|The Townhouse, Venice, Ca, 2012|
Karen's hair was still damp, she had to hoof it a couple blocks to her car. Finding parking down at the beach wasn’t easy or cheap. Her car was sandwiched between a BMW and a rusty old VW van. The time she spent with Bob, sent her back and she was in a rush not to be late for work. Soon, she was behind the wheel and on her way to her office in the Fox Hills area of
. As she drove, she thought of her predicament, and then she tried not too. She didn’t know what to do? She’d be putting on a brave face for the past couple days, and he reunion with Bob had been a great distraction. Now, she was faced to wonder, what if Bob, can’t get rid of this thing in her apartment? She knew that she couldn’t continue to stay with Bob, as much as she’d like to entertain the thought. What was her option; move? And what if it followed her? The thought, made her sick to her stomach. Bob had to pull through for her; there was no other option in her mind… Bob had to be the man... her, George Peppard. Culver City
Bob followed Sawtelle’s advice and made his way down to the Venice Library. He decided just to walk the mile or so there. It was only the second time Bob, had set foot in the new library. As a boy, he used to go to the old one on California Avenue. The new library was bigger, it was housed in a modern looking building that sat on the middle of a cement island, which ran all the way down to the beach. It used to be where the old Pacific Electric Railway Red Car ran back in the old days. When Bob walked in, he noticed the reception desk to the left and asked the fifty-ish woman sitting behind it."Excuse me, where your computers?"
The woman was in the middle of something, and just pointed to the right, to where a bank of Dell pc's sat. Bob rolled his eyes when he saw that they were all being used. He then realized that he needed a new library card to access the Times archives. Bob had no choice but to bother the pointing woman again. By the time he finished doing what he had to do a computer opened up. Bob went and sat down at the computer, he looked at the woman sitting next to him, he didn't know why? But he suspected that she was a vegetarian.
Before he could get what he needed from the site, he found himself going through the usual ritual of having to get a user name and password. Bob wondered how many of those damn things he had floating around out there in cyberspace that he couldn't remember? After a little more fumbling around,he was in. Then after about twenty minutes or so of poking around; Bob punched in the name Willa Reese and hit pay dirt. She just popped up like a weasel.
“Bingo!” Bob said a little too loud for the public library. Then next thing he pulled up, really blew his mind... and then some.
“You gotta be fuckin' kidding me?” He said, even louder, that didn’t go over well with woman sitting next to him on the other computer, who gave him a dirty look that made him think of Nellie Olson on Little House on the Prairie.
Bob sat there and stared into the monitor, there she was on the front page of the Times dated April 12,1949.
“Notorious Hollywood Madame’s Day in Court.”
A photo of the thin faced woman, sporting dark glasses, she was dressed in garb that worthy of Barbara Stanwyck in a old film noir. The photo captured her walking down the steps of the Hall of Justice downtown, next to her was a portly man, who the caption had identified as her attorney Edward J. Packard.
“Whaddaya know, before there was Heidi Fleiss; there was a Willa fuckin' Reese," Bob said to himself, even though it didn't stop him from looking over at the presumed vegetarian lady sitting next to him.
Bob scratched his head and sat there, carefully reading the old scanned newspapers. He read that they had nabbed her for twelve counts of pandering. What Bob found out next really blew his freaking mind.
“Oh, no, fuckin’ way!” Bob said, way too loud.
“Can you please, control yourself,” said the lady at the other computer.
“I’m really fuckin' sorry... I mean sorry,” Bob said still shaking his head in disbelief of what he just read.
What blew Bob’s mind was; the paper stated that Willa Reese had ran girls out of... and been a part owner of the Townhouse, the very placed that he now tended bar at.
Bob just sat there slack-jawed, looking at the computer screen. Bob needed the walk back to sort out this strange information in his brain; to try and figure out. Was it a coincidence? How could it be, he thought? What the fuck? He headed west on Venice Boulevard, it was a warm day, with a slight breeze. Twenty minutes later, he found himself standing outside of the Townhouse. He didn’t immediately walk in; instead he just stood there, looking inside. Bob jumped when his cell phone rang. The sun was too bright to see the read out of who was calling? Bob answered.
