Love Lucky

by Van Quattro

  I can hear the telly or something upstairs so I call up to her asking if she wants coffee. She says yes and I press her a cup of proud coffee. The news channel is talking about all the events planned for the day and night. I can feel the Holiday excitement in my body. New things.

  “Now listen Van. I have thought about last night and I think you should go to this party tonight. I am sorry I didn’t ask you to go properly but you don’t need to be at a stuffy dinner. You need to shine, my dear.”

  “You sure? Because I’ll…”

  “Yes, yes, no, you go and enjoy yourself with Ruth. She is hoot, you will have so much fun and you’re leaving in a day and a half so I implore you to go.”

  “You implore me? I have never been implored before. Jill, look at me, you’re sure?”

  “Yes, you wanker now stop and let’s enjoy our day. What shall we do? Want to take a little picnic to Hyde Park.”

  “Hell yeah! It’s chilly.”

  “So, we will bundle up.”

  We stop at a deli and pick up some fresh chicken, cheese, crackers and wine. We only get one bottle I want two but feel okay knowing that later I will be able to have all the booze I want. We find a park bench and set the table. From where we are I can see Ava and Charles places. I wonder what they are up to this day. I nibble, sip and enjoy the scattered cotton candy sky. I am open to everything, the birds, the still chill, the random car that passes and the soft eyes of Jill. We don’t talk but there is peace, like some kind of deal we’ve arranged but never discussed. We grace this phase of our new world. I feel all full and important somehow, with God or something, though not better than anybody else.

  The chill becomes uncomfortable so we decide to leave. I drive her car. She has a 1980 Triumph and I dig the hell out of it- steering on the right side, and all the roads are reversed here. I make every wrong turn I can so I can keep driving. Jill is in a good mood so she laughs at my obvious attempts to prolong the drive. I find all the roundabouts and attack them like Steve McQueen. We do this for near an hour then head home.

  I crank up the heater and polish off the bottle of wine and man I am feeling downright snuggly. I make an advance toward Jill and she responds openly. We make love, even though saying make love sounds weird to me. I say it anyway because the other words don’t sound right. I feel a giving in and a softness about me that I can’t understand. It’s good though, easy and okay.

  We finish and Jill whispers in my ear,

  “I’m going to miss you so much.” And I finally say the thing I want to ask anyone near me,

  “Why? I am such a fuckup, a nothing.”

  “You are the best man I have ever met.” I don’t say anything. I stop myself. I want to let this soak in for a minute. Deep, deep, deep, down I have felt that I can be a good person. Even if I’m not a good man now, I can some day be one. I have no idea how. I mean, I have trouble making it through the day, but still it lives. So I say,

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “I do,” she says. We nap on a lazy afternoon.

  The phone ringing wakes us. It ‘s Ruth to tell Jill she will send a car round to get me at eight o’clock. Let’s see, it’s six now so I will start to strategically drink after a cup of coffee. Jill asks me what I am going to wear and I don’t have a clue. I figure something smart like my suit? She tells me no way, this is not a party to wear a suit to and I should be daring.

  “I don’t have anything daring. I have some red socks but that’s all.”

  “Let me dress you, my dear.” She pulls out some pants from deep in her closet. One pair is bright shiny gold.

  “I like those.” I take them from her.

  “I have no idea why I have these. Here put them on.” I put them on and they are just a little short in the legs but otherwise fit well and I like them. I plan on getting really fucked up anyway so I can pull it off.

  “What do you think?” I ask her as she smiles a big one.

  “I think they look fun.”

  “I like them. They don’t look crazy stupid?”

  “No they look bold, and you are beautiful enough to pull them off.”

  “Good. I’m wearing them, ‘cause I am beautiful.”

  She goes back to the closet and pull out some shirts. I quickly run to the bathroom and grab some Valium from the cabinet. You never know. Ha. Jill holds up a black sweater type turtleneck, and I dig the hell out of it. She hands it to me.

