Desert City Diva

by Corey Lynn Fayman

  ‘I thought you hated talking about “Doctor Phil” stuff?’

  ‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Macy. ‘It depends.’ She looked in the rearview mirror and switched lanes to pass a slow-moving truck. They dropped down through the rocky hills of Alpine and headed into the flatlands of El Cajon.

  Macy laughed. ‘One thing I can’t figure out,’ she said. ‘It’s really stupid.’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Rolly.

  ‘Why I want you to like me. I don’t usually care.’

  Rolly smiled. He looked out the window. An aqueous sliver of blue appeared in the distance – one of the local reservoirs cradled between mountains of rock.

  ‘I haven’t had this much fun since Vera almost shot me,’ he said.

  ‘What was that all about, anyway?’

  ‘That’s between me and Vera.’

  ‘Rolly Waters doesn’t kiss and tell, huh?’

  ‘There was no kissing involved.’

  ‘I’m gonna get Vera drunk sometime and find out what happened.’

  Macy’s phone rang. She looked over at Rolly. ‘You want to see who it is?’ she said, indicating the phone in the cup holder between them. Rolly lifted the phone and checked the screen.

  ‘Justin Beeper?’ he said, reading the caller’s name.

  ‘That’s the guy,’ said Macy. ‘The one who punches in tones all the time. I entered a name so I’d know it was him. Go ahead and answer if you want.’

  Rolly tapped the answer button and put the phone to his ear.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. There was no answering voice, but he could hear something in the background. It sounded like a car passing. A tone beeped. Then another. A whole set of tones, nine or ten, then a pause.

  ‘Who is this?’ said Rolly.

  The sequence of tones repeated, paused and repeated. He hung up and checked the number on the display. The area code was 760, which covered a lot of territory. Most of that area lay behind them in the great desert empire. It didn’t mean the caller was in the desert, though, if it was a cell phone.

  ‘Was it that tone thing?’ Macy said.

  Rolly nodded.

  ‘Freaky, huh?’ Macy said.

  ‘When did this start?’

  ‘In the hospital, in Brawley, while I was waiting for you.’

  ‘It’s the same pattern of beeps on Daddy Joe’s answering machine?’

  ‘Yeah. I saved one of the calls on my voicemail so I could compare ’em. Same little tune. You think it’s a code or something?’

  ‘Maybe. Did you hear anything else on Daddy Joe’s machine?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Kinnie said Eric Ozzie left him a message.’

  ‘The Sneakers guy?’

  ‘Yeah. Kinnie said Ozzie called Daddy Joe about me. He wanted to know how I got the photograph. Look out for that camper up there.’

  Macy tapped the brakes as a truck and camper combo swerved in front of them. Its left blinker popped on halfway through the lane change.

  ‘Asshole,’ said Macy, tapping the brakes again.

  ‘Did you hear the message from Ozzie?’ asked Rolly.

  ‘C’mon, Waters,’ said Macy. ‘I woulda told you about that. All I heard were those beeps. Kinnie must’ve erased it.’

  ‘Someone did, I guess.’

  ‘The Sneakers guy lied to you, didn’t he, about never seeing the photo?’

  ‘Appears so.’

  ‘We need to confront that guy.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘You’re going to talk to him, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. Sure.’

  ‘I want to meet him. He told you he’d be willing to meet me, right?’

  Rolly put the phone back in the cup holder and considered his choices.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You should go too. I’ll call when I get home, try to set something up.’

  ‘You think I’m all wrong? That he’s my father?’

  ‘Maybe he is.’

  ‘Aunt Betty can’t be my mother then.’

  ‘Ozzie’s mother died. She was one of them. The UVTs.’

  ‘No shit? That’s crazy.’

  They descended into a bank of dust and smog that hung like cement over the city of El Cajon. Macy’s phone rang again. Rolly checked the name on the screen. He looked at Macy, then checked it again.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘It says No Pants.’

  ‘What? I don’t … Randy’s dead.’

  ‘They probably found his phone. The cops. They’re going through his recent calls list and contacts.’

