by Jerry Cole
Mad Dog Dan looked almost exactly like Sherman had pictured him in his mind, this was despite the fact he had nothing to go on except for that ridiculous name and a job profession. Dressed entirely in matching denim — most of it was old, torn through and looked to have smelled just terrible — Mad Dog Dan was tall, skinny and malnourished, but looked about as hard a man as Sherman had ever seen. His skin was tanned and cracked like leather, his face was a mass of pockmark scars barely hidden by his scratchy beard, and although he had a full set of teeth, each one to the last was yellow and brown and looked about one solid meal away from falling out.
“Mad Dog! What’s crackin’!” Nick waved as the two men approached him. Nick looked to be doing everything possible to hide how nervous he was around Mad Dog Dan; he waved enthusiastically and even went for a fist-bump when they got close enough... Mad Dog Dan did not return the fist-bump.
“This him then?” Mad Dog Dan stood with his hands wedged into his pockets, his back hunched and turned slightly away from the two, and his lip curled into a sneer.
“Ah, yes. This is he.” Nick grabbed Sherman by the shoulders and pulled him between the two men. “The one I was telling you about, Sherman Haas —”
“How are you?” Sherman hurried to cut Nick off. Although he didn’t think Mad Dog Dan was the kind of guy to flip and report Sherman to the police, Sherman also didn’t want him having his full name. “Nice to meet you.”
Mad Dog Dan continued to sneer as he eyed Sherman up and down; unimpressed was perhaps the only way to describe his look. “How much did you want?”
“Oh!” Sherman blinked. He had known the question was coming, but didn’t think it would be so direct. “I um... an eight ball, I think – that's what it’s called, yeah? I don’t usually buy in such large —”
“1 K.”
“Excuse me?”
Mad Dog Dan stunk... and that was putting it nicely. There was an odor drifting from him that was a mixture of body odor, cigarettes, stale booze and something else that Sherman couldn’t quite nail, but that was making it very hard to concentrate. Up this close too, the dirt on his skin was even more pronounced; in some places it even filled in his pockmarks.
“I said one thousand, cash.” Mad Dog Dan’s head suddenly swiveled until he was glaring at two teen girls that had been loitering nearby, passing a bottle of vodka between them. He bulged his eyes at them and they yelped and hurried away. “That ain’t a problem, is it?”
“What? No – no, not at all.” Sherman was quick to reach into his wallet and pull the cash out. He had known how much it was going to cost him going in, and even though the price was exorbitant, this was also Australia so it was rather standard.
“He’s good for it, don’t you worry.” Nick rested his hands on Sherman’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “You ever heard of DreamLine Travel? This little prick basically runs it.”
“Is that right?” Mad Dog Dan tilted his head curiously as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a yellow balloon that Sherman hoped to be stuffed full of a certain white powder.
“Too right,” Nick continued proudly. “In fact, if you ever want a discounted trip —”
“Thanks for that!” Sherman just about shouted as he made the trade, cash for the balloon. As he did, he shrugged Nick off, while hoping that his tone indicated to his loud friend to keep his trap shut. Again, it wasn’t that Sherman worried anything would come from Mad Dog Dan knowing who he was and what he did... but that didn’t mean he wanted the information broadcast all over Redfern either.
“Yeah, whatever,” Mad Dag Dan shrugged as he pocketed the cash.
“So, I can just ah... anytime I need something... ah... give you a call?” Sherman pressed. This was his first time meeting Mad Dog Dan and as much as Sherman hated to admit it, as much as it nauseated him to even think it, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last.
“Chubs here gave you me number?” Mad Dog Dan indicated to Nick.
“He did.”
“That’s it then. You know what to do.” Mad Dog Dan turned to head back into the building.
“Thanks, Mad Dog.” Nick stuck his hand out for Mad Dog Dan to shake, but Mad Dog Dan was already halfway back toward the buildings entrance. Sherman got the sense that even if Mad Dog had seen the hand, he still wouldn’t have shaken it. “Classic Mad Dog.”
“Come on, let’s go. This place gives me the willies.” Sherman darted around Nick and was quick to jump back in the car and lock the door. Nick joined him a moment later.
Because of Nick’s size, everything he did was a struggle. Just the act of him climbing into the car, closing the door and doing up his seatbelt was accompanied by a series of groans and exasperated sighs. “So, that went well,” Nick started.
“Lovely,” Sherman agreed. “I might invite him to Chrissy lunch.”
“Obviously he ain’t exactly Mr. Personable, but at least now you’ve got a hook-up. You don’t have to come crying to me every other week now. You, are welcome my little friend.”
A part of Sherman knew he should have been grateful, and probably should have told Nick as much. But another part, a much smaller more silent majority, knew that what had just happened was the beginnings of a slippery slope. And now, there was no looking back. Really, Sherman should have slapped Nick across the face.
Sherman didn’t consider himself an addict. God no, he wasn’t there yet. But his trip through Europe had opened his eyes to the world of cocaine, and how God damn lovely it was. There was just something so... so transformative about the drug. It had the unique ability to strip away all the stress that Sherman felt through work and send him into a state of relaxation he had never known. Before Europe, he’d used booze to do this. Now... well, he hadn’t gotten drunk in nearly a month.
