Chapter 3-3
562 Words
Los Angeles
The next day, Barry Schorr stood in a phone booth in front of a liquor store in L.A. He was feeding change into the small round holes, determined to find the slut who cost him his job and make her pay.
Finally, the phone rang at the other end, and a tiny, young voice answered, “Entertainment by Sanders.”
“Let me talk to Scott,” Barry growled.
She didn’t reply, just connected him.
“Yes,” the voice said, sounding preoccupied.
“Okay, Scott, where the hell is she? I’ve been watching her house for days, and she’s not there. Did she leave L.A.?”
Scott stopped what he was doing and looked up when he heard the deep, guttural voice of Barry Schorr. “Barry, you know I can’t give you that information.”
“Well, somebody had better give it to me, and give it to me quick. That little slut cost me my job, and by God, she’s gonna pay!”
“Look, you bastard, if you don’t want the cops crawlin’ down your throat, you’ll stop all these threats. Blaze’s suffered enough at your hands, and it’s over. Got it? Over!”
Barry pulled the receiver away from his ear and hit it several times against the black square box secured to the wall of the booth.
Scott heard the loud noise and pulled the receiver away from his ear. When it stopped, he gradually brought it back, and listened.
“Did you hear that Sanders? That’s gonna be somebody’s head unless I get what I want!”
“Blaze is not coming back, so get over it, creep!” he yelled into the phone, then slammed it down.
When Barry heard Scott hang up on him, he angrily slammed the phone back down in the hanger. He plunged his hand in his pocket and dug out some more coins and began feeding them into the change slot. While it rang, he decided to use a different approach.
“Entertainment by Sanders,” the young voice said.
“Hello, Melanie,” Barry said, struggling to be pleasant. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Hi, Mr. Schorr.”
He heard her chewing gum, but tried to ignore it. “Hey, let me talk to Scott, okay?”
“He’s not here,” she said, still chomping, “he had to—”
“Not there?” Barry yelled angrily. “I just got through talking to the…” Suddenly, Barry caught himself, and forced himself to soften his voice. “I just got through talking to him.”
“He left right after he hung up. He had a meeting across town and won’t be back today.”
“What a shame.” Barry’s voice dripped with pretense. “Well, Melanie, I guess it’ll have to be you.”
“What do you mean?” the girl said, a worried frown appearing on her face.
“I want you to tell me where Blaze Alexander is. Did she leave town?”
“Mr. Schorr,” she said while taking a big, impatient breath, “I can’t give you that information, you know that.”
“Sure you can,” he said with sickening sweetness.
“No, really I can’t. I’d lose my job.”
Barry fantasized having his hands around her neck. “You know, Melanie, ever since I first saw you, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out.”
A girlish giggle came bubbling out of Melanie’s mouth, and her young face flushed with embarrassment.
“So, how about it?”
“Mr. Schorr,” she began, her giggle lowering to a soft whisper. “I can’t go out with you.”
“Don’t you like me?”
“Well…sure, but…”
When it sounded like she might be changing her mind, Barry jumped in. “All right, so you won’t go out with me. To soothe my broken heart, how about giving me the information about Blaze? You wouldn’t say no to a dying man, would you?”
She giggled again as if it were all a big joke. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
When he heard her reply, Barry’s anger spiraled to savage intensity. With clenched teeth and the continued pretense of a pleasant voice, he asked, “What time do you get off, Melanie?”
“Five…but…”
Click
- Writer
