Too Little, Too Late

by Marta Tandori

  “Liz, I know you’re in there.”

  There was no mistaking Otis’ voice. “Go away!”

  Thankfully, he must have decided to leave because there was only silence after that. She was about to slide back into her stupor when the pillow covering her head was yanked off and thrown to one side. Liz visibly winced when Otis turned on her overhead light, blinded by the intensity of the glare.

  “Shut off that stupid light!” she ordered. “You’re hurting my eyes.” She grabbed the edges of her comforter and threw it over her face to block out the light.

  “Too damn bad!” With one swift jerk, he yanked the comforter down to her waist. “At least I know you’re still alive.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come,” she muttered, “so get the hell out!”

  “Nothing doing,” he told her firmly. “You’ve been holed up in this place way too long.”

  “I took a leave of absence,” she told him shortly. “I’m entitled.”

  “You’re entitled to grieve, kiddo, not turn into a drunken Garbo.” He grimly eyed the empty vodka bottle that had fallen to the floor.

  “You’re not my shrink,” Liz shot back. A sledgehammer was pounding somewhere in the neighborhood of her brain, making it impossible for her to do much of anything let alone argue. “Just leave me the fuck alone.”

  Instead of answering her, he went over to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes. California sunshine flooded the small bedroom, causing Liz to groan in misery as she covered her eyes with her hands.

  “Look,” she tried reasoning with him. “I promise I’ll get up soon. I just need a bit more time, okay?”

  “No way,” Otis replied firmly. “First, you’re going to go have a shower—”

  “--I don’t need a shower,” she told him belligerently.

  He wrinkled his nose delicately. “That’s a matter of opinion. Believe me, the dried puke and oily hair ain’t gonna get any of my juices flowing.”

  “Screw you,” she told him.

  “And after that, you can get your scrawny butt into the kitchen so I can feed you.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “What a surprise,” he replied sarcastically. “We’ll give it a shot anyway.” He pulled her cover all the way down her bed. “Now, are you getting up or do I need to put you in the shower myself?”

  “All right, all right!” she bit out angrily as she sat up. The room immediately started spinning and she grabbed onto Otis’ arm until it stopped.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, frowning in concern. “Try standing up – don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Liz muttered.

  “When was the last time you actually ate something?”

  Her brows furrowed together. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few days ago.”

  “It’s a wonder you can stand at all.” He waited until she was upright before he let her go. “Are you sure you can manage in the shower by yourself?”

  “If that’s your subtle way of trying to score an invite, you can forget it,” she snapped at him with some of her old spirit before closing the bathroom door firmly behind her.

  Half an hour later, Liz had to admit she felt almost human after her shower. And Otis had been right. She had looked a sight with her gaunt features and unkempt oily hair. Wearing a clean pair of pajamas and a fresh robe, she silently made her way to the kitchen, surprised to find Otis the epitome of domesticity as he sliced a fresh baguette. There were two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup already on the table as well as some sliced melon. He looked up from his task when he saw her.

  “You certainly look better,” he remarked before making an exaggerated show of sniffing the air. “And you smell better, too.”

  “Shut up,” she told him, managing a small smile. “Where did all this food come from?” Liz asked, pointing to the bread and sliced melon.

  “I brought it with me.”

  She looked at Otis in surprise. “You?”

  “Of course, me,” he told her. “I do know how to shop, you know.”

  “I’ve just never seen you do it.”

  “It’s one of life’s great mysteries.” He nodded in the general direction of the table. “Now sit down and eat before you keel over.”

  Liz obediently sat down and started spooning hot soup into her mouth. The first few mouthfuls tasted strange but then her taste buds acclimatized. Otis didn’t say much as he munched his way through four slices of baguette and finished off his own soup, all the while watching her like a hawk.

  “Thanks, Otis,” she told him, pushing back her empty bowl. “I guess I probably needed that.”

  “That, and a whole lotta loving,” he replied gruffly. Changing the subject, he pointed to the beautiful urn on the small sideboard beside Liz’s dining room table. “Nice piece. Is it new?”

  “You could say that.” Liz looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s got Mom’s ashes in it.”

  “You had her cremated?”

  “Since our relationship never did cover things like a last will and testament, I figured I’d have her cremated so she could be with me all the time.”

  “Kind of like the opposite of when she was alive, right?”

  “Something like that.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “About what?” she asked him, her voice flat. “How the coroner ruled that Mom died of a broken neck or about the anonymous donation in her name?”

  “Any idea where the money came from?” he asked curiously.

  “Where do you think?” There was no mistaking the look of contempt on her face. “It was nothing but blood money to ease someone’s guilty conscience, that’s all.”

  “Still,” he reproached her, “you should’ve taken it.”

  Liz looked at her friend sheepishly. “Of course I took it. It may have been blood money but I’m not stupid, you know.”

  “Do you think that girl could’ve been telling the truth?” he asked.

  “What does it matter?” she replied bitterly. “The point is that bitch and her friends provoked my mother until she had no choice but to run. That makes them just as guilty as the psycho who actually ran her over.”

