Party Time_Raving Arizona

by Shaun Attwood

  I take the exit. Four cars follow. Mind’s playing tricks. I turn down a side street. All four turn. Jesus Christ. I’m about to get killed or arrested! I floor the pedal and roar away in low gear, the rev meter leaping towards the danger zone that shuts the car down before its engine explodes. There’s no way I’m leading these bastards to Claudia. I shoot through a neighbourhood and run red lights until they’re nowhere in sight. I cut back home.

  I creep the car through the complex, scanning every vehicle for cops. It’s a while before I feel safe enough to park. I get out, check the area and rush home in a sweat. I stab the key into the door and dash in. ‘I just got followed!’

  ‘You’re sketching,’ Claudia says, rising off the sofa. ‘You’ve done way too many drugs in your lifetime.’

  ‘No. Listen. I’m serious. Dead fucking serious,’ I say, waving my arms. ‘Four cars followed me from the freeway. When I turned up 78th Street, they all turned. It was like I had my own bloody motorcade.’

  ‘There’s no reason they’d want you now,’ Claudia says, shaking her head. ‘You’ve stopped dealing.’

  ‘I don’t know, love,’ I say, hugging her. ‘This shit really happened. It’s serious. Really serious. I think we’d better move away.’

  ‘Yes. Marry me and let’s go to LA.’

  I smile. ‘Sooner rather than later. I’ll see how much I’ve got in the stock accounts and we’ll go.’ We sit on the sofa and hug.

  ‘Then I can put my acting classes to good use,’ Claudia says. ‘I want to go where there’s a lot going on.’

  ‘There’s loads going on there.’

  ‘And we can spend time by the water. Here we can’t do that.’

  ‘We’ll rent a house by the beach. You can act and I’ll trade stocks. We’ll be like normal people. I just hope we have enough money.’

  ‘You’d have enough money if you stopped paying everybody’s bills,’ Claudia says.

  ‘I’m working on making the Wild Ones self-sufficient.’

  ‘Shaun, the Wild Ones blow up house after house. I work this shitty job, so I pay my own part of the bills, so you know I’m not using you for money. But everyone else is.’

  ‘I had so much money. I’m just so used to paying for everything for everybody.’

  ‘And hanging out with the Wild Ones is dangerous,’ Claudia says. ‘We’re trying to live a normal life, and they’re getting more and more insane. What they do is dangerous for you. You’ll get arrested. You think you’re invincible. And these people you meet at the Wild Ones’, how can you trust them?’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you: something’s up. I’m getting followed around.’

  ‘You’re just being paranoid.’

  ‘No, I’m not! I’m going to call Cody. Have him take the RX7. It stands out way too much. It’s obvious I’ve been identified in it.’

  Two days later, I’m paged by Wild Woman.

  In her living room, I sit on an old armchair. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘The cops were here,’ she says, on the sofa, her eyes exhausted, shoulders slumped.

  ‘Detective Reid?’

  ‘No. Regular cops. Wild Man came to the house demanding stuff and I wouldn’t give him any. I told him, “You mean nothing to me no more. If you wannit, you’d better earn it. Go out collecting or something.” I was being a right bitch and I just wouldn’t give him the shit, so, he started strangling me.’

  ‘I keep telling you: he’s going to kill you one of these days. I don’t know why you guys stay together.’

  ‘The cops came and said they’d had a report from the neighbours of domestic violence, but I don’t see how they could have got here so fast. I’m wondering if they were watching me. Then they took us both to the police station and let us back out. That was dead sketchy. They ran our names, so why would they let us go?’

  ‘If they’ve been looking for you ever since the raid, it doesn’t make sense,’ I say, shaking my head.

  ‘I think we’re in bigger trouble. They’re coming for us. They’re watching us. I’m telling you. I’m not stupid. I wasn’t brought in on a banana boat.’

  ‘They can watch me as much as they want, I’m not dealing anymore. You’d better make sure they don’t catch you in the act.’

  ‘And another thing: Skinner’s gone and fessed up to me that he did the firebombing.’

