[Paws pantomime a plug being pulled out. That's not a commentary on Freddy's technical skills. Just frustration on Larry's part. He goes to see for himself, he's that impatient. Going closer means more tunes blast. The rumble from the metal is more pronounced in his chest.]
[What kind of question is that...Freddy goes to unplug the TV except the screen flickers for only 0.2 seconds before continuing on. Now he shakes the plug at Lawrence Dimick like "See?!"]
It's been like that since I turned it on!
[And the kid thought it would be brilliant to just overpower the music with some Led Zeppelin. Yep.]
[He's already putting his jacket on when he gets what Larry's saying too. Right. Off to the player to move the needle, it's a kindness to his records. Now it's just the Christmas music playing.]
[Through the door and out to the stairwell. From here he can hear more music, this jingle bell shit coming from some other apartment. Poor suckers. The closer they get to the roof though the fainter the music grows.]
Me neither. [Elevators are just faster, okay.] Especially now.
[And up they go! Have they been to the top before? The old man is trying to recall. A few more flights up, he feels like he can pull out the ear plugs. The small things are offensively neon orange.]
Good idea, pal. I'm glad one of us could keep his head straight with all that.
[The Christmas hit parade was being played in a Freddy music volume range. That must be it.]
[Pretty sure he's caught the old man getting his summer tan up here at least once. Tonight though it's too cold for that but at least they're alone. Seems like only they've given the roof top a try. It's deserted save for a few left over chairs. Up here the Christmas music is still audible but now it's more like a background melody. Easy to tune out.]
You suggested it.
[Freddy counters, still unaware the old man meant upstairs, not the roof.]
[Fresh, cool air and the city stretched out all around. A deep breath in and a heavy, relieved exhale out. Larry lets the door close heavily behind him. There were a few times he crept on off to attempt to sun in the buff, okay. Except it's hard to do with other people poking around.]
I suggested up stairs. This one's on you.
[He pats on Freddy's shoulder rather heavily.]
Lifesaver.
[This calls for a celebratory something. Not a Chesterfield though. The old man reaches on into his jacket.]
Got something I thought we could share.
[Free of invading seasonal music and all it brings around.]
[He sort of sways under that patting paw because Lawrence Dimick's got a heavy arm okay? Now Freddy's curious though because one never really knows what Larry means when he says he's got something to share? What could it be? He knows better than to bring something home that could raise up his conscience.]
What's that?
[He hopes it's something ridiculous yet characteristic of a high roller, like an ice cream bar dusted in edible gold. Cigars will do fine though...the imported kind hand-rolled by only the most sophisticated South Americans who also run a cocaine business on the side. That's better than actual cocaine though.]
[It so happens to be a South American culture byproduct and a sort of cigar of sorts. Larry peels away the thin plastic wrapper.]
A cigarillo. Here. Have a smell.
[While it is wrapped in a tobacco leaf, it's flavored with peach. Let the kid find out for himself. To those convenient chairs now, since it looks like they'll be up here awhile.
No coke. So far, so good. Holy Christ. Looks like it'll be a year clean coming up. He hopes that he can make it. Those swinging holiday parties are going to start up. Maybe he could bring Freddy along.]
[Freddy accepts the cigarillo for a sniff. Not bad. He doesn't get his lighter out either because he wants Larry to do the honors, but only after they settle into the chairs overlooking their part of town. It's not a particular high view but it's nice after sundown, all those city lights never seem to go out, excluding curses of course.]
[Better to be safe then sorry. He'd feel like such a heel handing it over without a few pointers even if he's done it before. It's small, cigarette like. Thankfully Freddy isn't offended by small reminders.]
It sounded better to me than French vanilla.
[The old man loosens his tie. Freddy can pass it on over when he feels finished.]
Fuck all, we got a whole month of Christmas songs ahead and I've had it.
I don't mind vanilla. [Offhand remark about the flavor among other things.] Fuck if everyday's like today. That shit happened last year.
[The kid remembers cause goddamn they've been here for over a year. It'll be another birthday for him, a year since he told the old man he's a cop. A year since Larry broke his ribs and a year since Freddy dragged him away from his coke. Here he'll pass it over now.]
If we were still in our old place, there'd be no hiding.
[Now they're on the same wavelength of reflection. What more do they have between them other than a badge? The holidays can't be as bad as they were. No one is going to beat up anyone else. No one is going to be about bursting with a bad secret.
Larry leans back a little in his chair and watches this man exhale the smoke.]
[He'll add as his last note on that subject because what's fucking face to face in bed if not vanilla? He'll be damned if old fashioned Dimick doesn't consider that a classic.]
We could've fucked off to the beach. [A shrug.] Start a fire there, warm up for the night.
Your oldie is my goodie. [The old man shifts and takes the cigarillo out of his mouth to have a taste now. Having different tastes and ages means they're never gonna run out of comparing humor and jabs.]
A fire. [Puff. A plume of smoke goes up in the air between them.] Are you cold or something?
[He says right to the face of the only person who could possibly be deaf, which is Mr. White. Then with that cigarillo presented to him Freddy purses his lips around the thing before shrugging his jacket off. What's Larry up to? He's curious.]
