“I bet.”
“You brothers?”
“Nah, cousins. Rodriguez in Spanish is like Johnson in English, real common. Now give me the keys and go look at cars or something. Me and the boys will take care of our baby.” I tossed him the keys and walked by the wash rack to the street. As I rounded the corner I heard them laughing and hooting as they engaged in a water fight.
I didn’t know what I was looking for, only that the girl had come from this direction and I was praying for something to show up. Ronny Baca, Prayer Detective, that’s me. There was the usual group of businesses along both sides of the streets, with some tire stores, a computer repair shop, a restaurant with Se Habla Ingles Y Chino painted over the door. The big sign over the roof said Wang’s
Mexiteria. Only in LA. Midway down the second block was a 7-Eleven, so I walked in that direction. I figured I could get a Coke and some peanuts and enjoy the AC as I looked over the neighborhood.
**
I went inside the store and was immediately enveloped in refrigerated coolness. The low hum of the air conditioners was barely noticeable. I grinned when I recognized the person behind the counter. He had his head down close to a tabloid newspaper on the counter top, maybe three or four inches from putting his nose on it. He was in his early twenties and had frizzed red hair that made him look like he’d put his finger in a light socket. The lenses in his glasses were thick as coke bottles, and he was cross-eyed. He looked up at me, and his eyes through the lenses looked the size of golf balls. His nametag read LOOMIS.
I got a Coke and some peanuts and walked over to the counter and said, “Hello Loomis,” and placed them on the counter.
Loomis said, “Oh, hi Ronny, Long time no see.” He cleared his throat and stood at attention, “Welcome to 7-Eleven. Would you like to try our two-for-one Big Gulp special?”
I pointed at the Coke and peanuts, “I don’t believe I could drink a gallon of soda, Loomis. These will do fine.”
“Sure thing.” He rang them up and I paid him.
I asked, “You mind if I eat these in here? It’s a little warm outside.”
“Feel free to loiter in our family store as long as you desire, and remember about the two-for-one special.”
“I won’t forget. Thanks.” I chewed peanuts and drank Coke while I looked out at the street as Loomis waited on another customer. There was a surveillance camera mounted on the edge of the building to view cars as they gassed up at the island in front of the store. The customer left and no one came in for the next several minutes. To pass the time I asked Loomis, “Have you been here long?”
“Twenty-three years, four months and six days.”
“You…you don’t look old enough to have been working here that long.”
“Oh, I thought you meant, like, how long have I been here on this earth plane.”
“I meant, like, how long at this particular store?”
Loomis scratched his head and frowned, “Do you mean, like, how long have I been coming here? I started coming here when I was fourteen, so…fourteen from twenty-three years, four months-“
“Noooo. I meant how long have you been working here. At this particular store. On this earth plane.”
“You should talk plainer, Ronny. The way you say things is confusing.”
“I’ll work on it.”
Loomis said, “Thirty-seven work days, excluding holidays. I didn’t work here on holidays, or on my days off and, oh, I was sick one day too, so thirty-six work days.”
“So you’ve been here about two months.”
He looked at me like I had the IQ of an ant. “No sir, I have been here thirty-six-work-days. I was not here on the other days, I was somewhere else.”
I wasn’t going any deeper into this for fear of suddenly seeing Alice and a white rabbit hopping by saying, “I’m late, I’m late.” I said, “Sorry. I understand now.”
Loomis nodded, “Good.” He leaned across the counter and whispered, “Are you still with The Enquirer?”
I looked slowly left and right, then whispered back, “You bet. I’m on an assignment right now, doing it undercover again. Want to play along and help out?”
He nodded, and whispered again, “Make it look real, in case the Venusians come in for energy drinks.”
I blinked a couple of times at his answer, then I made a big play of pulling out my identification and showing him my Private Investigator’s license, “I’m Ronny Baca. Private Detective Extraordinaire.”