Smoke Ch. 02

Copyright @

All rights reserved, 2011

Thanks to Doug, Elliot, Jimmy and Pepper...

Chapter 2: California Dreaming

"C'mon, we're leaving. You, too, Mrs. Shocley."

As they walked outside, Cindy saw Jeff and moved behind Greg. She preferred Greg to the policeman she had been having sex with each Friday. 'Oh God,' she thought, 'I don't want him to see me. Jeff may have the uniform but Greg knew how to use his gun.'

"You two get into my car over there and I'll be along in a second." While the women walked over to his '50 Ford Deluxe and got in, he talked to the homicide detectives, pointing in several different directions at once. After several minutes and one of the men writing down information on a notepad, Greg got into his car and they drove away into the night.

Greg pulled up in front of the bakery and stopped the car. He nudged Cindy awake. "Hey, sleepyhead, time to wake up." She looked peaceful, not like the nervous wreck she was just last night.

'Oh, my head hurts... my back hurts... what's going on?' "Uhhhhh.... Where are we?"

"Solvang, California. 'Danish Capital of America,' or something like that. Come on, let's get some breakfast. Hey, Mrs. Shocley, we're here."

The old woman stretched out on the back seat of the dark red Ford and then slowly sat up and looked out the window. "Wow, you drove all the way to Denmark? To be or not to be... Hope you didn't get a speeding ticket."

"Ha... ha... ha, you're a funny woman, Mrs. Shocley. I'm buying, let's get breakfast. It's the least I can do, dragging you out of your home last night like that.

"Cindy, wake up," he insisted, "it's time to eat. I've been to this place before."

He got out of the car, put his .45 snuggly into his pants' belt and then his fedora onto his head. He opened the doors, bowing as the two women left their seats and stood on the sidewalk. Shocley smoothed out her dress while Cindy gave a cursory glance in the bakery window's reflection.

Looking up, they saw an incongruous Danish windmill reaching for the hazy California sky. Warm, welcoming bakery smells wafted out the open door as they walked in. Greg could feel the hunger pangs grumbling through his stomach as he looked at the different Danish and cookies in the glass cases.

"Butter cookies... I'll take two dozen, please and a couple of those prune Danish and that cherry one... ladies, what do you want?"

"Whatever you think is best, Greg, we'll sit over there." She glanced at several small tables toward the back.

"Just double up the order and an extra cherry, please."

As he was paying for the food, he looked at the two women. 'What am I going to do, now? Cindy was one thing, but taking Mrs. Shocley along was a spur of the moment thing that I'm now starting to regret. What was I going to do with the old woman, anyway? And, now I'm responsible for both of them. Damn!'

"Here, plenty of cookies and pastries for my two ladies. How are you feeling, get plenty of sleep? Sorry about the rough ride up the One Oh One... it's not like it's Los Angeles, after all."

"Well, Greg, it's all right. Do you know when we're going to go back home?" 'Not too soon, I hope. I haven't had this much fun in a long time.'

"No, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Mrs. Shocley but there wasn't much I could do when the guy came over to your house. I didn't know if he was going to break in or not." He felt guilty. He wasn't worried, at the time, whether the man was going to break in or not, just that he needed to kill him first, but he was going to kill him, first. His face turned red and he tried to hide behind his coffee cup.

"We can take a walk around this place, if you'd like. Do you want to stay here, I mean, in town or keep going?"

"Honestly," said Cindy, "I don't know where we're going and I don't think anyone knows we're here, anyway, so can we stay here, at least for a while? It's like a fairytale story."

"Sure, Cindy, we can do that. We can do that."

He left a fifty cent tip and they walked out, carrying a bag of leftover cookies. Across the street was a gift shop and he shepherded them toward it. 'Women like to shop,' he figured 'and a place like a gift shop will be just the place to kill time until lunch.'

Before noon, he had easily spent another ten dollars indulging the two women and then they found a small smorgassborg on the next street. 'If this keeps up, I'm going to have to look for a Bank of America.'

"What a feast... wow, look at that roast pork," he said, pointing out the food on the cold table. Cheeses, hams, salads and pates... "I could stay here all day and eat this stuff.