“Where yat?” He thought he heard on the other end.
“Mamma, is that you?” Bob found it hard to hear with the background noise coming from the other end.
“I’m at lax,” Mamma Basco called it, not using its initials.
“Lax? You mean, L-A-X?”
“Ain't dat what I said!”
“You’re here? In Los Angeles?”
“Well, ain’t dat where lax is?”
“How do you think sweet child? I was on a plane. I came to help ya out! So come and gets me!”
“Southwest, the one with them yellow and red planes.”
“Okay Mamma, stay put, I’m on my way!
“I’ll be right here,” she said.
Bob hung up his cell and let out a sigh.
As Bob crossed Windward, when something whooshed by him, grabbing him by his arm, as it did.
“Gottcha!” Bob recognized the voice and its accompanying giggle.
Isabel jumped off a skateboard. She had her Venice Beach garb on, a green and pink crochet bikini top and brown khakis . Bob thought; if Karen finds out Harry Potter girl travels by skateboard, he'd just never gonna hear the end of it.
“Where have you been?”
“What do you care?" She said with a hint of attitude.
"Do you miss me?”
Bob wanted to answer her carefully. He always believed that it’s better to say less with such questions. But he often, forgot to follow his own rule.
“Something like that?” he told her.
“You did! Admit it, Bob!”
"I'm glad you're okay."
Bob smiled, and started walking toward Speedway .
“I gotta go get somewhere, pronto… LAX.”
“Since you missed me so much, can I come along with you?”
“Sure,” Bob said, not really exactly knowing why, except maybe she was right?
“And then when get back we can go to your place and have sex.”
Bob didn’t break a stride.
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen”
“Why? Do you still have a woman at your place?”
Bob looked at her and chose not to answer that one.
“I’m in a hurry to pick up an old friend, actually an old woman.”
“Pretty damn old. so if you come with me, you gotta be cool… promise? She enough to handle on her own.”
“Hey, why did you call me a Unicorn the other night?”
“Well because, I think you’re special,” Bob said before he could stop himself.
Isabel stopped walking. Bob stopped and turned around.
“What? You do?”
“Well, you're not Princess Diana or anything like that... ?”
“Hey, you can't take it back!
Isabel threw her skateboard up in the air, then caught it.
"Nobody’s actually ever said that to me before.”
Bob looked at her, he thought she was joking.
“What you? You just scream; I’m special!” Bob said.
“Awe, now I r-e-a-l-l-y want to have sex with you!”
Bob started walking again at a faster pace.
“No more talking. We gotta get to the fuckin' airport.”
Linda Ronstadt was belting her way through Tumbling Dice, as Bob drove his gangster mobile up Lincoln Boulevard to the airport. He never took the freeway to LAX, in his book that was strictly a non-native Angeleno move.
As they drove halfway up the hill to Westchester, Bob's mind was still zoned in on what he found on Willa Reese at the library. Isabel picked up that he was mentally out of his body. Then Isabel smiled at him and exposed her right boob. When noticed a woman sitting in the passenger seat of the car besides then looking her way, she quickly covered her boob back up.
Bob cracked a smile and thought to himself; what was it about that passenger seat in his car that made women act like they were on Bourbon Street.
"I'm really starting to miss New Orleans, remind me to give you some beads for that later," Bob said.
He appreciated Isabel giving him a little break from his brain-lock, and then found himself mentally comparing Isabel's breasts to Karen's. They were booth about a C cup, but Isabel's nipple was pink-ish and a little larger, with freckles; he liked them both.
Bob’s Monte Carlo was stopped at the red light at the entrance of passenger pick-up.
Southwest Airlines was situated at the first terminal on Los Angeles International, and there was no missing Mamma Basco… she was the only old voodoo woman leaning on a baggage cart. She was dressed in a bright red skirt and a teal colored blouse, with a multi-colored scarf on her head.
“See that old black lady over there?”
“Uh..oh, yeah,” she said.
Jump out and run over there and help her with the baggage cart and I’ll swing over to the curb.”
“You got it!”
