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When Rick Dalton crashed his car, he was nine whiskey sours past having a good time. He knew he should have stopped a while ago, but sometimes drinking really does make him forget about his career and how it’s practically over at this point. At least that’s how he sees it. He hadn’t booked a solid part since Bounty Law ended, and he had to find a new agent after his last one dumped him for some new up and comer. Not to say he hasn’t had work. He’s had a few small parts, done a couple of advertisements for Red Apple cigarettes, even though he hated the things. It’s just not what he’d hoped for when he thought he’d try and make a name for himself staring in big Hollywood movies.
Now, he was sitting on the curb, holding a wet rag to the spot on his head that had hit the steering wheel. A small trickle of blood was flowing down his temple. He had really fucked up this time.
“Dalton was it?”
A bright light was shining in Rick’s face as one of the responding officers walked towards him. Rick held his hand up to block the light, his head, screaming in pain.
“Ah-d yeah. R-Ri-Rick Dalton”
“Oh yeah, I recognize you from that TV show, what was it? Bounty Law! I used to have a lunch box with Jake Cahil on it! Shame the show got canned. I always thought you’d be the next big thing. Huh funny who you run into in this city,” the office smiled and shook his head at Rick who just smiled politely, a small twinge of annoyance in his face.
While Rick appreciated being recognized on the street and had signed more Jake Cahil Lunch boxes than he could count, it still hurt when people referred to his career in the past tense.
Rick looked up at the officer who was scribbling furiously on his little notepad.
“How much have you had to drink tonight Mr.Dalton? Third time in two months we’ve pulled you over smelling like a liquor store. But now you’ve really gone an’ done it this time,” the cop said, gesturing over to Rick’s cream Cadillac. “I’m afraid you’re not gonna be driving ‘round in that thing anymore.”
Smoke was steadily pouring out from under the crumpled hood, and Rick wondered how long it’d be in the shop for this time.
“You got someone who can pick you up tonight?”
Rick had to think, which, in his drunken state, was asking a lot, but he knew who’d answer this late, and he knew he could keep a secret.
“Uh ah y-yeah, I got a buddy who’ll…” Rick trailed off as he tried to stand up from the curb. The sudden rush to his head almost sent him stumbling to his knees, but the officer was quick to steady Rick at his arm. Apparently Rick couldn’t hold his liquor as well as he used to. His head was pounding and he almost felt like he was going to vomit on the office’s shiny black shoes. He took a moment to gather himself and try to focus.
“You need money for the pay phone?,” the cop asked.
Rick shook his head, which he instantly regretted, as he dug into his pocket for some change. He focused on the payphone that was towards the far corner of the bar, and slowly stumbled past the officer.
The bout of clarity and sobriety, that the adrenaline from the crash and talking to the officer had provided, was long gone by the time Rick reached the phone. He had to lean heavily on the wall next to the phone too keep himself upright as he dialed the operator. Every tick of the dial seemed to click directly in his brain it was too loud.
“Can I get connected to the Va-vaan Nuuuys drive in pleassse,” Rick’s speech was starting to slur. He hoped he had said it clear enough for the lady to understand.
“One moment,” a pleasant voice said as she connected him through.
It took a while before the phone was picked up on the other end. The manager of the drive in was a nice elderly man who Rick had only met a couple of times in passing. Rick stumbled over his words and he kept apologizing to him even after the man had already set the phone down to walk around back. Rick was trying to focus on what he’d say, and like his lines, he started practicing out loud. It felt like another eternity before Rick heard a voice on the line again.
“Rick?”
Cliff Sounded tired and confused.
“Hey..ol’ buddy...I really…..I really... need a-a-a favor.”
——-
Cliff didn’t know who’d be knocking at his door this late. He definitely wasn’t expecting company and Brandy had her ears perked up at the noise. He’d fallen asleep on his chair in front of the TV, his empty pot of Kraft dinner on the table next to him. He really needed to remember milk and butter next time he went went to the grocery store for more cans of dog food because it was almost inedible otherwise.
The knock rattled again so Cliff guessed whoever it was thought it was important enough to come all this way to bother him. When he opened the door, Cliff saw Henry, the manager from the drive in standing outside. Cliff had been picking up odd jobs around Van Nuys in exchange for parking his trailer around back. Henry was getting up there in age, and he couldn’t always do the repairs needed to keep the place running. Cliff enjoyed the work well enough, and Henry was a real nice guy once you got to know him.
