Echoes of the Pack

Just send me his number when you can. Now I've got an important date to keep."

Will noted the strange car in the driveway of the rented condo he shared with Violet but he

couldn't see her car and thought that one of Violet's friends had given her a lift. Never mind, today

was the day. He would pop the question and all would be right with the world. He opened the door

and stopped dead. There was a suitcase by the door and cardboard boxes full of her possessions on

the table in the kitchen nook. Vi came downstairs at that moment, followed by a man with a full red

beard, carrying another box. Will had seen the man before, at a party he thought, but could not

recall his name.

"Will, I didn't expect you home so soon," said Vi. She was an attractive brunette with a trim

figure who favoured pixie cut hairstyles and was obviously embarrassed by the unexpected

encounter. "I don't know if you remember Nolan."

"Sort of," said Will, glancing at Nolan.

"I'll put the stuff in the car," said Nolan, also obviously embarrassed. He walked out past

Will, leaving the pair alone.

"I was going to leave you a note," said Vi.

"A note?" said Will, "after three years. I even came with you out here."

"I know, and that was sweet Will," she said. "But we weren't going anywhere. You weren't

going anywhere. I wasn't going anywhere."

"I was getting books published," protested Will.

"Your publisher works out of a garage and has to take casual shifts at an IT store to make

ends meet," she said. "You have to write real estate blurbs."

"I write the real estate copy because I came here with you and it was all I could find. I

wasn't planning on doing it all my life."

"Then there's my career," interrupted Vi. "My agent's dropped me, and Nolan has got me a

part in a production off-Broadway."

"New York?"

"We're driving there now," she said.

"Long drive," said Will. He had no idea what else to say.

"We'll do a couple of touristy things on the way. A break."

Nolan came in through the still open door to pick up the suitcase and left again.

"A break? You're going with Nolan for a theatre part and putting in vacation time on the

way? That's it after three years?"

"Will, it was time to move on," she said. "You're a sweet guy and hot. You'll find someone

else, nice, soon and forget about me."

"I don't want to find someone else. I thought we were going well. I thought you were

enjoying our time; you were committed to us."

"Will, I was putting up a front," she said as if explaining an obvious point to a child. "What

can I say, I'm an actress." She kissed him on the cheek. Will did not move. "Thanks for the good

times."

She left. Nolan came in twice more to pick up boxes. On the second visit he paused to say,

"Sorry man."

Will who had sat down heavily at the kitchen table waved his hand to indicate the door,

without looking at the man, but didn't say anything.

"You want the door left open?"

"Close it and go," said Will.

He heard Violet and Nolan drive off then pulled the ring case out of his bag and opened it to

look at the ring.

"Total idiot," he muttered to himself. He thrust the case back in the back and went to sit on

the condo's sofa with his thoughts until long after the sun had set.

The condo in the suburb of Los Feliz, a short distance (in LA terms) from both Hollywood

and the Valley and the natural haunt of every acting wannabe was hardly expensive but Will's

royalty income was trivial and writing real estate advertising copy did not pay well. An additional

problem was that he did not think to cancel the credit card he shared with Vi until the next day

when he checked to see if she had used it. She had withdrawn cash up to the daily limit three times,

including the day before she left, as well as charging the first night's hotel, petrol and meals for

herself and Nolan on it. This came to three thousand two hundred and twenty three dollars and forty

three cents – Will counted it up carefully. Now that really hurt.

Will sold the ring back to the store he got it from, which he found highly embarrassing – the

sales lady smiled throughout – and moved to an even dingier apartment in the same neighbourhood.

This he shared with Leo who worked in the same digital superstore as Buck, Leo's Goth girlfriend

Pandora, always shortened to Pan, and a billion cockroaches. Leo was a cheerful man who declared

that he was into satanism and old Westerns.

"Anything with a shootout, Will," he said. "I love those shootouts."

He didn't say anything about Satanism and Will did not ask.

Pan wanted to set Will up with her Goth girlfriends.

"I have a sad romantic history," he told her, sore over Vi's sudden departure. "If any of your

friends are interested in a gloomy affair ending in a suicide pact, let me know."

To Will's alarm Pan reported that there was some interest in the suicide pact idea, and he

had to firmly reject all offers, sight unseen.

"Tell them I'm thinking of turning gay," he said, "and I'll have the suicide pact with my

new gay partner."

Will reluctantly took casual shifts at the digital superstore as he knew about computers,

fumigated the apartment – the cockroaches were initially discouraged – tried not to think about Vi,

which was hard, and read the script. He wrote out some of his thoughts, trying to be positive, and

sent them to Buck to be relayed to the author, Jason Hap, universally called Hap rather than Jason.

Buck received another request from Hap.

"He wants someone presentable to meet for drinks with a female film industry type," Buck

told Wilma. "He's taken Will's advice to heart and is trying to find out more about the industry."

"Is he trying to find out more about the industry or the assistant?" asked Wilma. "If so, why

the presentable plus one?"

Buck shrugged. "The assistant is bringing a girlfriend."

"Oh, okay," said Wilma. "Then get Will to go. He's not only presentable he's way

presentable, not to mention single, and Hap wants to talk to him too. Tell Will if he wants his books

published then he's to quit moping around, get his butt along to this bar and play nice."

Later that day Will fronted up to an exclusive Hollywood nightclub that Violet would have

killed to get into, mentioned Hap's name at the door as instructed and had his identity checked. He

found the Silicon Valley tycoon sitting in a booth in the bar section which could accommodate four.

Hap motioned Will to sit beside him rather than opposite.

"The ladies will sit there," he said. "I see you got dressed for the occasion."

Will was wearing dark suit pants and a sports jacket with a white shirt that was his best

outfit, and perhaps the only clothing he had that could be worn in an exclusive club. The tycoon, for

his part, was in the Silicon Valley standard of jeans and grey jacket with elbow patches and tee

shirt.

"Wilma gave me a talking to about dress standards," Will said. "I had to describe what I was

going to wear and get her approval."

Hap laughed. "You don't want to cross Wilma. I was best man at their wedding. I didn't

dare mess up."

"You've done well in the valley, I understand," said Will. "Are you still in the same

venture? Software development aids wasn't it?"

"Sold out mostly and bought a house closer to Hollywood," said Hap. "Looking for the next

big thing, like everyone else. Oh, okay here are the ladies now."

Will would have looked but he was distracted by the site of Violet on the TV screen above

the bar. She was presenting an exercise aid in a commercial and looked good. Will was vaguely

aware of someone sitting opposite him but was so absorbed he did not turn around, instead taking a

swig of the foreign beer had had ordered.

He heard someone say, "Who is your friend?" then turned around to find himself looking at

a woman he recognised instantly as the famous star Clarise Chalmers.