PUNKS Ch. 34: California Rewards

August 27

--- Magellan ---

At 11:20 on Sunday morning Joe's phone rang. He stared at it for a moment. He had been awake since five-o'clock. Sleep did not come easy the night before. He spent the morning cleaning his house, not that there was much to clean. A perk of living alone is that no one else makes a mess. He picked up the phone after four rings.

"Hey, baby. I'm leaving now. I'll be there shortly."

"Do you want directions?"

"No. I'm good. I could not get out of this brunch soon enough. I'm dying to see you and take the tour of Venice."

"The traffic will be thick. You're a tourist. It'll take you forty minutes this time on Sunday."

"It's only seven miles from here to there."

"That's forty minutes for a tourist in beach traffic."

"Well then, I better get off the phone. See you in forty."

"Call me when you get lost."

Sixty-five minutes later Joe's phone rang.

"Hello, Ming Chinese Garden. Can you hold please?"

He heard Tina cuss and hang up. A minute later his phone rang again.

"Hello, Ming Chinese Garden, can I take your order?"

"What number is this?"

"Ming Chinese Garden."

Tina went silent and then heard Joe tittering.

"Joe! What the hell? Do you have any idea how frustrated I am right now?"

"Where are you, T?"

"I'm near the corner of Lincoln and Washington."

Joe remained quiet.

"Joe?"

"Did you get lost?"

"I think I'm really close, but I can't find your street."

"I thought you had a map."

"It's the rental car map. It doesn't zoom in enough."

"Okay, Magellan. Take Washington west, toward the ocean. Turn right at the light at Abbot Kinney Blvd. A few blocks up you'll see storefronts on the right with maroon awnings. That's my building. What are you driving?"

"A silver Honda Accord."

"I'll stand on the corner and flag you down when you drive past my building and miss the turn at the coffee shop."

"I'll be there shortly... jerk."

Ten minutes later, Joe saw the silver Honda and walked into the street, standing in her path, pointing down the side street, and waving her in like a traffic cop. Tina stopped at the corner with her window open. She flipped him off.

Joe laughed. "Go behind the building and park beside Ellie."

Joe walked behind her car to his parking lot. He reached her just as she was getting out of her rental. Tina placed a hand on his powder blue '78 Cadillac Eldorado, she ran her fingers over the door and looked up at Joe.

"She looks fantastic."

"I take good care of my baby. She's almost nineteen. We have 194,000 miles and she runs great. I've put a lot of money into her, like the new rag top, but she's worth it. Everyone in the hood knows Ellie."

Tina reached out and pulled Joe in for a hug. "I'm so happy to be here. You have no idea." She kissed his cheek and then looked up at the wooden stairs and second-floor landing deck. "So this is your place?"

Joe pointed to the double doors at ground level. "That's my studio. The middle unit is currently for lease, and the coffee shop has been my tenant since I bought this place in '88. They are the best people."

"And you're upstairs?"

"Yeah. It was two apartments but I did a major remodel in 1990 and made it one. C'mom, let me show you."

Joe led Tina up the stairs and into his kitchen. Tina stopped two steps in and looked around at the open kitchen, dining, and living area.

"I love the black and white backsplash and all the stainless." She stepped in and ran her fingers over the island countertop."This is nice too."

Joe walked a few steps, turned, and watched her take in his life. Tina stepped into the living area, with just a couch, two chairs, a table, and a television. She focused on the decor.

"Where did you get that piece?" she pointed at a muted painting of a forest with blurred trees.

"I bought that in Finland."

She pointed at another painting, "And that one?"

"Spain."

"I like those bowls, very nice."

"Romania."

Tina made her way into the dining area. "It looks like you hired a Japanese decorator."

"I did it myself, but you're right, I bought these prints in Japan and shipped them back, and those pagoda sculptures."

"I like how the black, white, and gray kitchen ties in with the black, white and red dining room." Tina looked at Joe and nodded. "You did well."

"Come this way." Joe led Tina down a short hall off the dining room and pointed into a room. "This is the second bathroom. Just the basics with a small shower." He continued on allowing her to look into another room. "This is the guest room. Over here is another bedroom I use as an office." Tina peeked inside.

"These are nice size rooms."

"I moved walls around to make it so." He gestured to another room. "That small room is storage, but I have my bike and weights in there too."

Joe led her by the hand and stopped in front of double doors. "And this is the master suite." He opened the doors and let her walk in.

