THIRTY-FIVE

My favorite burger place was way the hell out at a far end of Industrial Drive. I’d been there a lot, and taken many friends and girls there, but this was the first time I ever drove up in a limo with a Hollywood and Vegas legend.

The place was a little clapboard shack – the Burger Shack – that looked like it would blow away in a stiff wind. Getting out of the limo, though, the smell of meat and onions made my mouth water.

‘Man, that smells good,’ Jerry said.

There were picnic tables set up outside, and one was open. There was a line at the window, so I suggested Dean and Mack grab the table, and Jerry and I would grab the food. I also thought that Dean Martin standing in the line might attract attention. Maybe sitting at the table he’d be able to keep a low profile.

Jerry and I got on the back of the line. Our plan was to carry as many burgers and fries back to the table as we could.

When we got to the window and Jerry saw that they also had hot dogs he got himself two burgers and two hot dogs. And an order of fries. I got one burger and an order of fries for each of the rest of us, and piled some condiments on the tray. We managed to carry it all back to the table, and then Jerry went back for four beers.

‘Thanks, pally,’ Dean said, accepting a beer from Jerry.

Mack nodded as he took his, his mouth already full of fries.

We dressed our burgers and bit into them. They were so juicy that grease rolled down our hands.

‘Wow,’ Jerry said, ‘this is a good burger.’

‘I’ll say,’ Mack agreed.

‘So tell me, Eddie,’ Dino said. ‘What was goin’ on in the bar?’

‘That guy is related to the dead man who was gonna sell Bing the horse,’ I said. ‘And there’s a sister. She’s taken over the sale, but this brother doesn’t want it to go through.’

‘Why was he gonna take it out on you?’ Dean asked. ‘And why’d he bring help?’

I told him what had happened out at the ranch.

‘Well,’ Dean said, ‘they’re lucky they backed off. The four of us would’ve cleaned the place up with ’em.’

‘You got that right,’ Mack said around a mouthful of burger.

While we were talking, Jerry finished both hotdogs and one of his burgers.

‘How were the hot dogs?’ Mack asked.

‘OK, but not as good as Nathan’s in Brooklyn.’

‘You know, I spent a lotta time in Chicago,’ Mack said, ‘and those Chicago hot dogs are pretty good. I can’t see how them skinny Nathan’s dogs can be better.’

‘Are you crazy?’ Jerry asked. ‘There ain’t nothin’ better than a Nathan’s hot dog. Hell, even those dogs at Nedicks in the city are better than Chicago. I mean, you gotta put all that extra stuff on them to make them taste better, right?’

‘All that stuff joins with the hot dog,’ Mack explained, ‘which is nice and plump.’

Jerry and Mack went off then, each extolling the virtues of Chicago and Brooklyn hot dogs. I thought I should probably stop them before they moved on to a pizza argument.

‘When does Frank get to town?’ I asked.

Both Jerry and Mack stopped and looked at me.

‘Tomorrow,’ Dean said.

‘And that’s Frankie’s last night at the Flamingo?’

‘Yep.’

I counted in my head.

‘That makes five nights. The Flamingo booked a new singer for five nights?’

Dean stared at me.

‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘That was silly.’ A new singer named Sinatra, I told myself.

‘Hey,’ Dean said, ‘I’m gonna go and get a burger for the driver. I forgot all about him.’

‘I’ll get it, boss,’ Mack said. ‘Somebody might spot you in line and cause a fuss.’

As Mack walked towards the shack, Dean called out, ‘Bring him a beer, too.’

After we all finished our burgers – including the driver – we piled into the limo and headed back to the Sands. The inside of the car smelled like meat and onions. Not so bad. Jerry and Mack continued their hot dog debate, and then did move on to pizza.