American Star

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American Star Page 55

by Jackie Collins


  "Hey-I'm your brother. I should be able to read you, huh?"

  She stopped walking and flopped down on the sand, hugging her knees to

  her chest. "Wait until that little item hits the press."

  He zoomed another pebble and watched it skim across the smooth surf.

  "What, that I'm your brother?"

  "Somebody's bound to find out."

  "I've been thinking," he said, squatting on the sand beside her.

  "What?"

  "Now that we're both getting all this publicity, maybe it's time to go

  back to Bosewell."

  "Really, Nick? Y'know, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night

  and I get all these guilty feelings about leaving Harlan."

  He nodded. "I know what you mean.

  She rushed on. "I always thought I'd send for him, but it was never

  the right time. It would be nice to go back and let them see how well

  we're doing-although I'll catch hell from Aretha Mae."

  He frowned. "God knows why I'd want to see" "Cause you wouldn't let me

  go by myself."

  "You really think we should do it?"

  "Definitely."

  "Okay-so this is the plan," he said, jumping up.

  "What?"

  He reached out his hands and pulled her to her feet. "Now that I'm in

  a position to buy a car, I'm gonna get me the biggest, reddest Cadillac

  you've ever seen. And I'll take delivery in Kansas, then we'll drive

  to Bosewell. How do you like that image?"

  She began to laugh. "With fifty copies of Satisfaction on the back

  seat so you can hand them out. Right?"

  He grinned. "Hey-Bosewell's a small town, maybe they haven't heard."

  "But we'll tell em, huh?"

  "If we're going' back we gotta do it big time."

  "Right on, Nick. When shall we do it?"

  "How about next weekend."

  "Just the two of us?"

  He nodded. "Just the two of us."

  They flew to Kansas and took a cab directly to the car showroom.

  When Nick saw his gleaming red Cadillac it was one of the happiest

  moments of his life. He'd always dreamed about it, but he'd never

  actually thought the day would come.

  The dealer handed him the keys with a shit-eating grin. "Enjoy.

  This little baby's gonna give you plenty of pleasure."

  Nick tried to stay cool-had to keep up his image. He was getting good

  at it.

  "Uh . . thanks."

  "Finest car on the market."

  "I know."

  "Liked you in Night City."

  "Thanks."

  He finally got rid of the dealer. Then he sat behind the wheel of the

  Cadillac with Cyndra beside him and let out a whoop of joy. "Holy

  shit! I got it! It's all mine! It's all fuckin' mine!"

  "It's so fantastic," Cyndra said, bouncing up and down on the seat.

  "Hey, get a load of the radio, look at the chrome, feel the leather. I

  love this freakin' car. I goddamn love it!"

  She leaned across the seat and hugged him. He started the engine and

  switched on the radio.

  "It's my record!" Cyndra screamed. "They're playing my record!"

  "Shit!" he said, grinning. "This day belongs to us!"

  Their plan was to drive to Bosewell, visit Aretha Mae and Harlan, take

  a walk around town and then drive back to L.A. Nick had estimated it

  would take them a couple of days, but they'd both decided they needed

  the break.

  When he and Cyndra had first talked about visiting Bosewell he'd hoped

  that Joey might come with them. He'd called him up and asked. Joey

  said no.

  He wasn't about to argue, and Cyndra was hardly disappointed.

  "Joey's a loser," she'd said. "He always was and he always will be."

  When Joey got out of the drug rehab clinic he'd run straight back to

  New York. Nick had decided he'd done all he could.

  Later that day they arrived in Ripley. Nick had booked them the

  biggest suite in the best hotel. They ordered room service and

  recalled old times. Then they drove around the city, and Nick detoured

  past the spot where the motel he'd spent his first night with Lauren

  was situated. The motel had been replaced with a gas station. So much

  for memories.

  Cyndra stared out at the grimy streets. Maybe it wasn't such a good

  idea coming back. She was starting to remember all the bad things.

  What if she came face to face with Mr. Browning? Would she talk to

  him?

  Hell, yes! She had nothing to be scared of now.

  Early Saturday morning they set off for Bosewell. In the back seat of

  the car were stacks of Cyndra's single and piles of Satisfaction with

  Nick on the cover.

  "We should've found out if Night City played there yet," Cyndra said,

  snapping open a can of -Up.

  "Don't worry, I already did," he said, laughing. "I had somebody

  call-it was on a month ago."

  "Where's our first stop?" she asked, sipping from the can.

