HOPE FOR CHANGE... But Settle for a Bailout

by Bill Orton

  “Your father,” said the doctor, looking to the drawn curtain separating the two beds.

  “… what… a… bout… him…?” came a weak voice from behind the curtains.

  “He’s obviously a fighter,” said the doctor, to Larry. “That will serve him well, as it’s. gonna be a fight, but he might just pull out of this. Depends on his spunk.”

  “He’s got plenty of that,” said Lori.

  .

  “Seriously, your dad, dude?” said Ed. “Man, it’s a family affair.” Ed pulled back the curtain separating the two beds and went to the gurney. After a moment fumbling with the wheel locks, he rolled the gurney closer, such that Larry sat between his grandmother and father. “In case you wanna do double hand holding duty,” said Ed.

  “He’s out,” said Larry.

  “… nooo… he’s… not…,” whispered Calvin.

  “Me, I bet on the old man making it,” said Ed.

  Larry groaned, while turning his chair so he was sitting such that he could reach to hold hands with Emma and Calvin.

  “When’s Lori coming back?” said Ed.

  “She’s just at the cafeteria,” said Larry.

  “She eats actual food?” said Ed.

  “She’s training,” replied Larry.

  “Thought she missed it at the regionals?”

  “Gotta be ready,” said Lori, entering. “Thanks for sleeping with my girlfriend, Ed. Jeeze, man.”

  “… hhh… hottt….”

  “You said it yourself,” said Ed, “She’s a big girl.”

  “… st… stuff….”

  “You certainly found that out after riding in Larry’s limo and partying her up in Vegas,” spat back Lori.

  “It’s Ralphie’s car,” said Larry.

  With Ed holding Emma’s hand, Lori took a chair next to Calvin, holding his hand. “Grr… no….”

  “Yeh, yeh,” said Lori, glowering at Ed.

  “So, Larry,” said Ed, “sorry I didn’t do the third-degree on your missed calls. Guess it’s good I gave you a methodical list so you could call them all back. Sounds like you made a lot of people happy spreading the capitol.”

  “Sounds like you have no problems spreading capital, yourself,” said Lori.

  “No, please,” said Larry, stuck between two hands.

  “My client seemed to enjoy himself,” said Ed, “especially relaxing in the jacuzzi.”

  “No...,” plead Larry. “Please.” Larry let go of both Emma and Calvin’s hands and quickly scanned the room, before getting up. Walking unsteadily to the bathroom, he grabbed for a bedpan, but let go with an expulsion of vomit before he could reach it. A moment later, he was over the bowl, retching. Lori quickly rushed in, and stroked Larry’s back.

  “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

  On the bed, Larry’s phone buzzed. Ed, standing, took the call. “Mr. van der Bix’s phone. How....” Ed pushed loudspeaker and a voice, speaking in heavily-accented English, echoed through the room.

  “Lar-ry? Are you van der Bix?” asked the caller. “I am van der Velden.”

  “Anekee!” came an excited voice from the bathroom. Larry rushed to Emma’s bedside and pulled the phone from Ed’s hand and put it to his ear. “Anekee?”

  “Lar-ry?”

  Ed silently waved to Larry, and pointed to his own chin.

  “I am now arrived for meeting you,” said the accented voice.

  “You’re at the airport?”

  “Yes,” said Anekee. “Me, child and translator, who is also nanny and traveling friend.”

  “I’ll send a car to meet you,” said Larry.

  “I’ll go,” said Ed, “I doubt Ralphie knows what she looks like,” Ed said, while continuing to point to his chin. “You’ve got… right there….”

  “I bet you know what she looks like,” said Lori, drawing close to Larry.

  “My driver can be there in an hour?”

  “The Los Angeles,” said Anekee. “The International terminal. Swiss Air.”

  “I’ll call Ralphie,” said Ed, walking to the door. He pointed to the corner of his mouth, “You got throw-up on your face, man....”

  .

  Anekee van der Velden entered Emma and Calvin’s hospital room like a movie star – wearing stylish, oversized sunglasses; bags hanging from her shoulder bearing logos of New York and European designers and an entourage – a toddler and nanny – in tow. Wearing form-fitting jeans and a white turtleneck that hugged her spectacularly disproportionate body, she smiled naturally and broadly when she approached Larry, whose own smile looked oddly natural.

