Less Than Zero (Page 54)



“You kidding me?”

Ross shakes his head nervously, smiling.

“This, I’ve got to see.” Rip grins. “Come on, Clay.”

“No,” I say. “I don’t think so. I want to see the show.”

“Come on. I want to show you something at my place anyway.”

Trent and I follow Rip and Spin to Rip’s car and Rip tells us to meet them in back of Flip. Trent and I drive down Melrose and Flip is all lit up and closed and we all make a left and then park behind the building in the deserted lot in back. Ross gets out of his VW Rabbit and motions for Rip and Spin and me and Trent to follow him to the alley behind the empty store.

“I hope nobody told the police,” Ross mutters.

“Who else knows about this?” Rip asks.

“Some friends of mine. They found him this afternoon.”

Two girls come out of the darkness of the alley, giggling and holding onto each other. One says, “Jesus, Ross, who is that guy?”

“I don’t know, Alicia.”

“What happened to him?”

“O.D.’d, I guess.”

“Have you called the police?”

“What for?”

One of the girls says, “We gotta bring Marcia. She’ll freak out.”

“Have you girls seen Mimi?” Ross asks.

“She was over here with Derf and they left. We’re gonna see X over at The Roxy.”

“We were just there.”

“Oh, how are they?”

“Okay. They didn’t sing ‘Adult Books’ though.”

“They didn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, they never do.”


“I know.”

“Bummer.”

The girls leave, talking about Billy Zoom, and Rip and Spin and Trent and I follow Ross deeper into the alley.

He’s lying against the back wall, propped up. The face is bloated and pale and the eyes are shut, mouth open and the face belongs to some young, eighteen-, nineteen-year-old boy, dried blood, crusted, above the upper lip.

“Jesus,” Rip says.

Spin’s eyes are wide.

Trent just stands there and says something like “Wild.”

Rip jabs the boy in the stomach with his foot.

“Sure he’s dead?”

“See him moving?” Ross giggles.

“Christ, man. Where did you find this?” Spin asks.

“Word gets around.”

I cannot take my eyes off the dead boy. There are moths flying above his head, twirling around the light bulb that hangs over him, illuminating the scene. Spin kneels down and looks into the boy’s face and studies it earnestly. Trent starts to laugh and lights up a joint. Ross is leaning against a wall, smoking, and he offers me a cigarette. I shake my head and light my own, but my hand’s shaking badly and I drop it.

“Look at that, no socks,” Trent mutters.

We stand there for a while longer. A wind comes through the alley. Sounds of traffic can be heard coming from Melrose.

“Wait a minute,” Spin says. “I think I know this guy.”

“Bullshit,” Rip laughs.

“Man, you are so sick,” Trent says, handing me the joint.

I take a drag and hand it back to Trent and wonder about what would happen if the boy’s eyes were to open.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ross says.

“Wait.” Rip motions for him to stay and then sticks a cigarette in the boy’s mouth. We stand there for five more minutes. Then Spin stands up and shakes his head, scratches at Gumby, and says, “Man, I need a cigarette.”

Rip gets up and holds onto my arm and says to me and Trent, “Listen, you two, you’ve gotta come over to my place.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I’ve got something at my place that will blow your mind.”

Trent giggles expectantly and we all leave the alley.

When we get to Rip’s apartment on Wilshire, he leads us into the bedroom. There’s a naked girl, really young and pretty, lying on the mattress. Her legs are spread and tied to the bedposts and her arms are tied above her head. Her cunt is all rashed and looks dry and I can see that it’s been shaved. She keeps moaning and murmuring words and moving her head from side to side, her eyes half-closed. Someone’s put a lot of makeup on her, clumsily, and she keeps licking her lips, her tongue drags slowly, repeatedly, across them. Spin kneels by the bed and picks up a syringe and whispers something into her ear. The girl doesn’t open her eyes. Spin digs the syringe into her arm. I just stare. Trent says “Wow.” Rip says something.