  ‘You gonna answer?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’ll go to voicemail after six rings.’

  The phone had rung four times already. It rang again. Rolly tapped the screen and put the phone to his ear. ‘Hello,’ he said.

  ‘Who’s this?’ It was a woman’s voice.

  ‘It’s me,’ Rolly said. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I was looking for …’ said the woman. ‘Oh dear.’ She hung up. Rolly tapped Randy’s name on the screen to call back and got sent straight to voicemail, the default message. He tapped off the call.

  ‘Who was it?’ said Macy.

  ‘Some woman,’ said Rolly. ‘Not the cops. She hung up.’

  ‘How’d she get Randy’s phone?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  He realized he did know as soon as he said it. Randy No Pants was Randy Parker. They were one and the same. The man he’d met in the Alien Artifacts shop was an impostor. Kinnie had said something, back at the monument, but he hadn’t realized what it meant until now. Randy was a little kid. The man with the bad wig and the prison tats couldn’t be Randy Parker. He was too old.

  ‘Tell me about Randy,’ said Rolly.

  ‘It was just those four days I was with him, you know.’

  ‘How did you meet him?’

  ‘He came to the club one night, chatted me up on the break, said he dug what I was doing. He came back the next night, said he had two tickets to Coachella, the whole weekend and asked if I wanted to go. I said sure.’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘I know. I’m a concert whore. Those tickets are like three hundred bucks.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’

  ‘Not much. We got high, listened to music, fucked around. I told him about rez life. He seemed pretty interested in that stuff, in my growing up. We kinda bonded because we were both orphans. I remember talking about that. His parents died when he was young. His grandparents raised him or something.’

  ‘Did he say how they died?’

  ‘No. Not that I remember. He was wearing this goofy T-shirt the night I met him. What was it? Oh, yeah. My parents were abducted by aliens and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.’

  Rolly rubbed his forehead.

  ‘What is it?’ said Macy.

  ‘No Pants – his name’s Randy Parker. He owns that shop. Kinnie showed me some names on the memorial. His parents were UVTs too.’

  ‘No shit? That’s seriously demented.’

  Rolly nodded. He thought about the woman in the Alien Artifacts store. He wondered if she could be Randy’s grandmother.

  ‘What else?’ he said. ‘When did you go to Slab City?’

  ‘He told me about East Jesus and that stuff while we were at Coachella, said he wanted to check it out. I didn’t need to be anywhere after the weekend. I guess he didn’t either, so we spent a couple of days at the Slabs, like I told you. We walked around a lot. It was almost like he was showing off, wanting to make sure everybody saw us together. He was trying to find somebody, too.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘He didn’t have the guy’s name. He kept asking about gold, asking people if they knew a guy with gold fingers. That’s how we met Cool Bob.’

  ‘Bob doesn’t have gold fingers.’

  ‘No, but people kept bringing up Bob’s name when Randy asked about the guy, said Bob might know somebody. Maybe it had something to do with that guitar. Then
there was that thing with Bob’s trailer, when Randy broke in. That’s when I dumped him.’

  ‘What happened with Bob’s trailer?’

  ‘We met Bob and talked to him for a while at his trailer. He wasn’t giving up anything, kinda like he acted when you and me went there. He said he knew a guy that made gold, extracted it from old computers or something. He said the guy was real private, though – didn’t like talking to people. Bob said he could give the guy a message, but that’s all he could do.’

  ‘Did Randy leave any message?’

  ‘Not that I remember. He got all weird after that.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘It was like he was done with me. The morning after he said he had to go see somebody. In Calipatria, I think – his brother or someone. He just took off. I thought he’d dumped me. Sad Macy, ditched in the desert. Anyway, I went to East Jesus to hang out some more and ran into Bob. I asked him if there was any other stuff I should see. He showed me the water tank. They got it all painted up. No water, though. He showed me the shooting range and the golf course. We went back to his trailer for a beer. That’s when we caught Randy tearing up the place. Bob was pissed at me.’

  ‘He thought you set him up.’