  “I think this was John’s. We bought it in the Alps. It’s yours if you want it. It looks jolly good with those gold pantaloons.”

  I check myself out and it does rock. I am a cross between David Bowie and Rod Stewart. Plus, I have a sweater thing that used to belong to Osborne. It’s settled, I am wearing gold and black with red socks and black shoes and maybe some far out scarf if we can find one.

  “Hey, who is going to be at this party dinner you’re going to?”

  “Oh just some old friends you don’t know them.”

  “Is that Misha dude going to be there?”

  “No, he is in Spain.”

  “Oh, he’s in Spain is he? Well who’s going to be there?”

  “Not to worry, it’s all couples except for me. I am the cog.”

  “Me too, we will be separate cogs, perhaps we’ll find each other and cog each other?”

  “I doubt it my dear. We will be world apart tonight.”

  “Oh well…I can dream.” I openly make myself a very strong drink. It’s New Years Eve officially.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask feeling like James Bond.

  “Just a small one.”

  “A small drink for the Lady from Chelsea. Or should I say Pussy Galore?”

  “Oh dear…you would make a wonderful Bond.”

  “My name is Bond, James Bond.” I had to say it. I also give my best phony suave look.

  “Oh my dear, that is so good.” I hand her the puny drink.

  “Cheers. Happy New Years Jill.”

  “Happy New Years, Van. Cheers.” I go in and give her a big kiss, and we hug.

  “I won’t see you at midnight but I want you to know I’ll be kissing the stars thinking of you.”

  “That is so sweet darling…just make sure the stars you’re kissing are the ones in the sky.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There will be many important people there tonight. People from all different backgrounds.”

  “You mean like actor’s and stuff too?”

  “Van, you are so naive aren’t you?”

  “Why do you say that? Why don’t you come to the party after your dinner?”

  “Oh no, I don’t go for that kind of thing. Plus, all my exes will probably be there.” I am now thinking this thing is going to be fucking crazy awesome. I’m good with her coming but without her I can really bust out, and I really need that now because I’m going to be on my own soon.

  She gets ready for her thing and I follow her around to all the various getting ready stations with a fresh drink in my hand. I put Sgt. Pepper’s on her cassette and we sing together. I love this and I love her and her friend Ruth and Ava (Hi AVA, where ever you are), and Charles and Brian, (sorry about your apartment Brian, I will make it up to you), and my mom (sorry I didn’t get to come to your heart surgery but I’m glad you made it), and Greg and Whammy and the whole damn world. I’d like to buy the world a coke. I really would.

  Ruth should get here in about an hour and I want to get two more drinks in before so I pound ‘em back. Jill is happy as a clam. We are like Tracy and Hepburn as we chat and sing together.

  The time draws near so I stand at the front door drinking while Jill rushes about upstairs.

  “Let me know when she is here, my dear.”

  “Okee Dokee.” I am a fucking love publisher tonight. It’s a good night to be with the world.

  I see lights stream across the street and stop. I hear a car door so I open the front door and see a chauffeur standing in front of me.

  “Jill they’r
e here.”

  “I’m coming.” A window opens from the long black car and Ruth calls.

  “Hello Van, what’s that you’re wearing?” My body starts to get all shamey and my head tells me I am a fucking looser.

  “OH…it’s…” I say with my red face.

  “You look marvelous! You will be the talk of the party.” Hell yeah baby, life is so weird, finally my big break is here. Jill comes to the door with curlers in her hair.

  “Hello darling.” She waves to Ruth.

  “Hello Jill my love, you look wonderful.”

  “Well, I suppose, ha, ha. Okay my love have a woooonderffuul time and I’ll see you later in the wee hours.” We kiss. I gulp and head to my limo.

