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Authors: John Twelve Hawks
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onto the little balcony he could see the Pacific Ocean in the distance ,. but he had no use for views and usually kept the curtain closed. After his phone call to Gabriel, he made some coffee, ate a protein bar, and started calling real estate investment firms in New York. Because of the three-hour time difference, they were working in their offices while he was wandering around the living room in his underwear. "Tommy! It's Michael! Did you get that proposal I sent you? What did you think? What did the loan committee say?"
Usually the loan committees were cowardly or foolish, but you couldn't let that stop you. In the last five years, Michael had found enough investors to buy two office buildings and he was about to close a deal for a third building on
Wilshire Boulevard
. Michael expected people to say no and he already had his counterarguments ready.
Around eight o'clock he opened his closet and picked out a pair of gray pants and a navy blue blazer. Adjusting a red silk necktie, he moved through the apartment, passing from one television set to another. Fires and the powerful Santa Ana winds were the big story that morning. A fire in Malibu was threatening the home of a basketball star. Another fire was out of control east of the mountains, and the television screen showed images of people tossing photo albums and armfuls of clothes into their cars.
He took the elevator down to the parking garage and got into his Mercedes. The moment he left his apartment, he felt like a soldier entering a battle to make money. The only person he could count on was Gabriel, but it was obvious that his younger brother was never going to get a real job. Their mother was sick and Michael was still paying for her care. Don't complain, he told himself. Just keep fighting.
After he had saved enough money, he would buy an island somewhere in the Pacific. Neither he nor Gabriel had a girlfriend, and Michael couldn't decide what kind of wives would be suitable for a tropical paradise. In his dream, he and Gabriel were riding horses through the surf and the two wives were slightly out of focus, standing on a bluff wearing long white dresses . The world was warm and sunny and they would be safe, truly safe. Forever.
Chapter 6
A brush fire was still burning in the western hills and the sky was a mustard-yellow color when Gabriel reached the hospice. He left his motorcycle in the parking lot and went inside. The hospice was a converted two-story motel with beds for sixteen patients with terminal illnesses. A nurse from the Philippines named Anna was sitting behind a desk in the lobby.
"It's good you're here, Gabriel. Your mother asks for you."
"Sony I didn't bring any doughnuts tonight."
"I love doughnuts, but they love me too much." Anna touched her plump brown arm. "You must see your mother right now. Very important."
The hospice aides were always washing floors and changing bedsheets, but the building smelled like urine and dead flowers. Gabriel took the stairs to the second floor and walked down the hallway. The fluorescent light fixtures in the ceiling made a soft humming sound.
His mother was asleep when he entered her room. Her body had become a little bump beneath a white sheet. Whenever he visited the hospice, Gabriel tried to remember what his mother was like when he and Michael were boys. She liked to sing to herself when she was alone, mostly old rock-and-roll songs like "Peggy Sue" or "Blue Suede Shoes." She loved birthdays or any other reason to have a family party. Even though they were living in motel rooms, she always wanted to celebrate Arbor Day or the winter solstice.
Gabriel sat beside the bed and took his mother's hand. It felt cold, so he held it tightly. Unlike the other patients at the hospice, his mother hadn't brought in special pillows or framed photographs to transform the sterile environment into a home. Her only personal gesture was when she asked that the room's television be disconnected and taken away.
Usually the loan committees were cowardly or foolish, but you couldn't let that stop you. In the last five years, Michael had found enough investors to buy two office buildings and he was about to close a deal for a third building on
Wilshire Boulevard
. Michael expected people to say no and he already had his counterarguments ready.
Around eight o'clock he opened his closet and picked out a pair of gray pants and a navy blue blazer. Adjusting a red silk necktie, he moved through the apartment, passing from one television set to another. Fires and the powerful Santa Ana winds were the big story that morning. A fire in Malibu was threatening the home of a basketball star. Another fire was out of control east of the mountains, and the television screen showed images of people tossing photo albums and armfuls of clothes into their cars.
He took the elevator down to the parking garage and got into his Mercedes. The moment he left his apartment, he felt like a soldier entering a battle to make money. The only person he could count on was Gabriel, but it was obvious that his younger brother was never going to get a real job. Their mother was sick and Michael was still paying for her care. Don't complain, he told himself. Just keep fighting.
After he had saved enough money, he would buy an island somewhere in the Pacific. Neither he nor Gabriel had a girlfriend, and Michael couldn't decide what kind of wives would be suitable for a tropical paradise. In his dream, he and Gabriel were riding horses through the surf and the two wives were slightly out of focus, standing on a bluff wearing long white dresses . The world was warm and sunny and they would be safe, truly safe. Forever.
Chapter 6
A brush fire was still burning in the western hills and the sky was a mustard-yellow color when Gabriel reached the hospice. He left his motorcycle in the parking lot and went inside. The hospice was a converted two-story motel with beds for sixteen patients with terminal illnesses. A nurse from the Philippines named Anna was sitting behind a desk in the lobby.
"It's good you're here, Gabriel. Your mother asks for you."
"Sony I didn't bring any doughnuts tonight."
"I love doughnuts, but they love me too much." Anna touched her plump brown arm. "You must see your mother right now. Very important."
The hospice aides were always washing floors and changing bedsheets, but the building smelled like urine and dead flowers. Gabriel took the stairs to the second floor and walked down the hallway. The fluorescent light fixtures in the ceiling made a soft humming sound.
His mother was asleep when he entered her room. Her body had become a little bump beneath a white sheet. Whenever he visited the hospice, Gabriel tried to remember what his mother was like when he and Michael were boys. She liked to sing to herself when she was alone, mostly old rock-and-roll songs like "Peggy Sue" or "Blue Suede Shoes." She loved birthdays or any other reason to have a family party. Even though they were living in motel rooms, she always wanted to celebrate Arbor Day or the winter solstice.
Gabriel sat beside the bed and took his mother's hand. It felt cold, so he held it tightly. Unlike the other patients at the hospice, his mother hadn't brought in special pillows or framed photographs to transform the sterile environment into a home. Her only personal gesture was when she asked that the room's television be disconnected and taken away.
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