After The Fire

Chapter 3

It's 5 a.m. I'm restless and ready to get on the road. It will do me some good. I packed up my clothes and not much else. I'm heading out to LA and that's gonna be about a 15 hour drive. The sun isn't even out yet as I toss my oversized duffel bag into the cab of my truck.
The road becomes more and more empty the further I drive away from town. The sun is rising over the red rocks and ridges of Colorado. This barren and beautiful place is also known as the lonely road. How poignant. I drive through Utah and the scenery is much the same until the surroundings flatten as I approach Nevada. Linda and I had talked about taking a trip to Vegas a few times. Honestly, it's not really my scene, but maybe I would have played a couple rounds of black jack. I'll never know now. Whatever appeal there was is long gone. The air is thickening with a haze as I approach Los Angeles. Doesn't make much difference as I look down and notice I've smoked my last cigarette.

I pull into a motel for the night. I'm supposed to meet up with a land lord tomorrow and check in with the precinct where I've been transferred. I grab my bag and denim jacket. I grab my gun case and zip it into my bag. I lock up my truck and head into the office to check in. It's about eight o'clock and I'm starving. I head back out and pull up to a hamburger stand down the street. As I wait in line, I'm propositioned by a hooker.
"Hey baby, you're a sexy tall drink of water. You lookin' for a date?", the woman says with a smile on her over painted face.
I'm off duty, so I can't arrest her. I just tell her, "No thanks."
"You like boys or somethin' ?", she asks pouting.
"No, I'm a cop and I'm pretty sure the ride ain't free.", I reply.
She backs away with her hands up and walks away.

I'm back in my motel room and I kick of my boots and my jeans. I get comfortable in my white t shirt and boxers. I eat and watch the evening news before I turn out the lights.

I'm given the keys to my new apartment. The place is furnished with the bare minimum. A table with two chairs, a sofa, and a queen size bed. I'll rarely be home, so it'll do for now. I also checked in with the new precinct and filled out all the necessary paperwork and went through a brief orientation. I was going to be starting in a few days.

I retuned to my first story apartment. Thank God for that. As I was about to unlock my door, a voice says, "Hey, you new?"
The voice came from a very pretty girl with a smile that could illuminate a cave. She was wearing a fitted black t shirt and cut off shorts. Her body resembled the shape of a coke bottle. Although she was beautiful with her mass of dark curls atop her head, beautiful brown eyes, and full lips, the most disarming thing about her was her smile. She was so bubbly and it was like a siren's call.
"Uh, yeah. I'm Flip", I answer with a small smile, if you could even call it that. I started to open my door.
She asked, "Flip like flip a pancake or back flip?"
I look over at her and my smile widens at her childlike musings that are kind of refreshing.
"Yeah, Flip like backflip. My name is actually Phillip, Phillip Zimmerman. Nice to meet you...?", I ask pausing as I hold out my hand realizing I haven't got her name yet. She let's go of the garbage bag she's holding and extends her hand.
She answers, "Oh, where are my manners?", she rhetorically asks giggling. "I'm Diane, Diane Ronquillo. Nice to meet you too Flip. I better get this to the dumpster. See you 'round."
She starts to practically drag the trash bag behind her. I remember my manners and I catch up to her.
"Oh, hey! Let me take this for you. I got it.", I say as I take the bag from her delicate little hands. Her fingers are so dainty beneath my paws.
"Thanks Flip! That's so sweet of you", she says blushing slightly and looking away a little. There's this adorable curl that falls across her forehead as she turns to go to her door. I'm halfway down the walk when she calls out,"Hey Flip! I like your red shirt, but you have to be careful with your colors around here. This neighborhood doesn't wear red. You could get shot for that. Be careful."
I raise my eyebrow at her because what she has said just makes no sense. She smiles and goes inside her apartment. I throw the bag over my shoulder and carry it around the back of the complex to the dumpster. After I throw the bag away, I turn to see three Mexican guys staring at me. They've all got khaki pants on, white tanks, and plaid shirt over. They've all got blue bandannas hanging out of their pockets. One guy has one tied around his head.
The bald short one says, "What up ese? You bangin' blood?"
I answer honestly, "Hey fellas. Uh, I don't know what that means. I'm new in town. Just moved in."
"Orale homes, you better not wear that shit around here. We give you a pass now because you're new. I see you reppin' blood again, you're done homes", the guy with the shades says next as he pats his gun in his waist band.
I start to go back to my apartment and they step in my way. I don't dare tell them I'm a police officer. I know this is some gang shit already. I go to move again and they match me.
I back up and remove my red buffalo check shirt and ball it up in my fist. I'm in just my white t shirt and jeans.
"Ok? Can I go now fellas? My name is Flip. Nice to meet you", I say lying through my teeth. I'm in survival mode because I see these thugs are packing and so am I under my t shirt, but there are three of them and I'm off duty.
"Yeah sure homes. Go ahead. Be careful out here ese . There's some crazy mother fuckers out here."
They're all laughing as I walk back into my apartment. This is going to be an interesting change of pace.

Two days later
I don't have groceries. I need to at least pick up some basic things. I noticed it always smells amazing when I walk outside around dinner time. The aroma gets stronger when I near Diane's apartment. She must be a good cook. I made sure to where my blue plaid shirt when I headed out to the market tonight. Didn't need the welcoming committee to bust a cap in my ass.
I'm going aisle to aisle rounding up basic things like cereal, milk, and bread. Los Angeles is more expensive than Colorado Springs. I can't afford take out every night. I'm in the freezer section and I grab a few Swanson TV dinners. I hear a clicking sound behind me. I turn and see Diane.
She says, "That stuff will kill you Flip. You need to take care of yourself, so you can get through your day at... I'm sorry, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a cop", I answer her. "What do you recommend for a guy that works long hours and has not much time to cook and doesn't really care to?"
"Um, a wife?", she says laughing and smiling that bright and lovely smile. "Seriously though, I could teach you to cook some simple things. Only takes like 15-20 minutes."
"That'd be great. You always seem to have something really good cooking at your place. The smells are amazing. Um, my apartment is kind of shit at the moment. It's kind of embarrassing how empty it is.", I say looking at the floor.
"I can teach you at my apartment and simultaneously cook for you for awhile. You know, just until you get the hang of it", she offers.
"Thanks. That's so generous of you.", I say and honestly I don't care if I learn anything. I just want to be around this girl. She makes me feel a little like my old self.
"Well first of all, you need to buy a few more essentials. I can help you with that", she says smiling and tilts her head in a motion to follow her.
We start perusing the aisles together and she starts tossing things into my basket. I'm not even paying attention to the items. I want to know more about her.
"So, what do you do for a living... if you don't mind my asking", I ask and it's always a little embarrassing asking a woman what she does for a living. She's a princess and if it were up to me, she'd never work. Wait, what? Get it together Flip. It's too soon.
"I'm a student. I'm in culinary school to become a chef. I have two jobs to get me through school. I assist the cook in a Mexican restaurant and I have another job I do on the weekends", she kind of trails  off on the last part.
"What's that? The other job you do?", I ask as she grabs a box of cookies and tosses them into her own cart.
Diane says turned away from me under her breath, "I strip."
"Oh. Has that been lucrative enough for school?", I ask trying to be sensitive because I can tell she's embarrassed and not proud of it.
"It pays the bills. I'm doing ok. I don't have much more schooling to get through. Once I finish school, I'm gonna quit working at the club", she says with a shrug.
"Well I admire that you're working so hard on your own to get what you want. You don't have help from your parents?", I ask wanting to know more about her without trying to pry too much. I'm a detective. It's my job to ask questions. Now it's habit.
"I come from a working class family. My dad works in a factory and my mom is a waitress in a diner. I have four younger siblings. I knew I wanted a life and career where I could be artistic and practical. Cooking has always been a passion of mine. I couldn't put the burden on my parents to support my schooling. They helped pay for applications and some of my supplies, but that's where it stops. My parents would die if they knew I strip on the weekends", she explains and ends with a shudder.
She reaches up and grabs some spices from the shelf and tosses them into my basket and says, "Salt, pepper, season salt, and garlic powder are going to be essential for seasoning any meat you cook."
I take it that she wants to leave the conversation about struggle and focus on her passion, food. I can't believe this smiley and bubbly good girl has to resort to taking off her clothes in order to take care of herself. I want to help her. She's already helping me.

We get to check out and I've got a decent cart filled up. I definitely wouldn't have thought about a lot of this stuff. She's ahead of me checking out and I can't stop looking at her. I feel something stirring up inside me. It's a flicker of a flame. It's low and smoldering deep down. What is this girl doing to me?
I think she's going to go ahead to her car, but she waits for me with her cart. We walk out into the parking lot.
"You didn't have to wait for me. You could have gone ahead to your car", I say looking over at her with a small smile.
"It's a rough neighborhood. It's not everyday I have a big strong police officer man walk me to my car", she says giving me a shy smile as she giggles slightly.
I feel so stupid. Is she flirting with me? I can't gauge these things anymore.
"Ah", is all I can answer as I help her load her groceries into her car.
Once she settles into the front seat of her car, I say to her with her window rolled down as my hand is resting on the door, "Thanks for all your help tonight Diane. This was fun."
She says to me, "Wait until we get cookin'. See you at home dear", she says with a wink, smile, and that angelic giggle as she starts her car and backs out of the parking space. I walk over to my truck, load it up, and head home.
Wait until we get cookin' indeed.