“You’ve got a phone call,” Henry said. “Some guy saying he’s a friend a’ yours. I think it’s that cowboy guy you used to work with out at Spahn’s? He sounded drunk on the phone, and I wasn’t gonna bother you an’ tell to call back tomorrow, but he insisted he spoke to you.”
“Sorry about that, Rick’s a good man, just doesn’t know when to quit sometimes. I’ll come grab the phone. Thanks Henry.”
Henry just waved Cliff off as he walked away back to the projection building.
If Rick was calling him, something was wrong. Rick never called unless he was in trouble. Then again, they were usually always getting in trouble together, and he didn’t need to call. Cliff and Rick had become pretty inseparable over the years.
In the office, Rick picked up the handset Henry had set down on the counter. Cliff could hear someone on the other end talking to empty air.
“Rick?” Cliff asked.
“Hey..ole’ buddy...I really…..I really... need a-a-a favor.”
Rick was definitely drunk. He was stuttering and slurring his words pretty heavily on the other end. Cliff got a little worried thinking about why a very drunk Rick would be calling him so late.
“Everything ok? Are you hurt or something?” Cliff asked, a little panic in his voice now.
“Oh..well..yeah see I-I was drinkin’.....and I know I should stop, I’m g-gonna stop after tonight, but…. I was talking to the officer….. and I think they’re …….gonna…... take my license this time Cliff….but he said I can call a friend and …...since y-you’re the friend I have…...I called you. Well, …...I called Henry because I forgot your number, so if he’s mad then I’m real sorry Cliff…..but I need you to come get me….please.”
Cliff almost couldn’t follow along between how fast Rick was trying to talk and how jumbled everything he was saying was coming out. The panic was getting worse at the mention of police and something about a license. Cliff had been there for the other times Rick had been busted for drunk driving, but hearing Rick talk, this time was a lot worse.
“Where are you?”
“Do you remember….. that bar we went to-to-to celebrate after the Hull..a...ba...loo episode?”
“Yeah. Ok. Stay put. I’ll be there in 25 minutes Rick. Don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get there. And stop talking to the cops.” Cliff was already hanging up the phone and halfway to his car when he realized how worried he was that Rick was in trouble or seriously hurt.
-
Cliff got there in 15 minutes.
All it took was some fancy turning and some questionable traffic violations before he was pulling into the lot. By now, most of the cop cars had cleared out. There was one sitting towards the back of the parking lot, but Cliff didn’t see the officer anywhere nearby. He figured the guy had snuck off to grab a drink, not realizing he had gotten left behind. At the corner of the building, Cliff could see the pay phone and the outline of his best friend that was carefully bracing himself against the wall. The neon of the bar’s sign made Rick’s skin glow blue and yellow.
Cliff pulled in front of his friend and put the car in park. When he caught Rick’s attention, he saw him break out in a big shit eating grin. Like a spoiled kid who knew they had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Cliff stepped out of his car and called to Rick, “Where the hell’s your car?”
“Towed. They saaaid I.. totaled it.”
“Jesus Rick!”
“N-N-Now I-I know that sounds bad, but I barely even scratched the building and I didn’t even really hit the paint on the car”.
Cliff stared at his friend in disbelief as he listened to him garbled out nonsense. Him and Rick had gotten drunk loads of times but this took the cake.
“And they finally take your license away? Keep your ass off the roads? Save a lotta lives in the process?” Cliff was only half joking. He didn’t know how Rick managed to not only drive drunk, but crashed his car into a building, and only come out with a scratch on his forehead. He thought of all the horrible car wrecks he’d seen in his years as a stuntman. He had to stop himself from thinking about having to pull his closest friend out of one of those kinda wrecks.
“Well what are you waiting for? Let’s get you home,” Cliff motioned for Rick to get in the passenger seat.
“If I move. I will fall over.”
Cliff couldn’t help but laugh as he walked over to offer his friend help. He gently grabbed Rick by both shoulders to pull him upright and get him moving. Cliff felt Rick’s hands grab on either side of his waist and gently squeeze as he tried to steady himself. Rick was laughing like a hyena.
“I feel like my head is gonna pop,” Rick’s fingers slid to the exposed bit of Cliff’s skin where his t-shirt had ridden up. Cliff could feel him absentmindedly tracing the area with his fingertips as Rick focused on not falling over.
