Page 58 of All That Remains
"Don't doubt it. I'd kill for this place."
Bright greens and reds and purples stood out along the walls. Tons of wacky characters and mini comics. Flowers and aliens. His name was written in a dozen different fonts. I spotted his parents’ initials, then each of his sisters'. It was like he allowed everyone who visited to sign.As always, the world was his canvas, and nothing was off limits. Not the electrical boxes outside our houses, nor the tables at our signings on the road, nor the walls in each of his homes. Not even my body. I couldn't begin to recall the number of times I’d woken up to him doodling on my hips, belly, and the tops of my feet with a sharpie.
"Where you stayin’ now?" he asked.
"Laurel Canyon."
"Nice, mate. Cool, cool. That’s soyou.” He nudged me with an elbow.
“Thought so too,” I smiled.
“You like it over there?"
"It's alright. Pretty decent. Kinda lonely sometimes."
"But the quiet…you can’t beat it.”
“True.”
“What d’you get up to over there, anyway?"
"Working. Partying.”
"Hah...yeah. That’s LA for you." He took a deep breath. "Things have beenpretty wildsince I came here last year. I kinda started goin’ nuts. Goin' out too much. Not keepin' me head on straight, y'know?"
"Oh yeah?"
“I feel a bit more centered now that I moved. Somethin’ about ownin’ a home makes me more tranquil than when I rent.”
A breeze stirred as we sat along the wall and continued discussing our separate west-coast experiences. In many ways, they were similar, like the constant partying and general dissolute behavior, but in other ways they varied.
We were entirely alone in his world, drifting on an island in the middle of the Pacific. Our own little oasis, someplace no one could reach us. Like the room in my dad’s bungalow so many years ago. Someplace no one could intimidate us into silence or separation.
I could see myself living here with him in time. Just he and I, all the livelong day—and maybe a few pets. Cranking out new music, getting high, experimenting and experiencing, completely removed from all conventional constructs.
An animal lunged from the bushes and startled me. I stepped behind Rome after picking my shades up from the grass. He laughed at how dramatic I was.
"It's okay, bro,chill!”
“Easy for you to say!”
“She won't hurt you, I promise.” He squatted and scratched it on the head. It was a damned cat.
"Where the fook did it even come from?"
"Neighbor's cat. She roams a lot. Could be from another town for all I know. But she likes me for some reason."
"I can name a few," I said. He handled her so adoringly. For a split second I felt envious. "Does she bite?"
"Not that I've seen. Why? Wanna give 'er a nibble?" he joked, pressing the back of his index finger to her mouth.
She seemed content to brush back and forth beneath his hand, slinking along the wall. I hunkered over him and pet the small grey head.
"She's clean, I promise. No fleas."
Our hands brushed along the cat's back and fire leapt up my arm. It was the first time we’d touched casually, and things were beginning to feel familiar again. I scratched the cat's belly at his behest, using it as an excuse to inhale his cologne.
"She's sweet, isn't she?"
