by Jeri Estes
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
I pulled out three fat envelopes of cash and put them on the bar. Like a lizard catching a fly, he made the envelopes instantly disappear behind the counter. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked me dead on.
“What’s the tip for?”
“One’s for Little Rosie, one is for Junior, and you can keep the chump change. Plus, I got a little favor to ask. Junior’s running the TL for now and I want you to keep an eye out for her.”
“Taking a vacation?”
“I’m getting out of the TL for a while.”
“You should get when the getting’s good. No one makes it out of the TL alive.”
“They never thought we’d get to the moon and we just did,” I replied.
“The surface of the moon is a much friendlier environment.”
I gave him a mock salute for the stab at humor. “That’s pretty funny, but I would stick to my day job, old man.”
“Don’t press your luck, chick.”
I smiled and said, “You got that right. I’m out of here.”
In a few minutes, Joe and I were cruising over the Golden Gate Bridge. Against the backdrop of the wind-tossed channel that ran beneath us, pleasure boats and cargo ships shared the waves. Approaching the off ramp marking the exit to paradise, the large freeway sign read: South Sausalito - Mill Valley.
Traveling on a road that ran along the sea, I viewed the quaint, exquisitely gorgeous little town nestled at the bottom of rolling hills. The sidewalks were dotted with happy tourists and the regular affluent residents of the coastal resort town. Passing hamburger stands, elegant restaurants and charming retail shops, my eyes rested on an empty little jewelry store. The script across its window read: “Carmen’s Fine Jewelry of Sausalito.”
Veering off the Main Street fairway, Joe cruised up a winding hill. Delicate wildflowers shared the landscape with towering eucalyptus trees shading the road. The tires slowed over the graveled dirt driveway that led to a huge locked gate. The fence was smothered with brilliant bougainvillea and honeysuckle vines, surrounding the private property.
Joe unlocked the gate and we proceeded toward a sleepy, lone cottage at the end of the drive.
I gazed at the open meadow, filled with colors, overlooking a bluff that faced the open sea. The waves crashing below sang with a perpetual soothing rhythm. Joe pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the wooden porch. Making his way up the steps, Joe and his shotgun took a seat in his favorite lounge chair. I pulled the house key out of my pocket, where it shared its space with my trusted Playboy lighter. As I opened the front door, filtered sunlight and Aretha Franklin’s tunes filled the safe little haven.
I hung my fedora on the wooden peg in the entrance hall and entered a cheerful kitchen with black and white tile and a baby blue counter top. Above the sink was a window dressed with white lace curtains. In the fridge, a six-pack of Schlitz sat squished between a variety of foods. Grabbing a beer, I headed toward the master bedroom.
As I entered, Carmen’s cheerful voice met my happy gaze.
“Welcome home, Jesse.”
“You’re looking good, baby doll.”
She still wasn’t strong enough to get up on her own, so she waited for my hello kiss, resting against a pile of pillows in beige silk pajamas. It was nice to have her home after the touch and go nightmare of her being in ICU for three weeks. The bullet that tore through her lung and exited her back had left a hole gushing blood. Thanks to the quick thinking of Miss Zada and Miss Penny, the queens had quickly stopped the flow, using their falsies as bandages, applying pressure till they could get her to the ER. Pints of blood later, along with the gift of talented physicians, Carmen survived a collapsed lung and a great loss of blood.
Her new life could begin in the safety of her old one ending with a certified death certificate, cheerfully signed by Chang’s personal physician. Captain Clancy, Phillip III and the newspapers complied with the headline:
“Two women fatally shot at Compton’s.”
I sat down beside my girl, held her hand and watched the sailboats glide over the blue.
“Well, you did it Jesse. You got me out of the TL. The only catch is, you didn’t tell me it would be in an ambulance.”
Sheepishly I replied, “Yeah, sorry about that.”
Carmen’s emerald green eyes sparkled with playfulness as she squeezed my hand and put her head on my chest. “It beats a hearse.”
“You got that right.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FIRST OF ALL, I would like to thank my beautiful parents, Bill and Ofelia Estes. Knowing them, they’re at a cocktail party, reading my book in Heaven, sharing their witty humor and compassion with my ancestors, exclaiming, “Did she really say that?”
I believe it should be customary to award Purple Hearts to the friends and family at the completion of a novel, for enduring the barrage of insufferable updates on, “the book.” Since I am devoid of medals, I can only offer my sincere gratitude for those who stayed on the battlefield and my understanding to those who deserted.
DEEPEST GRATITUDE
Suzanne Gagnier, my first fan whose mantra was, “Keep writing.” Now, my Personal Manager, who took me down the yellow Brick road and introduced me to David Guillod.