  The two mashed their bodies together into a long embrace, which went on long enough that others in the room began commenting.

  “Damn,” said Ed.

  “Okay, guess that one’s been pent up,” said Lori.

  “Swe… eeet... shuggg... grrrr… tits…,” groaned Calvin.

  “C’mon, Ed,” said Lori. “It looks like these two have some catching up to do. Why don’t we take her daughter and friend to get something to eat.”

  Ed, openly gawking at Anekee’s turtleneck, seemed to have missed Lori’s comment. Lori swatted Ed on the shoulder. “Ed!”

  A monitor above Calvin’s gurney began beeping. Lori looked up to the readout, and ran into the hallway. “Need a nurse in here!”

  Lori and a nurse came back into the room and Lori shepherded the nurse to Calvin. “Heart,” said Lori. The nurse looked up to the monitor and then, with apparent urgency, to Calvin, and finally ran into the hallway.

  “Cardiac,” yelled the voice in the hallway. “Code red.”

  “… swe… eeet....”

  Three medical crew ran into the room, with the nurse. The monitor line moved irregularly.”

  “Someone known to you?” asked Anekee.

  “… shuggg….”

  “Defibrillate!” said one of the crew, reaching for a pair of plastic paddles attached to a device on the wall.

  “... grrrrrr....”

  The monitor began to flatline. “Clear!” called out the crew leader, who placed one paddle on Calvin’s upper chest and the other on his left side. Crew members stepped away from the gurney.

  “… tits….”

  The sound of electricity jolted through the room, as Calvin’s upper body bounced upwards from the gurney.

  “Get this patient into ICU!” yelled the crew leader, and swiftly two crew members unlocked the wheels and within seconds, the nurse had transferred the oxygen tube to a canister below the bed and had taken several IV drip bags from the stands and placed each onto Calvin’s body. Seconds later, the crew, the gurney and Calvin were gone.

  From the hallway came, “Clear!” and the sound of Calvin grunting.

  “Um,” said Larry, staring at the door, “yeh… my dad.”

  “Oh,” said Anekee, “I’m sorry for you.”

  “Dude, wow,” said Ed.

  “Larry, do you want me and Ed to take your friend’s daughter and companion to the cafeteria or the playground in the children’s hospital?” asked Lori.

  “No,” said Anekee, “We must sleep. Can you help for that?”

  “Lori, can you get them to my grandmother’s?” asked Larry. “Oh, wait, that won’t work. Have Ralphie take them to my apartment?” Larry turned to Anekee. “It may not be fancy, but it’s clean.”

  “Yes, good,” said Anekee, taking a key that Larry from slipped from his ring.

  Anekee again mashed her body into Larry, who surrendered into her arms. “We talk again on the tomorrow.”

  Lori walked Anekee and her entourage back across the red carpet and out the door, leaving Ed and Larry alone with Emma, who, aside from shifting her body and stretching her arms, had shown little connection to the events of the last few minutes.

  “Okay, Mr. van der…,“ said Dr. Bosch, entering Emma’s room and looking for a moment at the empty spot where earlier Calvin’s gurney had been.

  “ICU,” said Ed. “Heart thing.”

&n
bsp; “Ah,” said the doctor. “Good thing he’s in a hospital.” The doctor stepped up to the bed and began an exam of Emma, who showed sign of responsiveness and fatigue as the doctor leaned in close and whispered into her ear. “Hello,” said Dr. Bosch, cheerfully, and placed a hand onto Emma’s cheek. Emma smiled faintly. “Very good.”

  “Hi hi, Farmor,” said Larry, still gripping Emma’s hand. Her faint smile widened.

  .

  Inside the Lincoln, Larry dialed 411 and got an address for Kashabara’s Place, in Redondo Beach and, after writing it down on a slip of paper, handed the address to Ralphie, before dialing Lawrence.

  .

  “Copenhagen means Copenhagen,” Larry yelled into the phone.

  “Look, Larry, there’s actually pretty strict rules about who can practice medicine in California,” I said. “A doctor or nurse has to have a license in this state. You can’t just fly in medical personnel like you’re demanding.”

