Undead L.A. 1

by Sagliani, Devan

  Bram was always trying to win him over with small talk, trying to be his buddy. Donny wasn't looking to be pals with the loser his mom had settled on. Everyone was so worried about how he'd taken the news that his dad had run off on them, saying that he needed counseling so he could talk about his feelings. The last thing Donny wanted was any of that touchy feely shit. He just wanted to hang out with his friends and act like everything was normal, instead of living under a microscope twenty-four-seven.

  Donny guessed that the doorjamb was just made out of wood and never even reinforced. The strike plate was probably a sliver of cheap metal and the pawl was most likely made out of hardened plastic made in China.

  Or USA, Donny chuckled to himself. He'd heard the Chinese named an island ‘Usa’ so they could label all their products as “Made in USA” and still get them passed through customs and onto Wal-Mart’s shelves. He never knew if it was true or not, but it sounded about right to him. He remembered when his real dad used to go into angry tirades reading the newspaper over breakfast – before he up and disappeared one day.

  “First they took over the banks,” he roared, slamming his fist down on the table and knocking over the milk in the process. “Then the cheap merch, then they started putting lead in kids toys, and poisoning our pets. Fucking Chinese. And the goddamn President of the United States won't do anything about it! You mark my words, Donny boy, these fuckers won't be happy until they run everything. A billion fucking people crawling over each other like cockroaches. They're coming for our land and one way or another, these fuckers are gonna get it! They're slowly buying us up so they can round us up for the kill!”

  Was he right? Did the Chinese unleash this plague on us so they could clear us out without a fight, and then take the land for themselves? Or was that just his pop's racism bubbling up from his DNA, clouding his vision and making him the same kind of asshole his old man was?

  Odds are you'll be long dead before they figure it out, he thought grimly, feeling himself pulling back toward reality for one lucid moment. If things don't change real quick, it'll be only a matter of time until you're snatched like Fast Jeff was – picked up and carried away kicking and screaming. Why didn't he pay more attention? Why didn't he hear them at the door?

  Donny's thoughts turned back to the blood-smeared knob of the employees’ break room. It wouldn't take much strain to render the thing useless, either from the inside snapping, or – in the case where the jamb was poorly constructed in the first place but the lock was top quality metal – from the wood giving way. All it would take was a few adults pressed up against it. He'd seen it a bunch of times on repairs he'd done earlier that summer. Sometimes the slot the lock went into was so worn out the bolt simply popped open if you shoved the door hard enough. In one case, the owner had installed the thing upside down before calling in help.

  He was right, Donny realized. I'd have been able to make a decent living off of what he taught me. He taught me everything I needed to know about being a man, all in a single summer. Almost everything, anyway.

  By the end of that summer Donny didn't hate being stuck working with Bram so much. They'd pulled up to the drive-through window at McDonalds and Donny noticed that the kid working the window was his same age. After they got their lunch and parked in the lot to devour it, Bram smiled at him.

  “It may not be how you expected to spend your summer, but it sure beats flipping burgers,” Bram said with a smile. “Plus now you can afford to buy yourself some Dodgers tickets. Maybe we cut out one day, play hooky and catch a day game with Kershaw pitching. He's been throwing some amazing games so far this season. Last week he struck out ten guys in a single game. Not bad for a lefty.”

  “You can say that again,” Donny agreed, shaking his head in spite of himself. Hot fry grease and salt coated his fingers and he licked them clean before biting into a fresh handful. He liked to wolf down the fries as fast as he could, then tear into the burger afterward.

  They were only good if they were hot, Donny thought, lost in his memories. And then they were fucking amazing.

  “It's a skill you can use the rest of your life, too,” Bram said in between bites, talking out of the side of his mouth as he chewed. “You'll never get rich, but you can make a living. I promise you that. There will never be a shortage of people who are too dumb or too lazy to do the work themselves.”

