The Big Bamboo

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The Big Bamboo Page 22

by Tim Dorsey


  ’ ”

  Serge couldn’t continue. He hugged Coleman and bawled on his shoulder. “How could he do that? It was just an innocent animal!

  ”

  Coleman patted him on the back. “Easy, buddy

  ”

  Serge sniffled and raised his head. The two men were creeping down the boat toward him. Serge aimed his gun. “That’s no way to build trust.”

  Ten minutes later Serge recognized an outcropping on the coastline. He cut the engine three hundred yards from shore. The boat bobbed silently as the fog began to lift.

  “This is what it’s all about,” said Serge. “I may be a fool for the city, but you gotta air out the ol’ melon from time to time or you’ll explode

  ” His ears perked up. “Listen

  I think they’re on the way.”

  “Who’s on the way?” asked Coleman.

  “This is a seal watch.” Serge restarted the engine. “Did some online research with the Sierra Club to locate their colonies. They live right over there on those rocks.”

  “I don’t see them,” said Coleman.

  “Morning feeding time. It’s amazing how you can practically set your watch by nature.”

  “Is that them over there?” said Coleman.

  “Way to be alert.” Serge throttled over as quietly as he could, gauging a vector parallel to shore. He cut the engine again and stood up. “This is it, guys. End of the line.” He motioned with his gun. “Into the water.”

  They looked over the side at the dark sea.

  “Your call,” said Serge. “There’s the shore. I can shoot, or you can try to swim for it. You look pretty buoyant—”

  Two big splashes before he could finish the sentence. But instead of swimming for land, the men faced the boat and treaded water, expecting maybe Serge would shoot them anyway.

  Coleman pointed at the oncoming mass of seals. “What are they hunting for?”

  “Little fish.”

  The two men kept dog-paddling, focused on the disturbance in the waves coming toward them. One of them called up to Serge: “Do they ever hurt people?”

  “Never,” said Serge. “Although they could. Some are over six feet and very agile underwater, while others prefer basketball and musical instruments.”

  “Look at ’em go,” said Coleman. “They sure move fast when they’re hunting.”

  “They’re not hunting anymore. They’re running.”

  “Running?”

  “The magnificent balance of the food chain. They go out for breakfast, and bigger stuff comes looking for them. That would be those tall fins over there.”

  “Poor seals,” said Coleman.

  “Don’t worry,” said Serge, peeling the lid off his pails and dumping bloody chum over the side. “They’re very fast and wily. Rarely get caught

  ” The two men suddenly began swimming as fast as they could for shore. “

  Except once in a while, an injured seal falls behind the pack

  ”

  Coleman popped a beer. “Or something mistaken for a seal?”

  Terrible screams off the starboard side. The water boiled with thrashing.

  Serge pull-started the engine. “That’s why you never, ever swim at dawn with the seals. And definitely not in a black wet suit.”

  The screaming ended and the sea became still again. Serge began motoring south. Coleman lay back against the inflatable bow, admiring the sunrise. “I never realized nature was so beautiful.”

  “But she can also be a cruel mistress.”

  ** Chapter 28

  THE STANDARD HOTEL , ROOM 222

  The phone was ringing when they came in the door.

  Serge picked it up. “Hello?

  Oh, hi, Tori

  . We were just talking about you

  ”

  Coleman turned on the television, surfing for porn. A local channel caught his eye.

  “

  Of course we’re in the room. Where else would we be?

  Ally’s fine

  ”

  Coleman pointed at the set. “Hey, Serge. There’s something about us on TV.”

  Serge waved for him to be quiet. “

  No, nothing unusual

  ”

  Coleman turned up the volume. A reporter with a microphone stood on the Walk of Fame. “

  Ms. Street doesn’t yet have her own star on this famous boulevard, but you wouldn’t know it from the sidewalk vendors doing brisk business in Ally gear

  Excuse me, sir

  ” The reporter approached a kiosk next to the Roosevelt Hotel. “What are your bestsellers?”

  “The RUN! ALLY! RUN! shirts and keychains.”

  “What does Ally mean to you personally?”

  “She’s my role model.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because of everything she represents.”

  Serge paced with the phone. “

  Well, I’m glad you’re checking to make sure we’re in the room. Just shows you’re responsible

  ”

  Coleman tugged Serge’s arm and pointed at the set. The reporter stopped two tourists walking down the sidewalk in matching Ally shirts: You Shop, Girl!

  “And what do you think about the Ally Street case?”

  “It’s so exciting knowing she’s out there. It’s like she’s doing this for all of us.”

  “She’s such an inspiration,” added her friend.

  Serge paced in front of the set. “

  No, I didn’t take any offense. It’s your job to check

  In fact, I’m getting to like this room. I don’t want to leave

  You don’t have to apologize— I didn’t take it that way

  Right

  Right

  Of course

  ”— Serge rolled his eyes—“

  Yep

  Right

  You got it

  Peace. Out

  ”

  Coleman cracked a beer and changed channels with the remote.

  Serge slammed the phone down. “All the women in my life! You try to be polite, but they still talk to you.”

  “Hey, Serge. We’re on this other channel, too.”