  ‘That’s what I felt like. After Bob threw him out, Randy waited for me out on the road, like I was his dog or something and I was going to follow him home. I told him to fuck off, to get out of my life. He finally gave up. That’s the last time I saw him until the other night at The Range. I thought maybe he was looking for drugs.’

  ‘Why’d you think that?’

  ‘Nothing, really. Bob didn’t make Randy for a tweaker.’

  ‘Yeah, he told me. Did you know Randy Parker used to visit with Daddy Joe?’

  ‘I never heard of Randy Parker until you mentioned his name at the cantina.’

  Rolly looked out the window. They were entering Mission Valley, approaching the football stadium. He spotted an exit sign. ‘Take Fairmount,’ he said.

  Macy put on the right blinker, moved over a lane. ‘Where are we going?’ she said.

  ‘The Alien Artifacts store,’ Rolly replied. ‘You’re going to call Randy.’

  TWENTY-ONE

  The Relics

  Macy followed Fairmount Drive south into Mid-City, then turned onto El Cajon Boulevard. Rolly pointed out the Alien Artifacts store. They pulled into a grocery store parking lot two blocks away, climbed out of the Tioga and walked to the store. Rolly leaned on his crutches and tried the doorknob. It turned. He couldn’t see anyone inside but there were lights on in back, behind the partition. He looked at Macy.

  ‘Got your phone?’ he asked. Macy showed it to him. He’d outlined the plan in the parking lot before they came over. They opened the door and walked in.

  ‘Hello?’ said Rolly. ‘Is anyone here?’

  Something stirred in the back of the store. ‘We’re closed,’ said a woman’s voice.

  ‘The door was open,’ said Rolly. ‘Is Randy here?’

  ‘Randy’s gone,’ said the voice.

  Rolly looked over at Macy. She inspected an elongated crystal skull displayed on the front table.

  ‘Dotty?’ said Rolly. ‘Is that you?’

  Dotty entered the room through the door in the back. ‘Oh, hello,’ she said, walking towards them.

  ‘Hello,’ said Rolly. ‘Do you remember me?’

  ‘Yes. You’re that detective person, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s right. Rolly Waters. I was here a couple of days ago. I talked to you and Randy. That was Randy I met, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dotty. She looked past Rolly, assessing his new companion.

  ‘This is Macy,’ said Rolly.

  ‘Hello,’ said Dotty.

  ‘Hi,’ said Macy.

  ‘You have beautiful eyes,’ said Dotty.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Very unusual. I used to know someone with eyes like yours.’

  ‘They’re amber,’ said Macy.

  ‘They look like gold,’ said Dotty. ‘Have they always been that way?’

  Macy shrugged. ‘As long as I can remember,’ she said.

  ‘We’d like to talk to Randy,’ said Rolly. ‘It’s important.’

  ‘Randy’s not here.’

  ‘Is he still in the desert?’

  Dotty pulled her fascinated gaze away from Macy and returned her attention to Rolly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘In the desert. That’s right.’

  ‘When did you last hear from him?’

  ‘Oh, goodness, that must’ve been when you were here the last time. When he came back to the shop to pick up his phone. Is there some way I can help you?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Unless you know why Randy called Macy.’

  Dotty turned back to Macy. ‘Do you know Randy?’ she asked.

  Macy shrugged again. ‘I camped out with him once,’ she said. ‘At a concert.’

  Dotty stroked her long white hair, fiddling with it. Her eyes stayed on Macy.

  ‘You must be the young lady he was telling me about,’ she said. ‘I was so glad to hear that he’d found someone. He doesn’t get out much, you know. This shop takes up all his time.’

  ‘We were just out in the desert,’ said Rolly. ‘At a place called Slab City. We saw Randy there.’

  Dotty tugged at the sleeves of her dress, re-arranging the diaphanous purple fabric until she found it acceptable. She went back to stroking her hair.

  ‘There’s been a disturbance,’ she said. ‘I feel the vibrations.’

  ‘Have the police been here?’ said Rolly. ‘Have you talked to them?’

  ‘Randy was supposed to come back yesterday,’ Dotty said.

  ‘Who was that man?’ Rolly asked.