  “You should see some of the press that chick’s been getting,” Otis told her in amazement, “all because her mother was in some TV show a long time ago. It’s fucking unbelievable.”

  “Yup. She’s a regular hero. Meanwhile, all that’s left of my mother is in that urn over there.”

  “Are the cops still trying to find the driver of the car?” He picked up the last piece of baguette and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing loudly.

  “Who knows? I keep phoning the police station every couple of days and I always get the same response. It’s still an active investigation.”

  “That’s good news,” he told her. “It means they haven’t given up.”

  “But there’s not much to go on,” she argued, dejection washing over her in waves. “They found the car. It belonged to some guy from Compton who had reported it stolen a few days before my mom was killed. The trail ends there.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I was thinking of quitting.”

  His head shot up. “Why?”

  “Because there are so many unanswered questions,” she told him.

  “And you think you’re the one who’s going to find the answers by quitting your job?”

  “Who else gives a damn enough to try?” she challenged him. “Do you think the cops actually give a crap about another homeless woman? The city’s full of them. Her death just makes it one less person to deal with.”

  “Quitting your job isn’t the solution,” he told her gently. “Besides, you can’t afford to quit.”

  “I have some savings,” she told him.

  “Great! Use it on a cruise to Cabo, but not for this,” he argued.

  “I haven’t made up my mind what I’m g
oing to do yet.”

  “Make sure you run it by me first.” He stood up and began collecting their dishes. “None of this was your fault, you know.”

  Liz didn’t reply. In desperate need of some air, she went out on the terrace and sat down. Otis followed her a few minutes later.

  “We both know it was my fault.”

  “I’ll tell Delaney you need an extra week off,” he offered by way of response.

  She gave him a sad smile. “You can’t keep looking out for me all the time.”

  “Who’s looking out for you?” he scoffed. “I just don’t want to do your crappy runs.”

  “Do you know the funny part, Ote?” she told him. “Even though my mom and I didn’t have a conventional relationship, I really, really miss her.” Her carefully maintained composure began cracking. “I had actually been thinking of taking some time off work to bring her home and look after her for a while.”

  “I know you loved her,” he told her gruffly before guiding her into the comfort of his arms. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  Liz didn’t put up any resistance as the tears coursed down her cheeks. “What am I going to do?”

  “How about living your life for once?” he suggested quietly.

  “I will eventually.” She looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. “Just as soon as I find out who killed my mother.”

  ***

  Karen Devane raced down Orange Street in her Beemer, ignoring the speed limit as she tried dodging the car that had been tailing her since she left Killenby. The passenger window of the car was rolled down and some jerk with a zoom lens was snapping pictures of her. She screeched to the right, narrowly avoiding another car that suddenly appeared in the lane beside her. Two blocks later, she was finally able to shake the car. Great! Her picture was probably going to end up in another trashy rag and her mother would find out she was cutting class again. Like she wasn’t already in enough trouble! Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about class and this time, it was legitimate. She needed to clear up some things with Laurie about the day the woman was killed. Although she had tried calling her friend several times in the past few days, Laurie had been unreachable. She was probably the only kid on the planet who didn’t own a cell phone.

  Pulling into the parking lot at Hollywood High, Karen checked her watch. First period would be over in a few minutes. Laurie never went to first and second got ditched more often than not. She would either be by the bleachers or in the girls’ washroom. Karen hurried over to the athletic field. Scanning the bleachers, she recognized one of the guys from her freshman English class. Although they’d only shared the one class before she left Hollywood High, they had been tight.

  “Pan!” She waved to him.

  Recognizing her, Pan jumped up and came over to her, throwing his arms around Karen in a giant hug.

  “What brings you back, girlfriend?” he asked. “Decided to slum?”

  “I came to see Laurie,” she told him, surreptitiously taking stock of his fishnet stockings and Daisy Duke short shorts. “Have you seen her today?”

  He nodded grimly. “She’s in bad shape, probably coming down off of something.”

  “Where is she?”

  He inspected the black polish on his fingernails before answering her. “Laurie mentioned something about going over to the parking lot at Snowby’s. She’s probably going to do another rail.”

  “Shit!”

  Taking his compact out of the long trench coat he was wearing, he freshened up the hot pink lipstick on his lips. “That girl is outta control!”

  “You think so?”

  “It’s not just me. Everyone’s talking about her and that’s saying something, especially in a place like this where strange is, you know, the norm.”

  “Well, I guess I’d better go find her.” Karen gave him a quick hug before leaving.

  “Don’t be a stranger!” he yelled after her.

  She waved in response as she jumped back in her car and drove the two blocks to Snowby’s, Hollywood High’s official burger joint. The service sucked, the food was sub-par but the kids were allowed to loiter without too much of a hassle which made it a favorite hangout. Karen saw a group of girls she didn’t recognize hanging out in the parking lot and went over to them.

  “I’m looking for a girl called Laurie. Have any of you seen her?”

  “Who wants to know?” asked a tall girl with attitude.

  “A friend,” Karen replied coolly.

  “How do we know you’re a friend?” she countered.

  Just who did this chick think she was? Laurie’s frigging bodyguard? “Look, just tell me where she is. Pan told me she was here.”

  Miraculously, the mention of Pan’s name opened the door for instant friendship. Pan had certainly come a long way. “Why didn’t you say so,” said one of the other girls. “Laurie’s in the back with Sara, behind the dumpster.”

  “Shit!” Laurie behind a dumpster meant she was up to no good. Karen hurried around back.

  “Laurie!” she called out.

  The dumpster was located by the back door, wedged in near the fence, conveniently out of sight, unless someone was looking. Gingerly making her way behind the dumpster, Karen saw the back of a girl’s ass and could hear the sounds of giggling.

  “Hey, is Laurie back there?”

  “Who wants to know?” The question was followed by another eruption of giggles.

  “Her friend wants to know.”

  “Does her friend have a name?”

  Karen bit back her impatience. “It’s Karen.”

  “Hey, whatcha doin’ here?” came Laurie’s slurred question as she looked over her companion’s shoulder. Laurie looked awful, like she hadn’t slept in days.

  “I came to see you,” Karen told her. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

  Laurie’s companion held out a can of air freshener. “Wanna snort? There’s still a few good blasts left.”

  “No thanks,” said Karen tersely before turning back to Laurie. “Come on out of there. I want to talk to you.”

  “You don’t know what it’s been like today,” Laurie told her weakly. “My mom was giving me a hard time this morning because I came home late.” Laurie’s nose was running but she didn’t seem to notice. “Then I got to school and everything just went south after that. Some dyke teacher starts harassing me about a smell coming from my locker. Like everyone’s on my fuckin’ case this morning. Jesus! I just had to get a little somethin’ somethin’.”

  “So you decided to burn out your brain cells by snorting that shit.”

  “Excuse me for not havin’ the fuckin’ cash for an elitist rail!” she yelled.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Karen told her impatiently. “I just want to talk to you.”

  “So talk.”

  “Not here.” She nodded in the direction of the restaurant. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat.”

  “Not hungry,” Laurie replied moodily.

  “Then we’ll get some coffee.”

  Laurie’s rheumy eyes lit up with hope. “How about spotting me some cash?”

  “Maybe.” Karen knew the thought of getting her hands on some cash would make Laurie follow her anywhere.

  The restaurant wasn’t busy this time of the morning and they were able to get a table without any problem. After a waitress had taken their order, Laurie didn’t waste any time in getting to the point.

  “So what’dja want to talk to me about?” Her nose started running again. This time, she used the back of her arm to wipe it away.

  Karen was equally direct. “The day that woman was killed.”

  Laurie started fidgeting with the corner of her paper placemat. “That was bad news, man. Those pigs treated me like shit, cuffing my hands and feet to a fuckin’ bed while I crashed; a totally bad scene.”

  “You could’ve waited until the cops left before getting high,” Karen pointed out.

  “Don’t go bla
min’ me for everything.” Laurie’s tone was sullen. “It was your asshole boyfriend who took off and left me hangin’ with the cops!”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.” After his brief run from the law, Josh had turned himself into Hollywood Division the next morning with an attorney from Albatross Records. He tried calling her once, but Karen refused to return his call. He’d been a jerk for taking off on them and Karen had no immediate plans to hook up with Josh again.

  “Too bad about that crazy chick,” offered Laurie, spooning five teaspoons of sugar into her coffee. “She was totally off the wall.”

  “She’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Yeah?” Laurie took a sip of her coffee. Grimacing with distaste, she added a few more teaspoons of sugar.

  “Are you sure that woman didn’t have anything on her when you searched her?”

  “Like what?” Laurie scratched at a scab on her face.

  “How should I know?” Karen asked irritably.

  “Why’dya care?” Her friend drained her cup of coffee.

  Karen let out a deep breath. “Because my fucking credibility is shot to hell, that’s why! The cops think I’m lying through my face, my mother doesn’t believe me and even my own grandmother’s wondering what the hell’s going on.”

  “Nuthin’,” she muttered vaguely. “She didn’t have nuthin’ on her.”

  Karen shoved aside her coffee cup. “What the hell was she doing there then?”

  “I guess it sucks to be you,” Laurie told her.

  Karen looked at Laurie closely. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nuthin’.” Laurie’s haggard features focused on Karen’s face. “So, are you gonna spot me a twenny, or what?”

  ***

  Her mother was already home when Karen walked through the front door after school. That was unusual. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, with a copy of Truth or Diss in front of her. The rigid set of her mother’s shoulders had Karen’s guard up immediately.

  There was no greeting or smile as her mother got straight to the point. “Where were you today?”

  “At school.”

  “Nice try but the school called me when you didn’t show up for first period.” Eve fixed her gaze on her daughter. “Want to try again?”