Manhattan Is My Beat

"Beta only, I'll bet." Frankie sneered.

"No, they've got VHS. And he leaves and I think that's the last I'll see of him. But the next day he's back when the store opens and he says he found a player. And he joins and rents this movie he's so interested in. Turns out he's a real sweetheart, we bullshit some, talk movies…"

"Yeah, your date," Frankie observed. "I remember him."

"And he's not flirting or anything. He's just talking. Takes the film home. Eddie picks it up the next day. Okay, couple days later, he calls a delivery in. Rents something I don't know what it is and what else? Manhattan Is My Beat again. This goes on for weeks."

Frankie nodded, his shaggy hair bobbing.

"Christ," Rune told him, "I feel so sorry for the guy- I picture him spending all his Social Security check on this stupid movie. I told him just to buy it. But you know Tony. How he marks up? He was charging almost two hundred. What a rip-off. So I tell Mr. Kelly I'm going to copy it for him."

"Man, Tony'd be super pissed, he finds out," Frankie said, lowering his voice as if the store were bugged.

"Yeah, whatever," Rune said. She pictured Mr. Kelly again. "You should've seen his eyes. I thought he was going to cry, he was so happy. Anyway, it was, like, noon or something and he asked if he could take me to lunch, you know, to thank me."

"So did you make the dupe for him?"

Rune's face fell. After a moment she said, "I did, yeah. But it was just a couple days ago. I never got the chance to give it to him. I wish I had. I wish he'd seen it once at least-the tape I'd made, I mean. He said he didn't have anything much to give me now but when he got rich, he'd remember me."

"Yeah, right, I've heard that before."

"I don't know. He said it in a fu

"Uhm… I don't know. You mean, like, Jack and the cornstalk?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking about this one from Japan. About the fisherman Urashima."

"Like, who?" Frankie Greek's eyes were close together too. Like the detective in Mr. Kelly's apartment. Manelli.

"Urashima saved a turtle from some children who were stoning it. He helped it back to the ocean. Only it turned out to be a magic turtle and took him to the sea lord's palace under the ocean."

"How could he breathe underwater?"

"He just could."

"But-"

"Don't worry about it. He could breathe, okay? Anyway, the lord's daughter gave him money and pearls and jewels. Maybe everlasting youth too, I don't remember."

"Man, not too shabby," Frankie said. "Happily ever after."

Rune didn't say anything for a moment. "Not exactly. He blew it."

"What happened?" Frankie seemed marginally interested.

"One of the things the daughter gave him was a box he wasn't supposed to open."

"Why not?"

"Doesn't matter. But he did open it and, bang, got turned into an old man in about five seconds flat. See, fairy tales have rules too. You have to play by them. He didn't. You've gotta listen to magic turtles and wizards. So, that's what I was thinking of when Mr. Kelly said something about getting rich. That I did a good deed and he was going to give me a reward."

Frankie added, "Just don't open any magic boxes."

Rune looked up. "So, that's my story about Mr. Kelly. Is it totally bizarre, or what?"

"You ever ask him about it, why he rented it so often?"

"Sure. And you want to hear a sad answer? He said, That movie? It's the high-point of my life.' He wouldn't say anything else. I'll bet his wife and him saw it on their honeymoon. Or maybe he had a wild affair with some vampy woman the night it was released and they were in a hotel in Times Square with the premiere right outside their window."

"Like, what'd the cops say about him getting whacked? They have any idea why?"

"They don't know anything. They don't care."

Frankie flicked through the pages in a rock music magazine, undid one of his earrings, looked at it, put it into a third hole in his other ear. He said, "So, you've seen it, you think it's worth being the high-point of someone's life?"

"Depends on how low your life has been."

"Like, what's it about?" the young man asked. "This movie?"

"There's a bank robbery in the 1930s or '40s, okay? Somewhere down in Wall Street. The robbers're holed up with a hostage in the bank and this young cop-you know, in love with the girl next door's name is Mary, that kind of hero-goes into the bank to exchange himself for the hostage. Then he kills the robber… And then what happens is the cop can't resist. See, he's in love and he wants to get married but he doesn't have enough money. So he takes the loot and sneaks it out of the bank. Then he buries it someplace. The cops find out about it and throw him off the force and arrest him and he goes to jail."

"That's all?"

"I think he gets out of jail and gets killed before he digs up the money, only I got bored and didn't pay a lot of attention."

Frankie said, "Hey, here it is. Listen." He read from the video distributor catalogue. " 'Manhattan Is My Beat. Nineteen forty-seven.' Oh, this is so bogus. Listen. 'A gripping drama of a young, idealistic policeman in New York City, torn between duty and greed.' "

Rune glanced at the clock. Quitting time. She locked the door. "All I know is, if I ever made a movie, I'd shoot anyone who called it a 'gripping drama.' "

Frankie said, "If I ever make a movie anybody can call it anything they want, as long as I, like, get to play on the sound track. Hey, it says here it's based on a true story. About a real bank robbery in Manhattan. Somebody got away with a million dollars. It says it was never recovered."

Really? Rune hadn't known that.

"It's late," she told Frankie. "Let's get out of here. I need to-"

A loud knock on the glass door startled them. A threesome stood outside-a man and woman, arm in arm, and another woman. In their twenties. The couple was in black. Jeans, T-shirts. She was taller than he was, with very short yellow-white hair and pale, caked makeup. Dark purple lips. The man wore high black boots. He was thin. He had a long face, handsome and angular. High cheekbones. They both had yellow Sony Walkman wires and earphones around their necks. Her cord disappeared into his pocket. The look was Downtown Chic and they displayed it like war paint.

The other woman was chubby, had spiky orange hair and she moved her head rhythmically- apparently to music that only she could hear (she didn't wear a Walkman headset). The cut and color of her hair reminded Rune of Woody Woodpecker's.

Another knock.

Frankie looked at the clock. "What do I say?"

"One word," Rune said. "The opposite of Open."

But then the young man in black touched the door like a curious alien and gave Rune a smile that said, How can you do this to us? He lifted his hands, pressed them together, praying, begging, then kissed his fingertips and looked directly into Rune's eyes.

Frankie called, "Like, we're closed."

Rune said, "Open it."

"What?"

"Open the door."

"But you said-"

"Open the door."

Frankie did.

The man outside said, "Just one tape, fair lady, just one. And then we'll depart from your life forever…"

"Except to return it," Rune said.

"There's that, sure," he said. Walking into the store. "But tonight, we need some amusement. Oh, sorely."

Rune said to the blond woman, "When do you have to have him back to Bellevue?"

The woman shrugged.

The Woodpecker said nothing but walked through the racks of movies, studying them while her head rocked back and forth.

"Are you members?" Rune asked.

The blonde flashed a WSV card.

"Three minutes," Rune said. "You've got three minutes."