  This car is huge and it’s only Ruth and I. It feels like some spaceship cave. Guess what I see? Halleluiah, God is smart. There is a bar and she’s drinking. I don’t wait to be offered, I pour my usual glass full. She tells me everything is free tonight because people paid up to five hundred pounds to get a ticket. Food, booze everything. Damn, five hundred a ticket? Holy shit, what I could do with that much money. I would take Jill on a vacation or something.

  The music playing is? Guess? Frank Sinatra, and he is whispering about leaving someone softly. This song would kill me when I was younger. My dad played Frank all the time and when, ‘Softly’ would come on I would start to cry. I still do sometimes. It’s not a sobbing cry, but a deep contained sadness regarding love and loss. My eyes would water with joy, also with the warmth of knowing how profound love can be and that somehow it just has to survive death to exist on an even greater level. Oh man, like I said, death has to have love beyond. I begin singing with the simple beauty of the song.

  “For my heart would break, if you should wake and see me go.”

  “Van, you have a wonderful voice.”

  “Thanks, my brothers and I used to have Frank singing contests in our bedroom when my dad would play him at his shooting pool parties.”

  “That’s wonderful. It paid off for you because you sound just like him.”

  Ha, that’s awesome. My older brother used to think he was so cool and that he always won. Well fuck that, this is the real world and I win.

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you an actor, Van? You seem like you would be a natural.”

  “Uh…yeah I am, and when I come back I’m going to have an agent.”

  “I’m sure you are brilliant.”

  “Thanks.” You hear that anybody? I am brilliant, so fuck you.

  I’m looking out the window and I can’t recognize anything outside. It’s all commercial buildings but I sense we are near the river.

  We pull up to this huge warehouse. Workers are adjusting some big multi colored spotlights.

  “We’re early Van, simply because this is my party and have to make sure everything is fab. Now you do not have to hang around me all night, just go and do your own thing. You’ll find someone to enjoy, but if you need me find someone with a walkie talkie and have them contact me.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Hey Ruth, what kind of people are going to be here? I mean, like occupations.”

  “Oh all kinds. Politicians, artists, business people. There will be many people from the entertainment field, I’ll need to introduce you to them.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  We enter the building through an open loading door. David Bowie’s, Diamond Dogs, album is blasting and it amps me. I begin to dance a bit, testing out my fun meter. It’s fine. I am ready. People move quickly all around me, bringing last minute decorations, statues, plants, and lighting stuff. There is so much booze stacked up next to me I’m thinking maybe the place will flood if it all breaks. That would be fine, I’ll just swim in it.

  The main room is incredible. There are different levels built all around the space, some hang over the floor level. They are painted all palace fancy to represent balconies. Three chandeliers the size of Volkswagens hang from the ceiling. The floor has hundreds of tables while all the other levels have real new furniture. Three walls are painted in gold and silver metallic. Fuck yes, they match my pants. The other wall is a British flag. There are laser type lights, spinning globes, and a huge net with thousands of balloons in it. The middle of the floor is a big round dance area with thirty mirrors, the size of doors, suspended from the ceiling covering it. I counted them. There must be twenty full bars scattered about. I make a mental note of their whereabouts. Ha. There are many food stations as well. I figure I should put a little food in my stomach so I can maintain my high. I choose the stuffed mushrooms and they are delicious. I have to use some kinda will power to not eat a whole goddamn tray. I know they would bloat me and compromise my high so I don’t, promising myself I will gorge later. I get another drink and survey the room for vantage points. I want to be able to see as many people at a time as possible. The bartender tells me they are opening the doors at nine o’clock, which is in a half an hour. I can’t wait for this to get underway. Bowie is still blaring and I’m exploring around, charged up by the music. This place reminds me of a more cultured Vegas. They test the lighting system by turning out all the lights and putting on the lasers and all the other specialty lights. I feel like I’m in a rock show. This is a perfect start from a perfect day to a perfect night to a perfect year.