  ‘What man?’

  ‘The one with the tattoos. The man you told me was Randy. Who is he?’

  ‘I wanted to warn you. I didn’t know he’d come back.’

  ‘Who came back? Who is he?’

  Dotty turned and walked away from them.

  ‘Randy’s dead,’ Rolly said.

  Dotty stopped. She turned back to face them. ‘I am blameless,’ she said. ‘I am blameless in all of this.’

  Rolly and Macy exchanged glances. Dotty took a step towards the wall. She stared at the UVT paintings that hung there, of the planets and energy fields, the man playing the diddley bow.

  ‘Randy’s been preoccupied,’ she said. ‘Much more than usual.’

  ‘How so?’ said Rolly.

  ‘He gets like that when he’s collecting things, when he thinks he’s found something exciting.’

  ‘This lady’s dotty all right,’ said Macy, sotto voce. ‘Want me to make the call?’

  Rolly nodded his head. Macy tapped on her phone once then hid it behind her. A phone rang in the back of the store. Dotty looked confused.

  ‘Would you like to answer that?’ said Rolly. Dotty said nothing, so he continued, ‘That’s Randy’s phone, isn’t it? The man didn’t take Randy’s phone with him because he wasn’t Randy.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You tried to call Macy, didn’t you? From Randy’s phone. Twenty minutes ago. When I answered you didn’t know what to do so you hung up.’

  Dotty played with her hair.

  ‘Why did you call Macy?’ said Rolly.

  ‘I warned him,’ said Dotty, talking to herself. ‘I am blameless in all of this.’

  ‘You went out to Slab City with Randy a couple of weeks ago. Who were you looking for?’

  Dotty stopped playing with her hair. She looked at Rolly as if she might say something. Then she bolted past them and ran out the front door. Macy dashed after her.

  ‘Macy!’ said Rolly.

  Macy paused in the doorway and looked back at him. ‘I’ll catch the old lady,’ she said. ‘Find Randy’s phone and I’ll call you.’

  And then she was gone. Rolly stumbled to the front door. He stepped out on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. He co
uldn’t see either woman. There was no chance he’d catch up with them. He hobbled back into the store and made his way to the back. He opened the door leading into the back office and saw a small desk, stacks of metal shelves filled to the edges with alien bric-a-brac. There was a cell phone on the desk. He laid his crutches against the side of the desk and sat down in the chair. He turned on the magnifying lamp attached to the desk. There were maps on the desk and all sorts of papers. He looked at the top map – Geology and Mineral Deposits of the Jincona District, San Diego, California. He looked through the other papers. They were technical articles on gold mining and chemicals. There were road maps, trail maps, elevations. They all covered the same area. They always included the Jincona Indian reservation.

  He picked up Randy’s cell phone and searched through the call list. Dotty’s call to Macy was the most recent one listed. A call to Joe Harper was next. It had been made two days ago. The next number on the list had no name next to it, but the prefix was 760, like the beeper’s number. Rolly tapped the number and put the phone to his ear. He stayed on the line, hoping to get through to the caller’s voicemail, thinking he might get a name or hear a recorded voice.

  As he waited for voicemail to pick up, he heard a scraping sound, like metal against metal. He swiveled in the chair to see where it came from. A thin line of sunlight leaked out from underneath the back door. There was another door, next to the exit, a bathroom or closet. He hung up the phone, grabbed his crutches and stood up. The scraping sound came from behind the interior door.

  ‘Hello?’ he said. There was a different sound, like a grunting animal, a dog perhaps, trapped behind the door. He stepped towards it and took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t have to defend himself from any protective canines, a Pit Bull or Doberman.

  ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Is someone in there?’

  He tapped out 911 on the phone’s keypad but stopped short of making the call. He reached for the handle and cracked the door ajar. Nothing growled or barked at him. He opened the door further.

  A pair of cowboy boots was the first thing he saw. They were standing upright in the far corner, next to the toilet. Two stockinged feet were splayed out next to them. There were two legs attached to the feet and a massive body attached to those legs. Rolly flipped on the light switch.