  ‘What?’ I ask, surprised.

  ‘He asked me to go down and see him at his little flat. He was crying in his living room on his couch. Crying like he had a broken heart. I thought he was gonna kill himself. I was dead worried about him.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said he was dead sorry about everything. I said, “I know it was you, Skinner. I know you done that with the bomb and all that.” He said, “You don’t understand what I’m going through.” Money this, money that, blah, blah, blah, and all that. I said, “That’s not my problem. You shouldn’t have done that to me ’cause I helped you out so many times.” I gave him money and stuff when I shouldn’t have done. I said, “Why’d you go and do that to me? I’m done with you.” And that’s when he told me he did it and said he was sorry. I never told Wild Man ’cause he would have just gone straight over there and murdered him.’

  ‘Anything else I need to know about?’

  ‘The black Impala’s been round again. He’s been going up and down the road. Grady went out there, knocked on his window and said, “Do you want something?” He chased him up Farmer. He followed the Impala.’

  ‘How did that end up?’

  ‘The Impala fucked off. Grady came back laughing his head off. He said, “I fucked him off, didn’t I?”’

  ‘It sounds like the car that followed me,’ I say.

  The next day, Mari calls: ‘Skinner’s left town.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask, peeping out of my living room window for suspicious cars. ‘Did he say anything to you before he left?’

  ‘Nothing. He was just crying. It’s really weird ’cause he never leaves. Especially ’cause his little girl is here and he loves her. It’s really weird that he was so willing to go ’cause he’s always sat there and said he’d never leave. I even gave him money ’cause I’m tired of his ass. He’s shot at my windows, attacked me in the middle of the night. Too much craziness. I took him to the bus stop. He cried and said goodbye. I said goodbye and that was it.’

  ‘Did he say why he was leaving?’

  ‘He didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to be near him no more. I think it’s just ’cause he has no place to go no more.’

  ‘Do you think he’s up to something?’

  ‘He’s so sneaky. He never talks about what’s going on in his head, but he’s always making plans. He ain’t stupid. That kid was a gifted child.’

  ‘I think Wild Man has put the fear of God in him and that’s why he’s taken off.’

  ‘Wild Man called me the other night. I’m lying there, and I’ve just put the baby to sleep, and I see it’s Peter. He says, “I know, I know, I’m not supposed to call you after ten o’clock because of the baby, but can you come and pick me up ’cause I’m lost somewhere and the Mexicans are coming?” I’m like, “Are you fucking serious?”’

  ‘He’s more out of control than ever.’

  Later that day, I return to Wild Woman’s house, shocked by the debris and glass strewn across the living room. I take a seat. ‘Why’re all your windows smashed?’

  ‘Wild Man went berserk again.’

  ‘What over now?’

  ‘He wanted more stuff. I said, “I’m not giving you stuff to put you in a frame of mind to do God knows what.” I told everyone else, they so much as give him a sniff, I’ll slit their throats, rip their heads off and shit down their fucking necks. They’re more scared of me than him ’cause they’ve seen me step to him. So, they wouldn’t give him anything, and he got pissed off and came to the house. I told him, “You’re not getting none. Now get out.” He kicked off and everyone scattered to their car. He comes
out, picks up a boulder and throws it at the fucking car. It bounced off the bonnet and they screeched off. So, he carried on. He put the boulder through all the front windows. I picked up a big blow fan and chased him down the drive with it. He said he was going off to kill Skinner.’

  That night, Mari finds Wild Man at Skinner’s flat and calls: ‘Wild Man was sat there with a hammer, a golf club, a knife, a screwdriver, a chisel, a crowbar, a fork, all these weapons around him, waiting for Skinner in a chair, watching the front door. I told him Skinner has gone, but he wouldn’t believe me. Joey Crack came in and Wild Man almost killed him with the crowbar. He said, “I thought you was someone else.” He unplugged the freezer, so there was no noise, so he could hear Skinner coming. I just left him there, sweat dripping off him. I couldn’t handle it anymore.’

