest, arms, legs and junk.

'Oh, yes,' I think as I scrub every nook and cranny, 'I'll sleep like a fuking baby tonight.'

˚˚˚˚˚

In their living room, I hang out with them in a fresh t-shirt and the big and roomy boxers I like to sleep in.

I find an outlet and charge my phone.

Cliff gets a little sandwich baggie from between the cushions of the couch, and bounces it before my face. It has some light-blue tablets in it.

"You do e?" he asks.

"Nah. I'm good."

"Suit yourself."

Cliff hands them out like candy to the rest, and all take them with sips of their pop. And, apparently, without much thought either.

We all recline, the girls in their boys' arms, and watch TV. I begin to drift off, but perk up once the couples start to spoon.

I don’t mind, it's kinda hot to see David in action, but I hope they get the idea that, although this may be their sofa, for right now it's my bed, and I'd like to hit it.

However, soon Cordell sees me casting some sleepy looks over her way, and stands up.

"Come on, Dave. Sean needs his sleep."

She pulls him up and they trot off.

"Night kid," David says to me with raised eyebrows.

I nod.

Then Cliff pulls Lawson so she is sitting on his lap. He grabs her legs near the butt, and in a neat move, stands while they are still locking lips.

As they move towards the corridor with the bedrooms and bathroom, Lawson raises her hand to me and waves.

I hear a muffled sound from their joined mouths. It sounds something like "Grrrrooooo naiiiiiiiiith."

"Sweet dreams," I call after them.

Then, after they have gone, and I heard their door close, I whisper quietly to myself, "Yes, good night, kid."

˚˚˚˚˚

I have switched off the lights, and plopped into 'bed.'

My phone is fully charged, and I brought it with me.

Now I can lay back on the sofa, pull up the blanket, and hold the lighted screen up to my eyes.

Dawn has texted me:

Dweeb! Yu look stupid in those pix, cant you even smile?

There was a second one:

Yu ok? I dont want yu sleeping on the beach again

I type back to her:

Crashin with some kool kids 2night. A nice warm sofa. One boy is so cute, I hope I c him in my dreams

I hit 'send,' then think I need to say some more. So I type out:

Thx. I would not b here w/o U. 143, all the way – ok?

[Thanks. I would not be here without you. I love you, all the way – ok?]

Now I can set the phone down, and now I can roll over, close my eyes, and enjoy the searing-hot flashes of T-rex, Maggie Simpson, the Transformers mascots, and of five hotdogs cheering over the center of a communal table.

No bad dreams tonight, no way.