Nick started up the car. “Now, I know you’re going to turn me down. But I have to ask anyway. Any chance you want to come out with —”
“Nope.” Sherman opened the balloon, delighted to see the coke wrapped up inside.
“Come on,” Nick groaned. “It’s Friday. The clubs are thriving – I'm even willing to go to a gay club, if that’s what you want.”
“Nope.”
“I guarantee that with me there, doing the intros, working the room and all that, I’ll have you a guy in minutes. Gay guys love me! And once I tell them I’m straight, but I know a rich little hottie with a massive —”
“Are you right?” Sherman laughed. “You know I don’t go out. Besides, I’ve got a call to make in —” he checked the time, “— forty-five minutes. So, if we could....” he indicated for Nick to start driving.
Nick rolled his eyes as he kicked the car into gear. “Right, the business call – you know, I know for a fact that call can wait till Monday. Those cruise ships aren’t going anywhere.”
“They won’t be once I make this call.”
“Funny.”
The cruise ship line that Sherman kept pitching was just that, a line. And both he and Nick new it.
The truth behind the matter was that while Sherman was currently in the process of ordering three new cruise ships in a bid to expand DreamLine Travel’s cruise line next year, it could still wait until Monday. Both men were aware of that. The only reason that Nick didn’t push on it was because the purchase of said cruise ships was monumentally important to the future of the company.
The Single Through Europe Travel package had been a bust and they needed a way to make the money back. Going all in on cruises was what the marketing team had decided on and with three new ships now on order, they were going to have to go very hard on them. But Sherman was confident this wouldn’t be an issue. Cruises were safe, they always would be, and 2020 was going to be the year for travel.
Even still, when Nick pulled up out front of Sherman’s apartment building, he tried a final time to get Sherman to come out. “When was the last time you got laid – a year ago?” he begged. “Come on! This will be good for you!”
“Good night,” Sherma
n laughed as he slammed the door closed. “I’ll see you Monday.”
Sherman didn’t need Nick hooking him up, but that was because Sherman already had somebody... kind of. He wasn’t dating this person, or even ‘seeing’ them, but they had called one another at least once a week for the past month and a half, and if the last conversation was anything to go off, not to mention the text messages they had been sending, then it wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon.
Once inside his apartment, Sherman hurried to get ready. He quickly took a shower and then slipped into his red silk pajamas. He then ate the freshly rolled sushi that his housekeeper had spent the day making for him. As for the cocaine? He shoved that into his dresser, knowing he wouldn’t need it tonight. He never did on the night’s that he had these calls; they negated the need for hard drugs and even booze.
And then, just as 8:30PM rolled over, he fell onto the couch and readied himself for the call he’d been looking forward to all day.
It was Bradley that he was calling, of course. Who else could it be? Since Europe, the two men had spoken on the phone to one another at least once a week, sometimes more if they had the time. In between that, there was a multitude of texting, tagging and meme sending. It was as if they were dating... only from a distance, and without having said the actual words yet.
Things were never meant to go this way. After those three days spent on the yacht, and with their trip to Bali booked for November, both men had agreed that they wouldn’t ‘overdo it,’ in regard to staying in touch. They knew they’d be seeing one another in a few months and didn’t want to risk fizzling out. But they had still agreed to call one another when they both got in... and then they agreed to call the next week just because... and then the week after and then the week after...
Well, it had now been nearly two months since they had last seen one another and they were closer than they had ever been. Tonight, they would talk, they would tell one another about their weeks, they would joke, laugh, gossip and finish with a little phone sex, as they always did. Nick might have thought he was having the night of his life out clubbing, but Sherman knew that what he had in store was infinitely better.
His phone vibrated at exactly 8:31PM, and Bradley’s name popped up on the screen. Sherman still got a little nervous each time he answered, butterflies flapping their wings and trying to escape his insides.
“There he is,” Sherman answered the call. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“I hope you were about to call the cops. Report me missing.” Bradley’s voice was a tonic far better than any drug.
“Literally a second away,” Sherman assured him. “If you were another minute later, I would have booked a flight to Melbourne for tonight. The first 24 hours are the most important in any missing persons case.”
“God, lucky I got it in time.”
“Only just,” Sherman joked.
It was as easy and natural as that. At 8:31PM on a Friday night, Sherman found himself laid out on his couch, talking to a man who lived many miles away, and truly, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Chapter Nine
“... it’s not enough to just know what the character wants in the moment though – we're portraying three-dimensional characters here, people. Remember that! What did they want yesterday? What do they want tomorrow? What did they want to be when they were kids? Why aren’t they this now? What’s their favorite color?! Film?! Book?! Meal?! Ask the hard questions to get to the core of your character!”
Bradley always found Ms. Perdy a little too intense for his liking, and today was no different. As she rambled on and on and on about unlocking the secret to good character acting, she paced the front of the room and waved her arms wildly; it was like she thought she was on fire, and no-one else could see the flames but her.
