Night Train

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Saturday, November 21, 2009

Night Train 8

Jimmy D was another one like Dionisio who bought into the Carlito dream, the Goodfellas dream. That’s why he called himself Jimmy D instead of Jimmy D’Angelo. But I didn’t have to worry about Jimmy D knocking over a liquor store. He never would have done something like that. Jimmy D was an ineffectual dreamer, like me. Here we are standing on Broadway, in front of the Million Dollar Theater, Jimmy D in his buckskin jacket with the flowing fringe and a turquoise string tie, his ten-gallon hat,... Sign in to see full entry.

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Friday, November 20, 2009

Night Train 7

“Something’s rotten in Denmark,” Big Bluto announced at the company meeting today. At first I thought he was talking about the ten cases of Dr. Sharpe’s Shakti Tonic the Colombian guys boosted, but it turned out he was talking about a rat—the four-legged kind. Big Bluto put out rat traps in all the corners and under the counters in the lunchroom, and now it appears that a rat got caught in one of the traps and dragged the trap through a hole in the wall, and he’s rotting there, that fat rat,... Sign in to see full entry.

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Thursday, November 19, 2009

Night Train 6

Friday, that’s payday. We decide to go to the Venus Bar to see a chick Dionisio’s sweet on, Tina from Nicaragua. Dionisio’s been having stomach trouble so first we go to Grand Central Market, the China Cafe, for menudo, and then we tip a few. Dionisio goes to the toilet and when he comes back his face is pale and he’s clutching his stomach. It’s probably salmonella. Or it could be E. coli. Or the wormwood dust, who knows. “Maybe we shouldn’t go to the bar.” “No, fuck it. I want you to meet... Sign in to see full entry.

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Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Night Train 5

I’m living now with Ponlok. We have a trailer in the woods that we share with four other guys, Cambodians, plus Khamtai from Laos and Dionisio from Mexico City. Ponlok’s overjoyed because he only has eight roommates. In Cambodia he had 26. California is a paradise for Ponlok, for three reasons. He has a place to sleep, he gets something to eat, and nobody’s shooting at him. It was Dionisio who introduced us to the Birrieria, me and Mungy Nuncie. The Birrieria was a homey little place next to the... Sign in to see full entry.

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Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Night Train 4

This morning Big Bluto announced that we have to recall 4,000 bottles of Clove Capsules. E. coli. Or maybe he said salmonella. As if we gave a rat’s ass. But I had to laugh. Big Bluto was squirming. He’ll push us harder now, pay us less. The dish soap in the lunchroom is half water. I noticed that today when I went to wash my hands. That’s how cheap he is, Big Bluto. He fills the dish soap bottle up with water when it gets half empty. We get fifteen minutes for lunch. When the buzzer sounds—... Sign in to see full entry.

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Monday, November 16, 2009

Night Train 3

Chinatown… Chinatown reminds me of Ashlee because Phillipe’s, on the edge of Chinatown, was our favorite restaurant, Ashlee’s and mine. I’ve been thinking about Ashlee all day, so maybe I spoke too soon, I mean the stuff I just said about Jack. But it’s a different thing with me. I don’t go around mooning over Ashlee the way Jack does with Francine. Well anyway… I met Ashlee at the Dreamland Dance Club, Eighth and Spring, fourth floor. It’s one of those places where you pay by the minute. This... Sign in to see full entry.

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Sunday, November 15, 2009

Night Train 2

And now here we were at Grand Central Market, Jack and I. We were hungry and we were dead broke, but the coffee was good, the waitress was pretty, and it was a brand new day. “I didn’t care much for the movie,” Jack said. “ Night of the Living Dead? Naw, it was pretty cheesy.” Grand Central Market. What a place. Nothing like it anywhere in the world. Strangled sea creatures lolling on beds of crushed ice, goggling like embryos torn from the womb. Glistening loaves of bread, steaming kettles of... Sign in to see full entry.

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Night Train 1

Donald O’Donovan Night Train I was doing my laundry in the men’s room of the all-night movie and who do I run into but Jack. Little Jack, Jack with the red hat. Tony’s Jack. It was Friday or Saturday, last week. I’m wringing out my socks in the sink and in he walks. Jack was thrashed. His clothes were ragged and dirty and his red hat was full of stickers. He’d been sleeping out with the coyotes. And no Tony. I put my things in a plastic garbage bag and we went back out, sat down and shared a bag... Sign in to see full entry.

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About this Blog

NIGHT TRAIN by Donald O'Donovan - Homeless Novel, 90,000 words, unpublished *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***Jerzy Mulvaney starts out living under a bridge and winds up flying first class to Paris. Homeless in the streets of LA, he manages to elude the jaws of the city by doing some freelance plumbing, posing as a psychiatrist, making donuts, doing a stint as an undertaker, busting suds at Mike’s Diner, and finally by serving a hitch as Frankenstein in a carnival joint called the Monster Mansion. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** "I’d rather live in the open and hunt rabbits with a stick than become a responsible citizen." *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** " "The street leaves its mark on you. No matter how you doll me up I still have the unmistakable look of a sparrow pecking at breadcrumbs in the gutter." *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

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