28. THE SAVAGE TWILIGHT
Las Vegas: Wednesday 30th May 1990.
The sign for Lattrell's Boutique shines like lighthouse beam into the dead of night; I'm trapped inside this fucking sewege pipe and I need cover- I need to get off this fucking street!
Any port in a storm......
The bell rings as I push through the door; I'm sweating and shaking like a mad man- My shirt is stuck to my back...
I was hoping the shop would be busy and I could somehow blend into all the madness happening in this fucking sewege pipe!
"Can I help you?"
Somebody is addressing me...... I don't dare turn around around to face them in case they see my blood splattered shirt, face and chin; I tried to wipe the claret from my face- It's probably fucking smeared all over my gob!
"Fine," I respond. "Just browsing..... Looking around......"
My mind is blank as I look through racks of shirts and vests- Mostly basketball vests and garish sports shirts. American shit.......
I can still feel somebodies gaze burn through my back......
"You looking for something in particular?"
Whoever has just asked the question is now right behind me:
"You on the pipe or something nigger?! You sweating an' shaking like a madman!"
I turn around to leave- He's right behind me: About five foot four; African-American male; looks like he's in his mid-forties; dressed like a teenager with a load of gold- A friend of Hymie's? He's stood right in front of me, blocking my path.
He's shocked when he see's my blood soaked shirt:
"GOD DAMN NIGGA! WHAT THE FUCK YOU BEEN DOIN'?"
I barely have time to answer when the bell rings..... The door opens.....
WHAT?!
HUH?!
My world has just fallen apart.....
A police officer walks through the door. He looks at me..... Then at the bloodstained shirt..... Officer Jacobi.....
..... The guy from the bar.
The guy who tried to warn me about Talia and Sarah......
........ Chap I told to fuck off........ He's on duty.......
"How's it going Latrell?"
I'm frozen to the spot- Staring down at the rack of clothes, secumbing to my own fate.
Latrell turns around:
"Real good Paul. I was just talking to this dude here."
Officer Jacobi looks directly at me and then back at Latrell:
"You heard about what just when down a few blocks that way?"
"Naw man," says Latrell, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. "C'mon man nigger! Spill the beans!"
Jacobi looks back at me and then back at Latrell:
"Some kinda drug deal got fucked up behind a liquor store..... Cowboy Stan got smoked-" "WHAT?!" Barks Larell, his eyes bulging out of his head.
Officer Jacobi is now laughing:
"Yeah..... His guts got shredded like pulled pork...... He was pronounced dead on arrival at general hospital a few minutes ago."
I'm stunned- Latrell is overjoyed at the news:
"DAAAAAHMMMMMN! AHAHAHHAAAAAH! WHO THE FUCK DID IT?! WHO THE FUCK?!"
Officer Jacobi is smiling like a cheshire cat:
"That's why I'm here Latrell. I'm on business, official police business.... Looking for a light skinned brother... Suit... Grey hair... Cane... English....."
I'm frozen as they both look over at me; I don't even dare to look up.
Officer Jacobi asks the question:
"Latrell, you seen anybody matching that description?"
"Nah man, not seen nobody like that....."
WHAT?!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??!!
Latrelle's answer throws me completely...... I'm in freefall......
"Well," Officer Jacobi says, "if you see anybody like that, could you let us know?" They both break out laughing.
...... I'm stunned!
Latrell bids farewell to Officer Jacobi:
"I'll be sure to let y'all know...... After I've shaken that niggers hand!"
Latrell closes the door behind Officer Jacobi and locks it:
"You know...... I seen a ton a high rollers that pass through this place! I've dressed everybody! Rappers, basketball players........ Drug dealers......."
What the fuck is going on?!
"Why are you helping me?" I ask, walking towards him.
"Because," he says, "I'm sick of kicking up to that motherfucker! He takes three hundred dollars every week! I have to pay that motherfucker for doing jack shit! Motherfucker speaks to me like I'm some sorta asshole! Then he takes my motherfucking money! Calls me names an' shit! Last time that John Wayne lovin' asshole came in, oner his hommies knocked over that there rack of sunglasses! Broke my shit up! For no god damn reason!"
He walks over to a rack of jackets and coats:
"Shit! I'm gonna have to kick up to some other motherfucker! But I hate giving money to a shit kicking redneck motherfucker! Chicken shit motherfucker......."
He flings a mustard coloured coat at me:
"Strip."
I'm baffled:
"What?"
"Y'know what you look like nigger?" He asks, pointing directly at me. I shake my head.
"You look like a motherfucker who done blew away Matt Dillon! Gotta get that blood drenched shit off!"
He runs behind the counter and tosses a rubbish bag at me:
"Put that shit in the garbage bag! I'll get rid of the motherfucker......"
Latrells talking a million miles a minute as he flings clothes at me. For all the bad luck I've had, this is the first time in a long time that I've come up trumps.
Latrell notices my foot:
"Never really understood that shit..... Niggers fighting the white man's war...."
I nod.
He throws me a pair of white leather Adidas:
"Damn... You look good man!"
I glance into the mirror...... I see a different man. ........ A new man.
Latrell hands me a black baseball hat with 'Los Angeles Kings' written on the front:
"Pull that shit down nigger! Cover that white ass hair!"
"Why do you use that word," I ask, pulling the hat over my head and over my eyes.
"What? What word?'
"Nigger......"
Latrell looks puzzled:
"Why? W'as wrong wid it?"
I look in the mirror at my new reflection:
"That killed me as a child.... Being called that word.... A nigger.... Made me feel worthless..."
Latrell puts his hand on my shoulder and stares into the reflection:
"That's why we gotta take it back son...."
Latrell fills another two bags with various items:
"If anybody asks.... You just another Cali nigger shoppin' in Vegas son......."
I take some of the coke money and pass it to Latrell:
"I really appreciate what you've done for me. I don't know what i done if-"
"I can't take it!" He says, waving his hands out in front of him. "Nah man....."
I hold the money out:
"I took it from Cowboy Stan.... It's your's anyway......"
Latrell is in hysterics:
"MIGHT AS WELL! THAT REDNECK, CHICKENSHIT MOTHERFUCKER WOULD HAVE PROBABLY SPENT THE CASH ON BEAT ASS 'HOES AND COWBOY BOOTS!"
He takes the money and unlocks the door, smiling:
"Best of luck man! Hail a cab dude.... God be with you......."