  “Lawrence, why are you telling me this now, when my grandmother is coming out of a coma?” Larry demanded. “Have you made any calls to Denmark?”

  “Larry….”

  “And I want to fire Ed,” Larry added.

  “Fire him?”

  “He’s doing the scandal thing here with us, too, and I am mad, so just fire him,” Larry said.

  “Immediately cutting him off wouldn’t be wise,” I advised. Outside the window, it was a beautiful day. I could be cut there. I could just walk away. I could probably just get my old gig back. Dealing with Larry doesn’t have to be the path I choose for myself.

  “Why?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “What?”

  “Nevermind,” said Larry. “I just want him fired.”

  “Ed?”

  “Yeh,” said Larry, “Do it soon.” He hung up.

  .

  “Good job, Bix,” said Lori, leaning into the leather seat. “Bet he takes his time.”

  “As long as it happens,” said Larry,

  Larry’s phone buzzed. “ED.” Larry answered. “What?”

  “Dude, glad your grandmother is starting to come out,” said Ed. “I know she means the world to you.”

  “Um, yeh,” said Larry. “Thanks.”

  “I’ve got a native Italian-English speaker available for translation in bargaining with your Italian woman,” said Ed.

  “I’m not bargaining with Anekee,” said Larry. “She’s my friend.”

  “Anytime you’re creating a business arrangement – especially among friends – there is always bargaining,” said Ed. “Best to have an agreement with signatures. Clear expectations keeps a friendship from going bad, over miscommunication.”

  Larry looked out the window, as the Lincoln snaked its way along Pacific Coast Highway, past the Philips 66 refinery. “Uh, maybe, okay.”

  “Dude, if you like, I can make my translator available to you, and you can conduct talks yourself, but I’d suggest me hashing out the ideas she has, to see what ideas she has. She may he latched onto something that just has no possibility of going anywhere, and that way you don’t have to be the one telling her no. Or, who knows, maybe she’s got something brilliant,” said Ed.

  “I’m the decider,” said Larry.

  “Oh, sure,” said Ed, quietly. “I know…. Just wanted to offer you Gina.”

  “Gina?”

  “My translator,” said Ed. “Nice girl. Met her a few years ago. She did the same thing for me when I bargained with a film company out of Rome that wanted to shoot a western in Arizona. Freakin’ Italians love westerns. Go figure.”

  “Bullshit, Ed!” yelled Lori, laying back in the leather seat.

  “Hi, Lori,” said Ed. “Love you, too.”

  “Look, I don’t know,” said Larry.

  “Think about it,” said Ed.

  “I’ll think about it,” said Larry.

  “I’ll think about it,” repeated Larry.

  “That works,” said Ed, calmly. “Just think about it. Ciao.”

  Larry dropped the phone into the cup holder.

  “He’s so full of shit,” said Lori, sitting up and rifling through the refrigerator for water.

  “He probably does know someone who can translate,” said Larry.

  “Because he slept with her,” said Lori. “Notice, it wasn’t Gino.”

  “I guess some people sleep with a lot of people,” said Larry. “And then there’s people like me.”

  Lori opened the water bottle and took a long drink. “If Ed won’t keep his dick in his pants, then he will eventually cause real problems for you and everyone.”

  “Um, you know, actually, in Las Vegas, he wasn’t the one pushing the women to….”

  “I don’t wanna hear it,” said Lori.

  “But he really didn’t…,” said Larry. “It was sort’a December and the other girl....”

  “Woman, Larry,” said Lori, quickly.

  “I know,” said Larry, softly. “I didn’t mean….”

  “Anyway, I just don’t want to hear it,” said Lori. “Guys with big dicks walk around like they are God’s gift….”

  “I… don’t… walk around….”

  Lori looked to Larry. “Oh, Bix, I’m sorry. I forgot. Ever since the crash, it’s just that that’s so not how I think of you, you know. I didn’t mean to hurt your....”

  Larry looked sullen. “It’s… o….”

  The smoked glass lowered. “Kashabara’s Place,” said Ralphie.

  .

  “Remember,” said Larry, as Ralphie held the door open, “um, what did we say again?”

  “Buyers for a film company,” said Lori.

