“Is
it really so hard just to do the dishes?” Amanda posits with heavy
annoyance in her voice.
“I don't need to. I have other stuff I need to
do. Have Kaylee do it or something.” Kyle flippantly responds,
uninterested in taking a turn washing the dirty dishes of the seven
people, most of whom are temporary guests, including Kyle.
“You
are going to get your ass off that couch and you are going to wash
those goddamn dishes because you have not helped yet, and everybody
else has” Amanda clearly not in the mood for anyone obstinate. Kyle
finally gets up, and Will thinks he hears him mutter something under
his breath, though it was very unintelligible. Shoes, Will notices,
he is still wearing his shoes. The whole gang of the six of them had
been in the apartment for hours. In fact, Will doesn't think Kyle has
been outside at all today. Will muses that there must be something
wrong with Kyle if he never takes his shoes off. For heaven’s sake,
it's summer in southern California. How could you have your shoes on
all of the time? And certainly his shoes didn't help his appearance
either. Those grimy Chuck Taylor's didn't make him look good. They're
not even the worn out, slightly dirty Chuck's, which would look
great. Giving him an air of a person who has done things or perhaps
adventured, but instead just makes him look like he exclusively lives
just to get wasted and go to raves. Getting his shoes grimy in the
filth that covers sketchy bars and impromptu rave sites. Which
happens to be what he does. Will wonders if he might even have slept
in them. His grimy hair also matches his grimy shoes. Even though he
washes his hair, it always looks dirty. Will, Amanda, and Rachael
knew he washed his hair because it eventually clogged the bathtub and
the sink. Fucking Kyle.
“Come
on, man, we all got to do our part to keep the apartment clean.
Everybody has to do something. Half this apartment is my sister's.
She has work to do. And she has a right to relax in her own home.”
implored Will.
This
was originally Rachael's apartment, but her brother and his wife,
Will and Amanda respectively, just made the Great Trek West, leaving
the past behind and racing the sun for new adventures, and moved into
Rachael's apartment as her previous roommate left. Just two weeks
earlier was Rachael and her roommate's graduation from CalArts. The
apartment housed eight people, yet they all got along perfectly,
slept, ate, and bathed all without any conflict, for about a week.
Two weeks later proves to be just the opposite.
Rachael
didn't mind letting Will and Amanda's friends stay. They had vouched
for two of them, J and Magnolia, and the other two they were unsure
of. Eventually she did mind, but at the point of overstaying their
welcome. It had begun well enough.
Will
and Amanda drove West with their Prius packed to the brim. They
arrived on a Friday, a beautiful day, about 80 degrees and sunny as
always. It was exactly everything they hoped for. Newhall, CA,
located just North of LA, is a surprisingly quiet place. The city
happens to have an art school (which by its nature is quite liberal),
and the neighborhoods happen to be conservative. There are two bars
in the city. One bar is across from campus. It has polka Fridays.
Another, a British pub, serves great food and drink, but is rather
small, not to mention it's located in a strip mall. Just to give an
example of this conservative model. However, anything you want is
twenty minutes away in LA. Twenty minutes in theory. One hour twenty
minutes in all likelihood. Getting anywhere in LA one must add an
hour to the driving time.
Will
and Amanda had just moved their things in, and unpacked, and settled
down. And they were a glorious three days. All three of them decided
to start a vigorous exercise routine, planned delicious meal for the
week, shopped for food, and decorated the apartment. Three days after
arriving, anticipating a great day, Will gets a phone call which
casts a shadow. His friend, and the best man at his wedding, J calls
and tells him sorry, we can't make it down that far. J, Magnolia,
Kaylee and the man later referred to as 'Fucking Kyle' were all on a
road trip across the country all summer, seeking the elusive American
Adventure. They were supposed to drive to LA to visit before heading
back east. Sorry, but we just don't have the time. We lost a couple
of days in Northern Cali. Kyle says blah, blah, blah, and so forth.
What struck Will and Amanda dumb is that their path will take them a
mere two hours away from Newhall. A four-to-five hour sidetrack
didn't seem that bad, but then again, who were they to say, thought
Will and Amanda. It left them peeved nevertheless.
