Open Doors

The 720 bus left from E 7th Street. Google had said it’d take twenty minutes to get to Wilshire/Vermont station. I could take the Metro straight to Hollywood from there. The total journey should be just under an hour. That meant I’d arrive in Tinseltown at around six. I’d head straight for the hotel because it was four stars and would have helpful, not scary, people at the front desk who’d tell me what to do.

The bus stop was a flagpole sticking out of the sidewalk. But instead of a flag, it held a modest metal rectangle with the letter M in a circle, the word ‘Metro’ and three bus numbers, one of which was mine.

I leant against the fence of a smart, but shady, building. The Princess waited at my feet. I had no idea what time the bus might come and there was nobody to ask. Even if there’d been other people waiting, I don’t think I’d have had the confidence to speak to them without Jennifer. Like, have you ever met a friendly stranger?

Further worries: was the mugger in the suit nearby? Would he try again if he saw me? Maybe there were other muggers?

I didn’t think I looked like someone with money or expensive stuff. My hair was thick with days of unwashing. And I think the stained coat/sweatshirt combo, made me look … well … not exactly rolling in cash.

She wouldn’t be far now. If I jogged, I could still catch her. I’d done a lot of jogging recently. Like someone’s dad after his phone had shown his chins through the front-facing camera.

Would Jennifer smile if I tapped her on the shoulder?

‘Hollywood can wait,’ I’d say, full Cheddar. ‘I want to meet your dad. It’s not over until then. We’re a team, goddamnit.’

And I was struck by that weird thought again: maybe there was more to life than getting excited about being an extra in an unnamed superhero film? It might have been filmed already anyway. Imagine how disappointed I’d feel if I left Jennifer for the film, then got there and found I’d missed it all? I could always tell Dad that they cut my scene from the final edit. I didn’t have to confess.

Now, if I knew for sure it was Spider-Man, that’d be a different story. But they’d have said if it were a marquee hero. The whole secrecy thing was to disguise the disappointment.

Doctor Bong.

An orange bus rolled up. The automatic doors hissed open. The driver turned to me. I could see myself reflected in her sunglasses. My head shook, I mouthed ‘sorry’, and both of these things took me by surprise because I really hadn’t decided anything yet.

A passenger shouted something as the bus drove away. I saw his lips moving but couldn’t hear the words. He didn’t look happy.

But I didn’t care.

Instead I ran, the Princess bouncing behind me over pavement cracks. I was a missile, launched at Jennifer. When I struck her, there wouldn’t be death and destruction. There’d be hugs and smiles. Or a raised eyebrow and some sass.

Somerset had never felt so distant.

Foot after foot and it was another one of those roads that went on forever or, at least, to the cloudless sky. Every so often there were trees probably planted to create a sense of prettiness absent from the whitewashed walls. There were also huge piles of trash, like the rubbish truck had given up this route but residents continued to pile up black bags in the hope that if only they believed someday their refuse services would return, they would.

In short, it wasn’t a road to fill you with hope. But I’d made my decision and I kept at it. My forehead was moist with breaking sweat and my insides hurt, especially where the failed mugger had pricked me, but it didn’t matter.

Because! There! Boom!

Jennifer was leaning against a telegraph pole outside a brick building, painted yellow, that advertised VINTAGE AND DESIGNER FURNISHINGS. She had her back to me.

I didn’t stretch out a hand to touch her shoulder. I thought that might be creepy. Instead I cleared my throat.

‘Yo,’ I said.

But the word came out exactly when this huge truck passed and it was lost to the rush of the diesel engine.

So I said it again. And this time she turned.

‘Finally,’ she said. ‘What took you so long? You look like a puppy.’ She held an ice cream. The corners of her mouth were stained white. ‘I mean, it’s good to see you. And … I like puppies, so …’

I spoke quickly, panting. ‘I was thinking we could see your dad together, although I wouldn’t have to actually go into the … place. And then Hollywood afterwards because it’s probably on the way and I could even get a taxi maybe because you gave me all that money and …’

For a second her chill-whatever-chill mask slipped.

‘Thanks for coming back,’ she said, beaming, because, you know what, she couldn’t help herself. ‘I mean, I would have done the same. We’re Mario and Luigi. To be honest, I can’t believe you left me first time round. Ice-cold.’

‘I wanted to stay. You told me to go. It was an order. You ordered me.’

‘Why would I ever do that?’ she said. ‘You’re my sidekick, bro.’

We walked together again, our shoulders pretty much touching. And I wanted to say that we were more like Mario and the Princess but sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut.