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“Running off into the unknown can sure clear your head. It sounds like pretty good advice.”
“Thank you.”
I smoke the cigarette as a highway-patrol car slows down and gives us the once-over. Sally throws the driver a tiny backhanded wave. The patrol cop’s eyes go blank. He turns his attention back to the road and drives on.
“Any thoughts on my problem?” I ask.
“Yes. What you want isn’t all that hard to do, but it isn’t easy if you get my meaning. What you need is a Black Dahlia.”
“And that means what?”
“You’re going to have to die. And not a going-gentle-into-that-good-night death. It’s going to be messy.”
Story of my life.
“I was hoping for something a little more in the hocus-pocus area. Getting Downtown dead and being stuck there kind of defeats the purpose of my coming to you.”
She flicks the Lucky butt out onto the road. It flies in a perfect arc like a falling star. Marking her territory so more cops won’t bother us.
“Silly boy. I said you had to die. I didn’t say you’d be dead. Dying is just the offering you make to gain passage. Once you’re on the other side, the debt is paid and you’ll be you again.”
“How violent are we talking about? I mean is the word ‘entrails’ involved?”
“Your death doesn’t have to be quite as baroque as poor Elizabeth Short’s Black Dahlia. A car accident should do it. At a .do it. crossroads, of course.”
“Is there anything I need to do?”
“You’ll need to carry an item worn by or touched by someone who suffered a violent death. Anything will do. A photo. A class ring. If the friend you want to find died violently, that’s perfect. Get something of hers. Keep it close so it’s touching your skin as you pass through. Love and death. There’s no more powerful combination.”
That’s good news, but which of Alice’s things should I bring with me? Maybe something she’d miss. Or is it too mean to remind her of her life here? On the other hand, it feels a little lame to bring the TV remote or her toothbrush.
“How do I find the right crossroads?”
“Elizabeth Short was murdered near Leimert Park. There was a nice crossroads there, but it’s all suburbs now. Why don’t you try the I-10 underpass at Crenshaw? That’s a decent little crossroads. All you need to do is hit the accelerator and run the car into one of the concrete freeway supports. I’ll be close by to give you a little push to the other side.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
She nods and strolls to her car. I follow her over. She digs through the bag of snacks and comes up with a packet of jelly beans. She rips it open, offers me one, and when I shake my head, she spears one with a fingernail, takes it off with her teeth, and chews. She reaches into the packet, pushing the jelly beans around, looking for a specific one.
She says, “I’m only doing this because while you might be crazy, you’re not stupid. You don’t think you’re Orpheus and can bring your friend back to the world of the living. That means you’re willing to die and cross over to the worst place in Creation for someone you love but can never truly have. That’s the kind of thing that can give even an old thing like me goose bumps.”
“To tell you the truth, I’d rather be back running Max Overdrive.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’re like me. One of the night people. I’m the road. I give life and I take it. People like us don’t get to close our eyes to the world and live cozy mortal lives.”
Two men’s faces slide into my memory. My real father, Kinski, a has-been archangel, and the father who raised me. One of the faces fades away. It’s the other, not-quite-human one that stays.
“You make it sound so doomed and romantic. We should all be drinking absinthe as we die of consumption.”
She shrugs her pretty shoulders.
“It’s what you allow it to be. You can find beauty and joy in the dark places just as easily as civilians find comfortikefind co in the glow of their TVs. But you have to allow yourself to do it. Otherwise . . .”
“Otherwise what?”
“Otherwise, ten years from now, you’ll be stopping me and asking a foolish question and I’ll end up sending you to a gas station to buy a map.”
“Ow. When you put it that way, Hell sounds just about right.”