  The next week Bram stayed true to his word and they skipped work to catch the Dodgers playing against the Angels in the Freeway Series. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as they drove south toward downtown on the 5 Freeway, heading to Chavez Ravine where the ballpark was. They exited at Stadium Way, then curved their way along Academy Drive until they reached the Golden State Gate entrance. There was a big line of cars waiting to pay to get into the parking lot, but it didn't take long. Bram had put on Power 106 and was making faces as he bopped his head to the new Jay Z song, trying to get Donny to laugh at him. It wasn't until he turned his hat sideways and folded his arms over his chest like a B-Boy that he got what he was looking for; Donny was having fun in spite of himself. As they waited in line, two Mexican men walked between the cars with hats and t-shirts for sale. They passed them by, scurrying up to the pink monster truck two cars ahead of them, when a manicured hand popped out the window waving a twenty-dollar bill at them.

  “You see that? Those men are working hard to feed their families,” Bram casually pointed out. “The skills you are learning now mean you'll be able to do that without ever having to work as hard as they are right now. It's all about learning to work smart. Trust me. The more you use your mind, the less physical labor you'll have to do.”

  “If you don't do any physical labor, won't you get soft and weak?”

  “Huh,” he said, scratching his chin. Donny couldn't tell if he was being serious for a moment or if he was messing with him. “I never thought about it like that. I guess the trick is to find a balance. Good point.”

  Donny fixed a stare on him, but Bram ignored him. He still felt like he was in an after school special, but since his mom's boyfriend didn't burst out singing about eating vegetables or begin extolling the virtues of flossing, he decided to let it go.

  Pick your battles, Donny thought. When did it become part of my life's code? Before or after my dad left? Before or after people openly began calling me a bastard for it?

  The line moved fast. Bram paid for the parking, tossing the ticket stub over his dashboard so it stuck in his windshield on the inside. He parked up top facing downtown Los Angeles. Donny sat for a minute and checked out the insane view of the US Bank building surrounded by the rest of the high rises. He'd never seen the city like this, except in pictures on the Internet.

  Shit! I miss the Internet most of all, Donny thought, coming back to reality for a moment. Facebook and World of Warcraft and even Mario Kart. I'd just downloaded all the Fast & Furious movies on torrent before the lights went out, not to mention a healthy stash of Private movies with European porn stars. Those girls did anything for money. Anything!

  It took them forever to walk the distance to the stadium, then up and around to their section. Donny was just happy to be outside. He loved the feeling of riding an outdoor escalator to get up the hill, too. They used a metal detector to search everyone before they went in, checking all bags and purses.

  Checking bags didn't help Brian Stowe, Donny thought. Dodger fans just chased him down in the parking lot after the game and gave him a first class L.A. beating, and for nothing at all. But then again, he was a Giants fan.

  “The rivalry between the Giants and the Dodgers goes all the way back to New York, where both teams started,” Bram told him as they waited to be searched. “It's one of the longest running rivalries in baseball history.

  It's like he can read my mind, Donny thought. How do adults do that? He wondered if the answer would come to him in time, as he got older. Maybe it wasn't a trick after all. Who knows? Maybe Bram would be willing to teach that to him as well.

 
The first thing they ran into once they'd cleared security and handed off their tickets to get into the top of the stadium was the snack bar. The smell of hot pretzels and popcorn hit him like a welcome wave of heat after a long, cold night. His stomach gave a loud growl and his mouth began to water as he read the menu. It all sounded good to him at that point. He'd love some peanuts and hot nachos with jalapeño rings and an ice cream sandwich, but first he needed something to settle his growing hunger.

  “You feeling snack-y, kid?” Bram began pulling out his wallet.

  “I sure am.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Can I have a Dodger dog?”

  “That's a great idea. Let's both get one. On me.”

  Bram bought a coke for Donny, and a beer for himself. Donny brought his glove with him just in case a foul ball came in his direction. It didn't. The Dodgers fell behind quickly, but came back in the 6th to tie things up when the Angels pitcher began to lose his arm. By the end of the inning they had a commanding lead, which they rode out to end the day with a win.

