The Lonely Hearts Bar. Конни Гранма

about his lawyer?»

      «We got lucky: we found a lawyer who’d never had a case like that before. He was fresh out of law school and offered to do the job on the cheap. Back then we had absolutely nothing. His foster parents at first refused to pay, but Marilyn – the foster mother – gave a little bit of money. I chipped in everything I’d earned up until then. Basically, everything worked out in the end: David was found innocent and let go. But that depression he fell into at the time still hasn’t left him. When I couldn’t get him out of jail, he finally cracked. I mean, I did get him out of jail, but only two years later. That jail was horrible. The shit that happened to him there… You think he was always like that? That he was one more difficult teenager? Nope. I remember him. And then the turning point after jail. I was already sure that one day I’d open the door and see a body hanging from a noose. His first overdose and, of course, the first drugs… serious drugs. Things got out of hand. I even said goodbye to him, subconsciously. Literally everything around us was rotten. Then he was able to get a job at a club. Well, part of me was happy for him, that he was doing some kind of work. But then he was fired. I found him half-alive by a dumpster a little ways from the place.»

      «God…» I whispered, listening to Lee attentively.

      «Yeah, it wasn’t easy. I’m surprised by his behavior now: he’s practically a normal person. Well, an explosive normal person.»

      He reached for the pancakes and the maple syrup.

      «Long story short, after that we found somewhere to live. It was yet another homeless shelter, where David had a nervous breakdown and ended up in a mental hospital, where he stayed for a month. Meanwhile, I went around looking for a new place to live and a job for us. I worked in diners, washed dishes and cars, sold pot – gonna burn in hell for that,» Lee thought about it for a moment and then went on, «David came to Los Angeles too. We had a fight, then he told me he’d had enough and left. When a week went by and I realized that he wasn’t coming back, that’s when I freaked: I thought something had happened to him. He’d usually turn up by the end of the week. But this time he was gone for more than half a year. I’d already completely lost hope. Thought I’d end up seeing him again only to identify him. To be honest, because of his personality, I was sure that he’d been shot or beaten up in some back alley. While I was looking for him, I lost my perfectly normal studio apartment and my job. It turned out that that idiot was staying in a bar in some desert this side of the border, where he met you.»

      «That’s right.»

      «He talked about you a lot.»

      I merely smiled at my own memories of my first meeting with David.

      After breakfast, Lee asked me to give him a lift to North Highland Avenue.

      «Thanks, Connie. Was great hanging out. See you around!»

      «Bye!»

      The radio. I never listened to it before, only when I was in taxis. One time I got into a taxi driven by an African American guy who turned Mozart’s «Eine Kleine Nachtmusik» on full blast. That was a memorable trip! His hands seemed to make sweeping gestures all by themselves, as if directing an invisible orchestra. I remember I was on my way to my first job interview. That was a good day.

      And again the radio. And I’ve hit a dead end. Where did I go wrong? All day I drove around the Los Angeles, just cruising around the city. In the late afternoon, I decided to sit in Starbucks and read a newspaper. I resolved that from that day on I’d make a habit of doing that. In that very Starbucks on Robertson boulevard. Or was it Beverly Boulevard? Well, anyway, in precisely that Starbucks, in that location, at that time, once a week or two.

      In the evening, perusing a lot of job vacancies hopefully, I realized that my knowledge that the past, the present and the future exist simultaneously don’t change anything. I still remember the past, think about the future and forget about the present. I’m a philosophical void. Just a typical, boring human with roots in the Renaissance, that is, in profound disappointment. We can speculate about life endlessly, yet end up never having lived… Days, weeks go by… And we’re all racing towards the future, which ends at the gates of kingdom come. But before going in, Heaven’s Director sets up a film viewing, and the screenplay’s your life. The screen sparks and sputters to life. And that’s when the viewing of a great human tragedy begins.

      «Forgive me, God,» I whispered, turning over memories in my head.

      My phone buzzed.

      «What are you up to?» David’s voice in my ear.

      «I’m sitting in Starbucks.»

      «Whereabouts?»

      I looked out the window again to make sure I got the street name right:

      «Looks like the intersection of North Highland Avenue and Beverly Boulevard.»

      «What do you say about walking down Santa Monica beach?»

      «I’d love to!»

      «It’s a twenty-minute drive. Go down Robertson Boulevard.»

      «Ok. If I get lost I’ll call you.»

      I stuck to Dave’s route but nonetheless relied on my close friend, the GPS. It took more than twenty minutes to get there. It was already getting dark. But everything around was gorgeous.

      My destination was finally coming into view. I parked the car and went looking for David. He was sitting in the sand and smoking up a storm.

      «Hi.» I sat down next to him and slid the hood off his head.

      Dave looked at me and smiled contentedly.

      «What?» I felt strangely embarrassed.

      «Nice being here, with you.»

      I sighed deeply and just gave a slight nod in response.

      «What were you doing today?»

      «I was in Starbucks. Well, actually I drove around the city all day, then I swung by Starbucks. Grabbed a newspaper, and decided to have a look at the job vacancies.»

      «Find anything?»

      «A lot of openings in public catering, oh and they’re also looking for specialists in air conditioner maintenance. Plus an architect’s assistant and an accountant. Baby sitters, elderly care providers,» I took a pensive breath, «maybe I’ll go for the second one.»

      «Air conditioners?»

      «Uh-huh.»

      We both laughed, and Dave took out another cigarette.

      «Why do you smoke?»

      «Well, people smoke for a lot of reasons.»

      «What are yours?»

      «I don’t know how to deal with stress, and also I’m always worried about something.»

      «So this is your way of relaxing?»

      «Well, it’s one of the best on my ‘how-to-destress-in-a-minute-or-less list.»

      I glanced at the cigarette between his lips. David took a pull, held it to the side, and gray smoke billowed theatrically in all directions.

      «You never smoke before?»

      «No.»

      «Didn’t even try?»

      «No.» I smiled.

      «No way! Are you serious? Not even in the bathroom during break?»

      «No.»

      «And you never wanted to?»

      «No!» I said again, resolutely.

      «What planet are you from, anyway?» he exclaimed.

      «No clue. Haven’t landed yet.»

      «You always in flight mode?»

      «Something like that.»

      «Well, I can’t seem to get off the ground. Too firmly rooted. But I ended up with the brains of a space cadet and a dreamer. That’s probably why everything’s so shit all the time.»

      «I