Read The Story of Lansing Lotte Online

Authors: L.B. Dunbar

Tags: #Legendary Rock Star, #Book 2

The Story of Lansing Lotte (11 page)

BOOK: The Story of Lansing Lotte
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“You are not the one.”

It was so abrupt. I didn’t know what she meant, but before I could respond, Elaine interjected and replied, “Oh, I think he is definitely the one.”  The innuendo was not lost on me. 

At that time, I hadn’t had too many encounters with girls, other than my infatuation with the young Nina, whom Arturo and I fought over. Neither of us got that girl, and I was still hesitant after that experience to express myself to another female. I had still been working on improving my smaller frame, but I had been growing like a weed, as Vivian would say and I was filling out in ways that showed I was changing into a man. I wasn’t attracted to Holi SanGrael, but I was intrigued by her. Her presence was fierce while Elaine’s was flirty. I wasn’t greatly attracted to Elaine Corbin either, but something clicked in
her
on that day that led to a long term obsession with me.

I cringed for a moment when I thought of drunk-fucking Elaine, also at my promise to call her, which I didn’t keep. Now, I had Layne setting a small buzz in my head, and Guinie punching a huge hole in my heart. I didn’t have room for Hollister SanGrael or any of her attitude which rolled off her in the back seat. If she didn’t want to act like she remembered me, I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Perk. He had other plans, though.

“How do you two know each other?” he demanded, his eyes still shifting between me and the rearview mirror to get Holi’s attention.

“Holi and I met once. A long time ago,” I said like it was no big deal, but that seemed to upset Perk even more.

“Met how?”

I didn’t know why I was referring to her in the third person, like she wasn’t in the car, and I didn’t know why she wasn’t supporting my efforts to explain myself to Perk.

“At Elaine’s. Aren’t you cousins or something?”

“What?” Perk almost screeched. His focus was fully on the rearview mirror. She must have refused to look because he did a quick glance over his shoulder to the back seat.

“Hollister?” he said, his tone softening.

“I don’t really remember you,” she spoke and I turned again to see her over the back seat.  She was still staring out the window and we suddenly stopped in front of a decrepit building.

Perk turned fully in the driver’s seat to face the back. His expression showed he was waiting for further clarification. 

“Are you cousins with Elaine Corbin?” Perk spoke again.

“Something like that.”

Perk ran a hand over his short hair and sighed deeply.

“Truth, Hollister.”

“I can’t explain this all now. I have to go.” There was a click of the door handle opening and a momentary tension in the close quarters, before Hollister slid out the door and it slammed shut.

I watched Perk as he watched her walk away. I turned to see her enter a shabby looking building that read Miriam House Women’s Shelter.

“You’re dating a homeless woman,” I laughed.

The back of my head was tapped hard with the flat of Perk’s hand.

“No.”

“Is she a prostitute or something then?”

“You better stop right there before I beat the shit out of you,” Perk’s voice tried to sound teasing, but his tone proved otherwise. He was serious about defending her. My head turned to face him as he pulled into the minimal traffic on the side street, in what I suddenly realized was a shady looking part of town.

“Dude, how can you leave her here?”

“She won’t stay with me.”

“Why not?”

“How do you know her?” he questioned again without responding to me.

“I told you. I saw her at Elaine’s.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. When I was fourteen, maybe fifteen years old.”

“Fuck,” Perk muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to. Didn’t think it was important to mention I saw a random girl once at the Corbin’s, before I ever met you.”

“Important? Important! It could have saved everything.”

“What?”

“I could have had her so much sooner. She was right there, near me all the time, and I didn’t know it.” Perk slammed a hand on the steering wheel, and I didn’t think the wheel could take it.

“Dude, chill.”

Perk looked at me quickly and then shook his head.

“You have her now.” I tried to sound like it was all good.

“No.  No, I don’t have her yet,” he sighed deeply, as he pulled onto the boulevard to drive toward his home. We both glanced in the direction of the merge lane that led to the fateful viaduct and the place of Arturo’s disappearance. We were silent the rest of the ride to Perk’s warehouse.

 

 

My days continued as they always did. I woke; I woke Fleur. I dressed her, then me.  Fed her, skipped me, and the day began. Some days I took Fleur to Clare’s. She was a single woman in the building, several years older than me, and she was working on her dissertation in theatre production. She worked nights and had befriended my father years ago. I hated to assume that my father had had any kind of sexual relationship with her as a younger woman, but I couldn’t put it past him. He had been a terribly attractive man in his time and his cheating was one of many reasons my parents divorced.