  People are now filing in and they are dressed like mannequins from some fancy department store I’d feel too cruddy to even go in. I start to feel like a dumb runt but I remember what Jill says about me, and Ruth and Charles, and Ava rubbing on my head. I don’t think she would rub just any one’s head. I start to feel good again. ‘Hey motherfuckers see if Ava will rub your perfect head.’ This even makes me crack up.

  The joint is filling up quickly and there are some real amazing looking women here. A bunch don’t seem to be with men either but that doesn’t matter to me really because I am here to just have a good time.

  I chain smoke when I’m really buzzed. Fuck, I don’t know what the hell I’d do with my hands if I don’t have a cigarette and a drink in them. I’d probably eat them.

  I go back down to the floor level to check people out. I’m digging my gold pants and nobody is looking at me too weird so I figure I’m cool.

  The song, ‘Avalon,’ by Roxy Music is playing, I grab some lady to dance. She is totally up for it. Oh my, this is feeling great. What a release. Lots of people are on the dance floor with us, unison in tunison. Ha. My gold legs lash and spit and split the floor with true emotion and desire. Desire should be celebrated and it is so much better with a bunch of people around. Ha, I stay on the dance floor for over two hours. I’m sweating like a dripping, love drenched soul singer. When one partner leaves I quickly ask another. My weirdo trigger has a safety on it tonight, so the ladies accept.

  We jam to Tom Tom Club, more Bowie, Duran Duran (I keep moving but I’m not really in to them), Stones, Madness, Clash, Tom Petty and many more of my liking. I can’t leave the floor, my body won’t stop moving. I don’t even need a partner.

  I am so goddamned satisfyingly exhausted I need a break. I am digging myself a lot right now. Show me a man more passionate than me out here and I’ll kiss him on the lips.

  I need a drink I think, or something. Man I am wobbly weary. I’m standing on the edge of the dance floor, my body is slumped over like a question mark and I fire up a smoke. I love everyone.

  Fuck it, I’m going to have another tall drink. It’ll either keep me going or drown me. Hey, a dude has to be brave and take a chance. With my drink I also throw back a couple a Valium. Getting ready to chill for a bit I climb the stairs to the mountaintop for a rest, kick back on a fine couch and take in the view of this splendid celebration. Viva La something!

  I feel like a dishcloth that needs to be wrung out. I drain my drink quickly and some of it comes back up, the way Quaaludes do if you take too many at once. I am strong though. I know how to handle this. I wait, hope I don’t hurl, and then re-swallow.

  Down in the crowd I spot
a woman, a girl, a lady, a fox, an angel, ‘a beautiful lightening bolt,’ as they say in, The Godfather.

  We lock eyes. We stare our long curious gaze in to a smile. I don’t have the energy to get up otherwise I would run to her. Maybe she senses this because she’s heading up my way. I try to avoid staring at her, but I am silly fucking willy captivated. Wonders of the world what is happening? She sits right next to me and there is no fuss or pretentious posturing from either of us. For a minute I worry about my drenched rat appearance but she’s making it easy to surrender all that stuff.

  “Hi,” I say looking directly at her as if I know her. Man I don’t even want to say this but she looks like she is sent from God, and God sometimes sends me shit. She has a grace, whatever that truly means I don’t know, but right now it means she is not in this room. She is quiet beyond the sounds and distractions and it settles me as well. Her brown hair falls around her shoulders and it gives her the look of a California girl. Her complexion is fair and her features aren’t exotic or sexy or anything, just goddamn perfect. Her body is perfect. She wears a white dress, not a gown or anything like, untouchable, but something as carefree and beautiful as she is. But let me tell you, in every way she is doing the dress a favor.

  “Hello.” She offers me her hand. I touch it and gently hold it. Her voice is like a drop of honey on my mangled heart.

  “I am Van.”

  “Hello Van, my name is Deirdre.” She has a very smooth English accent like it’s contoured for my soul. Ahhhh, I love her or something.

  “Hi.”

  “Where you from Van.”