Number Nine: Chapter 5

A LONG AND WINDING ROAD


FADE IN:

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY – SUNRISE

With Jake sleeping in the passenger seat, Ruby drives through Death Valley as the dark cloud of a sandstorm approaches.

The Beatles’ GLASS ONION from the White Album plays in the foreground.

I told you about Strawberry Fields
You know the place where nothing is real
Well here’s another place you can go
Where everything flows.
Looking through the bent backed tulips
To see how the other half live
Looking through a glass onion…

EXT. SUBURBAN LAS VEGAS – DAY

A detective flashes his badge at the door of SISTER WOMAN, a friend of Ruby. She is small, dark skinned, with green eyes and flowing, Medusa-like hair.

EXT. DEATH VALLEY – DAY

Jake and Ruby struggle against a powerful wind to secure the convertible top.

INT. SISTER WOMAN’S HOUSE – DAY

The detective displays photographs, as he talks unheard: Ruby, Antonio, the boys. Sister Woman shakes her head and, then, shakes her head again.

INT. RUBY’S CAR

As the sandstorm rages all around them, we see images from the tornado scene in The Wizard of Oz. A young girl runs into the arms of her father. Soldiers in a sandstorm fire at random as a chopper flounders above and crashes. A medicine man sits on a desert mountain, gazing at a sunset.

INT. SISTER WOMAN’S HOUSE

Sister Woman follows the detective to the door. He lingers, handing her a card.

EXT. SISTER WOMAN’S HOUSE FROM ABOVE

Ruby’s Dodge pulls in the back of the house as the detective walks to his car.

INT. SISTER WOMAN’S HOUSE

As Sister Woman closes the front door, Ruby knocks on the back. Sister Woman rushes through the house, opens the door, and sees Ruby striking a pose a la Vogue.



Las Vegas is a timeless city born of desperate dreams and raised from a barren wasteland. It is a city that holds forth a promise of wealth and glory and delivers it to one in a million. To 999,999 others it delivers heartbreak. It is a city that calls out in neon: Give me your tired, your poor, your broken spirits yearning to break free. Above all, it is a city of delusions.

Ruby loved Las Vegas. In the diverse experience of her life, it was one of the few places that welcomed her without reservations. Ruby understood Las Vegas like she understood the silver phallus or the spotlight at a piano bar before karaoke. She understood the need and desire to hide dark secrets behind facades of splendor. For every nugget of gold in Vegas, there are a million of fools gold. For every genuine silver dollar, there are a billion wooden nickels. For every fine cut diamond, there are a trillion zirconium fakes. Just as the art of illusions transformed Vegas from a desert dream to a plaster and glitz paradise, Ruby hid her sorrow behind an inviting smile.

The sight and sounds of Las Vegas never failed to remind her of the county fair when she was a child of eight or nine. It was a time when her family maintained an illusion of happiness. It was not real. It was never real. For a time, however, it pleased them to believe that they could be happy. Ruby reflected that her mother had always believed in the miraculous power of a smile. If you pretended you were happy and you believed in the power, you could transform the reality of your miserable life. Ruby’s father – her stepfather really but the only father Ruby had known – never believed in the power but, for a time, he was willing to pretend.

She remembered cotton candy, corn on the cob slathered with creamy butter, and cows so big they seemed like dinosaurs to a little girl with wide eyes. She remembered the smell of barnyards, stale beer and greasy foods. She remembered carnies barking incomprehensible come-ons. She remembered coin tosses, balloons and stuffed pandas, unicorns and clapping monkeys. She remembered feeling proud and special when her father won the Wiley Coyote just for her.

They emerged from the desolate mountains, floated through the hills and were now cruising down a desert highway through Death Valley at sunrise. Jake sensed her deepening mood and felt the weight of her silence but he had no sense of cause or remedy. Despite the emerging sunlight, darkness was pervasive. He was haunted by his own memories of youth when the future was a promise and hope was his companion. He remembered his grandfather taking him on horseback to a high bluff overlooking the desert.

“Nothing in nature happens by accident,” his grandfather said. “Everything has a place and a purpose. When brother hawk flies overhead, pay attention. He has something to tell you. When the snake crosses your path, turn around and walk back the way you came. He is warning you that you are not on the right path.”

Ruby wiped away her silent tears and laughed when she saw that Jake noticed. “It’s nothing, baby. Just memories.”

They drove on in silence until they saw a billowing, dark cloud ahead, winding its way through a desert canyon like a mammoth serpent from ancient and harrowing tale.

“What is that?” asked Ruby.

“Shit,” said Jake. He had seen such sights before but never one so ominous. “Stop the car.” Ruby slowed until they came to a stop. A massive sandstorm was rapidly approaching like the curse of a demon.

“We have two choices,” said Jake. “We can go back the way we came or we can stay put and wait it out.”

“Shit!” said Ruby. Her life was governed by a small set of golden rules, one of which was: Don’t turn back. “Let’s wait it out,” she replied.

“Alright,” said Jake. “Let’s put up the top.”

The wind was howling and the sand stung their skin and eyes as they struggled to secure the top of the convertible. By the time they were safely inside with the windows rolled up they could not see six inches in any direction. Ruby could have sworn she saw the Wicked Witch of the West riding her bicycle in the swirling, writhing storm, little Toto tucked in her wicker basket. She felt them being lifted off the earth and thought they might be swept away to the Land of Oz but feared there would be no Wizard or playful Munchkins. There would only be darkness and gloom. She felt a rush of anxiety, panicked and started to put Sadie in gear. If she was going down, she wanted to go down in motion, blazing a trail like James Dean or Sarah Bernhardt.

