Ricky Ricardo Joaquin paved the way for me to score a rather startlingly large amount of dinero from the EEOC office at San Francisco State. He had some connection there, a cousin or something. Ricky had fucking cousins everywhere.
- They need some gavachos, man, or they'll get penalised for discriminating against white dudes.
I looked at the check and then at Ricky in disbelief.
I'd never earned more than $30 a day cash anywhere, always working some job where maybe they'll need you next month but probably they won't. And one other thing, very important, Pete, we always keep an eye out for the BA. He has a 72 White Chevy Impala. When the BA shows...Just leave...Run. Jump out the window if you are prepping upstairs. You have to get away no matter what.
- Why?
- Because if the BA catches you, we have to fire you. Union violation.
Ricky grinned from ear to ear.
- You can get even more if you want to work.
- They'll pay me?
- Yeah, man, the'll pay you. They'll find you a job somewhere. I'm telling you. They will give you anything you want.
************
Two plain brown sparrows flitter about the patio. They make a big show of physical contact where there really isn't any and then just as instantly they're gone.
************
Maybe I should just call her.
************
There's nowhere to park. Both sides of the highway line stretched with parked cars. Twenty minutes to find a space is the death void when your life depends on magic. Across the highway in the marsh an oil pump turns and groans, with the occasional metallic screech.
*************
I could write for hours about each of these that are important to me but there are so few! Her eyes that night, shining with fear left uncovered by her peculiarly female false bravado.
- I don't like this beach. Its too dark.
I didn't like it either. The fire rings glowed through the fog, but couldn't subdue the moisture. You became drenched. Also, you started to notice a briskly blowing onshore knife cutting you to the bone. High tide, the loud breaking of the wave followed by the sizzling cold sound of white foam inching its way up the sand. In a few hours the beach would disappear for awhile.
**************
Carole started going on and on about our future together. Future? I never did ask what had happened. Dennis had violated his probation somehow.
- I have to go away.
- What? You have to what?
- I got a scholarship. Its what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.
Carole began to weep softly. I didn't know what to do so I put my arm around her. Immediately, she threw it off of her body like it was a poisonous snake.
- Do you want to go?
- No.
- I, uhhh...
- No. Please don't say anything. Not one more word. I'm just...just too emotional these days.
- You haven't been yourself since Dennis left.
- Please, Pete...OK?
- Its alright for us to talk about it...its a fact, y'know, like just admitting 'what is, is' and going from there.
- I wouldn't be standing here on this beach with you at midnight if I was still with Dennis, would I, Pete?
**********
Ricky rented an apartment in Pacifica, down the Peninsula along PCH.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_State_Route_1
Three bedroom apartment atop a furniture store on the Main Street of a windswept town that resembled a British Open site if you removed the significant buildings and replaced them with modern American Crap. The cold wind blew and a menacing grey ocean ripped and roared all day and night.
Behind us on the second floor across the stairwell was an ambulance company. The two drivers on duty bunked in the two bedroom apartment.
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Down the side street at the end of the block on sat the police station. Thus, squad cars rolled by continuously day and night.
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Doors_of_Perception
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