Tina went to the center of the room and looked around. The decor was mostly Mexican. He had a mission-style California king, a dresser, and a chest of drawers. In the corner was a reading chair and ottoman. "This is nice, Joe." Tina looked into his master bath. "Very nice. That's a big bathroom."

"Not as big as yours."

"Ours is too big and cold." She looked across the room at French doors. "Is that your balcony?"

"Yeah." Joe walked over, opened the doors, and stepped out. Tina followed. "It's not big, sixteen by twelve, but I spend a lot of time out here."

"This is something I wish we had."

"On the four hundredth floor?" Joe smiled, "might be scary."

"It's the fortieth floor." Tina gestured to the chaise. "And this is where you had phone sex with me." She smiled at Joe and walked toward the rail, looking down at the boulevard. Joe joined her.

"This is Sunday beach traffic," Joe looked down at the busy street, "cars and pedestrians, and skaters, and people on bikes. It's fucking chaos." He turned to Tina, "And I love it."

Joe turned to her, facing Tina, she stood taller. Eye to eye they shared a long moment of quiet. The Pacific breeze blew her purple hair sideways. Across the street, a small old man was sweeping his sidewalk.

"Hey, Joe!" the voice from below called up, "Who is the girl?" The old man made an obscene gesture, making a ring with one hand and fucking it with two fingers. Tina's eyes bugged out.

"Did you see that?" she looked at Joe.

"I did, and it's fucking great." Joe looked down, across the street, "Hey Carlo, can I get a seven o'clock? I know you're busy."

Carlo realized his mistake. "Of course, I will make you a table."

Joe waved, "Thanks, you old pervert!" He turned to Tina. "You have no idea how much fun you're gonna have tonight. Carlo is my friend and he's gonna pay for that fucky gesture." Joe paused. "And then he'll serve us a fantastic west coast Italian meal."

"What's the difference between the east coast and west coast Italian?

"The coast," Joe said, "it's just a good family-run restaurant. I love Carlo."

"I read about him in Rolling Stone."

"Yes, you did. Let's get out there. C'mon." Joe took her hand, "you need to see Venice."

"Should I change?"

Joe looked Tina up and down. "I'd like to see more skin. Do you have shorts?"

"I have capris in the car."

Joe showed her through the French doors into the master suite. "That'll do. What about walking shoes?"

"I have some tennis shoes." Tina followed him in.

"Sandals or flip flops?"

Tina stared at Joe. "I live in fucking Manhattan, why would I own flip-flops?"

'We need to buy you some."

"Why?"

"It's required by law. Every California citizen must have flip-flops."

Tina reached up and took Joe by the neck and pulled him in. Her lips landed on his. Joe did not resist. She lightly caressed his face, looking up at her man. Joe was thinking he might be convinced to stay indoors, to finish what she started yesterday. The look in Tina's eyes was obvious, her look of love.

She kissed him again. "Let's go, show me Venice."

"Where are your capris and tennis shoes?"

Two minutes later Joe was standing in his parking lot looking at Tina's luggage in the rental car trunk she had just opened. He looked at Tina.

She smiled. "You said it was an open invitation."

Joe nodded while reaching into the truck, two hands on two suitcases. "This is good. I'm totally cool with this."

"I thought you might be."

Tina changed into capris and tennis shoes and a Talking Heads T-shirt. She topped it off with a New York Mets cap, and Joe loved her for that. He led her downstairs to the most important place of his mornings, The Daily Grind, still busy in the afternoon.

"These guys were here before me. They came with the building and I love them." He showed Tina through the front door of the coffee shop and up to the counter. The eyes of patrons followed them.

"Hey, Joe!" a voice from a patron called, "What's up with the Red Sox?"

"They're better than the Dodgers, RayRay, that's what up."

RayRay was a forty-year-old black man who played hoops with Joe. A Laker vs a Celtic thing. He eyeballed Tina up and down, and she noticed. Joe noticed. They walked up to the counter.

Annie smiled. "What'll it be, sweetie?"

"Joe, how are ya man," her teenage son reached across the counter and shook Joe's hand, "we need to talk about that Les Paul."

"Don't worry, kid. I won't sell it to anyone. I promise. Just let me know when you're ready."

Joe realized he needed to make introductions, "Tina, this is Annie, my west coast mom." Annie pointed a finger at him. "I'm not old enough to be your mom."

"It's more a nurture and kindness thing, age is not a factor. You're a good mom."

"You're sweet." she turned to Tina, "Did he say Tina?"

"Yes," Tina said.

"Where are you from?"

"New York."

Annie looked at Joe, "This is Tina from New York?"

"I think she just told you that."

