(8) What Next?
Fresh from shower and shave, coffee and croissant, Andrew drove west. Not so much following any insight, psychic or otherwise, as responding to promptings from god knows where, promptings of the what next? variety. Not exactly inner directed, was it, but at least he was doing something, even if it amounted to not much more than nosing about Burlingame, trying to pick up a scent. Wasn’t that what all the dilapidated detectives of fiction and film did? Sniffing the wind for clues? It sounded good, in a needle-in-a-haystack kind of way.
He parked and began, despite the morning’s chill, to stroll. Inappropriately, he remembered an earlier notion to buy a shovel and hoe somewhere. Okay, later. Seeing a charming hole-in-the-wall caffeine dispensary, he couldn’t resist checking it out. He emerged a few moments later with a small latte and almost immediately, bumped into two scruffy young men, huddled together under hoods, smoking. It was his fault and he apologised. They looked at him, perhaps stunned at his politeness, or perhaps so stoned words escaped them. The giggles he next expected did not materialise, so perhaps not. He said he was looking for a kid named Bo.
Drives a rusty blue civic?
Well yeah, Andrew thought, he did.
Yeah you ain’t the only one.
Popular is he?
Usta come around here dealin‘.
Good stuff?
So-so. You a cop?
Andrew smiled and assured them. No way.
So why do you wanna know?
His girlfriend’s really worried.
And you’re like her dad?
Not exactly.
Her pimp?
No sir.
You talk funny.
Two girls appeared out of nowhere and the boys immediately went off with them. No goodbye, no see ya, no fuck off. He continued on his pathless path, and wondered, somewhat haphazardly, if he’d find any truth on it. He chuckled and took another sip of his latte. The glass doors of a mall appeared and he slipped in. A few mid-morning shoppers strolled and stared. He gazed at some window displays himself. He realised nothing was in his price range; it was all too low. He was a toff now and only bought toff things. Just to skip that light fandango he went into a dollar store and bought a Mars bar. And then, plopped on a bench, ate it in manner that made him think of the phrase conspicuous consumption. Damn that was good. He sucked a bit of warm chocolate off his index finger. Vee would have disapproved, not to mention his mother.
More strolling and window shopping seem required. Approaching the doors to the street he noticed a group around a bench. No, it was more of a huddle. As he passed a voice said Hey we got something for you. He turned to look. One of the girls from before looked at him. He looked back, waiting. She held out a small something. It was a phone. It’s his, she said, dropped it when they pushed him in that car. Andrew held out his hand, accepted the offer, and asked, what car?
