Street. A small village in the Chilean Andes
had been almost totally destroyed that morning by a volcanic
eruption; one hundred and twenty-five villagers were missing or
identified as dead. He watched for a few more minutes, recognizing
the potential hazard to his country—Catastrophic Isostasy would
soon be kicking in, if something were not done quickly.
Declan hurried to the
closest Muni stop and caught a bus for home.
Inside his apartment in
the heart of the ‘loin, he took his seat
and waited, staring at the blank TV screen. He didn’t have to wait
long, only a few minutes, before Lady Justice appeared.
Ah, Declan, you know about
the village in the Andes ?
Yes .
This time, your operation
involves only one target. Edwina Sanchez, a recent illegal
immigrant from Chile, a man who dresses like a woman and works the
sex trade in the Tenderloin. He is very tall—six foot two—speaks
with a heavy Spanish accent, and usually wears a blonde wig. Late
in the evening, Edwina solicits business in front of the Majestic
Arms Hotel around the corner on Jones. You must complete the
operation tonight. Is all that clear?
Yes, it is, Declan thought, nodding.
Your acquaintance on the
scooterboard will be able to help locate Edwina
Sanchez .
Declan knew she was
referring to his friend Short Stuff, a double-leg amputee Marine
vet of Vietnam, now a street hustler who knew everything that
happened in the ‘loin.
As it got dark,
traffic increased on Jones Street. Some
cars slowed as they moved by the Majestic and a chilling fog clung
to the dirty brick facade of the once grand hotel where many of the
ground-floor rooms were now available for a $5-hourly
rate.
When Declan first walked
up, Sweet Jane hit on him, all tricked out in her low-cut red
blouse, black vinyl miniskirt, and red high heels. She grabbed him
possessively, rubbing her breasts against his arm and licking her
glossy lips suggestively. “Hey, man, you ready to party or what?”
the redhead asked, her heavy perfume flaring Declan’s
nostrils.
He shook his head but
smiled. “Can’t tonight, Sweet Jane. Looking for Edwina?”
“ Tall tranny, speaks
funny?”
He nodded.
“ Hey, man, whatcha want
with that fake shit?” she asked, reaching down with one hand and
making a lewd grabbing gesture at her own crotch. “You know you got
the real thing right here.”
“ Nah, it ain’t like that,”
he explained, embarrassed by her implication. “This ain’t actually
a partying deal. He owes a friend some money.”
Sweet Jane smiled and
winked. “Okay, man, see you later then?”
“ We’ll see,” he said, not
explaining that he’d given up all forms of partying. No drugs,
booze, or women since he’d first been visited by Lady
Justice.
The redhead moved away,
exaggerating her hip swing for Declan’s benefit. He watched her
walk half a block, then wave at an emerald green Mercury Topaz that
braked and pulled over to the curb. A moment or two of negotiation,
then Sweet Jane hopped into the front seat of the car. She’d caught
a live one.
Around 11:00 p.m., Declan
spotted his amputee friend pushing his way
on his scooterboard along the sidewalk.
“ Yo,” Declan said, offering
his fist.
“’ Sup, Irish?” Double S
said, lightly punching Declan’s knuckles.
“ Just kicking here at the
hotel, watching for Edwina,” Declan said, trying to sound casual.
“You know the dude? He owes my friend money.”
“ Yep, jus’ seen him workin’
traffic ‘round the corner by Homeboy’s ‘bout ten minutes ago,”
Double S answered, firing up a smoke.
“ All right, bro, buy
yourself a taste,” Declan said. He tapped Double S’s fist again and
slipped him a couple of bucks before limping off for the liquor
store around the corner.
Declan lured Edwina down
an alley half a block up from
Homeboy’s with a $20 bill paid in advance
for quick sex. As the tall transvestite kneeled on a piece of
cardboard in the darkened alley, Declan carefully
had been almost totally destroyed that morning by a volcanic
eruption; one hundred and twenty-five villagers were missing or
identified as dead. He watched for a few more minutes, recognizing
the potential hazard to his country—Catastrophic Isostasy would
soon be kicking in, if something were not done quickly.
Declan hurried to the
closest Muni stop and caught a bus for home.
Inside his apartment in
the heart of the ‘loin, he took his seat
and waited, staring at the blank TV screen. He didn’t have to wait
long, only a few minutes, before Lady Justice appeared.
Ah, Declan, you know about
the village in the Andes ?
Yes .
This time, your operation
involves only one target. Edwina Sanchez, a recent illegal
immigrant from Chile, a man who dresses like a woman and works the
sex trade in the Tenderloin. He is very tall—six foot two—speaks
with a heavy Spanish accent, and usually wears a blonde wig. Late
in the evening, Edwina solicits business in front of the Majestic
Arms Hotel around the corner on Jones. You must complete the
operation tonight. Is all that clear?
Yes, it is, Declan thought, nodding.
Your acquaintance on the
scooterboard will be able to help locate Edwina
Sanchez .
Declan knew she was
referring to his friend Short Stuff, a double-leg amputee Marine
vet of Vietnam, now a street hustler who knew everything that
happened in the ‘loin.
As it got dark,
traffic increased on Jones Street. Some
cars slowed as they moved by the Majestic and a chilling fog clung
to the dirty brick facade of the once grand hotel where many of the
ground-floor rooms were now available for a $5-hourly
rate.
When Declan first walked
up, Sweet Jane hit on him, all tricked out in her low-cut red
blouse, black vinyl miniskirt, and red high heels. She grabbed him
possessively, rubbing her breasts against his arm and licking her
glossy lips suggestively. “Hey, man, you ready to party or what?”
the redhead asked, her heavy perfume flaring Declan’s
nostrils.
He shook his head but
smiled. “Can’t tonight, Sweet Jane. Looking for Edwina?”
“ Tall tranny, speaks
funny?”
He nodded.
“ Hey, man, whatcha want
with that fake shit?” she asked, reaching down with one hand and
making a lewd grabbing gesture at her own crotch. “You know you got
the real thing right here.”
“ Nah, it ain’t like that,”
he explained, embarrassed by her implication. “This ain’t actually
a partying deal. He owes a friend some money.”
Sweet Jane smiled and
winked. “Okay, man, see you later then?”
“ We’ll see,” he said, not
explaining that he’d given up all forms of partying. No drugs,
booze, or women since he’d first been visited by Lady
Justice.
The redhead moved away,
exaggerating her hip swing for Declan’s benefit. He watched her
walk half a block, then wave at an emerald green Mercury Topaz that
braked and pulled over to the curb. A moment or two of negotiation,
then Sweet Jane hopped into the front seat of the car. She’d caught
a live one.
Around 11:00 p.m., Declan
spotted his amputee friend pushing his way
on his scooterboard along the sidewalk.
“ Yo,” Declan said, offering
his fist.
“’ Sup, Irish?” Double S
said, lightly punching Declan’s knuckles.
“ Just kicking here at the
hotel, watching for Edwina,” Declan said, trying to sound casual.
“You know the dude? He owes my friend money.”
“ Yep, jus’ seen him workin’
traffic ‘round the corner by Homeboy’s ‘bout ten minutes ago,”
Double S answered, firing up a smoke.
“ All right, bro, buy
yourself a taste,” Declan said. He tapped Double S’s fist again and
slipped him a couple of bucks before limping off for the liquor
store around the corner.
Declan lured Edwina down
an alley half a block up from
Homeboy’s with a $20 bill paid in advance
for quick sex. As the tall transvestite kneeled on a piece of
cardboard in the darkened alley, Declan carefully
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