I drove down La Brea in rush hour traffic on a Friday, anyone who lives in Los Angeles knows that Friday is theeee dreaded day for traffic. It was hot and I was fighting a bit of a head cold but it was my birthday so I fought through it thinking about the margarita and the laughs I would have later on in the evening. My facebook blew up all day with birthday messages and I was overcome by the new cast of characters that had found me in this lifetime. I am grateful for their kindness.
As I fiddled with the radio stations going back and forth between Power 106 and Jack FM, I had to stop for the gridlock. I looked to my right and this young girl was standing in front of an abandoned store front that had all the windows blacked out. She was wearing daisy dukes and had flaming red hair to match her tank top, she was pale and could easily be the next "it" girl here in Hollywood if her number came up and she met the "right" people to launch her. She shifted from one leg to another and she was in impeccable shape. Weren't we all at that age. She looked like she took ballet class, her posture was perfect. As I imagined an idyllic life she had prior to coming to the big city I began to notice that something did not look right. She popped an envelope through the slot in the door that had bars on it, she continued to fidget and looked left then right. Her sweetness was no longer palpable and her movements were quick. She looked like she was on some sort of mission. Just as traffic started to move the heavy door in front of her opened quickly and a big burly guy grabbed her arm, no pleasantries or smiles were exchanged and he ushered her in from the sunlight. Before I could press my gas she was gone. I looked at my arms and there were goose bumps on them. Something didn't feel right, I reached for my blackberry and dialed 911.
A voice answered the phone, it was nasally "911, what's your emergency?"
"Hi, I'm not sure I should be calling you and I never do this, but I want to report some suspicious activity."
"What happened?"
"Well I saw this young girl standing on the street, blah, blah blah."
"Hold please, I'm transferring you to the Wilshire district, ask for a detective."
Before I could answer, the phone was ringing. It must of rang 100 times. I had just pulled into Yogurtland so I let it ring and ring while I got my pistachio yogurt with blueberries and walnuts. I placed my cup on the scale.
"1.97 please."
Yes, I was happy, I always kept it under two dollars.
I was fumbling for some change when I finally heard a voice on the other end of the line.
"Detective Gutierrez, how can I help you?"
"Hi, I never do this but I want to report some suspicious activity, I saw this teenage girl standing on La Brea in front of an abandoned store front with blacked out windows and......."
"Ok, we are going to send the vice squad to go check it out."
"Thank you, thank you so much, I hope that girl is ok."
I hung up the phone and finished my yogurt and thought about when I first moved here. I was so blessed to find just one person to look after me. She was my life line, my stability and my best friend. Every year on my birthday she would get me a cake with my photo on it. They have cake shops here in Hollywood that do that and she loved seeing my face every time she unveiled it year after year. It was always accompanied by the most lovely card, I have them all saved wrapped in a bow that I keep in my top drawer.
Tonight I will celebrate with my new friends and some old friends that have become new again. I am grateful that I never ended up on La Brea alone waiting for some heavy mysterious door to open. I thank God that I had someone who always wanted to know where I was and what I was doing and if I was OK. I miss Cassie everyday and I will toast her favorite margarita at her favorite restaurant tonight. I will quietly remember the cake and remember how she always told me to never give up.
Cheers to another year in Los Angeles and another year of life.
Thank you :)
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