"C'mon, ladies, eat up... we've still some more shops to visit before dinnertime." Truth was, he had no idea what to do with the two women now that they were here. Well, that wasn't exactly true. 'Cindy, oh, I've plenty of ideas what to do with her but with Mrs. Shocley there, not so much.'

An hour later, even he had to admit he couldn't eat any more food, and as good as it was, it was time to go. A couple of hours walking around finally brought them to a small motel and he went in to rent two rooms.

The next morning, after another high-calorie breakfast of cookies and pastries, Greg put the car north onto US 101 and headed toward Monterey. The two-hour trip took them to San Luis Obispo, where they stopped for lunch and found another two rooms for the night at the Villa Motel on Monterey Street. This time, though, Cindy didn't even bother with the pretense of staying with Mrs. Shocley and walked right into Greg's room after they checked in.

After lunch, they drove around looking for a department store to buy some clothes. He laughed to himself, realizing his good deed was costing him even more money than he expected. 'Any night with Cindy, as wonderful as it might promise to be, is going to be very expensive.'

While the two women were trying on some clothing from racks by the wall, he went and found a pay phone.

First, call the tenant in apartment 'A'. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's me, Greg Knotts. Are the police finished with the two apartments?"

"Yes, they've boarded up both of them and put a keep out sign on the doors. They're pretty mad; they've been looking for the two of you all day."

"Thanks. Can I call you every afternoon and find out what's going on?"

"Sure, Mr. Knotts. Say, about eight o'clock would be better. Joe will have finished his dinner by then."

"OK, Mrs. Hunton, eight o'clock it is. Thanks." 'Well,' he figured, 'that took care of the apartment house.'

He called the Hermosa Beach police. "Detective Kleis, please. It's Gregory Knotts."

"Kleis, Homicide." 'Now, what?' he wondered.

"Good afternoon, Detective. It's Greg Knotts."

"Where the hell have you been, Knotts. We've been looking all over for you and that crazy broad you took off with."

"Did you lock up my apartment up?" It made no sense to tell the police what he already knew. He still didn't know who to trust, other than Cindy and Mrs. Shocley; Shocley more than Cindy, when he thought about it. After all, he did kill four men because of her and who knew, she might bolt any second.

"Yeah, it's boarded up. Where are you?"

"Safe. Listen, have you figured out who those men were?"

"You want to play it that way, Knotts? I could have an arrest warrant out on you in ten seconds."

"Look, you know and I know that I'm innocent of pretty much anything you could throw at me and it was necessary to get the two of them out of town for their own safety.

"I promise I'll call every day, about this time and talk with you. You know more of what's going on than I do."

"All right, but I'm keeping you on a short leash, Knotts, don't push it with me.

"The four stiffs were enforcers for Guido Origli, local bookie around here. Seems he's angry at you, even more than I am. I'd watch my back, if I were you."

"If he can't find me, then he can't find me. Anything else?"

"Yeah, we can't find him, either. I'll let you know. You on the level, Knotts?"

"Yeah, I am. I don't like this any more than you do... what did you want me to do, sit around with a target on my back? I had enough of that with the Japs."

"Nah, you're right, just be careful." 'Looks like Knotts is going to be a pain in the ass. Damn it!'

"OK...

"Well, that was interesting," Greg said to himself. "Now, what?" The problem was, he had no clue what to do, now, except keep hiding until the dust settled. He thought about everything and the only thing he would have changed would have been to have the police there from the start... but, he doubted they would have had people sitting there for however long it would have taken to have things come to a head.

That night, Cindy searched for a sexual release she had missed her whole married life. Her husband was an ignorant lover and after he became an abusive, impotent drunk...

There was a knock on his door. He took his gun and slid the drapes back just enough to see Cindy standing there. Keeping the light off, he opened the door enough to pull her inside. "Cindy, what are you doing outside?"

"I was afraid you were asleep. Did I wake you?" 'Fantastic! He's awake!'

"No, I was just thinking.

"What is it, Cindy?" 'This could get dicey,' he thought. He wondered what the old lady thought.

"About what?" 'God, I hope he doesn't regret taking me along.'

"Just things, that's all. Just things..."

Her hand came up to his cheek. "Let me help you with that..." she said. 'Oh, yes, now for some lovin'.'

She pushed Greg down onto the bed, unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. Within seconds, she was bent over the bed, engulfing him in her now skilled lips.