  “Oh yeh,” said Larry, stepping out of the Lincoln. “Thanks, Ralphie,” he said, as he waited for Lori, who put on sunglasses after climbing out of the car. A fit, 60-something Asian woman stood at the doorway to Kashabara’s.

  “Welcome,” said the woman, as Larry and Lori approached.

  “Hi, we’re from a film company,” said Larry, smiling broadly. “We work in the movies.” After a moment, he added, “Uh huh…, yeh.”

  Lori groaned.

  “I won’t hold that against you,” said the woman.

  Larry pointed to the sign. “Are you... Kash-a-ba-ra?”

  The woman looked silently as Larry, turned and walked into her shop.

  Lori shook her head, as she followed Larry inside.

  “Oh, this looks like the treasure chest,” said Larry.

  Lori looked around and with each item she picked up, seemed more at ease, more interested and more impressed. “You have really good taste, Mrs. Kashabara.”

  “Ms.,” said the woman. “There is no Mister.”

  “Oh,” said Lori, with an immediate correction. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “I’m not.”

  Larry swaggered in an exaggerated John Wayne walk, almost knocking over a bamboo divider after bumping it with his hip. “This is some pretty good stuff, but we’re gonna need a lot more then what’s here.” He idly picked up a lamp, and, without looking at it, put it down a moment later.

  Larry’s phone buzzed. “IDIOT DIRECTOR,” read the screen. “Oh, look, it’s the director calling.” He took the call, pressing loudspeaker.

  “Hal-lowww,” said the accented voice. “Tres, Tres von Sommerberg, from Denmark, the director,” said the voice, as Larry held the phone up and walked to within a short distance of Ms. Kashabara.

  “Yes, Tres,” said Larry. “Good to hear back. It must be about the movie.”

  “Right,” said Tres. “Look, just to tell you, the Royal Troupe will be sending an emissary....”

  “That’s fine,” said Larry. “I’m at a shop now and I think I’ve found most of what the prop people will need for the film.”

  “Prop people?” said Tres, “For the film?”

  “Yes,” said Larry. “Remember, your film?”

  “My film. Well, yes, as Lena explained….”

  “The funding is all here,” said Larry
.

  “Are you kidding?” said Tres.

  “That’s why we’re buying props,” said Larry, lifting a bamboo umbrella, turning it and setting it back down.

  “But the Dogme95,” said Tres, “the manifesto is clear about props.”

  “Emma is soon going to be ready to resume filming,” Larry added.

  “Is it true?” said Tres. “This is amazing.”

  “Anyway, I have to go,” said Larry. “This store is perfect.”

  “But the manifesto….”

  Larry hung up. He looked at Lori, who silently glared back. “What?” Larry put his phone away and turned to Ms. Kashabara. “You know, this is going to be a huge production, and our people are going to want everything you have.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Ms. Kashabara, “but exactly what do you mean by everything?”

  “All of this,” said Larry, with a wide sweep of his arm. “All of the items in your store.”

  Ms. Kashabara turned to Lori, who smiled briefly.

  “And, if you have any other items, say, in a warehouse,” said Larry, smiling. “Everything.”

  Ms. Kashabara crossed her arms. Larry sat down on a tall, dark stool.

  “Get out!” said Ms. Kashabara.

  “What?” said Larry.

  “I don’t know what you game is, but get out of my store.”

  Larry stood up and began to back towards the door, as Lori drew close to him and did the same. “This isn’t a game. I’ll pay whatever price you name,” said Larry.

  Ms. Kashabara went behind the counter and picked up a long-handled broom, which she pumped up and down, before grabbing with both hands. “Get out!”

  “But…,” said Lori.

  “Before I call the police.”

  “But….”

  “Out!”

  Chapter Twenty

  A Shot at London

  Lori opened the second refrigerator in the Lincoln, moved cans and bottles, and pulled out an unsweetened iced tea.

  “You know there’s a safe in that refrigerator?” said Lori, as she opened her tea.

  “That’s where I keep my cold cash,” said Larry, smiling lamely. “Ralphie put it in for me. I paid for it, though.”

  “Be careful about this whole thing, Bix. People get killed for a few bucks here in the real world.” Lori took a sip of tea. Her phone rang.