Of the twenty students in her class, at least half were more than on-board with what she was saying. They sat at the front of the room, cross-legged, arms tucked under their bottoms as she had instructed, eyes wide and open and trained on her as if she was a life source. She was God and they were just lucky to be in her vicinity.
The other half of the class also sat on the ground, also with their legs crossed and also with their hands under their bottoms as she had instructed. But they all sat back a little further, and more spread out then those at the front. Bradley was one of these students. He was still listening, but he did so without the risk of being stepped on.
“... I once played a character that had a single line – just the one line in a two-hour production. But if you had asked me what grade she got on her Year Twelve exams, I could have told you – and I would have added what she had hoped to get, why she hadn’t and what she was going to do with herself now! That was how in the character’s head I was.”
Sitting beside Bradley was his class-friend, Isabelle. She was that brand of actor who got into the lifestyle simply because of how good looking she was; it gave her a coolness and self-confidence that always had her at the center of attention growing up. When she got a little older it just made sense that she give acting a try. Even now, she was the only one that didn’t have her hands folded under her, choosing to instead lean back and drum her fingers on the hard-wood floor.
“I wonder what her favorite position to fuck in was,” she whispered out the corner of her mouth to Bradley.
Bradley, caught completely by surprise, burst into laughter at the joke. It wasn’t overly loud, but it was enough to have the entire class turn on him, including Ms. Perdy.
“Something amusing, Mr. Haas?” Ms. Perdy asked. She was a tiny woman, standing at no more than 5 foot. Her head was also a little too big for her body, and her eyes were a little too big for her head. For anyone else, it would have looked comical, but she was so commanding that it was almost frightening.
“Ah... no, no,” Bradley shook his head. “Just um... pins and needles in my foot?” he offered, even though it made little sense.
“Good one,” Isabelle said out the side of her mouth again.
Ms. Perdy pressed her lips together, looked like she was about to get over it and pick-up on where she had been so rudely cut off, when she suddenly caught site of the time and jumped on the spot. “Oh! Deary me, is that the – time's up, I’m afraid class.” She clapped her hands together.
There was a collective groan as the acting students slowly pushed themselves to their feet. Each to the last was barefoot too – as demanded by Ms. Perdy – which had each student then hurrying to the side of the room where their shoes were stacked neatly.
“Monologues next week!” Ms. Perdy shouted out as the students exited. “You all know the rules – and remember, learn who your character is! If you don’t know that, I don’t care what words come out of your mouth because they will fall flat. Flat I tell you!”
Bradley was one of the last out the door... but not because he was a particularly keen student, or because he wanted to have a quick word with Ms. Perdy. Rather, he received a text message that he had been waiting for all day and simply had to check it.
He did so, smiling at what it said. It was nothing too interesting either, merely a confirmation for a phone call later tonight. But the phone call itself was exciting, which was why Bradley wore a huge smile as he sent his response, pocketed the phone and then made his way from acting class. The day had started well and now, it was going to end even better.
Truth be told, there was little for Bradley to complain about in his life at the moment, and if he was being completely honest, or if he even stopped to think about it, he might have said that this was easily the best period of his life thus far.
It started with his acting. Before going to Europe, Bradley was an actor in name only. Sure, he’d wanted to be an actor more than anything, but he hadn’t actually done anything to achieve that goal. He had always just kind of assumed that a role would just fall into his lap one day, and was happy to ride it out until that happened. Well, Europe changed that.
It was his constant ly
ing to Sherman that did it. All the roles that he had invented for himself, even the character that he had been playing, was one that Bradley really, really liked. He was sick of pretending things were going to happen for him, without actually doing anything about it. So, when he got back from his trip overseas one of the first things he did was sign up for an acting class.
It had been nearly two months now since his first class, and already he could see the changes. In terms of his skill level, that was skyrocketing at a pace that even he couldn’t have predicted. And although he hadn’t landed any jobs yet, he had made a ton of connections and had even started going on auditions! He went to three different classes a week now, often had half a dozen auditions every week, and was even lucky enough to get a few call backs. Bradley wasn’t a working actor yet, but soon he would be.
There were other benefits to his hardened pursuit of acting, and the main one greeted Bradley the second he walked out of that class.
“Yo!” Isabelle waved at Bradley from across the road. She was standing with three other students from the class: all in their mid-twenties and all ridiculously good-looking. The four of them together looked like a Calvin Klein commercial.
“What’s up?” Bradley hurried across to greet them. It was late in the afternoon by now, and Bradley was very aware of that fact. He had to be getting home soon so he could deal with his mother before taking that phone call.
“What were you doing in there?” Isabelle queried. “Hitting on Ms. Perdy – I hear that if you sleep with her, she’ll give you the number for an agent.”
“Ha!” Bradley threw his head back. “Even if I wasn’t gay, honey, I don’t think I could do it to myself.”
“That’s the business though,” Sandy, a platinum blonde whisp of a girl pointed out. “How do you think these actors get the best roles?”
“Ah... talent?” Bradley offered.
“Puh-lease,” Sandy rolled her eyes.
“Enough of that,” Isabelle waved them down. “We’re going out to get sloshed. Want to join – it's still happy hour at El Loco and there is a tequila shot with your name on it.”