The
day was again fantastic. They visited the pool at the college campus,
continued to catch up with Rachael, and generally were content.
Pretty
early the next day, Will gets another call from J. This time,
however, it was to a much different tune. The short bus broke. It
needs a new engine. We made it to Baker, but we got a tow back to
Barstow. I hate to ask such a big favor of you, but can you pick us
up?
“Amanda
says you're three hours away, according to Google. I can pick you up.
How long do you need to stay?” Will is incredulous with the irony
of the situation.
“The
mechanic says it should only be two or three days.”
“That
shouldn't be a problem. I thought you guys would scrap the bus if it
broke down.I mean, it's got a ton of miles, right?
“Yeah,
about two-hundred thousand. If it was up to me I would scrap it.”
“You're
not paying for it at least.”
J
hesitated, “I'm helping.”
“That's
pretty stupid, but whatever. I'll see you guys in a couple hours.”
and with that Will hung up. He gathered the things he would need for
the trip. Water bottle, ipod, snack, and such. While gathering these
items, he, Amanda and Rachael talked about how Murphy's law struck
again. It serves them right for not bothering to stop and see us. Who
knows how long until we would see them again? Well it won't be long
now. And with that Will was on his way and a couple hours later
arrived.
The
haggard crew got stranded in what looks like one step above a ghost
town in the middle of the desert. It is hot. The car's A/C is readily
accepted. Apparently the bus doesn't have A/C. J, in all his glory,
is dressed in jean shorts with ragged, stringy edges and a dirty
t-shirt, a slight red but well faded, with holes in assorted places.
Magnolia is wearing a skirt, loose and billowy, one of the only truly
comfortable items of clothing among the group which is well suited
for the weather. Kyle is wearing jean shorts and those grimy shoes.
His shirt is stained. Kaylee is wearing tight black cotton shorts and
a tank top. All are thankful and make their thanks known, except for
Kyle, who gives a halfhearted thanks. Yet, all is jovial still. Will
and J haven't seen each other in a long time, and they have much to
talk about.
Finally,
Kyle stood up. “Fine, all do the stupid dishes. I would gladly
cook, but no one lets me.”
“You've
never asked.”
Kyle
walks into the kitchen, flanked by Amanda and Will who are determined
to make him do his part. Low and behold, Kaylee is at the sink
working away at the dishes from the meal she helped to prep.
Will
chimes in, “Kaylee, you can stop, it's Kyle's turn to do the
dishes.”
“I
don't mind,” she replies, helpful as ever.
“We
do,” asserts Amanda, “Everybody has to pull their weight.”
Kaylee
sets the sponge down and the room is pervaded with the air tension,
palpable in the seething hate Kyle exudes towards Will and Amanda,
his hosts. Kyle tries to control the room, but his powers only work
on his group. Will and Amanda exude an equal amount of demanding
respect and equality. The kitchen brews a stew that not even dish
soap will be able to wash off. Kyle trades places with Kaylee anyway.
Will
and Amanda step back into the living room, still unsatisfied by their
win. Will beckons J to come with him for a walk. They need to discuss
Kyle.
“How
come you're with this guy?”
“We
started partying together, going to raves, and listening to a lot of
the same music. We hung out more and more. He’s pretty cool.”
“He’s
pretty scummy.”
“Whatever.
None of us really get to shower much.”
“You
guys got to shower when you got here. He’s still nasty. You know he
asked us if we wanted to road trip with you guys?”
“No
kidding? Back last fall?”
“Yeah.
Said it would cost three grand a pop. We didn’t have six grand for
a road trip. Not that we would want to travel with him.”
“Yeah,
it’s pricey. But it’s worth it. We’ve seen some great places.
We saw a rainbow with the moonlight over Yosemite Falls. I didn’t
even know that could happen. But I saw it.”
“No
doubt a road trip is worth it. There are amazing places out there. I
certainly wish I had seen those falls. How well do you guys eat?”
