The Continuing Saga of:
”ICICLE BILL and Tommy Two-Head”

Part Two

Chapter Six: Shadows Cast of Shadows Past

     His first memories of maternal bonding were episodes of being hoisted through unlocked backyard windows and running through unfamiliar residences to open the door for his mother. Most of the time the homeowners were gone. Petty burglaries afforded a motel room and hopefully some food for him and his two siblings. Usually, also enough narcotics to keep his mom occupied till the next day.

     They moved frequently from one rundown hotel to the next, rotating through the shadiest L.A. neighborhoods like migrant drifters. They carefully allowed a certain time to pass before revisiting familiar grounds... hoping memories of illicit deeds or unpaid debts to be sufficiently vague. The severity and degree of the misdeeds dictated the length of the probationary period before returning to previously tread territory.

     The first time Tom saw somebody get shot was the summer of his ninth birthday. They were holed up in one of those huge rat-infested multistory hotels in downtown. His mom and another crack whore had devised, in retrospect, a seriously fool-hardy scam. She’d bring a John to an unoccupied room where Tom would be hiding under the bed. Once the John’s clothes were off, he’d make sure his mom had the mark sufficiently distracted, then he’d rummage through the discarded pants for the wallet, taking money and credit cards. Then his mom’s co-conspirator would come running down the hall in a panic, screaming, ”Ruby! Your husband’s coming!” and knock on the door frantically. Naturally, the John would leap from the bed and grab his pile of clothes in a desperate hurry and not realize the theft until out of the hotel and around the corner. Hopefully he was too scared or confused and bewildered to return. It didn’t always go as smooth as the careful planning called for. Occasionally, you had the irate John return and comb the premises for the, ”thieving whore that took my money!”

     On one such encounter the John was waiving a gun in the direction of Tom, his mom and her accomplice, as a cast of half-dressed miscreants dodged from one hotel room to another, making it look like something out of a Marx Brothers movie. Whores, Johns, pimps, pushers, drunks and dope fiends all scattered at once for their miserable lives as the disgruntled John swore revenge on Tom’s mom and ”...the whole lotta you lowlife losers!” In the confused melee that ensued, the gun went off and the bullet ricocheted into the neck of an unusually unlucky overweight and distraught middle-aged businessman, directly in front of Tom. The bullet was still sticking halfway out of the guy’s neck but it had apparently nicked a major artery because blood was gushing pretty freely all over the place.

     The situation had a multi-residual effect. Although a real tragedy and potentially life-threatening experience, not only for the businessman but for the onlookers and involved parties as well...any and all of them operating in the shadows conducting various felonies routinely throughout the day could easily be implicated and swept away into the jail system, many never to be heard from again… this prompted a sort of family vacation for Tom and his family. His brother, sister, mom and grandpa immediately embarked on a road trip as far away from L.A. as a 62 Falcon station wagon and a tank of gas would take them.

     While this journey wasn’t your typical family summer vacation, it was as near as Tom was ever going to get. What transpired during that impromptu road trip was what would cause Tommy Two-Head to shiver upon noticing the dark shadow of that turkey vulture draping across the car hood, all these many years later. Tom never was what you would call a meaty person. Even in adulthood he was on the short end of one-hundred-thirty pounds. A steady diet of leftover pizza crusts and whatever dregs could be found in the bottom of discarded soda cans results in being scrawny. At age nine he was especially slight of physique.

     Somewhere just south of Yosemite the family was parked at a recreation stop that overlooked a deep valley of trees and wildlife that was alien to the kids in a way similar to Marlin in Missouri. They might as well have been discovering the surface of the moon as this was their first exposure to the great out-of-doors without concrete, buildings and billboards. While taking in the scenery and surveying the surroundings, Tom noticed a sign posted that read, ”WARNING – PREDATOR BIRD AREA, KEEP A CLOSE EYE ON FANILY PETS”. Tom thought that seemed odd, the biggest bird he’d ever seen was frozen and wrapped in white plastic at Ralph’s market. An old man parked nearby was also noticing the sign and threw out a challenge to Tom.

     ”Hey kid, I’ll give you five bucks if you can get one a them birds to fly down here!” Well, Tom was as game as the next guy and even at age nine he knew the value of five bucks, he took the challenge seriously. He’d seen enough road runner cartoons to already have a strategy working in his head. He made himself appear even smaller than he was by crouching over, then proceeded to bunny-hop across the parking area. It wasn’t long until he tired of the exercise though and stood up and began walking away. That’s when things got weird.

     Out of nowhere Tom was whacked in the back, and not too lightly! At first he thought it was his grandpa hitting him for acting stupid. He very quickly realized however that he was leaving the ground! He’d been snatched up by a giant horned owl and the beast’s talons were sunk securely in the meat of Tom’s back. In his shear terror he didn’t feel pain but the sensation of leaving the ground and being carried away made his survival instincts kick in. Tom began twisting and fighting, trying to hit the huge owl. Of all the things he’d seen and experienced in his young life, this was a new one to be sure. He’d imagined meeting his end by being shot, run over or even drowned, but to be carried away as dinner for a feathered predator, not even in his most wild dreams had he imagined that.

     The weight of the boy, or the fight in the potential meal was just a little too much for the bird. He dropped Tom from several feet up into a scrub bush. For his trouble, Tom got the scare of his life, a bloody back and an ass whipping from his mom and grandpa. He also got his five dollars after gramps heard the whole story and stomped off after the stranger that had initiated the challenge.

     Needless to say, Tom didn’t grow up to be the kind of guy who was what you’d refer to as the outdoor type. Nor was he the kind of person to spend quiet evenings in the glow of the fire reflecting back on fond memories of a misspent youth. He was more about just getting through to the next day... and he clearly realized that if Icicle Bill hadn’t have happened upon him when he did, there wouldn’t have been any of those. When he’d been tied to that Mesquite tree he was all too aware of the occasional buzzard passing by, checking on him, patiently waiting. Tom could be patient too. He figured when and if Bill wanted to tell him why he was out in the desert burying a body, he would. For now, just having a roof between himself and the sky was good enough. He rolled up the car window, gave a contented sigh and locked the door as he laid back in the soft leather seats. Not even the recent blood stains distracted his reverie. The deep hum of the V-8 was strong and steady and comforting. Both Tommy Two-Head and Icicle Bill realized that the events of the past few days had impacted and bonded them in ways too complicated to express in words. The two new friends rode on in silence.