  There are a few new faces at my kickboxing class, including an older man who insists I spar with him.

  I put a helmet on, bite down on a mouth guard, get in the ring, assume the stance, raise my gloves. We skip around, sizing each other up, probing for openings. We close in. Kick. Punch. Block. Blow. Punch. Block. Kick. Kick. Bam-bam-bam … A few minutes later, we stop, exhausted, panting as if we’ve sprinted hundreds of yards, sweat pouring off us. I rip the helmet off, towel the sweat from my brow and watch the next two in the ring.

  The dojo door opens. A hairless man enters with two children. He has a tough, creepy face and tattooed arms. It’s him! I freeze. He scans the dojo, avoiding looking directly at me. Perhaps sensing I’ve recognised him, he walks out.

  ‘Hello!’ says a girl I know.

  ‘How’re you?’ I ask.

  Before she can answer, an adult calls her away in a fearful tone, rousing my suspicion. My sparring partner hovers like my shadow until the class ends.

  ‘Do you mind if I use your phone to call for Indian food?’ I ask the girl at the front.

  Usually chatty and polite, she recoils as she hands over the phone.

  Why’s everyone treating me differently? What do they know? I make the call and leave.

  Outside, a radio crackles. ‘I see him,’ someone says.

  I’m obviously under surveillance. But if I’m not dealing drugs, what can they do?

  On the road, I’m followed. I collect the food and drive around in circles until convinced the tails are gone.

  At home, I burst into the apartment, trembling, and drop my gym bag. ‘I was followed again.’

  ‘You’re crazy!’ Claudia says, jumping off the sofa.

  I raise my voice: ‘Why do you always say that? Everyone was treating me differently at kickboxing. I saw the bald guy there that Wild Woman was going on about, which freaked me out. He must be an undercover cop. I heard a radio when I got out. Someone said he saw me. And then cars followed me again.’

  ‘No they didn’t! You’re sketching out.’

  ‘Claudia, I heard them outside on a police radio saying they saw me!’

  ‘And that was at the kickboxing place?’

  ‘Outside of it, yes.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Claudia walks to the window and peers out. ‘I don’t see anybody. Stop sketching. Nobody’s out there.’

  ‘They’re probably hiding out in a neighbour’s place or in some kind of undercover van.’

  ‘You’re not doing anything wrong,’ she says, turning to me. ‘Nobody’s trying to arrest you!’

  ‘What’s going to happen if I go to jail?’

  ‘You’re not!’

  ‘Look, if they’re following me around like this it must be something serious, even though I’m not doing anything.’

  ‘I’m not worried. You have to be caught doing something wrong to get arrested.’

  ‘I still don’t think they’re following me around for no reason.’

  ‘Then let’s just go to LA. Let’s figure out the money thing, and let’s just go.’

  ‘You really want to do it? Just go?’

  ‘Yes. If you think they’re really following you, then we should.’

  Over Indian food, we plan our move. We take showers. Make love.

  ‘I love you, Bungle Bee,’ I say in bed.

  ‘Love you, too, Shoggy Bee. Good night.’

  We kiss.

  Claudia falls asleep holding my hand. Her other arm is wrapped around Floppy, a pink and light-brown Build-A-Bear with long flat ears. Listening to her breathing, afraid to let go of her hand in case I wake her up, I replay the day’s events. Got to leave Arizona. Don’t have enough time to organise a move to LA. Maybe get a plane to Seth’s in Michigan until things calm down. But so what if I’m arrested: what can they do if I have no drugs? Surely, they’ll have to let me go. Convinced something bad is going to happen but that there’s time to avoid it, I fall asleep.

  The next day – 16 May 2002 – I rise at 6.30 a.m. to place a trade. Snatching a quick $3,000 profit – money that’ll help us move to LA – puts a smile on my face. I’m staring at the screen when banging shakes the door.

  ‘Tempe Police Department! We have a warrant!’

