“They come off as smart, arty, not criminals or druggies.”
“Damn. Doesn’t do us much good.”
“Opening act at Taxi Dancer is a huge break for them.”
“Tubes, Sylvester, not a shabby rep builder.”
“I was thinking, just say Sound and Fury lost a bandmate, guy took a powder, wouldn’t that be terrible. Their singer is a front man, without him they might cancel.”
“You think you could find a corruptible replacement?”
“I know I could. The city is full of junky glitter boys with rock star dreams. All I have to do is throw a rock and I’ll hit one.”
“Does seem like every boy with a spike in his arm thinks he’s Iggy.”
“Unless he’s bi, then he thinks he’s Bowie.”
It was a complicated gig with too many moving parts for Sam, but she didn’t have a better plan. “Scout the city. Call when you want me to have the boys pick up Sound and Fury’s singer.”
“Oh, I have a plan for him. Prrrrfect.”
“Aren’t you the bestest little minx.”
• • •
Jacob pulled his ten-speed into the parking lot as Candy was getting into the Mercury Capri her parents gave her two years earlier when she graduated high school.
“Get in, little boy, I’m taking you for a ride.”
“What about my bike?”
“Lock it. Don’t you like candy? I thought all little boys had a sweet tooth.”
Jacob saw Sam inside the coffee shop, paying the bill. He shrugged, waved goodbye to her and climbed into the Capri. “Where are we going?”
“Shopping. You are starting to look raggedy, and not in an I wanna fuck you rock star way.” At the Stanford Shopping Mall she took him into I Magnin. Candy was dressed to her usual high standard and carried bags from several other high-end shops. They didn’t get a second look when she had Jacob try on brown velvet bell-bottoms and skintight silk shirts, scarves and big-framed sunglasses. Even a pair of red snakeskin platform boots. In the end, nothing quite fit and they left empty handed—except for the fact that her previously empty bags were now full.
“That, my dear Jake, is how you look like a millionaire on pennies a day.”
• • •
They headed her Capri up Page Mill and into the country. Aladdin Sane was blasting on the 8-track and they sang along to “Panic in Detroit.” The curving road took them to Foothill Park. “Cracked Actor” was on as they parked. They sang “suck, baby, suck, give me your head before you start professing that you’re knocking me dead” to each other as the lyrics hit. Jacob went full blush and looked out the window. A group of high school guys were playing football. A skinny kid about Jacob’s size got clotheslined, flipping into the air. Jacob would have traded places with the horizontal kid in an instant.
“Hey, Major Tom?” Candy said, touched his hand. It felt electric.
“I’m stepping through the door.”
“No, wait. Something I want to tell you, it’s important.”
“OK.” He didn’t dare look at her, get lost in those eyes and start babbling.
“I didn’t tell anyone. Not until I was sure.”
“Tell us what, you’re getting a sex change, going to be a guy and start dating Valentina?”
“Worse, I’m . . . I applied and got into Berkeley. I start in September. Art History,” Candy said.
“That’s fantastic, why hide it?”
“Wasn’t sure I was smart enough to get in. Now with Sam back, she needs me. I . . .”
“Just tell her, Candy. She’ll be proud.”
“She needs me for Taxi Dancer.”
“True. So it’s your encore show, right?”
“Let’s take a walk.” She led him down a path into a secluded dell. They sat on a fallen log. She fired up a joint and they smoked in silence. Feeling embolden by the pot, Jacob imagined pulling her into his arms, pressing his lips against hers.
“You are the brother I never had, you know?”
Spell broken, Jacob took a long toke.
“I didn’t want Sam getting you involved. She didn’t listen.”
“Fairness to her, I kinda blackmailed her, just a bit.”
“Still. Jake you are the brightest of us all. You just need some time to grow up and you will be brilliant. You got into Stanford. Your mom told me you got accepted. Full ride. You just have to not fuck up your last semester of high school. Five months.”
“I’m not leaving the crew hanging.”
“Then think about it as ‘what I did with my winter break.’ Then get back to school and show all those rich bitch legacy kids how we do it.”
“OK.”
“I want a pinky promise.” They linked little fingers. Jacob almost started blushing when he felt her heat. “Say it.”
“I promise—”
“No, pinky promise.”
“I pinky promise that when this job is done I will go back to school, go to Stanford and then come for you guns blazing.” The pot bravado again.
Candy shook his pinky and released it. She smiled at him for the briefest of moments then looked away. “We better get going.”
Jacob wanted to stay, wanted to take her in his arms, wanted to kiss her and never stop. “Yeah, I guess we better,” is what he said.
CHAPTER 10
* * *
“Does your mommy know you use language like this?” —Starsky & Hutch
The job was seven days out.
Sam and Jacob were searching a junkyard. A scruffy hellhound followed them, growling every once in awhile just to remind them that they could easily go from customers to dinner. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” an older black man said. “Unless he thinks you’re stealing. Then . . .”
“He bites?” Jacob smiled too broadly.
“Bites like a starved jackal. You ever seen a starved jackal?”
Jacob shook his head. “Nope.”