David Guillod, Producer/Manager for his enthusiasm and insightful expertise.
Howard Sanders of United Talent Agency.
John Paine, editor of STILETTOS AND STEEL. John cut a clear path through jungles of pages, while nudging my pen in the right direction.
Bayard Storey, Studio Script Analyst, hails from Harvard and is my classy, literary henchman. He has my back.
Isabel Storey, Literary Consultant. She had the heavy task of analyzing the first draft. After that, she climbed Mount Whitney.
Dorris Hall, typist and number one cheerleader. Like the cavalry, her keys galloped to meet deadlines.
Jeanne Ardito, “Editor in Chief of Weed Pulling,” who copy edited the first draft.
Javier Ramirez, Writing Assistant. A talented young man who comes to the rescue when I’m stuck for the right word.
Joyce Fetty, Actress. She pedaled up to me and suggested that I also do a graphic novel. Hollywood power broker on a bicycle.
Darrell Fetty, Screenwriter/Actor, brought my work to Howard Chaykin, the world renowned graphic artist. A gallant gesture.
Howard Chaykin, Author and Graphic Artist. The energy of Howard’s noir art will be magnificent for my story. Our artistic collaboration is the perfect marriage for STILETTOS AND STEEL.
APPRECIATION
April Muffoletto — Consultant
Barbara Gottlieb — Graphic Artist
Brian McKinney — Personal Stylist and Digital Media Consultant
Catherine Wilshire — Producer, for believing in happy endings
Christopher Larsen — Web Master
David Blattel — Photographer
Dotti Albertine — Award Winning Book Cover Artist
Greg Shay — Henchman
Holly Gagnier — Actress/Consultant
James Dybas — Actor
James Will — Graphic Artist
John Goodman — Actor
Katherine Starr — Film Director: Material Lies
Kim Boten — Production Manager
Linda-Marie Martinez — Consultant — Multi-Media and Public Relations
Mike Milo — Artist/Emmy Award Winning Animator: Pinky and the Brain
Rene Sanchez — Graphic Artist
Richard Zelniker — Screenwriter/Director: Vinyl
Sean Lewis — Actor
Suzanne Gagnier — Project Photographer
Bravo! to the professional actors, models and technicians who have tirelessly worked on the STILETTOS AND STEEL platform. I proudly call them, “My crew.” To meet these talented young people, visit: www.stilettosandsteel.com.
TRAIL GUIDES
If I were to be specific about everyone’s contribution, it would make Ulysses by Jam
es Joyce a fast read.
Ann Hadsell
Arthur Spector
Bobby Harvey
Billy Million
Dan Cullinane
Dave Blaker
Debra Steinbaugh
Denise Nagy
Harriett Savedra
Joe Gomez
Karen Tang
Katherine Segal
Kay Ostrenko
Lilli Ungar
Lovey Curry
Sue Nagy
GRACIOUS FRIENDS
Bobbi Constantine, Operations Manager of Western Costume
Ella Matthes — Owner/Publisher of the LN Magazine
Gary Boettcher — Good Friend
Mariah Hanson — Club Skirts
Ruel Gunnell — My handsome manly man in Utah
Russell Bowmen — Thunderbolt Spiritual Books in Santa Monica, California
Susan Stryker — Historian and Emmy Award Winning Producer: Screaming Queens
Tom Adler — The Essential Gay & Lesbian Directory and GayYellowBook.com
CENTER STONES
My entire family:
Uncle Henry, Aunt Elisa and my loving cousins
Silvia Memminger — my cousin — and her running buddy, Aunt Mary Ala-Nesters, Radford Tribe, Valley Club and trudging buddies, world-wide
Back to Basics family on Crenshaw
Ted Summers — Numero Uno, Head Honcho of Patience, Love and Guidance
Fran Summers — for sharing Ted
Master Sun-Don Lee, the third Patriarch of Forshang Buddhism Professor Yi-Hung Su of Forshang Buddhism
Sister Helena Chou of Forshang Buddhism
Brother John Chou of Forshang Buddhism
Dr. Huy Hoang and staff of Natural Health Medical Center, in Lawndale, California
Saint Charles Borromeo Church of North Hollywood
Pacific Palisades Writer’s Meeting
MY INDEBTEDNESS
To friends who walked with me in the darkness and to those who carried the light.
Alabam Corruthers
Chuck Chamberlin
Ed Wade
Frankie Fergusen
Gail Wilson
Joy Gere
Larry Tuttle
Liz March
Marie Stinner
Richie Kellog
Terry Graham
Uncle Danny
LAST BUT NOT LEAST
Immeasurable thanks to Giselle Nagy, my special lady who gently rocked my words to sleep at night, then ran a comb through their hair in the morning, sending them off to the world, clean and neat.