“Pretty
badly. All we have is on the bus. We can’t cook very easily, or
refrigerate food. I’ve lost some weight. Sometimes we just eat raw
ramen. Munch on the noodles, ya know?”
“That’s
pretty awful. You know, rice and beans are dirt cheap. So are
potatoes, and eggs. You guys could eat better for the same cost.”
“Kyle
says we need to save money. We need to get across the country. Gas
ain’t cheap.”
“Sounds
like his pretty controlling.” Amanda walks up to us. We’re just
standing around in the backyard under the shade of a large tree.
Silently, she joins them.
J
responds, “Very. The bus is Kaylee’s, but he’s the only allowed
to drive it.”
Amanda
asks, “You mean the whole way?”
“The
whole way.”
“Damn,”
say both Will and Amanda. “That’s a long way,” adds Will.
“How
do you guys pay for gas and food?” inquires Amanda.
“I
had some trouble with my bank, so I put my money in Kyle’s account.
He said that would be the best idea. The easiest for everyone.”
Will
and Amanda couldn’t believe what they heard. “So you at least
have access?”
“Anytime
I need money we can go get some out.”
“I
don’t think you’ll ever see that money again.”
“Nah,
it’s cool. I’m keeping track.”
Amanda
chimes in, “You know, Kyle is not a good guy. You remember Ashley?
He treated her like dirt. He made her wear this ring. It like marked
her as his. Well anytime she didn’t wear it, he wouldn’t even
talk to her.”
“That’s
messed up,” J said, shocked.
“There’s
more. At the school dances, he would make her give him head behind
the coat rack. He’s a bad guy.”
“Oh.”
*****
Kyle sat on the couch on the left side of the
room, closest to the kitchen, using Kaylee's laptop. Kaylee appears
from the kitchen and sits down next to him. Will and Amanda sit on
the other couch which is flush with the wall perpendicular to the
other one. Will is reading, while Amanda is checking Facebook.
“Give
me the computer, please,” implores Kaylee of Kyle, in a gentle
tone, “I need to find a place to get an engine.”
“No,
I'm using Facebook.”
She
takes the computer, “This is more important.”
Kyle
wants none of it, though, and tries taking it back, in addition to
punching her in the arm.
She
passionately responds, “Give me my computer. I fucking hate you!”
Stands up, storms out of the front door, and slams it. Kyle laughs.
“Why
are you laughing?” Amanda asks, “It’s not funny.”
“It's
none of your business.”
“It
is our goddamn business. This is our house.”
“That's
not okay.” Will supports Amanda. They want answers.
Kyle
blows them off. “Fuck off.” and he walks out of the front door.
*****
In
theory, going to sell stuff at Venice Beach sounds like a great idea.
It isn't. It sounds good because there are a lot of people there
already selling stuff, but once you're trying to, it becomes
exceedingly difficult. The gang of six found this out. J asked where
the best place to panhandle might be. He figured if he was going to
be around for a few days he might as well try to earn a couple bucks
begging. Sure, why not? There are two places, Rachael, Will, and
Amanda agreed; Santa Monica pier and Venice beach. Santa Monica pier
is a little more upscale, and already has plenty of beggars. A woman
with a sign claiming she lost her house and is trying to feed three
kids. A man in a sports coat and khaki pants climbing out of the
sewer, somehow clean. Or there's Venice Beach; a fascinating
microcosm of vendors, shops, hobos, skateboards, musclemen, foods,
medicinal weed stores, and randomly shaped concrete objects. Have to
go to the bathroom? There's sure to be a line. It is less upscale
than Santa Monica. A place of the people, thought Will. It was
decided to go there first.
Going
to Venice Beach is a bad idea unless it's first thing in the morning.
