It took me several minutes of doing breathing exercises to regain my peace of mind and I wasalmostthere until I spotted my car as he turned onto the street where I’d parked it.
All the contentment I’d been feeling in Patsy’s presence vanished as I realized something was terribly wrong. The driver’s door was standing open and I stared at it, trying to process exactly what I was seeing. Cardboard boxes I’d used to pack up my few belongings were strewn all over the ground at the back, spilling out through the open tailgate. I felt sick to my stomach as I spotted my two good suits lying in puddles left behind from the rain, looking like they’d been run over several times.
The few precious photo albums I’d rescued from my mother’s bedroom with all my childhood pictures and those of my parents, were scattered about. It looked like they’d been recklessly tossed to the wet asphalt while someone went through my things.
Worst of all, my mother’s jewelry box which had contained the few pieces of jewelry she’d owned, was lying in the middle of the street, open, broken, and empty.
“What the fuck?” Patsy swore under his breath as he drove up and parked behind the car.
I felt shocked by the sheer and utter violation of the situation, helpless in the knowledge that the few precious things I owned had been trashed.
The reality of it washed over me like a thick, black wave, threatening to engulf me. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there unmoving until Patsy’s door opened and he stepped out of the VW. As if in a trance, I heard him close the door and a moment later, the door beside me opened. I looked up, blinking several times as he stared down at me. The expression on his face wasn’t pitying this time. It was filled with so much anger, it made me flinch. He must have seen it because he quickly schooled his features and held out his hand. I dazedly took it, allowing him to haul me out of the car as he’d done before.
“It’s okay, Wes. We’ll find out who did this,” he said as I righted myself and started walking up to the mess. I absently began picking up my clothes and putting them back into cardboard boxes when I realized Patsy was making a call. It instantly snapped me out of my fog as I twisted and looked up at him from my squatting position.
“Please don’t call the police, Patsy. I can’t lose my job.”
“I’ll be buggered if I’m goin’ to let anyone get away with doin’ this to ya.” He waved a hand at me. “Don’t touch the box. There’ll be fingerprints.”
I shook my head and stood, reaching for the phone in his hand. “Please,” I implored sadly, curling my fingers around his. “Please don’t involve the police.”
He stared at me for several seconds before my meaning seemed to dawn on him. “Wes, yer not in trouble here. You’ve been with me all day and night and if the bloody LAPD tries to make a problem, I’ll—”
“No, Patsy!” I said more forcefully than before, taking the phone from his hand, realizing he’d let it go. I glanced down at the screen noting he hadn’t made a call before handing it back.
I looked over at the mess on the street and walked over to my suits, picking them up. They were stained with oil and the hopelessness I felt at the sight, threatened to take me to my knees right there in the street. I was supposed to start my new job as soon as the background check was completed. And had no idea what I was going to do without the money to have them dry cleaned, much less replace them if the stains wouldn’t come out. I stood there holding them, looking at them through swimming eyes when I felt a hand on my arm.
“Come on, Wes, let’s gather the rest of yer things and get them into my car,” Patsy said quietly. The expression on his face was full of pity again, and this time I couldn’t hide my own cringeworthy expression. I hated being thought of as pathetic, but that’s exactly what I was feeling. I felt insignificant. With no money, and no possessions left, I felt like my world had imploded, crashing in on itself.
I followed Patsy around, picking up my scattered belongings and dumping them in the box he held. The photo albums were the greatest loss. Someone had run over them, ruining my parents’ wedding photo and others my mother had methodically glued into the books as I grew up. I wondered what had gone through the driver’s head when he ran over the photo albums like that. He probably considered my things just more detritus along with the rest of the trash staining certain neighborhoods of Hollywood; I felt sick all over again.
Underneath my suits, I spotted my mother’s small Catholic Bible and picked it up, brushing grime off the battered leather cover. In her last days, how many times had I read to her from this book she loved. Tears welled up in my eyes as I carefullytucked it away in one of the boxes. It was a dear keepsake my father had given her on their wedding day. I was just grateful the thieves had deemed it as having no value, and left it behind.
It didn’t take more than five minutes to gather all my things from the street, packing them away in the few cardboard boxes which I’d left in the car. I’d somehow come back in the morning to hunt for anything I couldn’t see in the dark. Perhaps I’d find my mother’s crucifix discarded like trash. It was the one thing from her jewelry box that was worth anything, and then only to me. The balance of her jewelry was costume…all but her wedding ring which I always kept tucked into my wallet. Even the crucifix was made from only glass beads and stainless steel, not worth much to thieves.
“Is that all of it then?” Patsy asked.
I thought for a few seconds and then remembered I’d tucked my driver’s license and employment paperwork in the glove compartment. “Hang on one more second, Patsy.” I ran around to the front passenger door and felt myself pale the moment I got it open and saw that someone had opened the glove box and spilled the contents onto the floor. I picked up the employment paperwork consisting of some government forms which needed to be filled out but couldn’t find my driver’s license anywhere. I began to panic as I rifled through the glove compartment and all over the floor and seats; it was nowhere to be found.
“What’re yer lookin’ for? Is somethin’ else missin’?”
I straightened and turned to Patsy as I felt his hand on my shoulder. “My driver’s license. I know it was here…with this paperwork,” I muttered, once again, bending down and searching the carpeted floor of the car.
“Why wasn’t yer license in yer wallet?”
I sighed deeply, straightening again as I turned to look at him. “The last time I was at Caltech, I took it out because human resources wanted a copy of it. I remember rolling it up in the paperwork they gave me and shoving it in the glovebox. I meant to take it out, but I was so excited about the new job, I completely forgot about it. Do you remember me telling the gunman I didn’t have a wallet the night we were robbed? I hadn’t been lying, Patsy.”
He looked at the car seat where papers were strewn. “And yer sure it’s not there?”
I nodded, looking back at the car. “My wallet is missing too.”
“And yer money?”
I snorted. “I had less than twenty-five dollars in there.”
He nodded slowly, looking awkward. “Okay, Wes.” He patted my shoulder again. “Come on then, mate. Let’s go back to my place. I know yer starvin’ and ya look knackered. When was the last time ya took a pain pill?”
The truth was, I hadn’t. I hated taking anything that made my brain feel muddled. My job required me to function with a high level of intellect and I couldn’t make complicated numerical calculations when I couldn’t think straight.