  "The trailer park, where else? Then we'll go to the drugstore and

  drive up and down Main Street."

  She giggled. "Handing out records and magazines!"

  "Right on!"

  Suddenly she felt anxious. "Oh, Nick, I hope we've made the right

  move. It feels so strange being back, doesn't it?"

  He glanced out the window. "It sure does. Small-town people stuck in

  a one-gas-station town. I bet nothing's changed."

  "You're probably right."

  He'd gone to the bank before he left and withdrawn a thousand dollars

  in cash. He planned on making an extravagant gesture and handing it to

  Primo. Let the asshole see what a big man his son had become.

  Here, Dad, thought you might need some money.

  Fuck you, Dad. Make the most ofit because I'm nevercoming back.

  He drove straight to the trailer park. They were both startled to

  discover it no longer existed. In its place there was now only wild

  brush, overgrown grass and huge mountains of garbage.

  They looked at each other in surprise. "Probably moved the trailers

  Nick said. "We'd better drive into town-see what we somewhere, can

  find out."

  She squeezed his arm. "Nervous?"

  "Yeah. How about you?"

  She nodded.

  When they reached Main Street they both realized it did not look the

  same. The buildings were different. Everything was different. It was

  almost as if they were visiting an alien place.

  "What the hell happened around here?" Nick said. "I don't recognize

  anything."

  "I guess they've made a lot of improvements," Cyndra said. "Look how

  built up everything is."

  He drove slowly down the street. "Christ! Where's the freakin'

  drugstore?"

  "Look over there," she said, pointing. "Isn't that where Blakely's

  Hardware Store used to be? Now it's like one of those mini shopping

  malls."

  He pulled into a parking space and they got out in front of a bookstore

  and a fast-food place-both new stores.

  "Do you see anybody you know?" he asked.

  She shook her head.

  "Some triumphant return, huh?"

  "How are we going to find anybody?"

  "We'll ask."

  They walked into the bookstore. "Can I help you?" said a woman with

  frizzy gray hair.

  "Yeah, as a matter of fact
you can," Nick said.

  Standing on a ladder behind the woman was a girl stacking books on a

  shelf. She took one look and did a double take. "Oh, my goodness!"

  she said, almost falling off the ladder. "Aren't you . . aren't you

  Nick Angel?"

  "Uh . . . yeah."

  "I saw Night City," she said excitedly. "I saw ithree times!"

  "I guess you enjoyed it."

  She could hardly speak. "Oh, I did! I did!"

  The woman was looking at him with a new respect.

  "How long's this store been here?" he asked.

  ù "Five years," she said. "Although I've only been working here for

  two. Can I find you a particular book? We have a very large

  selection."

  "There was a hardware store here before. Uh . . . Blakely's

  Hardware.

  Have the Blakely brothers still got a place in town?"

  The woman shrugged. "I don't know-never heard of them."

  The girl stepped forward, clutching a raggedy piece of paper. Her hand

  was shaking. "Can I have your autograph?" she asked, staring at him

  as if he was Clint Eastwood.

  He and Cyndra exchanged glances. "Yeah, sure," he said,

  selfconsciously scribbling his name.

  She took the scrap of paper and gazed at it in awe.

  They walked out of the bookstore and stood on the sidewalk. "This is

  what I think we should do," he said.

  "What?"

  "Go see George at the gas station. He'll know everything."

  They got back in the Cadillac and drove to the gas station-a familiar

  sight at last. There didn't seem to be anybody around, so Nick got out

  of the car and walked into the office. Sitting behind the desk,

  speaking on the phone, was Dave.

  "Hey," Nick said in a loud voice. "I got a red Cadillac outside needs

  a lot of attention. Anyone around here care?"

  Dave didn't look up but waved his hand as if to say Don't bother me,

  can't you see I'm on the phone.

  "Where's George?" Nick said, speaking even louder. "Tell the old

  bastard to haul his lazy butt out here."

  Dave covered the mouthpiece of the phone and glanced up.

  Scuse me?"

  Nick burst out laughing. "You fuckin' old fart."

  Dave's mouth dropped open. "Holy cow! Nick! It's you, ain't "You bet

  your ass it is." He beckoned Cyndra into the office. "You remember my

  sister, Cyndra. You've probably heard her record on the radio."

  "Sure have," Dave said, beaming widely. "Everyone's heard it. You two

  are famous around here."

  "We are?" Nick said, getting off at the thought.

  "I saw your movie. Haven't gotten so lucky with Louise in a long

  time.

  Nick walked around the familiar office, remembering old times.