  “What do you mean ‘too’?”

  “Our vacation movie.”

  “I’ll be,” said Serge. “They picked up the pilot.”

  “You were right after all.”

  “Now we’re in a serious jam.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They’re going to want at least thirteen episodes.” Serge grabbed his video camera. “We have to get cracking.”

  The door to the hall opened.

  Serge pulled Ally back inside. “Don’t start again.”

  “I quit.”

  “What do you mean, you quit?”

  “I’m not doing this anymore. Find someone else. I had no idea when Tori first asked me

  ”

  Serge pursed his lips in distress and emitted a shrill whine. “I thought you’d decided to cooperate.”

  “But there’s no end in sight. It just gets weirder and weirder. I’m out of here.” She reached for the knob again.

  “Get away from that door.”

  “You can’t make me stay.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  VISTAMAX STUDIOS

  Two men and a woman walked down the main corridor of the props warehouse.

  “I just talked to them,” said Tori. “You’ll feel much better.”

  “What’d they say?” asked Ian.

  “I’ll tell you when we get in the closet

  ”

  Two workers sprinted past them.

  “They sure were going fast,” said Tori.

  “We keep them on their toes,” said Mel.

  Several more employees went flying by. Tori watched them dart into the break room. “Is it always like this around here?”

  Before the brothers could answer, they noticed more and more people dashing in from all directions, converging on the break room.

  “Wonder what’s going on,” said Ian.

  “Let’s find out.”

  The trio headed over and joined the crowd spilling out the break room’s doorway.

 
“What going on?” Mel asked someone in back. The man pointed up at the wall-mounted TV on the other side of the room that everyone was watching.

  Everywhere in metropolitan Los Angeles, the same scene: people surrounding TVs in bars, offices, the electronics sections of department stores, where walls of fifty sets were all on the same channel, playing the same tape over and over. CNN got the uplink and the nation began watching.

  In a Fort Lauderdale retirement home, Coltrane grabbed Chi-Chi by the arm. “Come quick! They’re on TV!”

  “Who’s on TV?”

  The pair entered the dayroom. Twenty seniors were already crowded around an old Magnavox. A harried anchorwoman was talking offscreen. “Are we ready with that again?

  Okay

  ” She turned to the camera. “We have breaking news to report in the Ally Street abduction case. Within the last hour CNN has received shocking hostage video from our sister station in Los Angeles. A word of caution: The footage is being aired unedited and may upset certain viewers

  ”

  The image switched to two men sitting with panty hose on their heads. The thin one held index cards. The fat one had a foam circle over his mouth, where he’d been drinking beer through the nylon mesh. The backdrop was a white bedsheet with big, black letters: CRAZY ABOUT MOVIES!

  “Good evening,” said the thin one. “This is our first show and boy are we excited! We’re crazy about movies!”

  The fat one raised his beer. “Movies. Wooooo!”

  “Since this is our debut, I thought we’d start at the top. Citizen Kane. We rented it from Blockbuster last month, and it gets better every time. Welles said so much with so little, like the ironic emptiness of that dinner with his wife in the third act, not to mention those exquisite gradations of black-and-white cinematography that we’d see explored further in The Third Man. An absolute masterpiece. What did you think?”

  “Great film,” said Coleman. “I was really fucked up. Started with Old English Eight-Hundred and switched to wine. Also got into these sticky buds from Gainesville with the furry orange fibers that tell you to get all your shit in one sack ’cause it’s going to blow your eyeballs out! Then the wine made me sick, and I got wedged between the toilet and the wall. Later, I woke up and freed myself and rejoined you on the couch just before the credits. All in all, one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.”

  “I give it five stars.”

  “Four and a half,” said Coleman. “Almost a five, but what was the deal with the fuckin’ sled?”

  “Next, the segment of our show called ‘Mr. Peabody’s WayBack Machine.’ The 1970s were an utter waste of ten years in virtually every respect: socially, musically, politically. Except for Hollywood, which gave us the Second Golden Age of Film: Patton, The Godfather, The French Connection, Cabaret, The Sting, Rocky, Annie Hall, American Graffiti, The Exorcist. I get dizzy just thinking about it

  Your thoughts?”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” said Coleman. “The seventies ruled! Mainly because there were no video stores. And each weekend all the heads would go to the midnight rock concert movie. Gimme Shelter, Let It Be, The Song Remains the Same, Concert for Bangladesh, The Last Waltz. Everyone in the whole theater was baked! Remember when you could get a four-finger bag for twenty bucks? The potency was lower, but at those prices! Then we’d kick back and watch Jagger jump around in that Uncle Sam hat. He was baked, too. It was a special time.”

  “Thank you—”

  “Almost forgot about the Pink Floyd laser show at the planetarium

  ”

  “That’s not a movie.”

  “I know, but we were baked.”

  “Which brings us to the special guest portion of our program.” Serge dragged a third chair into view. “And tonight we have with us a very special guest, the star of the upcoming Vistamax release, All That Glitters

  ” He stood, turned offscreen and began applauding. “Ally Street! Come on out here!

  ”

  Serge kept applauding. “Ally Street, folks!

