Kyalin: Alone, together

7. California

Warning: mild smut

***

Finally, they touched down in Southern California. Kya honked to greet Los Angeles and played the beach boys tape for the umpteenth time.

They rode west on highway 10 and eventually found themselves cruising 101 north, ogling the mile-high skinny palm trees forming a long corridor along the road. The trees angled westward toward the Ocean and were punctuated by tall, swaying cypress with the city and mountainscape as a panoramic backdrop.

The sky was bright and haloed with smog, and heavy traffic had them thinking the 101 was one long parking lot.

"We made it!" Bolin exclaimed and Pabu chirruped atop his shoulder. They leaned out the passenger window, and Bolin inhaled a big breath of smoggy air before yelling ecstatically: "Hellooo Los Angeles! Hollywood, I'm comin' for ya!"

A couple of cars honked; one group of girls in a top-down convertible sang "Wooo-hooo" in chorus as they rode by. He wasn't sure if the gals were wooing at him or just generally excited by SoCal life. But then one of them turned around and blew Bolin a kiss before giggling and taking off the next exit. He blushed, putting his hand to his cheek, and returned to his regular seated position.

"I've got my eye on you, Kiddo," said Lin. She was leaning against a pillow in the back. Bolin turned around, and she pointed two fingers toward her eyes before motioning them in his direction.

Bolin smiled nervously.

"What's the address again?" Kya changed the subject.

"To get to Mako's, the map says to take the 101 North to the 170 North for a few miles and get off on Roscoe. And then bam – hellooo Hollywood!"

"Really? Because that seems pretty far," said Kya.

Bolin nodded. "Yes! I mean no. I mean I have no idea."

Kya took the map and spread it out across her steering wheel as she drove, a skill she had acquired over many years of road-tripping. "Bolin, Mako lives in North Hollywood – that's the Valley!"

"Ohhhh" Bolin said. He scratched his head. "Well I need to get to Sunset Boulevard tomorrow. Is that far? Can I walk there?"

"Only if you wanna walk up hills both ways. We'd drop you off and then you'd probably have to get going pretty quickly after that – it's a long walk," Kya said.

"Somebody seems to know a lot about this place," Lin noticed out loud.

"I spent a few years out here when I was younger, mainly in West Hollywood – where the gays live. I also spent some time down in San Diego -- Hillcrest, also where the gays live. So I guess you could say I know a lil', sweetie."

I love it when you casually call me sweetie, Lin wanted to say but instead smiled discreetly to herself. Only you, Kya, can call me that. "That's lovely, dear. Is this where you picked up your reefer smoking habit?"

"First of all," said Kya, "No one's called it reefer since Nixon was president. Secondly, it's not a habit. Last time I picked up, my pot lasted me six months. Anyway, it can certainly be a lifestyle."

Lin folded arms. " And I'm used to another type of lifestyle. Anyway, I didn't mean to call it a habit. I'm just trying to understand."

"Imagine that – cops trying to understand the people they serve and protect."

Lin chuckled. "Fair enough."

*

They pulled up to a large, decrepit house with an unkempt yard full of dead foliage, a withering Jacaranda tree at the center.