Greg had been living the life of a monk and came quickly in her mouth.

"Well," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "that is that. Now... time for some serious lovin'." 'Oh, YES!'

Greg soon remembered what he had been missing the last few years. The nightmares he had coming back from the Pacific had made any relationship impossible the first few years and even though they were now few and far in-between, he still had felt self-conscious about it.

Being with Cindy, though, he felt good. Comfortable wasn't the right word for it implied something to be taken for granted. 'A woman that would love me...'

Or, was it just a sense of gratitude? 'Why am I worrying about it now?'

While his mind was rumbling through it's own serious doubts, Cindy had none and moved above him. "Do me," she said, lowering herself onto his face. 'Yeah, let's see what you've got.'

The next morning, the old lady leaned over to Cindy and whispered into her ear. Cindy blushed and Greg gave her an inquiring glance, one eyebrow raised.

"Seems the walls were paper thin, Greg."

His coffee splattered back into his cup as he looked at the smiling grandmother sitting across the table.

"Well, I guess it's time we get going."

After they were in the car, he told them they were going to San Francisco and would stay there for a few days. He found the Bellevue just a few walking minutes from the downtown area. This time, though, Cindy didn't even bother with the pretense of staying with Mrs. Shocley and walked right into Greg's room after they checked in.

Lunch was in Little Italy with Mrs. Shocley ordering spaghetti and meatballs. While Greg laughed at her pedantic choice, he convinced Cindy to join him in some calamari, sourdough bread and lasagna.

"Squid, you say? This is good... but, squid?"

"If you like it, why not?"

"Yes, I guess you're right," Cindy said, rubbing his leg with her foot. "What do you think, Mrs. Shocley?"

"I'm sorry, dear; I wasn't paying that much attention."

"Greg says that if you like something, why not?"

"Well, dear, it would seem that you've already bought into that concept, wouldn't you say?"

For a moment, Cindy wanted to cry until she saw the laughter in the woman's eyes.

"Cindy, if you learn nothing else from what's happened the last couple of days, it's that life is too short and fragile to worry about what you could have done, as long as you're not hurting anyone, including yourself.

"What's for dessert, around here, anyways?"

"How about some gelato?"

"How did you become such an expert on Italian cooking?"

"During the war, I was friends with a guy who's mother was Italian and he took me home with him, you know, after and I never had so much food to eat in my life."

"Did you meet any Italian girls?" Cindy playfully asked.

He thought back to Ann Marie, a beautiful girl. He instantly fell in love with her, infatuated with everything about her and courted her with all his being. Unfortunately, the local nuns had already filled her head with tales of angels and heaven and he never had a chance.

If there was a God, he believed, He was somewhere else during the war. The atrocities of the Germans were only outdone by the cruelty of the Japanese military. The Germans killed people efficiently, coldly but the Japanese took great pleasure in inflicting pain before death.

Greg remembered the real reason Luigi, 'Louie' to his friends, was so dedicated to his well-being.

They were on point, attempting to flush out another of the hidden rat-holes the Japanese were hiding in. The world exploded as bullets flashed through the air, taking both of them down. Greg was shot in the leg, Louie in the stomach. For the next few minutes, Greg brought both of their M1s to bear on the enemy, killing seventeen and wounding the rest. After that, he carried and dragged his new best friend two miles back to the American lines before collapsing himself.

The Navy Cross, two Silver Stars, the Pacific Campaign medal and three Purple Hearts sitting in a small box on the bottom of his bedroom bureau drawer were the only testament to that short time in Hell. Although Luigi told his family everything that had happened, Greg kept it to himself once he returned to California. There were no heroes in war, just survivors.

"Let's just say that I came about it honestly.

"Per favore, signore, due gelati di arancia ed un altro espresso..."

Her fingers were stuck and the harder she pulled the 'stucker' they got. 'Damn it!' "Greg, help me..."

'Cindy sounds just like a little girl,' he thought, 'with her fingers caught in the cookie jar' as he saw her looking around the dark, little store for him.

The older woman was engrossed with blowing on different glass wind-chimes and listening for the one she wanted. Greg decided to rescue Cindy before she panicked. 'How could a simple Chinese finger trap frustrate her when just a day or so earlier, she had taken a gun and blasted three through a bedroom door narrowly missing four cops?'