  It's like they became a whole new team after Puig showed up, Donny recalled. Suddenly Los Angeles baseball was back in its rightful home again and not in 'Ana-crime' as he liked to call it, with those sneaky, city stealing Halos.

  “Everyone loves an underdog,” Bram had said. Donny didn't know what it meant, but he nodded his head. They really got into each play, yelling out words of encouragement to the Dodgers and hurling insults at the Angels. It was weird not hearing the game called by Vin Scully. Donny had grown used to hearing his voice when he was watching a game on television. He worked hard to keep up with all the stats the first few innings, but gave up after that and just enjoyed the experience of being in the park. It was a warm day, sunny with no cloud cover, just big blue sky rolling on over their heads like an endless canopy. A cool breeze blew through the stadium and small birds flew back and forth across the field. Bram let Donny finish off the last of his warm beer under the condition that he didn't tell his mom. It smelled kinda sweet but when he drank it, he was surprised at how bitter it tasted.

  I still don't understand the appeal of beer, Donny thought. Why can't they make it taste more like Coke?

  All in all it was kind of a perfect day, even though Donny had spent it with Bram. So many of his friends had bragged about their dads taking them to games. At first Donny felt hurt, then bitter, and finally he gave up, pretending he didn't care at all. But he did care. It hurt hearing other boys talk about their dads taking them to games or the batting cages or the movies, hearing that their dads wanted to spend time with them, wanted them around. How could it not hurt? Bram had, in his own small way, gone a long way toward making up for it. He wasn't like a real dad, not exactly. He was more like a cool older brother type that just happened to be shacking up with his mom.

  Just try not to think about it, Donny told himself as images of Bram being intimate with his mom crowded into his head once more. He'd learned to avoid them when they were fooling around, locking himself in his room and putting on the Beats by Dre headphones Bram had bought him for his birthday. His mom tried to make him take them back, saying they were too expensive to give to a kid – but Donny had managed to hang onto them, especially after walking in on Bram and his mom making out on the kitchen table the day school let out early.

  Try not to think of him thrusting away at your mom, her tits out flopping around while she made those terrible noises.

  He couldn't remember sounds like that ever coming out of his parents’ bedroom when he was a kid. In fact he couldn't remember their door ever being closed, much less locked!

  He makes her happy, Donny thought. Isn't that what matters?

  Playing hooky was such a success that they decided to make a tradition of it, skipping days over the summer to visit Six Flags as well as Knott's Berry Farm. Bram was a thrill seeker, just like Donny, who lived to take on the fastest coasters. There was no ride too scary for him. Most adults wouldn't go on a ride twice in a row, but Bram was always up for it. He never got sick and he never complained about the lines. He always went for the biggest, meanest ride in the park first, demanding to sit at the front of the ride in the very first car if he could. They had tackled the GhostRider at Knott's right out of the gate. At over two minutes, it was the gnarliest wooden roller coaster ride on all of the west coast. Donny had started feeling a little queasy by the time they hit the top of the first drop, but Bram was all smiles. He held his arms up as high as he could while they plummeted over a hundred feet, then roared across a rickety patch of track toward a huge turn, and then another drop. Donny gripped the safety bar and held on for dear life. After the ride was over Bram suggested they hit it once more, pointing back toward the ride's entrance, which was rigged up to look like a mining shaft. Overwhelmed, Donny had responded by simply leaning over and hurling his breakfast into a trashcan. When he recovered he expected Bram to give him a hard time, but he was cool.

  “Hey, man,” Bram said in a soothing voice, “it's not like I haven't thrown up before. It's the sign of a good ride.”

  “Please don't tell anyone,” Donny begged, his face flushing with shame.

  “I won't,” Bram promised, holding his hand up. “Scout's honor.”