  My insides clench. I leap up. A voice echoes in my head: Get the hell out! I rush to the door. The peephole’s blacked out. Drug-dealer robbers posing as cops trying to stop me from seeing them? Want me at the door to shoot me first. Feeling the threat from the other side of the door flare up, I back away. I run to the front window, glance out, quake. Police positioned behind cars. Marksmen aiming rifles. Skinner, what have you done? Afraid of getting shot, I duck. Blood surges to my head. Hide in the attic – where there’s hardly any room and they’ll easily find you. Jump off the balcony – and break your legs and probably get shot. Shit! No. Let’s not do that. But what? I struggle to accept I’m trapped. My panic soars. I run to Claudia. Maybe she’ll know what to do.

  She scrambles from the bed – Floppy hits the floor – fixes her pink pyjamas, stares at me, shaking. ‘What should we do?’ she asks, her voice wavering.

  The banging at the door reverberates through my body. My heart beats harder.

  ‘Open the door!’

  Maybe they’ll go easier on us if we let them in. ‘Better open it,’ I say hurriedly, my jaw trembling.

  We get halfway to the door – boom! – it leaps off its hinges. The folly of English Shaun hits me like a punch to the head from Wild Man. Dazed, I want to throw up. Aiming guns, the SWAT team hems us in with a wall of Plexiglas shields. Paralysed by fear of getting shot – instant death – I feel my chest seize up.

  ‘Tempe Police Department! Get on the fucking ground now!’

  I drop. I’m crushed, handcuffed, yanked to my feet.

  A burly man with long hair puts his face up to mine. ‘I’m Detective Reid. English Shaun, you’re a big name from the rave scene …’

  The wolves finally stop howling that it’s party time.

  Where are they now? January 2018

  – Acid Joey was found dead in his swimming pool with his clothes on.

  – Amy attempted suicide in Egypt by overdosing on pills and slashing her wrists but was rescued. She is a schoolteacher in Kenya.

  – Billy the Hippy was found foaming at the mouth with his face turned blue, dead as a result of a drug and alcohol rampage.

  – Carlos the Torturer is serving a life sentence.

  – Claudia is married and has two children.

  – Cody – the sober one – resorted to heroin after our arrests and hung himself at a rehab after he was put on medication with side effects that included suicidal feelings.

  – Desirae lives in Phoenix with her kids.

  – G Dog is serving a ten-year sentence.

  – Gangsta Dan is serving life for a murder committed in the hope of receiving insurance proceeds. His accomplice barricaded himself inside a house to keep the cops out and stabbed himself to death.

  – Hotwheelz lives near London – with me. He delivers produce to restaurants, shops and pubs, grows his own vegetables and is famous for his culinary and cider-making skills.

  – Jaxson had congestive heart fai
lure at 31. After getting sentenced to six years for trafficking meth, he was diagnosed with stage three cancer that has spread to his lymph nodes.

  – Joey Crack got a job promotion, went out to celebrate and died from a heroin overdose.

  – Kelly remarried, divorced and lives with her children.

  – Keoki performs internationally. In 2017, he was arrested in a drug-filled apartment in New York after the authorities arrived to investigate the overdose death of a TV producer.

  – Mari is a dental nurse.

  – Raul is serving a life sentence.

  – Sammy ‘the Bull’ Gravano served almost two decades in a federal prison and was released in 2017. He has Graves’ disease. By email, I have corresponded with his son, Gerard Gravano. The family participated in the hit TV show Mob Wives.

  – Seth works for a financial company.

  – Skinner never returned to Arizona. He works in sales.

  – Sumiko never remarried and is a successful business owner.

  – The Prophet collapsed while on Xanax, hit his head on a table corner and died.

  – Wild Man married and has had only three fights since his release from prison, none of which he started – all of which he won. He now appears in videos on my YouTube channel.

  – Wild Woman lives with her children in England. Daily, her heart beats irregularly, cramps and temporarily stops. She takes fourteen different types of medication to stay alive.

  – The Wolves still howl from time to time, but Dr O, a brilliant psychotherapist (coming in Prison Time, the third instalment of the English Shaun trilogy), taught me how to deal with them.

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