"Listen, you have to push in, not pull out." He took her hands in his and gently pushed her fingers together. The woven trap expanded enough that she could slip her fingers out.

"My hero!" she exclaimed and kissed him. "Thank you, kind sir." 'Oh, he feels so good. I can't wait for tonight.'

Strangely enough, he remembered he promised to call the homicide detective and asked about a phone. The girl behind the counter met him with an expressionless gaze. 'Jesus Christ,' he thought, 'it's like Okinawa, again.' "Do you know where I can find a pay-phone, please."

'Ah, fuck it.' "C'mon, girls, time to go." 'I'm outta here...'

"But, we haven't..."

"We're leaving, now." Greg walked to the door, took one look back and walked out onto the Chinatown street and headed down the hill toward the fog-filled Bay. After about a hundred feet, he abruptly stopped, wondering where they were and got his answer as they bumped into him.

"Mr. Knotts, if you're going to head down the street and then stop, at least give us some warning."

Chagrined, he looked at Mrs. Shocley. "Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry, it just was that..." 'How can I explain it,' he wondered, 'about Okinawa? And then, the stupid girl?'

"You happen to see a pay-phone around here, by any chance?" 'I've got to call that cop before he blows a fuse.'

"I think I see a sign for one down by that market." She pointed further down the street to a Bell Systems sign bolted to the side of the brick building.

"Thanks. I have to make a call and then we can walk around some more, just not to that store... that is, if you want. I need to sit down, first."

Greg almost ran down the hill to the sign and looked into the store. Just inside the doorway was a phone and he walked over to a cashier to get some phone change.

"Hello, Detective... it's Greg Knotts... Yes... WHAT! You're kidding... dead, huh?"

"Los Angeles Police found him floating in one of the Venice canals."

"OK, so... now what?" 'Yeah, now what? Floating in the canal? Jesus.' "So, he was... what?"

"Drowned..."

"Well, is it safe? Did you find that guy?" 'If that fuck's still out there, there's no way we're coming home.'

"Word on the street is that he's down in TJ but I don't know. This is a big state and he could be anywhere. What do you want to do?" 'Like he knows...'

"Don't have any idea..."

'I thought so, you poor bastard, but I don't know, either.' "Look, uh, Greg... why don't you stay out wherever you all are for, let's say, another three or four days. Call me back then and we'll see what's going on, how's that?" 'Take the chance, Greg, boy, it won't get any better than this...'

"All right... you're watching my place, right? and Mrs. Shocley's?" 'Damn well better...'

"Yes, we've got a patrol car out there about every half-hour." 'Yeah, when we can.'

The next few days were spent having fun... a picnic at Golden Gate Park, a swim in the ocean, a drive across the Golden Gate, some museums and a climb to the top of Coit Tower.

Cindy laughed... 'Coit Tower, shaped like a giant penis... more like coitus tower!' He bought them Popsicles and she licked hers, giving him a wink and promising something later.

"You can come home, now. We found Origli."

"Oh, yeah, how'd that happen?" 'Must have fallen over his dead body or something in the dark.'

"It's the funniest thing. Seems he laid off a lot of his gambling to bigger bookies and they didn't appreciate it when he couldn't pay them back. No wonder he went down to TJ." Didn't go far enough, though... "And, now he's dead."

Kleis could hear Greg laughing.

"What about Cindy? What about the gambling debts? What about the four dead guys?" 'Yeah, what about them?'

'So, it's Cindy, now, is it? Probably nailing the broad.' "Well, as far as the dead guys, the only one that cared was Origli and that was just business so that's over. As far as the debt, we don't think anyone knows for sure who owed what because he just rolled it over into one big ticket. So, we're pretty sure that Cindy is in the clear on that one.

"Want to come home?" 'Please, say 'no.''

"I'll think about it. I'll let you know."

"Well, are we finally going home?" asked Mrs. Shocley. 'My goldfish is probably floating by now.'

"Yes, but in two days, I need to make sure it's safe for all of us. Your husband's bookie is dead, the four guys, well, they've been dead and nobody seems to know or care who we are." 'At least, I hope so.'

Three days later, they headed south back the 101.

*

Coming...

Chapter 3: You can't go home, again