It sent a shiver through Cliff’s spine and down low in his stomach. He stopped himself from brushing away the hair that had fallen into Rick’s face.
When Rick was ready, they carefully walked to the passenger side door, and Cliff helped get Rick situated.
“If you get sick in my car, I’m tossing you on the side of the road.”
Rick suddenly looked very serious. As though this would be the most difficult thing he’s ever been asked. “If I can roll the window down, an-an-and you don’t drive like a maniac. I think I’ll manage.”
Cliff just shook his head and laughed at his friend who was now laying with his head halfway out of the window. He carefully pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, making sure to avoid the bumpiest parts as best he could.
-
They managed to make it all the way to Rick’s house on Cielo Dr. without incident. Cliff had even thought Rick had fallen asleep. The cool wind had blown though Rick’s hair as they drove, and had left it swept back in mess at the top of his head. Cliff could see the steady rise and fall of Rick’s chest as watched him from across the car.
“Are we home? We stopped moving,” Rick mumbled, his eyes still shut.
“Yeah, let’s get you to bed.”
He sort of had to hobble and drag Rick along with him until he could prop him against the door frame. Cliff was trying to fit the key in the lock but Rick was making it very difficult.
Rick positioned himself in between Cliff and the door and threw his arms around Cliff’s neck in a sort of hug. It forced Cliff to give up on the key momentarily in favor of staring at the man in front of him who, Cliff noticed, was pushed flush against his chest, their breath shared between them. Cliff could feel his heart flutter at the feeling of being so close to his friend.
“You’re my best friend. You know that right?” Rick said, breaking the silence.”I-I’ve never had a friend like you. You’re my best buddy and my brother. From now to the end.” A wide grin spread across Rick’s face.
Cliff just shook his head and laughed, trying to hide the blush that had come to his cheeks. Even if it was mostly the alcohol talking, he couldn’t help but smile back at his friend who was clearly more drunk than he realized. “Get inside before I change my mind about answering that phone call.”
Rick untangled his arms from around Cliff’s neck and stumbled inside. Cliff rubbed the back of his neck where Rick had held on to him. It sent a shiver down his back. Rick was certainly a handsy drunk. Not that he meant anything by it.
Cliff caught Rick by the arm before he could crash onto the couch. Cliff knew Rick was already in for a terrible morning, the least he could do was get him to his bedroom.
Rick seemed panicked when spoke next in a moment of sober clarity,“What am I gonna do about my car? Th-the cops took my license. Wha-what am I s’posed to do?”
Cliff replied easily,”Well if you want, I can pick you up for your call time tomorrow? It’ll be along my way so I don’t mind.”
In reality, Rick’s house was a detour on the way to the set from Van Nuys, but Cliff really didn’t mind.
Once again, Rick threw his arms around Cliff. This time, he squeezed harder and sort of sniffled. “I promise this is the last time Cliff. I’m done drinking. You won’t have to worry about me.”
“I’ll probably worry about you anyway. And, I say that with confidence knowing you won’t remember this conversation in the morning. Now get in bed and sleep it off.”
Rick turned from Cliff and fell into his bed, landing hard on his back. Cliff really did worry Rick drank too much. He didn’t know if it was nerves about the new part or something about his looks, but it made Cliff really think. If he lost Rick, he didn’t know what he’d do. But he wouldn’t argue now. Not yet.
Cliff worked on pulling off Rick’s shoes and helped him out of his brown leather jacket. He also made sure to lay it flat on the chair in the corner, so Rick wouldn’t be upset in the morning. He looked to see Rick had already fallen asleep, almost as fast as his head hit the pillow.
Cliff cleaned up a few things around the house before he left. Set a few dishes to soak in the sink, watered the only plant Rick had by the back door, and grabbed the bag out of the trash can, replacing it with a fresh one. Quietly, he slipped into Rick’s bathroom and returned with a large glass of water and two tablets of aspirin. He set them down on the nightstand where he knew Rick would see them. He would need it in the morning if he was gonna make his call time.
As he turned to leave, Cliff thought he heard, in a very sleepy whisper, “I love you.”
It stopped Cliff dead in his tracks, and he turned around to see Rick, completely asleep in his bed. He had to have imagined it. He knew Rick probably didn’t think of him like that, but still, quietly, he whispered it back, just in case.