From The Dead (11 page)

Even if this resulted in the opportunity of a
lifetime, the memory of today would linger in the cavities of his
mind. He was too honest to deny its existence and fearful of its
discovery.

The pungent scent of rubbing alcohol loosened his
stomach further. With a splash of cologne, he managed to find
relief.

Jesse needed to relax. In the kitchen, he opened a
can of beer and leaned against the sink. Within a minute of the
first swallow, the wooziness of the drink settled in and started to
medicate his brain. An image of the afternoon flashed in his
memory—of Adam on his knees in the longest minute of Jesse’s
life.

No,
Jesse thought to himself in defiance of
the memory that taunted him.
Stop!

Though Jesse had kept silent back in Malibu, those
were the words he had wanted to shout.

No!
Stop!

Now it was too late.

Jesse took another swig of beer. He tried to calm
himself but failed. His stomach somersaulted. Then its contents
climbed.

He darted back into the bathroom, just in time to
kneel on the floor and vomit into the toilet. While he maneuvered
into a crossed-leg position, he rested his elbows against the cold
porcelain. Then he vomited again.

If only he could purge the dark shadows that way.

CHAPTER 17

Two weeks passed after the incident with Adam. Jesse
had climbed out of the depths of that afternoon and had become
optimistic that things might turn around. Perhaps he could move on.
He hoped the rumor of his mistake would never reach Jada’s ears.
The industry was large, but grapevine networks, he’d discovered,
could rival a subway system in both complexity and speed.

Mick had scheduled casting for last week. Adam had
promised to call him with an update, but the week came and went
without acknowledgment. Now Jesse felt agitated. Sure, waiting was
part of the game, but then again, he and Adam hadn’t played by the
traditional rules.

With the store void of customers, Jesse decided to
give Adam a call. He fished the phone number out of his wallet—the
same piece of paper that had instigated the mess. He hadn’t
programmed the number into his phone’s address book. He didn’t want
a reminder of how he’d obtained it.

When he flipped open his phone, he dialed the number
and waited until Adam answered.

“Hey there, it’s Jesse.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten in touch. It’s been
busy.”

Where?
At the sushi counter?

“Not a big deal,” Jesse lied. “I wanted to follow up
on your dad’s film, though—our arrangement.”

Adam hesitated with a response, and Jesse’s shoulders
went limp.

“Yeah, about that. Listen, we ran into a snag,” Adam
said.

“A snag?”

“I owed a friend, and he called it in.” Adam paused.
“He got the role.”

Jesse bit his lip.

“I had no idea he would call in the favor,” Adam
continued, “but he got wind of the part and phoned me the night
before Dad scheduled the auditions. I couldn’t get you involved at
that point.”

“What other roles are coming down the pike?”

“Nothing. Sorry about that; I wish I had something
for ya.”

“What’s the next step? Where do we go from here?”

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”

“Not that. I mean, what happens next with your
dad?”

“Um … nothing. There’s nothing else available.”

“So I wait and call in the favor like your friend. Is
that what you’re saying?”

“No, that other guy was a part-time lawyer. We go way
back, and I owed him after he got me out of a DUI charge. You can’t
expect me to keep a running tally, can you?”

“Then you’re saying I’m screwed?”

“Look, how long have you been in the entertainment
business?”

“Eleven years.”

“Then you know there aren’t any guarantees.”

“I’d say a guarantee was implied when you had your
mouth on me.”

Jesse flipped the phone shut and banged it on the
counter.

He should have known. He’d crossed a line. Now he
wanted to climb into a sinkhole.

Who have I become?

He could sense the guilt eat away at the back of his
mind. In his heart, Jesse felt he deserved the treatment Adam had
handed him.

CHAPTER 18

How long was he supposed to hang on to this cliff?
How much longer did he plan to claw his way toward nothing?

Jesse wanted to give up.