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[Paws pantomime a plug being pulled out. That's not a commentary on Freddy's technical skills. Just frustration on Larry's part. He goes to see for himself, he's that impatient. Going closer means more tunes blast. The rumble from the metal is more pronounced in his chest.]
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It's been like that since I turned it on!
[And the kid thought it would be brilliant to just overpower the music with some Led Zeppelin. Yep.]
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[Huff. Puff. He makes like he's gonna pull some hair out. And his hair should be appreciated while he has that much.]
Shit I can't even think!
[What if they break it? Pft. Then they have to get a new one. Larry puts his hands on his hips.]
Is it as noisy upstairs.
[Noise gets a point to his ear and upstairs a gesture. Shouting conversation gets even more animated than the typical angry bear.]
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[Freddy shouts back, yapping away in the face of a huffing and puffing bear.] I don't know I didn't try. Good idea.
[He's ready to move.]
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[If only to get a chance to stop shouting at one another. Larry didn't even take off his coat or anything. He's ready to go. Wait though.]
Going to leave that on?
[The tunes, Freddy. That no rule sort of rock and roll.]
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Let's go.
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Wanna try the stairs? It's in the goddamn elevator.
[Modern modes of convenient transportation are against them. First buses, now elevators. What next?]
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[Through the door and out to the stairwell. From here he can hear more music, this jingle bell shit coming from some other apartment. Poor suckers. The closer they get to the roof though the fainter the music grows.]
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[And up they go! Have they been to the top before? The old man is trying to recall. A few more flights up, he feels like he can pull out the ear plugs. The small things are offensively neon orange.]
Good idea, pal. I'm glad one of us could keep his head straight with all that.
[The Christmas hit parade was being played in a Freddy music volume range. That must be it.]
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You suggested it.
[Freddy counters, still unaware the old man meant upstairs, not the roof.]
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I suggested up stairs. This one's on you.
[He pats on Freddy's shoulder rather heavily.]
Lifesaver.
[This calls for a celebratory something. Not a Chesterfield though. The old man reaches on into his jacket.]
Got something I thought we could share.
[Free of invading seasonal music and all it brings around.]
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What's that?
[He hopes it's something ridiculous yet characteristic of a high roller, like an ice cream bar dusted in edible gold. Cigars will do fine though...the imported kind hand-rolled by only the most sophisticated South Americans who also run a cocaine business on the side. That's better than actual cocaine though.]
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A cigarillo. Here. Have a smell.
[While it is wrapped in a tobacco leaf, it's flavored with peach. Let the kid find out for himself. To those convenient chairs now, since it looks like they'll be up here awhile.
No coke. So far, so good. Holy Christ. Looks like it'll be a year clean coming up. He hopes that he can make it. Those swinging holiday parties are going to start up. Maybe he could bring Freddy along.]
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[Freddy accepts the cigarillo for a sniff. Not bad. He doesn't get his lighter out either because he wants Larry to do the honors, but only after they settle into the chairs overlooking their part of town. It's not a particular high view but it's nice after sundown, all those city lights never seem to go out, excluding curses of course.]
Light me up.
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Take a puff. Don't inhale.
[Click of his lighter. Larry guards the flame from the wind.]
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Peachy.
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It sounded better to me than French vanilla.
[The old man loosens his tie. Freddy can pass it on over when he feels finished.]
Fuck all, we got a whole month of Christmas songs ahead and I've had it.
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[The kid remembers cause goddamn they've been here for over a year. It'll be another birthday for him, a year since he told the old man he's a cop. A year since Larry broke his ribs and a year since Freddy dragged him away from his coke. Here he'll pass it over now.]
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[Yeah. He'll leave it just like that.]
If we were still in our old place, there'd be no hiding.
[Now they're on the same wavelength of reflection. What more do they have between them other than a badge? The holidays can't be as bad as they were. No one is going to beat up anyone else. No one is going to be about bursting with a bad secret.
Larry leans back a little in his chair and watches this man exhale the smoke.]
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[He'll add as his last note on that subject because what's fucking face to face in bed if not vanilla? He'll be damned if old fashioned Dimick doesn't consider that a classic.]
We could've fucked off to the beach. [A shrug.] Start a fire there, warm up for the night.
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A fire. [Puff. A plume of smoke goes up in the air between them.] Are you cold or something?
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[He acts out shivering and shuddering only because it's more fun to do than asking Larry to warm him up.]
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[Another puff but he gets the message loud and clear. Now he'll loosen up his tie completely.]
Guess we'll have to make due then.
[Larry pulls the cigarillo from his lips and holds it up to Freddy's.]
Hold this.
[The loose tie he pulls and holds either ends.]
Take off your coat.
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[He says right to the face of the only person who could possibly be deaf, which is Mr. White. Then with that cigarillo presented to him Freddy purses his lips around the thing before shrugging his jacket off. What's Larry up to? He's curious.]
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[Said with love and amusement. Cheeky son of a bitch.]
Put it down and kneel so I can figure out the best way to fuck you on this roof.
[To warm him up, to pass the time...most of all because he wants to and because they can.]
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