“Me neither, but I bet my life it gets real nasty for its prey.”
“Bet it does.”
For twenty tense minutes they searched up and down the aisles of stacked wrecks. The whole time the dog paced them. On tinny-sounding loudspeakers “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” was playing, a bluesy version done by The Temptations. Then came Stevie Wonder doing “Little Drummer Boy.”
“What’s with the music?” Sam asked.
“You really don’t know?”
“No, give.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.”
“No shit. Hmmm. The crew?”
“All home with their people.”
“We’re their people.”
“OK, families. They are with their families.”
“Even Terry?”
“Yeah, he’s with his mom.”
“Do you see that?” She pointed at a totaled 1967 Firebird.
“The plates are clean. It’s a Christmas miracle!”
“Yes it is, Tiny Tim.”
Ten minutes, a screwdriver, some solvent and six bucks and they were on their way.
• • •
“Wanna go to midnight mass?” Jacob said. “I hear St. Thomas has a killer organ player.” They were raised Jewish, but their moms loved Christmastime. They always had a tree and she would crash midnight mass. Not understanding Latin, they could imagine whatever they wanted.
“Moms blew it off. I think I’ll skip it too this year.”
“Sacrilege. What will the baby Jesus think when he opens his eyes and finds himself surrounded by goyim, not a Jew in sight? He’ll freak out.”
“The plaster baby will survive, I’m sure of it.”
At a liquor store, Sam bought eggnog, a pint of Bacardi 151 and a carton of Marlboro Reds. It was time for some serious chilling out.
They sat sixty feet above the ground, hanging their legs off the edge of one of the high-power towers that flanked the Creekside Apartments. They could see across the carpet of lights to the foothills and the dark mountains above. Sam poured out a quarter o
f the eggnog then refilled it with 151. She took a big gulp, smiled and handed the powerful concoction to Jacob. Never one to let his sister outdo him, he took an even deeper chug.
“That, Sam, is liquid Christmas cheer.”
“Yes, my brother, it is.”
“I got you a present.”
“What is it?”
“Open it and find out, weirdo.”
“I don’t like surprises, you know that.”
“That’s right.” Every Christmas Jacob had to raid their mom’s hiding place and report back to Sam. “That was odd at best, sister.”
“Remember when Grandpa taught me how to finesse a safe?”
“Yeah, said you had a gift. I was just another kid to him.”
“You were six when he got busted, do you remember it?”
“I don’t know if I do, or I just remember hearing about it. I think Moms told me about it to keep me out of the life.”
“Sounds like her. Our egghead momma’s boy.”
“Screw you. Do you really begrudge me my immense brain? And yes, ladies, it is massive.”
“Huge. But back to Grandpa. He came home after a nice day at the track and, wham-o, he was surprised by four cops. Told me never be surprised. Know what’s coming and always plan for three ways out.” She dropped the spent cigarette, which bounced off the girders showering sparks as it fell. “I was eight. The case fell apart for lack, but still it broke my heart when they took him. His words stuck.”
“Then I am sorry to give you this. It’s Mick Ronson’s Play Don’t Worry. Cool sound.” He tore away the wrapping paper and let it drift off on the wind. He handed her the 8-track. She looked at it for a long moment, then leaned over and kissed her brother’s cheek.
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” He took a long chug of the nog.
“If you could have anything, no holds barred?” Sam sparked a new cig.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Maybe, take a risk.”
Standing, he leaned out over the abyss, shouting into the wind that was picking up. “Candy. I want Candy.”
“Sit down. You can’t have her, she’s not a thing.”
“You know what I mean.” He plunked back down and took another chug of nog.
“No, I know what you said.”
“I want her to want me. Is that plain and simple enough?”
“That’s better. But she maybe already wants you. Every time I walk down the street a bunch of mooks want me. Don’t mean shit. I want one of them to get me. See me. You know, see but also see what’s under all these wonderful curves.” She was starting to slur her words just a bit.
“So, I want her to get me.”
“No, honestly, you want to bang her.”
“It’s not like that. OK, it is kinda like that, but more.”
“Do me a solid. Wait until we drain Taxi Dancer to act on all these feelings, OK?”
“OK, you got it.”
“I’m a little tipsy, brother.”
“You look hammered.”
“I will concede that point.”
A high-intensity beam of light swept the girders. It landed on Sam and Jacob like a vaudeville spotlight.
“You on the tower. You are trespassing on private property.” The voice sounded mechanical, coming from a lo-fi speaker. “Climb down now.”
“Easier said than done.” Sam blocked the light with her hand, trying to see who was behind the light.
“Come on, sis, we either climb down or start tap dancing.”
“I don’t know how to tap dance.”
“We could do the hustle.” Jacob moved his fists in a circle.
“I’d rather die from the fall.”
“Then down we go.”
Steel beam to steel beam they moved slowly down the tower. Halfway, Sam misstepped. Her arms were all that held her from the fall. Slowly she pulled herself up, and then did five more pull-ups just to show off.
“You’re an idiot.” Jacob smacked the back of her head.
“A strong idiot.”