"Oh my." Annie came around the counter and hugged Tina. "It's about time you got here, honey. He's been waiting for you."

She stepped back and looked at Joe. "Don't fuck it up this time." and went back behind the counter. Tina was kinda stunned, staring at Joe.

Joe shrugged, "I knew she was going to embarrass me," he raised his voice, "like a mom!"

Annie eyeballed Tina the whole. They ordered iced coffees and one pastry to share on the walk. Joe explained to Annie that T wanted to see Venice.

"Because he talks about it a lot," Tina added.

"He talks about you a lot too," Annie smirked.

Joe gave her a dismissive wave. "She's exaggerating to bust my ass."

--- A Tourist in LA ---

Outside the shop, they crossed the boulevard and walked west toward the beach. Joe talked about the homeless because they passed a homeless man. Then he saw a stripped-down bicycle frame locked to a post and mentioned the property crime.

"We're in LA. What do people expect? We have city problems." He pointed at an elevated house. "See how these properties have garages at street level and the house above? That's my plan for my place. I'll build a deck over my parking lot and expand the apartment above it."

Joe stopped and stared at Tina. "You ate the whole thing."

"I did not."

"I had one bite."

"Then I didn't eat the whole thing."

"I'm not sharing with you anymore." Joe resumed walking.

"Don't be a baby."

"Don't be a pig."

Tina shoved him. It felt so natural to be with Joe. She felt completely comfortable with him. All the stress in her hectic life melted away. The beach crowd was a mix of new arrivals and morning sunbathers leaving in the afternoon. It was the most crowded time of day when they reached the boardwalk.

"Hey, T, " Joe grabbed her arm. He lifted her baseball cap. "Welcome to Venice." Joe kissed her, not too hard. Her hands went behind his neck and pulled him in." Tina put her forehead on Joe's shoulder. "Thank you for waiting for me."

"Let's go, south. I won't narrate. Just use all your senses and take it in. I apologize in advance that not all smells will be welcome. Any place you want to stop in, just say so. There's a lot to see."

They walked no more than four boardwalk booths south when Tina saw a beach shop. She had to get her flip-flops, which led to a new bathing suit. Tina chatted with three people in the store.

On the next corner, she saw a T-shirt shop and had to get a souvenir from LA. Joe watched her price check and examine a dozen shirts then whipped through racks of shirts before going with a Mexican mosaic Venice shirt.

Moving south again, through a crowd, Joe noticed how many people gawked at Tina's long purple hair falling from under her cap. The men were checking out her ass as well. Tina pointed to a store, "Let's get some fudge."

Eating fudge with bottled water a half block south Tina stopped in front of a Mexican ceramics merchant. "Oh My God, I love this stuff. Mexican art is beautiful. I love the colors. They really pop." Tina ducked into the store and picked up a painted ceramic skull.

"It's both tacky and cool." she smiled with the skull next to her face. She browsed for a few minutes, fondling merchandise, and price-checking, then purchased a colorful ceramic bowl for Joe's kitchen.

Standing on the boardwalk, Tina holding three bags, Joe shook his head. "Look at you. You're such a fucking tourist. Now you have to carry all that stuff. We could have bought any of those items on the way back, or tomorrow. Stop shopping and get walking."

"Where's that famous pizza place?"

"We already passed it. We'll catch it on the way back."

"Can you at least carry the bowl? I bought it for you."

"I have not yet officially accepted that gift. So you have to carry it."

"You're serious, aren't you."

"Let me show you a booth up here. Tourists love it."

Joe led Tina one block to an artisan of leather and cloth bags, purses, handbags, beach bags, leather belts, metal jewelry, buckles, and hardware used in the making of the bags. Tina dove in headfirst like a bee to honey.

"Oh my God, I see three I want and I've only been here thirty seconds. There's another one. Make that four."

She picked up several bags and clutches. Joe selected a large square bottom, cloth beach bag; with an art deco palm tree in sunset theme. He placed it on the counter while Tina foraged through items.

"You can come back tomorrow." Joe reminded her. "Pick one, and let's go."

"Yessir," Tina furrowed her brow. Then she picked out a small purse, cloth, and leather, rustic.

Outside the shop, Joe opened his beach bag, "You're a tourist, but I'll teach you the ways of the beach." He took Tina's flip-flops, bathing suit, purse, bowl, and T-shirt and put them into his large bag. "Always have a beach bag with you."