  They spent the rest of the day tackling the Boomerang and the Silver Bullet. At the end of the day, just before the park closed, they took on the GhostRider once more. This time Donny knew what to expect. He kept his hands up and screamed the whole time. When it was over, he didn't get sick. He demanded to go on it one last time but Bram said he was hungry, so they left to eat at a restaurant known for their fried chicken and biscuits with Knott's brand jelly. After emptying out his stomach early and skipping lunch, Donny was starving. He practically licked the plate clean. True to his word, Bram kept Donny's secret about puking when they got home. As far as he knew, Bram had never even told his mom they'd gone to the amusement park at all.

  I can't believe that was just a few months ago, thought Donny. So much has changed since then.

  Donny was used to things changing for the worse, especially after his father had left, but what happened at the end with Bram, well that was just plain fucked up. There was no other way to describe it.

  Donny hadn't slept well because of the constant whirr of helicopters overhead. He woke up to find his mother sitting in her robe at the kitchen table, looking scared and anxious. Bram was pacing back and forth watching television, only there wasn't anything on it. The station had gone to the Emergency Broadcast System. It had a high steady beep like when the life support of a character in a television show goes all flat line. There were rainbow colored stripes on the screen and a message.

  RED ALERT! STAY INDOORS! LOOTERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT. THIS IS NOT A TEST.

  “Donny!” His mother turned and saw him reading the screen. Bram dove for the remote, turning it off as quickly as he could. He used so much force that the back of the remote fell open and the batteries shot out, bouncing on the carpet and rolling to a stop at his feet. It had done the trick. The screen was now lifeless. It was too late though. Donny had already seen what was on it.

  No point in closing the gate once the horse is already out, Donny thought. His father used to say it all the time before he left.

  Donny's mother got up and pulled him hard to her chest, smothering him with her breasts. She let out a small sob.

  “It's going to be fine,” Bram said, trying to sound confident.

  “How is it going to be fine? We're trapped in here like rats.”

  “We live in a gated apartment building, Sarah!”

  “In the middle of a major city! How do we know one of our asshole Russian neighbors hasn't already let one of them in? Tell me that! How do we know no one inside the walls is already infected?”

  “Because we're going to secure the place and make sure that doesn't happen.”

  “When? Huh, Bram? Are you going to march out there and start telling people what to do? They're already looting in t
he streets! Are you going to risk your life?”

  “I'm going to do what it takes to take care of this family,” Bram assured her.

  “Why? You're not part of this family!”

  Bram glared at her and Donny's mom withered under his gaze.

  “That's the fear talking. You don't mean that. I'm going to pretend you didn't say that.”

  “It's true,” she said, looking down. “You're going to run off the first chance you get. What reason do you have to stay?”

  “How about these two? You and Donny!”

  “He's not your son.”

  “He might as well be. Who put a roof over his head? Who paid for karate lessons and soccer uniforms and dental bills? Who taught him a skill? Who tried to teach him how to live in this world? You can't say he's not my son. I'm the closest thing he's ever had to a father.”

  “We don't need you,” Sarah icily replied, raising her eyes back up to meet his.

  They stared at each other in silence, the unseen tension in the room building to a high-pitched crescendo. Donny started to feel himself pulling away again, but stopped it at the sound of Bram's voice.

  “I'm going to go out now,” Bram said slowly, as if he was trying to keep from exploding. “I'm going to make sure the gates are secure. I'm gonna get a read on the situation. I'll be back. I promise.”

  “It's all right if you don't come back,” Sarah said, sounding defeated. Her head was bowed again. “We both knew what this was.”

  She turned and marched to her bedroom, slamming the door. Bram stood in shock, still watching where she'd gone.

  “Don't worry about it,” Donny offered. “She gets like that. It's cuz of what we went through with my dad and all.”

  “You wanna help me?”

  “You mean out there?”

  “Yeah,” Bram cheerfully replied. “Why not? I'm gonna need all the help I can get, especially if we have to fix or repair that gate. I'll need a skilled worker then, for sure.”