The Hollywood Trilogy by Don Carpenter

know, people walking their dogs in front of your house and letting them crap on your lawn.”
    This conversation was careening off the track. “Pepper, huh?” I said. “Sounds like a cute little guy.”
    â€œHe’s the third or fourth Pepper we’ve had. My daddy takes them out rabbit hunting and gets drunk and excited and shoots the dog instead.”
    â€œYour daddy sounds like an interesting man,” I said.
    â€œOh, Daddy loves to hunt rabbits. He says you can learn more hunting rabbits than you can going to college.”
    â€œDid you go to college?” I asked.
    â€œNo, and I didn’t hunt no rabbits, either. They sent me to the New York City Ballet troupe when I was eleven, and after that drove me crazy I did underwear modeling until I had a nervous breakdown, then I went back to Texas and realized I hat’nt had a nervous breakdown at all, it was just New York. But no matter what, I like it better’n Texas.”
    She started talking about Texas and her daddy and her uncles, nothing big or important, just little conversational items about her family, leaning back with the sun hitting her face, relaxing; and I nodded and said uh-huh and picked at my toenails. Just a quiet day in L.A. My palms were dry again and I felt good. She seemed to have forgotten my stupid remark, in fact, she seemed to have forgotten we were supposed to be heading for the beach and Karl’s house, just relaxed and beautiful.
    â€œOh, look,” she said. “A butterfly way up here.” She was pointing at a big yellow and black butterfly who was fooling around the jade plant the hotel had growing out of a big cement pot on the terrace.
    â€œAren’t they beautiful? ” I said.
    She went on to talk about her life as a teenage model in New York and made me laugh a couple of times, not just to get her in the mood, but real laughs, this girl was pretty funny. The mood was coming back, everything was going to be all right.
    Except for that goddamn butterfly, who had managed to get caught in the web of a spider under the overhang of the building right above the Frenchdoors, now open, that led to my bedroom. While she talked about life in Manhattan I sat still, praying she wouldn’t turn around to see the spider rush out of his hole and grab the butterfly.
    Maybe it went something like this:
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  BUTTERFLY : Oh, help, help!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  SPIDER: I’m coming, I’m coming!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  BUTTERFLY : Oh, help!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  SPIDER: Here, let me give you some medication. There, does that feel better?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  BUTTERFLY: Oh, thank you. I feel sleepy now.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  SPIDER: Here, let me fold those wings of yours, you must be tired.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  BUTTERFLY: Oh, so sleepy . . .
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  SPIDER: Let me just drag you here into the shade . . .
    While all this was going on over my head, Sonny talked about herself and never noticed. I alternated between her face and the dinner show overhead. When the spider had finally folded the butterfly into a handy package and hauled it out of sight, I was sitting almost at her feet, listening rapt.
    It was up to her to touch me, she knew what we were there for, and I was plenty close enough to touch, but she didn’t touch me.
    â€œYour hair,” I heard myself say. I reached out and touched her hair. She turned toward me. There was no expression on her face, her mouth a little open, her eyes looking right into mine, eyes like blue opals, and I pulled her to me and kissed her.
    First kiss.
    Soft little mouth, I put my tongue into it and felt her shiver all over, and then my hand slipped and I fell on my knee beside her loungechair.
    â€œ Ouch , godd amn it!” I said. My knee really hurt . I stood up and she started to laugh and then saw the pain in my face.
    â€œOh, you hurt