  Ally, come on, we’re filming

  ” Serge’s applause dwindled. Coleman leaned forward and looked to the side to see what was taking so long.

  “Ally! Get out here right now! Don’t make me come over there!

  Okay if that’s the way you want it

  ” Serge whipped a giant gun from his pants and marched off the right side of the screen. A moment later, Ally walked into the picture with an arm twisted behind her back.

  “Let go! You’re hurting me!”

  Serge shoved her down in a chair and took the next seat. He stuck the gun back in his pants. “Ally, you look great! What have you been doing with yourself? I mean, besides making an incredible movie!”

  Ally folded her arms in protest.

  Serge took a deep breath. “Seeing anyone?”

  Ally secretly slipped a piece of hotel stationery from her pocket. She unfolded it and held it up for the camera: HELP!

  “Gimme that!” said Serge, balling up the piece of paper. “Always kidding around. So what’s new in Ally World?”

  Defiance.

  Serge chuckled nervously at the camera and tapped an index card on his knee. “I understand you’ve had some excitement in your life. Want to tell us about it?”

  Ally shot him a disgusted look. “What are you, some kind of idiot?”

  “I just go by the cards,” said Serge. “They mentioned something about a kidnapping. I’ll bet our audience would love to hear about it.”

  “Screw you! Okay? Screw you and your stupid friend. I’m out of here!” Ally got up and walked off camera.

  “That’s not how Hepburn handled success!”

  A woman’s hand appeared from the edge of the screen and threw a beverage in Serge’s face. He smiled at the camera as drops rolled onto his chest. “What do you know? Our first show and already something for the highlight reel.”

  Serge jumped up and ran offscreen.

  “Get back out there!”

  “Take your hands off me!”

  “I can’t believe I fucked you! You don’t even know the current vice president!”

  “Let go!”

  “You owe it to your fans!—”

  The tape went black.

  ** Chapter 29

  THE STANDARD HOTEL

  Serge grabbed the ringing phone in room 222.

  “

  Hi, Tori. Hey! You’ll never guess! We were on—

  You already saw it? Wasn’t it great!

  Oh

  But I thought you’d like—

  I see

  I see

  Stop shouting. I can’t understand—

  But we didn’t leave the room. We filmed the whole thing inside—

  But you didn’t say that

  No, you never said that

  What do you mean, ‘I shouldn’t have to’?

  Look, if you can’t speak the language with precision, you shouldn’t go blaming—

  You’re shouting again

  ”

  Coleman cracked his third beer of the morning and emptied half in his first guzzle. While waiting for the burp, he read the side of the can like a cereal box.

  Serge hung up the phone.

  “Serge, you ever read beer cans?”

  “I already know the plot.”

  “Says they won gold medals in Helsinki, Munich and Amsterdam. The last was 1903.” Coleman giggled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “What if they won the medals for, like, the javelin? You know: ‘Whoops. Sorry about that!’ ”

  Serge didn’t answer.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Coleman. “You don’t look happy.”

  “Tori’s mad at me again.”

  Coleman took another chug. “What’s new?”

  “This time she might have a point. I mean, she has been really nice, giving us this job.” He stood.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to think of a way to make it up,” said Serge. “Something special that lets her know how much we think of her.”

  “Like what?”

  He slapped the top of the TV.
“I’ve got it!” He grabbed a magazine and some scissors.

  Coleman looked over his buddy’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “Starting the ransom note.”

  “But we already got paid.”

  Snip, snip. “This isn’t about getting paid. It’s about showing Tori we care.” Snip, snip.

  “But doesn’t she keep telling us not to draw attention to ourselves?”

  “Exactly,” said Serge. “That’s the thing about rules. You have to look for the reason behind them. Tori doesn’t want us to do anything because the police might suspect her more. So that’s why we have to do something. The note will divert suspicion away from her. What do you think?”

  “You’re very thoughtful.”

  “She’s going to be so surprised!” Snip, snip, snip

  Coleman settled in to watch some tube. The day wore on. Coleman was surfing through the low numbers when he caught a local station. “Serge, we’re on again

  ”

  Serge snipped through a glossy page. “A rerun?”

  “No, the second episode.”

  “Told you we’d get a series.” Snip, snip.

  “Serge, I don’t think it’s a series. The anchorwoman just said they were showing it for people to phone in tips to the police.”

  Serge stopped cutting and stared at Coleman. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Tearing me down.”

  “I’m not. That’s what they said on TV.”

  “Listen, our show isn’t about any one person. This doesn’t need to get ugly like Simon and Garfunkel.”

  Coleman shrugged and fired up a fattie. “How’s the note coming?”

  “Try finding a Q.”

  On TV in the background, two men wearing panty hose: “

  Our latest demands for the release of Ally Street

  One: no more sports movies where during the climactic game someone connected to the team is cheering from a hospital bed

  Two: ‘Born to Be Wild’ banned from soundtracks about dickless suburbanites

  Three: no more ‘Judge’ shows. What’s with the chick always dragging in her loud, fat-ass best friend to yell at the guy that the loan of a month’s rent was really a gift? That’s not in my Constitution

 

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