Los Angeles circa 1976
Chapter 1
They said I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. Choosing to become a P.I. was not what my mother had in mind for me after I got out of ‘Nam. She wanted me to go into the airline industry, or maybe work for a bottling company. It's 1976-our country's bicentennial year, as most of the country is doing their part to celebrate. I returned in "country" after the fall of Saigon last year with my body intact, but my mind somewhat damaged. Nightmares are a recurring theme, so working in a "normal environment" just doesn't work for me. I settled in Hollywood, California, by way of Kansas City, Missouri, just to get out of my folks' hair. I took up being a private dick because it was an easy transition from being in the military.
I reside in a dive of an apartment upstairs from a bar that also doubles as my office. It has a pull out sofa for my bed. It's located on Hollywood and Vine, a block away from Capitol Records Music in an area that's a far cry from the glamour of Hollywood's "golden years".
The bar sits around the corner from 24hr strip clubs, porn stores, and tourist shops, and is run by a tough broad by the name of Bernice Jones. Miss Bernice-as she's called was a former blues singer back in the Chess Record days but fell on hard times herself. Underneath the bar she packs a sawed-off shotgun to ward off the riff-raff that either can't hold their liquor or don't want to leave when she tells them. I on the other hand, am the latest to draw Bernice's ire. For what you ask? My rent is due and I can't make rent.
Just yesterday I got a visit from Bernice. She doesn't like to come looking for you on rent day because it takes her away from her other duties. She came in and bowled right over my secretary-Constance Turner.
"Where's Sam?!" she asked.
"I think he's out…"
"No, he's not-I can smell his cheap Hai Karate cologne, baby!" Bernice said, storming past Constance. She steps into my office with a look on her face that can scare Aunt Esther.
"Sam, you know I don't like coming to find you on rent day!" she yelled.
"You should be man enough to come to me even if you ain't got
it!"
What can I say-she's right. Only a bum would hide away in his office.
"You're right, Miss Bernice. I got caught up calling back
potential clients-trying to get a case," I said, even though I
bullshit. I was looking through the paper for the lottery results-
loser again. "
I'm revoking your drinking privileges at the bar until your rent's paid," she barked. She looks over at my tiny little Fern sitting in the corner that's seen better days. That just happens to be the same Fern that she gave me when I first moved in. Just when she was starting to warm up to me-I can see the veins in her forehead starting to pop. "You make sure you have my rent by next week, or you're out on your ass!" She moves out of the room exactly the way she came in. Like an F4 Tornado.