  "Oh, Jesus, it's good to see your ugly face," he said. "We went to the

  trailer park-it's gone. We drove down Main Street-everything's

  different. Where's the drugstore? Where's Blakely's? We come back

  and nothing's the same.

  Dave nodded. "Since the tornado there's been a lot of changes."

  "What tornado?" Cyndra asked.

  Dave rubbed his chin. "You weren't here when it happened?"

  Cyndra looked concerned. "When was that?"

  "The big tornado of 1974. The whole town was darn near wiped out."

  Cyndra stepped forward. "What are you talking about?"

  "Gone. Everything gone. People killed, devastation. You must've read

  about it."

  "Oh, Jesus," Nick said. "We didn't read anything. We didn't know -we

  were in Chicago."

  Dave shook his head. "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you."

  "What about my mother?" Cyndra asked, clasping her hands tightly

  together. "Do you know where Aretha Mae is?"

  "Plenty of people left town," Dave said. "There weren't any jobs

  here-not until we started to rebuild."

  "How about Louise?" Nick asked. "Is she okay?"

  "She's doing good," Dave said. "Fact is we've managed to have us a few

  kids. They keep her busy."

  "Hey, at least there's some good news," Nick said.

  "You can say that again," Dave said, reaching for his crutches behind

  the rickety old desk.

  Nick glanced down and saw that half of Dave's leg was missing.

  "Oh, jeer-what happened?"

  "The tornado," Dave said matter-of-factly. "Cut my damn leg in

  half.One of these days I'm gonna get myself a false limb. Can't afford

  it now, what with the kids an' all. But I manage-doesn't bother me

  that much."

  "How am I going to find my mother and Harlan?" Cyndra asked. "I have

  to find them."

  Dave propelled himself around the table. "I don't know what to tell

  you. Maybe Louise knows-she's always in on everybody's business."

  "Where is she?" Nick asked.

  "Stop by the house. She's at home with the kids. It'll give her a

  thrill to see you. We watched your movie together. Couldn't darn

  believe it was you up on the screen.

  "Are the Brownings still in town?" Cyndra asked.

  "Yep. You know what they say-when the poor get poorer the rich get

  richer. He built another store, he's got two places now. They're

  still living in that big house. The tornado never touched them."

  "Give Louise a call and tell her we're coming," Nick said.

  Dave shrugged. "I would if we had a phone. Things been tough around

  here these last few years. Ring the doorbell and say helloshe'll be

  real glad to set eyes on you.

  "Where's George? I'd like to say hello before we go.

  "George fell victim to the big C. Died last year."

  "I'm sorry, Dave. That's too bad."

  "Yes, we were all sorry to see him go. He left me this piece of

  property, makes life a little easler.

  "I'm sure it does."

  Outside the gas station they sat in the Cadillac and stared at each

  other.

  "Shit!" Nick said. "Nothing but bad news. I don't fucking believe

  it."

  "We have to find Aretha Mae and Harlan," Cyndra said. "They must think

  we deserted them."

  "We didn't desert them. We had no idea what happened."

  "I only hope they're all right."

  "Primo would've taken care of them."

  "Get serious, Nick. Your old man probably ran the moment it

  happened."

  "Yeah, you're right. But don't worry, we won't leave until we find

  em."

  Louise was not the same sharp-tongued woman they'd once known.

  She looked twenty years older and thirty pounds heavier. She stared at

  Nick with saucer eyes, as if she was a fan. "OhmyGod! OhmyGod!" she

  kept repeating, wiping her hands on a grubby apron. A couple of

  whining toddlers crawled on the floor of the untidy living room and a

  baby cried lustily in its crib. The place was rundown and a mess. So

  was Louise.

  "Let me make you a cup of coffee," she said, after she'd gotten over

  her initial shock. "I can still do that."

  "I'm sorry about Dave," Nick said, shaking his head. "I never knew.

  We took off for Chicago-and that was the last we heard of Bosewell."

  "You're lucky to have missed it. A lot of people lost everything.

  Fortunately, there weren't too many died, but it was an unbelievable

  scene, like someone dropped a big fat bomb on us."

  "Who
got killed?" he asked.

  "Remember that girl you liked-Lauren Roberts?"

  "Lauren's okay," he said quickly. "I just saw her in New York."

  "No-not her, but both her parents. Her mother was carried away in her

  car-literally swept up into the air. It was terrible. And her father

  was in his office when the entire block got wiped out. He was killed

  instantly. So was his secretary."

 

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