Jake Arnott - The House of Rumour

‘I’m okay.’

‘Sure. But, you know, you’re worried about old friends giving you a hard time about moving on.’

‘Uhn…’

‘Arthur can look after you, you know. And we can always get more security if you want it.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And I’m always just down the road. Don’t let those freaks get to you. We’ll get through this. Then you can get back in the studio and do what you do best. Anything else?’

‘No, no, I don’t think so.’

‘Well, if there is I’m in the office all day.’

As Lorraine got up to leave Danny stood also. He reached out his arms clumsily to touch her, as if he was still learning how to make some gesture of friendship. Something between a hug and a handshake. Lorraine smiled.

‘It’s going to be fine. It really is. Just try to relax. We can take our time over all of this.’

‘Uhn… thanks, Lorry.’

She ruffled his hair then turned and left the room. Danny collapsed back onto the couch. He fished the pill bottle out of his pocket, clicked off the lid and carefully poured out the capsules onto the glass surface of the coffee table. He counted them out. He had twelve left. He looked at the label on the bottle.

He was nearly through this month’s prescription. Dr Nielson had told him that he wasn’t going to write him another before the due date. They were for his anxiety and his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, he had said, and it was important that he stick to the recommended dosage. He would have to find another doctor. He picked out two capsules and then put all the other drugs back into the bottle. He went to the kitchen and got a Diet Dr Pepper from the fridge.

Arthur was practising a series of Muay Thai boxing moves on the kickbag when Danny went down to the gym.

‘Hey, boss!’ Arthur called out when he saw him, and gave the bag one last kick.

He was wearing shorts and a singlet, his loosely muscled body slick with sweat. He moved across the floor towards Danny with a little disco hustle punctuated by Sui Nim Tao postures as he launched into the second verse of ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ by Carl Douglas.

Danny broke into a nervous spasm of laughter as Arthur reached for a towel.

‘Whaddaya say?’ he panted, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Wanna boogie?’

Danny shook his head.

‘Come on. Just a little exercise, boss.’

‘Yeah. I want to… uhn… go out.’

Arthur wiped his face.

‘Where d’you wanna go?’

‘Walk.’

‘Right. So, Griffith Park?’

‘Uhn… no.’

‘Elysian Park? Sycamore Grove?’

Danny shook his head, dismayed that after less than one month in his employment Arthur already knew all his favourite cruising haunts. But there was another place he thought of. A tranquil little Garden of Earthly Delights.

‘Cowboy Park.’

Arthur smiled.

‘Cowboy Park?’

‘Uhn…’

‘You mean that little place by the Beverly Hills Hotel?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Kippy yi yay, boss. I’ll get changed and have a car out front in ten minutes. Which one do you want?’

‘Uhn?’

‘Which car, boss?’

Danny thought about it. He had a 1950s electric-blue Cadillac convertible, a 1974 bright-red Pontiac GTO, a silver Mercedes E-Class, a black BMW Z3 and a tan Jeep Cherokee. He could drive none of these vehicles.

‘The Merc.’

They wound down through Laurel Canyon Boulevard onto Sunset with the radio on. As they drove through the Strip, ‘Set Adrift on Memory Bliss’ by P.M. Dawn was playing. Danny felt his heart flutter. He wondered if it was a side-effect of the Adderall or just a scattering of the emotions. He had a fleeting vision of another version of himself, in another universe, crying uncontrollably. He nodded his head gently to the break-beat, sighing to the sighs of the Spandau sample. Reality used to be a friend of mine …

They passed through West Hollywood.

‘Nearly there, boss.’

‘Uhn… tell me about…’

‘What?’

‘The cowboy.’

‘Will Rogers? He was a cowboy actor. Did a vaudeville rope act.’

‘Uhn…’

‘Kind of philosopher too. Homespun stuff, but kinda funny.’

Arthur pulled up at the Will Rogers Memorial Park.

‘Affable.’

‘Affable?’

‘Yeah, affable. He had lots of sayings: if you find yourself in a hole, stop digging, things like that. But you know his most famous saying?’

‘Uhn?’

Arthur gave a deep laugh and put on an Okie drawl.

‘I never met a man I didn’t like.’

The park was a tree-lined enclosure, gently landscaped with manicured lawns and planted borders. Shallow steps led up to a central promenade with raised beds along its centre. Danny walked down to the fountain. He was wearing purple Versace jeans, a Ramones T-shirt, wraparound Ray-Bans, black suede New Balance trainers. When he got to the fishpond he crouched down and looked into the murky water. Koi carp swam in aimless circles. A fat goldfish looked up at him, mouthing mournfully. The creature looked trapped in its dismal element, staring out from another dimension.

Danny put his hand in his pocket. Last time he was here he had thought of bringing breadcrumbs or something, but he hadn’t remembered. All he had was the pill bottle. He took out one of the Adderall capsules and carefully took it apart. It was full of tiny extended-release beads, which he spilt out on to the palm of his hand. As he sprinkled some on the surface of the water the fish came up and swallowed one. Other koi were alerted and joined in the feed, thrashing about, struggling with each other to take some of the bait. Danny wondered what visions the fish might have. Perhaps they would see him as an alien god, feeding them gnosis. He watched until every fragment of the drug was gone then stood up and continued past the fountain.

The restroom was a vine-covered building in a secluded corner of the park. Another man in a hooded top was slowly approaching it from the perimeter path. Danny checked the man was looking his way, as he adjusted the crotch of his jeans, feeling the hardness of hopeful anticipation. The man glanced back at him then entered the restroom. As Danny made to follow him he felt a rush of energy course through his body. But as he reached the doorway he stopped. All at once excitement turned to fear. Panic.

He turned and strode back to the promenade. He felt his heart shudder again and he was sure that he was about to have a heart attack. He would die here, in this little park. He was hyperventilating. He had to calm down. He found a bench and sat down. He tried to exhale slowly, remembering the breathing exercises he had learnt. Out breath, count one, in then and out breath, count two and so on up to ten. It was all right, he told himself. It was going to be all right.

‘Danny?’

He looked up and saw a man with grey hair in a lightweight grey suit looking down at him. It was the man he had seen on his driveway that morning, he was sure of it.

‘Here.’ He offered Danny a small bottle of Evian.

Danny took a sip, wiped his mouth and handed it back.

‘Thanks.’

The man sat down next to him. He let out a sigh.

‘Danny, Danny, Danny,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You really are a lost soul, aren’t you?’

‘Uhn…’

‘Just be glad it’s us watching and not the press. Or the Beverly Hills Police Department.’

‘Uhn… I…’

‘Come back. We can protect you. No one else can.’

Danny shook his head. He must be from the Church, he thought.

‘Those pills, they’re killing you, you know? What you need is niacin, vitamin B3, purification therapy. We can get you clean again.’