Isabel swung the car door open and did a sprint like the Bionic Woman. Bob was amazed at her speed. She was all ready talking to Mamma Basco and pointing at Bob’s car before the light had turned green.
Bob pulled over to the curb jumped out of the car to open the trunk. Isabel was all ready on it, she had Mamma big green canvas suitcase already pulled halfway out of the cart.
“She’s wild,” Isabel said to Bob.
“Thank you, dear,” said Mamma Basco as she approached the car.
“Hi Momma,” said Bob.
“Don’tcha "hi "Mamma me! Get over here and gives me a hug!”
Bob smiled and hugged the old woman, just as Isabel slammed the car trunk closed.
“You lookin’ good sugar,” said Mamma.
A second later an airport cop blew his whistle and started waving his arms for Bob to move his car.”
“Thanks Mamma, good to see you. I gotta get this car out of her or I’ll get a ticket.”
Mamma leaned over a whispered to Bob.
“She’s a cute little thing,” Mamma Basco said. Bob just looked over at Isabel and smiled. Isabel helped Momma Basco get inside the car, where she sat shotgun. Isabel came around to Bob’s side of the car to get in. He just couldn’t help but to smack her fanny as climbed in the back seat. She sat back and stuck her tongue out at him and smiled at him.
“So, Mamma...?” Bob said as he pulled on to the swirling airport traffic. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
“I done figured you be needing me…"
She rested her arms on her big purse.
" I’ve been meaning to come out here again, before they give me dat second line… last time I was here, I went to the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. I saw them Rams play those San Francisco 49ers. The Rams whopped they're butts that day... so, now was a good a time as any to get out here? But Bobby, if you wanna to contribute to my trip, I wouldn’t about that complain none.
Bob laughed, “Well, thanks… I’m sure that I can kick in something. I’m sorry, my place is a little messy at the moment.”
“Well, dat’s okay, honey.”
The Monte Carlo stayed on course on Lincoln and crossed Manchester Boulevard.
I remember seeing Sammy Davis Jr. at the Coconut Grove… anybody good playing there now?”
“Coconut Grove? Sorry Mamma, that place is long gone…. LA ain’t New Orleans, if it’s older than twenty years,they tear it down… that's how our politicians pay for their campaigns here… mostly from contributions from developers.
Now you tell me where you at with dis here spirit?” Mamma turned to the backseat at Isabel, who looked a bit confused.
“Not her, Mamma. I'll tell you, I found out some shit today that's still got me spinning.”
“Oh, she ain’t the one with dat problem? I feel so dang silly now! I told her back at the airport that she needed to surprise you with a blow job.”
“She did,” said Isabel from the backseat.
“ I’m so embarrassed now.”
Bob felt himself turning a red, as he heard Isabel laughing with delight from the backseat.
“I’m sorry child,” Mamma Basco said.
“Wait, so what is all this spirit stuff?” Isabel said.
Bob can of worms was now opened.
“That’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t----“
"Hey, that's just wrong!"
Mamma poked he head in the backseat.
“Bobby, is this the girl with the Harry Potter tattoo on her butt?”
Both Isabel’s’ eyes and mouth got real big.
“Bob!! O-h-m-y –G-o-d!”
“Gottcha, we’ll talk about dat later,” Mamma Basco, looked at Bob and then she looked back at Isabel and winked at her.
“You was already been givin’ Bobby some! Naughty girl.”
Again she looked in the back at Isabel, who was turning a bit flush with embarrassment .
“Don’t be embarrassed, if Mamma wasn’t so old… " Mamma Basco motioned her eyes over Bob's way, then gave Isabel a saucy look.
"You know… I’m just sayin," Mamma said, then she cackled with earthy delight. Isabel’s eyes got large again, and she made a face, as if she didn't just hear what Mamma Basco just said. Bob just shook his head in again in embarrassment, he didn't want to see what was going on behind his back... he just hoped he could get through this ride without Mamma showing her breasts. Bob just kept driving down the hill on Lincoln Boulevard toward Marina Del Rey.
“Redhead… huh, Bobby?… you two are kinda like, Lucy and Ricky Ricardo," Mamma said as she looked through the windshield at the view of the Playa Vista.