Joseph Wambaugh - The Choirboys

“I know who rides the caboose,” Father Willie pouted.

But Carolina Moon put Spermwhale Whalen’s big arm around her shoulder and helped the hulking choirboy off to her nest while Calvin Potts yelled grumpily, “You’re gonna die in the push-up position, Spermwhale. You oughtta slow down, man your age.”

By now it was after 4:00 A.M. Alexander Blaney had gone home and was at this moment trying to explain to his bawling mother that he had been asleep alone in MacArthur Park and hadn’t been bedded by a tattooed merchant seaman.

And by now Ora Lee Tingle had decided to pull her own choo choo and made public her choice of engineer.

“I want Whaddayamean Dean,” she said.

“Why him? He can’t even understand what we’re talking about,” Spencer Van Moot whined.

“Him first or nobody” said Ora Lee Tingle.

“What’re you trying to say? What’re you trying to say?” asked Whaddayamean Dean blankly and the choirboys cursed and swore and walked in nervous circles.

“Well I’m taking my blankets and going to the bushes in private,” announced Ora Lee Tingle, “and if there’s gonna be a choo choo, I better see Whaddayamean Dean first.”

So then the choirboys squatted and began lightly slapping Whaddayamean Dean on the cheeks and rubbing his wrists and ankles as he stared vacantly from one to the other with a drunken, sincere, idiotic smile that chilled their hearts.

Especially when Spermwhale Whalen stepped out of the brush and said, “Train jumped the track.”

“Whaddayamean? Whaddayamean?” asked Father Willie, not Whaddayamean Dean.

“I mean Carolina passed out. I guess I ain’t so old after all, boys. Just wear em out is what I do.”

“Well passed out or not, I’m next,” whined Spencer Van Moot.

“No you ain’t,” said the glowering Spermwhale Whalen. “We ain’t animals to take advantage of a passed-out girl!”

Then there was wailing and gnashing of teeth in MacArthur Park as several choirboys pleaded in vain with Spermwhale Whalen who of course dominated them all by his age, seniority, courage and ability to kick the living shit out of them.

“What’s the matter with Ora Lee? She’s conscious, ain’t she?” asked Spermwhale.

“Yeah, but she wants Dean first or nobody” Father Willie whined, starting to sound like his partner Spencer Van Moot.

“I see,” said Spermwhale, shaking his head sadly as he looked over at the simpering choirboy sitting on the grass, red hair tousled by Harold Bloomguard who still worked frantically massaging his wrists and neck.

Then Francis Tanaguchi sat by Whaddayamean Dean, telling him exaggerated lascivious impossible things that Ora Lee Tingle was going to do to him, and Father Willie shouted, “That’s exactly what the Dragon Lady promised to do to me the night she phoned and made my wife punch me in the eye! Now I know who the Dragon Lady works for, ya dirty Godless heathen little fuck, ya!”

And temporarily everyone forgot Ora Lee and looked at Father Willie in astonishment because he had uttered the second vulgarity of his life.

“I can’t help it,” Father Willie said sheepishly “That was the dirtiest trick anyone ever played on me.”

“Lemme try,” said Calvin Potts. “Since Dean can’t understand regular English I think you should talk to him like we talked to the whores in Vietnam. We always managed to communicate and they couldn’t talk no English.”

Several choirboys agreed that it was worth a try so Calvin knelt in front of the placid redhead whose face from eyebrows to chin was caked with dried barbecue sauce and tried pidgin. “Ora Lee like bang bang. Her plenty good. All time bang bang. Plenty good. You sabby?”

And Whaddayamean Dean clapped his hands happily and chuckled.

“Jesus, you’re just entertaining him,” said Spencer Van Moot. “That ain’t getting us nowhere. He ain’t a gook. That rice paddy talk ain’t the answer.”

“You got a better idea?” Calvin asked.

“Yeah I do,” said Spencer. “I been analyzing this. He’s sitting there now with the mind of a three year old, right?”

“Approximately” nodded Harold Bloomguard.

“Okay,” said Spencer. “We couldn’t tell a three year old to go screw in the bushes, could we? You have to talk to a three year old like a three year old.”

Spencer Van Moot elbowed Calvin out of the way and squatted in front of Whaddaymean Dean. “Spencer has secret for Deanie,” Spencer said desperately “Ora Lee loves Deanie. Ora Lee take Deanie and blow up like biiiiiig balloon!” And Spencer Van Moot drew a biiiiiig sausage-shaped balloon in the air before the watery eyes of Whaddayamean Dean who sat cross legged in his barbecue-stained Bugs Bunny sweatshirt and clapped his hands like an infant. And squealed.

“My God, he’s regressing,” said Harold Bloomguard grimly.

“He’ll be spitting up in a minute,” Father Willie observed.

“We’ll have to burp him, for chrissake,” said Francis Tanaguchi.

“All right, all right, outta the way!” said Spermwhale Whalen, staggering forward and sitting on the grass next to the simpering redhead who now had his hands folded uselessly in his lap, his brain marinated.

“Gimme a can a beer,” Spermwhale said and Baxter Slate flipped him one.

While the other choirboys watched, Spermwhale popped it open and soaked a paper napkin in beer and sat in front of Dean and washed all the barbecue from his face and plastered down the tangle of hair as Whaddayamean Dean sat unprotesting.

When the young man was cleaned up Spermwhale said, “Listen. Dean. Listen, son. It’s me, your da da. It’s Spermwhale. You know me, don’t ya?”

And Whaddayamean Dean licked his chops happily and cried, “Beer! Beer!”

“No no,” said Spermwhale Whalen. “First you listen. Then beer beer. Get it?”

Whaddayamean Dean eyed them all craftily and chuckled at some private joke.

“Now, Dean, my boy we been pals awhile and I know you trust old Spermwhale. So listen careful. This thing that booze does to you, turnin you into a carrot, this ain’t a good thing for you. You gotta master the effect a that booze. I been doin it for years. Remember when I flew us on that Palm Springs raid, dead drunk?”

And Whaddayamean Dean filled their hearts with hope, for he nodded at all of them.

“That’s right!” Spermwhale said. “You do remember! See, I know you understand. Just concentrate. Okay, so here’s what’s happened tonight. Old Spermwhale’s just too much man and screwed old Carolina Moon till she went fast asleep. Now that means there’s only Ora Lee Tingle to pull that train for a few a the boys. And guess what? She picked you first. And that means you gotta go over there behind those bushes and show Ora Lee what a sport you are. And then maybe a couple a other fellas can get on the track. Get it?”

But Whaddayamean Dean cocked his head and wrinkled his brow in confusion and filled their hearts with dread.

“I’ll make it simpler, son,” said Spermwhale. “You just gotta go over there and do a number on Ora Lee, that’s all you gotta do. So I want you to stand up now and show these fellas that my boy ain’t no radish. Now you just listen to old Spermwhale and go over there and fuck old Ora Lee’s socks off. Get it?”

The eager ring of faces shone sweatily in the moonlight and no one breathed as the grinning simpering redhead struggled valiantly with the words. They came and went from his consciousness and at times almost hung together coherently.

Finally he looked Spermwhale Whalen dead in the eye and raised a hand to the oldest choirboy’s pink jowls and said sincerely, “Whaddayamean, Spermwhale? Just tell me what you mean.”