I’d never been bitter about their break-up. I was only two and hadn’t known any better, not to mention that he continued to be a loving father when he could be. It was in my pre-teenage years that I grew resentful, until he surprised us all and offered for Sara and I to come live with him. We had lived in Chicago with our mother, but with Sara, fifteen, and me, thirteen, he knew it would be easy to have us live with him. We were past the difficult years as far as basics – feeding ourselves, bathing ourselves, and most importantly potty trained. My mother complained constantly that he hadn’t been present for those years, but I don’t think my father would have agreed that raising two teenage daughters was easier.

My mother had relinquished us easily. She’d always complained she had been the one to raise us, stating she got the short end of the stick. She wanted fame, money, and parties. She couldn’t have that with two small girls and an absent husband who initially promised her all those things. Besides, she said, it gave her the opportunity to move to Florida which she always wanted to do. It wasn’t like she was the ideal mother, but I knew she did the best she could for a single woman still young and in her prime. She was disappointed in my own predicament with Fleur. I didn’t like to think of my mother and her lack of responsibility toward us when we were young. I didn’t like to think of her now in her lack of support for Fleur and me.

On that particular day, I took Fleur to Clare’s, so I could make it to my eleven o’clock class. Then, I had to be back home by two, so Clare could get to her meeting before the theatre opened at five. I had to work that night at six, so I needed another sitter for that gig. The teenage girl on the sixth floor would come down until I finished my set which I hoped would be about ten. My life was ruled by schedules.

Being an indie photographer didn’t pay well, when you wanted to be reputable and respected. I had to use who or what I knew to get into private parties, public clubs, and popular concerts to get some valuable shots. It wasn’t work I felt good about at times, but I had connections and I had to call on them. I told myself I would never take photos of families or children, as I did respect their privacy, but public life fed off the visual displays captured by the camera. Not to mention, it paid well.

I was fortunate that my apartment was paid for and I didn’t have a car. I also had classes to finance, but my college fund had covered most of that, complements again of a thoughtful father. However, I still needed money for clothes, food, and all the things that a four year old desires, including dance lessons. I had taken the gig that evening in hopes that I could earn the other half of the money needed to afford the expensive dance lessons at the private school uptown for Fleur. The lessons were part of her upcoming birthday surprise.

 

 

I spent the rest of the day with Perk, not really doing much of anything until he finally drove me back into the city to
Dolores Guard,
where I found Layne in the front lobby of my ancient building.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…I was just stopping by. This morning was so…awkward.”

I ran a hand through my floppy hair, pushing it to the side as Layne watched my movement. She licked her sweet lips and I paused with my hand braced on the back of my neck.  I had already eaten dinner, so I didn’t really want to offer to take Layne out.

“Want to come upstairs for a bit?” I asked.

“Sure,” she smiled that sweet shy smile again, biting her lip like she was trying to hold the smile down. Her eyes gave away her excitement; the bright brown practically glowed as I pointed her in the direction of the gated lift. We rode up in silence. I felt the same tension I’d felt in the morning at Guinie’s. I didn’t want to have to explain myself. Arturo was my friend.  Guinie was his fiancé. We were all suffering.

We entered my living room and I offered Layne a beer, which she declined. She made herself at home on my couch, covered in gaming remote controllers and picked one up.

“What do you play?”


Minecraft, War of the Worlds, Assassin’s Creed
.”

“Uhm. Wanna play?”

“What?” I laughed.

“I’ll battle you.”

“Game on, sister.” I hit the remote for the television while I handed her a game controller. Logging in, her name appeared: Suicide16.

“That’s kind-of a harsh name,” I said looking at her with concern. My eyes flicked to her wrists, as if it would be written on her that she had tried something so extreme. Multiple bands of beads and woven ribbon circled her delicate forearms and I had no way of learning anything.

“My sister died when I was sixteen years old. Suicide. It was a silly name to assign myself, but I’ve never gotten around to changing it.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever knew that.”

I didn’t know she had a sister. Layne shrugged.

“It’s not something you broadcast to everyone. It happened,” she paused for a moment to squint at the screen, “once upon a time,” she finished on a whisper. It was obvious she didn’t want to tell me more. I decided not to push the issue further.

We played for over an hour before GalehautIII came on the screen. I ignored him, even though he could see I was active. Layne and I laughed and joked as she explained to me where she learned to play.

“I wasn’t exactly the party girl in college, so I often found the other non-party people and joined in their games. Even entered a competition once, but I lost.”

We continued to play for a while longer. She told me more about her job at Lexington Opera House, before she was fired. She had actually been an usher there. She thanked me for lining something up with the Oxford Theatre. I hadn’t actually gotten around to making that call to Ingrid, as she was kind-of on my shit list for not responding to Guinie often enough. I didn’t want to think about Guinie, though, as I was having a guilty good time with Layne. She must have sensed my thoughts and she brought up the morning again.

BOOK: The Story of Lansing Lotte
12.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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