Tina smiled and walked away leaving Joe holding the bag. She finally stopped shopping and relaxed. Tina's purple hair under a baseball cap was one of Joe's favorite casual T looks. She was always dressed for business, so her dress-down look was hot for him. They walked speechlessly, Tina's head looking left and right, dodging pedestrians and occasional skateboarders. When they came upon buskers and other street performers at Venice Boulevard, Tina turned to Joe with a look of awe.

"This is so cool. It's wonderfully colorful here. It's not gray old New York." They stepped to the side of the boardwalk and watched people go by, Angelenos of all ages, races, styles, and LA vibes. After a minute of just observing the scene, Joe took Tina's hand.

"These are my people, T. I love this town."

"I can see it. I can feel it. I'm so relaxed right now, but my senses are full. And I got one of those bad smells back there." She pointed backward with her thumb.

"Sewage." Joe shrugged, "a big plumbing bill for someone."

Follow me. Joe led T away from the boardwalk toward the beach, north from where they came, under the palm trees to where the skaters congregated. He stopped short of entering their world. Tina stood with him watching teens and pre-teens taking turns doing tricks, using the curbs and benches. Someone brought a small ramp.

"This is the heart of Venice culture right here. These are the skater punks, kids doing what the fuck they want to do, skating, and blasting punk rock. I love these kids."

"I know," Tina smiled. "I read about it in Rolling Stone. She's got a City of Angels T-shirt on," Tina pointed to an older girl.

"That's Cheri. I gave her that shirt."

"She's staring at us."

Joe waved at Cheri. She waved back then pushed off skating their way. Cheri did her thing, gliding gracefully with her outstretched arms, flying toward Joe with her electric smile. Tina watched her as closely as Joe.

"Hey, Joe," Cheri smiled. "What's going on?

Tina watched Cheri as she circled behind them in her scant bikini top and short shorts, back around, stopping two feet from Joe.

"Who's this?" she side-nodded at Tina.

Joe looked at T. Her level of annoyance was clear. "Cheri, this is Tina. Tina... Cheri."

Cheri didn't acknowledge T, she stared at her, then turned to Joe. "Is she your girlfriend or something?"

Joe laughed at her rudeness, "Or something."

She turned to Tina. "Where are you from?"

"New York," Tina said.

Cheri smiled, "Okay then, not a problem." She pushed off and skated away, "See ya, Joe. Bye, Tina."

Tina watched Cheri's wiggling ass glide away and looked up at Joe. "What the fuck was that about?"

"That's my friend Cheri."

"Jesus Christ, Joe, she's what, eighteen?"

"She's twenty and I didn't fuck her. She's a kid from my neighborhood. C'mon T."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"What was that no problem comment?"

"I have no idea."

"Are you sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Did you see her, T? Do you think if I fucked her I'd forget about it?"

"Do you want to fuck her?"

"I've known her since she was thirteen, T. She's a kid."

Walking back towards the boardwalk Joe told Tina about Cheri

"When she was like fifteen I was watching the kids skate. Cheri was good, but the boys tried to freeze her and her girlfriends out. I saw her take some shit and just hang in there deflecting the abuse. One day I walked up to her and said, 'Hey Cheri, you're gonna have to punch one of these boys in the face. Pick the one who annoys you the most. You might get punched yourself, just hit back. No matter how it ends you will be respected for standing up for yourself."

"You told her to punch a kid? That's not good advice for a teen."

"Yes. I did, and Cheri said, 'So you want me to punch Justin Fortado in the face?'

"Is he Italian?"

"Yes."

"Definitely punch him."

Tina shoved Joe. "You didn't say that."

"I did."

"I'm Italian."

"I know."

Their path curved back to the boardwalk ending where Tina wanted to go.

"Big Daddy's Pizza!" She said excitedly. "This place is famous. I saw this on a TV show."

"Yes, this is where the tourists get mediocre pizza,"

"I'm getting a slice." Tina moved toward the line.

"T, we're having Italian tonight."

Tina stopped. "You're right. I need to save room for dessert. I'm fasting until dinner"

"That will speed up our walk home."

"Good idea," Tina walked faster, passing people, getting ahead of Joe. He turned inland up an alley and away from the boardwalk, using a back lot, he hastily made his way to the next cross street. He came out just as Tina realized she had lost him. She was looking back, walking back, calling his name. Joe watched her from thirty yards as she spun, her eyes searching for him. He walked up, using passersby as a screen, and crept up behind her.

He sang in baritone. "You're lost, little girl."

"Oh fuck," Tina was startled, turning quickly

"Don't run away from Daddy." Joe took T by the hand. "You'll get lost, little girl."

"How did you get up here?"

"This is my turf. I know the shortcuts."