Engrossed by the Pacific water ahead, he hoped Adam
Lewis wouldn’t wander by. Alone, Jesse sat cross-legged in the
sand. His eyes, once vibrant with ambition and dreams, now felt
hollow. He couldn’t do this much longer. This wasn’t a matter of
missed opportunity or being played for a fool. This was a fight for
his destiny, his soul’s desire. He’d invested everything he had in
anticipation of future success. And the ominous notion that he’d
reached the final tool in his arsenal sent shivers through him.

What do you do when your spirit is broken?

He heard the waves call to him. What he wouldn’t give
to disappear.

Camera by his side, he had planned to take some
therapeutic shots but didn’t feel motivated. So he sat.

Jesse pondered his past, from where he had come. He
hadn’t appreciated his Ohio home until now. Though he’d come to
California to discover himself, he had discovered a stranger
instead. The people who knew him dwelt in Ohio.

And here? Welcome to the charade. He had fooled
himself.

He wished he could return home and make amends. But
by now he was too ashamed.

Jesse’s cell phone chirped in his pocket. He didn’t
care who called and didn’t want to talk, but out of habit, he
grabbed the phone anyway. When he checked the caller ID, he
discovered the first positive development in weeks: his sister
Eden’s name on the display. Despite his efforts to forget his past,
Eden represented its final, albeit welcome, thread.

“How’s my little sister?”

“Where are you? I hear waves.”

Today, he would’ve paid in diamonds to hear the sound
of her voice. “Malibu. Are you at work?”

“Heading home,” she replied. “How’d the audition go?
That Mick Lewis part you mentioned.”

“It didn’t work out.” He’d forgotten that in his
former certainty, he had mentioned that role to her. And he didn’t
want to go into further detail—not with anyone. In an attempt to
change the subject, he asked, “How’s Dad?”

“He’s the same—you know Dad.” Eden paused. “Why don’t
you come visit him?”

Jesse just shook his head and snickered, minus the
humor. “I don’t see that happening. After eleven years?”

“He’d want to see you.”

“I call him every once in a while.”

“But it’s not the same as seeing you in person. He
misses you.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“How’s Jada?”

“She’s … Jada.” He fingered circles in the sand and
said little. Eyes heavy, he closed them beneath the weight of his
inner shroud.

Throughout the years, whenever he’d talked to Eden,
he had dominated their conversation with the latest news about his
projects, his girlfriend and acquaintances, the clubs he’d
frequented. From the way he’d spoken, Jesse had painted pictures of
warm, glistening sunshine and a lifestyle of perpetual motion. But
in recent weeks, even he could sense the vibrant detail had
vanished. By now Eden must have wondered if something was
wrong.

On the other end of the line, Eden waited. Jesse
offered only wind and water in response.

“Are you okay?” Eden asked.

Jesse palmed the sand to erase the concentric circles
he had engraved there.

Now you see it, now you don’t.

In a moment. Gone.

He lifted his head again.

“No,” he replied. “No, I’m just not.”

CHAPTER 19

After Jada veered off of Interstate 405 in her
crimson BMW, she sped onto Ronald Reagan Freeway that Saturday
night. The swerve snapped Jesse’s head backward and pinned it
against the headrest.

“I could’ve driven and avoided breaking my neck,” he
quipped.

Humorless, Jada didn’t break her concentration. She
shook her head but didn’t need to say a word.

No, they wouldn’t dare take his car to where they
headed tonight. After all, someone might see Jada climb out of a
car worth a mere half of its original—and affordable— retail
value.

She extinguished her cigarette in the ashtray, where
she left it to smolder in ferocious defeat.

By day, Jesse marveled at the high hills of foliage
and bare, clay-colored land that sat in royal loftiness overhead.
Even now, under the cover of night, he caught their silhouettes,
which surrounded the freeway. He and Jada whizzed through Simi
Valley on their way to Heights, a nightclub located on the bluffs
above. When she’d heard a rumor that a group of trendy young actors
frequented the venue on Saturday nights, Jada had jumped to follow
suit and network with them. From Jesse’s perspective, her actions
had to be considered borderline stalking, but he had grown
accustomed to her erratic behavior by now. Beyond the connections,
she craved the air of importance that accompanied her mental
Rolodex.