It took thirty minutes to make it to terra firma. Detective Pahk stood silhouetted by the spotlight on the side of his unmarked car. “I could take you both in for endangering public safety, trespassing and six other misdemeanors.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Detective, what are you doing wasting taxpayer money pestering me and my brother?”
“I’m off duty.”
“Pathetic.” Sam stepped forward, Jacob hung back.
“I’m not the one trying to get themselves fried.”
“He has a point.”
“Shut up, Jake.”
“Jacob, you’re the smart one?”
“That is what they say.”
“Then why did you follow her up there?”
“The view is amazing. Would you like a drink?” Jacob held out what was left of the 151. Pahk thought about it, then took the bottle, indulging in a long gulp. He barely coughed. Nodding a thank you, he dropped it into his coat pocket.
“Too much paperwork bullshit.”
“Excuse me, Detective?” Sam asked.
“Why I’m not taking you in.”
“Then you must’ve come to wish us a Merry Christmas. Right, Detective?”
“Someone robbed a doctor’s house in Palo Alto. When going over the case an old partner of mine noticed the safe had been cracked so he called me.”
“I have an alibi.”
“I didn’t say when it was, but you have an alibi?”
“Yep, was here playing dreidel with my little brother. You got a witness says different?”
“Look, little girl, play wiseass all you want, I’m on to you.”
“You need to get a life.” She walked past him. Jacob started to follow but Pahk caught his arm.
“Smart boy, it’s time to act smart. Don’t be around your sister when she goes down, or you’re going with her.”
“Solid advice, sir.”
“You mocking me?”
“No, sir. Seems to me, smart one that I am, that my sister hasn’t done anything and you are obsessed with her. Hassling us on Christmas Eve could look a lot like harassment to someone with more jaded eyes than mine.”
“This really how you want to play it, kid?”
“Like my sister said, you need to get a life.” Jacob walked away, leaving Pahk leaning against his car.
• • •
In the apartment, Jacob found the lights out. Sam was watching the detective from behind a curtain.
“Do you think he knows it was us? He couldn’t, right?”
“He’s trying to rattle us, that’s all,” Sam said.
“Um, it’s kinda working. Why us?”
“I don’t know.” Sam kept her face turned away from her brother.
“Truth? You don’t know?”
“That is what I said.”
“OK. Why didn’t you tell me about finessing the safe?”
“Because brother of mine, I didn’t.” Sam looked him straight on. “The lying doc must have forgot to mention he left the combination under his blotter. AMA frowns on doctors not keeping their scripts better protected.”
“Is no one honest anymore?”
“Just you and me, pal.”
“But only to each other.”
“There is that.”
• • •
After twenty minutes, Detective Pahk finally drove off. Sam and Jacob curled up on the couch wrapped in blankets.
“Weird not having Moms here. How you taking it, kid?”
“We’re Jews, OK?”
“Nominally, but go on.”
“So this whole Christmas deal was Mom’s. She wants to spend the winter break in Cabo with our lawyer, power to her. Me? Other than an excuse to get you some music I can listen to in your car, it don’t mean shit. Just another day.”
“You sound pissed, little brother.”
“I’m not. What I am is shitty faced.”
&nbs
p; Sam knew it was more. She could see how hard it had been for Jacob to be the smart one, the family’s hope of going straight. “Why are you so good at school?”
“I’m a smart motherfucker.” That was a part of the truth. The rest he kept to himself. Doing what is expected is all it took to get good grades, no matter what new school he was thrown into. Growing up, Jacob hadn’t fit in anywhere, not really. In a family of thieves you never let your guard down in public, never shared any truth about yourself. When asked what you did with your summer vacation you made shit up. Terry was the one person who really knew Jacob. At home he was the family’s great hope. He wasn’t supposed to follow in his father’s or grandfather’s footsteps. He was on uncharted ground.
Sam didn’t tell Jacob she was just as lost. Didn’t tell him their father had made her promise to get out of the life. A promise she was breaking to protect the family.
“Do you miss Pops?” Jacob asked, as if he had been reading her mind.
“Yeah, all the time.”
“When he wasn’t on a losing streak and moody, he was a great guy.”
“Yes, he was.”
• • •
Christmas morning exploded in on Sam like a million shards of happy piercing her fragile, hungover head. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay, my oh my what a wonderful day.” Moms was home from Mexico, and singing up a storm.
“The hell you say?” Sam grumbled.
“You didn’t think I would miss Christmas.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, Samantha?”
“You know we’re Jewish, and I’m in deep pain.”
“To point one, so what? To point two, I brought you a mimosa.” Their mother, Esther, was short. She was curvy in her day, now slipping into round. More than anything she was a cheerful steamroller. If she said they were having Christmas, they were having it. While Esther went to wake Jacob, Sam ate a couple tabs of Ritalin she’d taken from the good doctor’s house. She gulped them down with the mimosa.
Ten minutes, Sam’s eyes popped open. The speed and the realization she hadn’t cleaned the apartment hit at the same time. Were guns sitting on the coffee table? Where was her plan book? Her mother wasn’t stupid, she knew what a heist in progress looked like. Fuck.
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