The gang of six left around one. Trying to drive up to anywhere close
to the beach took them at least half an hour. They sat in the car,
knowing that the beach is less than a mile away, waiting for traffic,
only to pay twenty bucks for parking. Will paid. Amanda and Will were
expecting to make that back. It ended up a failed business
investment, so to speak. At least they didn't have to walk far. On
Venice Beach there is no divide between extremes. Other places might
try to hide the homeless, the dirt and grime, or the less desirable
aspects society sweeps under the rug. Venice Beach co-inhabits with
it all. There is the ocean and the physical beach, which is quite
nice and the right kind of sand, about hundred to two-hundred feet
wide. A little too far to walk across barefoot. But then there's the
'beach,' the culture that lives there. Lots of grass, a nice wide
swath, with a pathway winding through it for bicycles, rollerblades,
etc, those concrete structures that are unique to Venice Beach, Skate
park, outdoor gym, basketball courts, and bathrooms. And then lining
that is the sidewalk. This is where the most action happens. The
entire length is lined with vendors. They thought they could find a
spot to sit and sell the crafts they made the night before, but they
couldn't.
Amanda
taught them how to make necklaces out of plastic grocery bags. All
except Fucking Kyle worked on making an assortment of necklaces and
bracelets with little cheap beads on them. They all turned out quite
nice and very unique. They spent a portion of the previous night and
that morning making them. They ended up with a dozen necklaces and
eight bracelets. They were proud of their work.
They
arrived at the beach and were an utterly disorganized mess. Will
ended up carrying all of the necklaces, which had been attached to
cardboard, as well as the signs they made to try to get some extra
sympathy money. J looked to Will for advice on where to go. Will
voiced his opinion. We won't get a spot on the main drag. Let's just
set up in the park. It's just as high volume. But Kyle objected, and
his vote ruled majority. Incredulous, Will followed as Kyle
confidently and blindly led them into the throng of pedestrians to
wander for ten minutes, until Will again asserted himself. There, he
said, and this time they followed. It was a smaller trail connecting
the sidewalk to the walkway that wound through the park. They could
at least recuperate. The ladies pulled out signs so they could beg.
Will pulled out the necklaces, but was left to fend for himself.
Everyone dispersed. Will sat on the grass with the necklaces,
imploring passers by to look. Most glanced, but didn't break their
stride. The girls had found a spot on a bench, and some twenty
minutes after leaving Will, they got ahold of him and he walks over
to them. There are vendors to both sides of the bench. The bench is
crowded, and Will is forced to stand slightly to one side.
“Hey,
stop blocking my table! I been here all day,” the man selling Bob
Marley paraphernalia was growing angry, “what makes you think you
can just come out here and cut in front of my business. You got no
right. I'll mess you up.” Will grew anxious. His friends shrugged.
There wasn't room. “I been here all day. I came at six in the
morning, and you think you can just walk up anytime and block my
sales?” Will has stopped holding up the jewlery. Now he just wants
to avoid this guy. Finally a space opens up on the bench. He sits,
but doesn't raise his cardboard again. The girls continue to beg.
“You think you're entitled? Get the fuck outta here.” But the man
just goes back to singing along with Bob Marley, “Don't worry,
about a thing, 'cause every little thing is gunna be alright.” The
girls started to become wary too. Once J and Kyle returned, they all
decided to leave.
In
the end, Magnolia made twenty bucks. It ended up in Kyle's hands.
Will and Amanda were mad that he didn't give it to them for parking.
A failed attempt.
*****
“You need to leave,” in a deadly serious tone
Will asserts his authority, “the three of you are welcome to stay,
but you need to leave, Kyle. You disrespect me, my wife, my sister,
and our home. You disrespect my guests. You need to be out of here
before we go to bed.” It's already dark outside, nearly ten,
leaving a short amount of time for him to figure out his plans, but
his hosts have had enough. He acts like he's in middle school is
Rachael's assessment. Everybody is present except for Amanda, who is
in her room because she doesn't want to explode in anger against
Kyle, for her own sanity, not for his sake.
Will's
statement catches everybody by surprise. Except for Amanda, since she
and Will decided Kyle had overstayed his welcome. J and Magnolia sat
across the room on the couch, stunned into silence, and watching to
see how this develops. Their demeanor relaxed, but their muscles were
tensed. Kyle immediately took to the defensive. His body clenched,
poised as if for attack, and his face creased in incredulity and
anger. He stood close to the middle of the room, Kaylee stood near
the front door, back and to the right of Kyle. Will stood across from
Kaylee, near the doorway into the hall.