“Do me a favor,” she said. “If we catch them there,
let me do the talking. Go refresh my drink, okay?”

Jesse continued to stare out the window into the
night.

“And don’t stick with beer like you usually do,” Jada
continued. “If you see what they’re drinking from a distance, try
to mimic it.” She smacked the steering wheel. “Oh, whatever you do,
don’t mention to anyone here that you’re an extra who works
part-time in a camera shop, okay? I don’t need to look like a loser
tonight.”

“Do you ever listen to the way your words sound when
you—“

“I think Dale’s going to be there, by the way.”

Jesse drummed his fingers against his leg. “Why is
that guy a sudden fixture in our lives?”
“Come on, we went through this already,” Jada sighed. “He’s a
friend from work. Why are you so touchy about it?”

“You didn’t mention why he keeps showing up in odd
places. I ran into him at the apartment when he picked up a script
the other day.”

“He enjoys advising films rather than practicing
medicine.”

“Oh, of course.”

He wasn’t in the mood to argue. Unknown to Jada, he
hadn’t gotten out of bed after she left the apartment that morning.
He didn’t want to. As sunlight poured into the room, he buried
himself under the sheets. The hours passed, and when he checked the
clock, it was four in the afternoon. That scared the hell out of
him and urged him out of bed before Jada could find out.

Jada checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror.
“And try to act like you haven’t been fucked up in the head the
past few weeks, okay?”

What a fool he was. This woman didn’t love him. And
without her, he had nothing left.

Jada continued to talk, but Jesse zoned out and
retreated into himself.

* * *

Jada left her BMW with the valet at the front of the
building. Together, she and Jesse walked through Heights’s lobby
and into a large room filled with patrons. On occasion, the club
rented its facilities to wedding parties as a reception site, with
the ceremony held on the patio outside, which overlooked the valley
and its scores of traffic.

In one corner of the room, a light flashed behind a
DJ, whose music throbbed throughout the venue and screamed into
Jesse’s ears.

Jada leaned over and shouted, “See anyone
familiar?”

Jesse scanned the room. He wanted no part of the
crowd tonight but determined to mask it.

When he failed to spot a celebrity presence, he shook
his head.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Jada said. “Go get me
a martini.”

Despite its size, the room had a snug ambience. A
series of semi-transparent curtains adorned the walls. Their fabric
dropped down to serve as partitions between otherwise open, cozy
chambers of white sofas, where small groups of patrons huddled. The
furniture and curtains sat awash in overhead ivory light. At the
center of the room sat a dance floor packed with people in motion,
free at last from the chains of whatever job had pegged them down
all week.

Jesse made his way to the bar and ordered a martini
for Jada and something strong for himself. When he considered the
emotional sewage he’d waded through lately, he wondered if liquor
might prove downright dangerous for him. But he didn’t care; his
heart ached inside and he wanted the pain to go away.

Dale headed toward the bar and leaned a few feet away
from Jesse to place his own order.

Jesse turned away. He couldn’t shake his suspicions
about that guy and his manicured hands. Why did he sense that Dale
had intruded into his world and usurped his privacy?

That guy had a confidence that oozed from one who
held the upper hand.

That guy had to know something Jesse didn’t.

Dale had yet to notice Jesse’s presence tonight.
Maybe he’d already had a couple of drinks. Maybe he’d taken a hit
on something beforehand.

Jesse scurried away with the drinks and found Jada
mingling with an assortment of model wannabes.

Within an hour, the dancing deteriorated to a
trashier degree. With no one impressive around, Jada acted as
though she’d abandoned concern for her own image. Jesse and Jada
laid their drinks on a table. They headed for the dance floor,
where they ground together to the slow, eerie shrill of a Euro
techno-pop singer. Overhead, the lights shifted to an enigmatic
blue, reminiscent of a cold January twilight. With the help of his
first drink and Jada’s carnal movement against him, Jesse abandoned
himself to his own beguiling nirvana.