Whatever she did, wherever she went, she did not want to die like Billie Holliday or Marilyn, lying in her bed, pumped full of poisons, sinking into the black hole of memories.

Jake gripped her arm and it was only then that she remembered he was there. It was one thing to go out in flames. It was another to take someone else with you. For all the world she would never bring harm to Jake. She moved to him and felt his strength, his quiet courage, and his impregnable calm. He held her until the storm subsided and her sense of balance returned.

“Have you got a Plan B?” asked Jake.

“What do you mean, baby?”

Jake shook his head and looked her dead in the eyes. He was still the hitchhiker and mindful of his limitations but this was a powerful sign and he had to make her understand. It was not a game. It was real. It was happening. Why look to the signs if you are not willing to abide them?

“We’re not supposed to go to Vegas,” he said.

Ruby was stunned. She felt the life force drain from her body. She was suddenly exhausted. She closed her eyes, leaned her head on the steering wheel and waited. When her energy returned it flooded her head with rage. She flew out the door and cursed the storm. She cursed the desert and the blinding sand. She cursed the sun, the sky and the wisp of clouds hovering above. She cursed nine times, kicking up sand and pacing like a mad woman in a fit of rage. Then she came down and climbed back in the car.

“You’re right,” she said. “The trouble is I don’t have another plan. Everything depends on Vegas.”

“Alright,” said Jake. His mind was already racing ahead. He had the makings of a Plan B.

“I have no money,” said Ruby. “I’m driving a car with a red neon sign that says: Arrest me! And I’m the most wanted woman in America! Hey, I’m a star! They’ll make movies about me. Fuck! If I don’t get to Vegas, baby, I don’t have a chance.”

“Alright,” said Jake.

“Look,” Ruby continued, “if you want to go back, I’ll take you back. If you want to get off at the next town, fine. I understand. But I’m going to Vegas. I have no choice.”

“It’s alright,” said Jake. “Just be careful.”

“You’re sticking with me?”

Jake nodded. Ruby gave a rebel yell, grabbed her man and painted his lips with gratitude. Then she popped her in gear and rolled down the road like a woman on a mission, like Sailor and Lula in Wild at Heart, like Jake and Elwood in The Blues Brothers. She burned through Death Valley, streaked over the mountains to the Nevada side and pulled up on a bluff overlooking the neon city.

“There she is,” said Ruby. “Viva Las Vegas!”

She gave Jake a wet kiss and proceeded with caution down the back roads to the home of her best friend in the suburbs. She parked in the alley, popped out of the car, knocked on the back door and struck a pose like the Material Girl in Vogue.

“Sister Woman!” she cried, as her friend grabbed her by the arm, yanked her inside and rushed to the front of her modest home, where she peaked out the window to make sure an unwanted visitor was gone. Only moments before she had been questioned by a Vegas detective who wanted to know where Ruby was and if she had been in contact. Meantime, Jake followed Ruby inside with the silence of a coyote on the prowl.

“Who the fuck is this?” cried Sister Woman. She drew her blinds and closed the back door before settling into her own prowl, a suburban prowl, a distinctly catlike prowl, back and forth in her living room. She was putting the voodoo telescope on him, cat against dog.

“You bring a man to my house?” she demanded.

“Relax,” said Ruby. “This is Jake. I trust him like a brother.”

“Yeah? Since when do you trust brothers?”

“Relax,” Ruby repeated. “I trust him more than I do you.”

Sister Woman had to laugh at that and she let out her air.

“I’m Sister Woman,” she said, extending her hand, which Jake took firmly.

“I’m Jake.”

Everyone in Vegas had two or three names: one for the act, one for the second act, and one they kept to themselves for the family back home. Sister Woman was act two of Shirley Mann from Tupelo, Mississippi. She linked up with Ruby at a Vegas strip club and took refuge from an abusive boyfriend. She owed Ruby more than she knew and more than she wanted to owe anyone.

They sat down to cold beers and Sister Woman explained the layout like the point of an elaborate heist.

“Damn, girl, you’re hotter than Madonna! I hang up the phone, talking to Tony’s boys, and a cop’s at the front door, shooting the breeze and wanting to know what everybody wants to know: Where’s Ruby?”

“You want to know what went down?” asked Ruby.

“I knew what happened when I first heard the news. The boys got frisky, Tony blew them away and pinned the rap on you.”

Sister Woman lit up a cigarette and offered Ruby one.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” said Ruby, springing to her feet. “I need a credit card and twenty four hours.”

“Got you covered,” said Sister Woman.

She went into the bedroom and emerged with a shiny new credit card, bearing the name of Rhonda Whitney, and a fresh tag for her license plates.

“I would have got you the plates,” she said, “but there wasn’t enough time.”

Ruby had tears in her eyes as she gave Sister Woman a warm embrace. It was more than she expected. They were sisters but in the life they were accustomed to living, sisters were one step removed from strangers or worse. Betrayal and payback were the lifeblood of their kind. They held on to each other a little longer than usual, knowing it was probably the last time they would come together.

“We’re even now, girl,” said Sister Woman.

“Twenty four hours,” said Ruby. “Then we’ll be even.”

They left the way they came but Ruby lingered at the back door to look Sister Woman square in the eyes until she saw what she needed to see. Like so many hardened outlaws and criminals, more abused than abusing, there was tenderness beneath a cold exterior. There was true affection, even love, and Ruby was counting on it.

“Twenty four hours, baby.”

“You got it, Ruby,” said Sister Woman, her eyes welling with tears.

“I swear.”