“I’ve
been nothing but gracious. I shouldn’t have to leave,” Kyle began
the volleys with a light toss back, holding back on the offensive.
“You
absolutely have not,” volleying back without hesitation. He knew a
slew of Kyle’s offenses, “Amanda drove you into LA to go rent a
truck to pick up an engine. She drove you twenty minutes, only for
you to get there and the rental associate ask for insurance, and what
did you do? Demanded of her to drive you back so you could get it.
Not an apology, or a thanks. That was nearly an hour and a half of
driving, and you treated her as a personal chauffer. You’ve eaten
two weeks of high quality groceries without a thanks.”
Still
determined not to be bested, he replied, “I just show my thanks in
other, more subtle ways.”
“That
is utter bullshit,” not caring to take the highroad, the
politically correct, or the route of Kyle’s manipulation, he fought
hard and strong from the beginning, letting Kyle know that he would
not be swayed, nor would fall for his rhetorical trickery, “You may
have said thank you once, but in all other things you have been mean,
ungrateful, and obstinate. I had to force you to help in the
responsibilities of housework, even when these three have been more
than helpful, I drove you around town, tried to help you earn money,
housed you, fed you, and what have I gotten in return? You’ve
disrespected me. You’ve disrespected my wife. Disrespected my
sister. Disrespected my house guests. It doesn’t matter they are
your travel buddies, because they are under my roof, and I protect my
guests. You have been combative with everyone here. And you have not
cleaned up after yourself.”
Knowing
that at this point there is no turning back, that he has lost, he
began getting offensive, “Fine, I’ll leave. I’ve slept on the
streets before.”
“Good,
so you won’t mind doing it again,” Will jabbed back,
unsympathetically. Knowing he sought to manipulate him into sympathy
and saying he can stay, if only for the night. Will saw through his
intentions.
“You
know what, you and Amanda get to stay here and get jobs. We have to
go home.” Kyle, again, reaching to pluck a string of sympathy,
landed far off the mark.
“Yeah,
we just to live in the real world while you live in your parent’s
basement,” Will crushed Kyle’s aims of any sympathy through
rhetorical means.
Truly
becoming combative, knowing he inevitably had to leave, “You’re
just selfish and demanding. No one gives a shit about you.”
Seeking
to call Kyle out on his true nature and with good intent for Kaylee,
brashly retorted, “You know what? You are abusive and manipulative.
You’ve manipulated J out of his money. You have to control every
situation, and you put others beneath you. I wasn’t going to say
it, but I don’t know if anyone else will. Even your relationship
with Kaylee is abusive. Your sexist, bigot bullshit is not welcome
here.”
Now
Kaylee gets aggressive, “You’re in the abusive relationship.
Amanda has you whipped.”
Kyle
adds, “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know
anything about our relationship,” hearing then that J had betrayed
Will and Amanda’s trust by repeating their conversation to Kyle, he
went on to say, “Went happened with Ashley happened a long time
ago. You don’t even know what that was about. You don’t know me.”
“If
your girlfriend yells ‘I hate you,’ runs out, and slams the door,
there is a problem. Her opinion has also defaulted to your own. I
probably shouldn’t have said anything. But I don’t care. I don’t
take it back. I’m done though. You can leave. Everyone else is
welcome to stay.”
Of
course they all left.
They
found a friend of a friend who could drive them back to Barstow in
the morning. That night they slept in the woods adjacent to the
campus a few miles from the apartment. As luck would have, the bus
broke down two days later in the middle of Utah. The god-forsaken
part; nothing but sand and rocks there. J and Magnolia finally had
enough and took a greyhound home. Kyle and Kaylee stayed. J never got
his money back.
The
day after they left, Will stands at the sink, doing the dishes.
Washing the dishes. Such a simple thing. Just another day. Just
another way to wash off the dirt of the previous day. Kyle wouldn’t
wash the dishes, but Will gladly does. He accepts the consequences of
the soap.
