address and phone number. She already let it slip that you lived in Reno. Why the hell would you move up there? There ain’t much to it if I remember right. I have a cousin who lives in Fernley and we used to visit him there and then stay in Reno for a couple days. What a shit hole that place is. But I’ve been meaning to visit him and when I do I’ll come up and visit you, too. Things with me went crazy for a while. I got into a fight with this guy and they threw me in jail and then the guy pressed charges. I had to get a lawyer and it’s all costing me a lot of money, but it should turn out all right. Then I rolled the Cadillac and broke my collar bone. I couldn’t work for a couple months. I just laid there in my apartment and read books and listened to the radio. I saved the Cad’s engine and some parts but all in all it’s ruined. Luckily I was in the boonies and didn’t get a ticket. Warren’s dad came out with a flatbed and we got the Cad on it and then dropped it off at Warren’s work. I picked up another Cad not too long ago and I’m going to rebuild it with the parts from the wrecked one on my days off.
I quit taking speed three weeks ago. I have a few beers but I’m off the other shit for good. It was harder than I thought, but with you leaving and then the car and the trouble with that guy, I figured it was about time.
I’ve decided I really am gonna be moving North. Like I always wanted. Just draw a line and go. A Northline. The farther north, the better. Away from everyone. Away from all the weirdos and freaks and Mexicans and Niggers. From everything like that. I figure the farther North you go, the better it’ll be. A place saner and normal. Simpler. Maybe get a place out in the woods. Maybe Alaska. Away from Vegas anyway. I want you there with me, and I know deep down you want that, too. So give me your phone number. I’ll come up in a couple weeks and we can work things out. I’m sure sorry about everything that happened, but it ain’t right you just leaving either. So it makes us about even in my book so call me. I’m at the same number.
I still want you back, and will see you in a week or so.
I love you
Jimmy
Chapter 23
Doc Holiday’s
She burned the letter in the sink and started crying. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and her lost baby. She started to hyperventilate and her stomach got upset. She tried to lie in bed but she was too nervous. She called the phone company and changed her number in case her mother had given it to him. She knew she should move again, to a different town, but she was worn out and just the thought of it made her anxiety worsen.
After a while, just being in the apartment frightened her so she got dressed and headed downtown. She passed Louis’s Basque Corner and the Last Dollar bar, St Vincent’s thrift store, and the Fireside Liquor Store.
It was just past noon when she walked into Doc Holiday’s. The bar was long and narrow and rundown. There was a jukebox playing. The bartender wore mirrored sunglasses and his hair was cut short, shaved on the side like a military recruit. He wore a long sleeved brown shirt, and his hands were covered in home-made tattoos. The girl sat at the bar and ordered a vodka and 7UP. She paid for it, drank it, and then four more after it. Three hours later two men, both dressed in suits, sat near her. Then they came over to her.
‘My name is Red,’ one of them said. He put his hand out, but she didn’t take it. He was dressed in a blue suit and wore rings on each hand. His hair was red and blown dry with gel. He wore cologne and there was a gold chain hanging from his neck.
‘I work down the street at City Pawn. His dad owns the place.’
‘Hi,’ the other man said. ‘My name is Marty.’ Marty had short brown hair, wore a green suit, and was built thick, stocky. He was overweight and had acne scars all over his face.
‘Hello,’ she said drunkenly.
Red bought them all a round. Tears welled in her eyes.
I quit taking speed three weeks ago. I have a few beers but I’m off the other shit for good. It was harder than I thought, but with you leaving and then the car and the trouble with that guy, I figured it was about time.
I’ve decided I really am gonna be moving North. Like I always wanted. Just draw a line and go. A Northline. The farther north, the better. Away from everyone. Away from all the weirdos and freaks and Mexicans and Niggers. From everything like that. I figure the farther North you go, the better it’ll be. A place saner and normal. Simpler. Maybe get a place out in the woods. Maybe Alaska. Away from Vegas anyway. I want you there with me, and I know deep down you want that, too. So give me your phone number. I’ll come up in a couple weeks and we can work things out. I’m sure sorry about everything that happened, but it ain’t right you just leaving either. So it makes us about even in my book so call me. I’m at the same number.
I still want you back, and will see you in a week or so.
I love you
Jimmy
Chapter 23
Doc Holiday’s
She burned the letter in the sink and started crying. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and her lost baby. She started to hyperventilate and her stomach got upset. She tried to lie in bed but she was too nervous. She called the phone company and changed her number in case her mother had given it to him. She knew she should move again, to a different town, but she was worn out and just the thought of it made her anxiety worsen.
After a while, just being in the apartment frightened her so she got dressed and headed downtown. She passed Louis’s Basque Corner and the Last Dollar bar, St Vincent’s thrift store, and the Fireside Liquor Store.
It was just past noon when she walked into Doc Holiday’s. The bar was long and narrow and rundown. There was a jukebox playing. The bartender wore mirrored sunglasses and his hair was cut short, shaved on the side like a military recruit. He wore a long sleeved brown shirt, and his hands were covered in home-made tattoos. The girl sat at the bar and ordered a vodka and 7UP. She paid for it, drank it, and then four more after it. Three hours later two men, both dressed in suits, sat near her. Then they came over to her.
‘My name is Red,’ one of them said. He put his hand out, but she didn’t take it. He was dressed in a blue suit and wore rings on each hand. His hair was red and blown dry with gel. He wore cologne and there was a gold chain hanging from his neck.
‘I work down the street at City Pawn. His dad owns the place.’
‘Hi,’ the other man said. ‘My name is Marty.’ Marty had short brown hair, wore a green suit, and was built thick, stocky. He was overweight and had acne scars all over his face.
‘Hello,’ she said drunkenly.
Red bought them all a round. Tears welled in her eyes.
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