Friday, September 13, 2013


They Call it The City of Angels

A New Serial Novel by Joshua A. TRILIEGI

Exclusively for Readers of BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE and
our Three sites in Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York City
All National & International Copy Rights Reserved to the Author
Translate into language needed at our three blog spots links below.

Chapter Sixteen: Home

God had a lot of different definitions to a lot of
different people. Junior wasn't exactly sure if he
totally understood the concept of what god was.
He had seen how people who believed in god had
sometimes transformed themselves. He had been
accepted by a group of firm believers and felt a
certain amount of gratitude for being accepted.
Deep down inside, he still had some real doubts.
For the past two weeks, he had settled into his
new home, had been given a key, so he could
come and go as he pleased, but had no idea of
the kind of culture shock that pervaded his
every thought. That many years away, locked
up, had taken away his identity as a person.
He had become a unit within a machine and
was now searching for who he actually was.
Louis Senior had brought out boxes of old
family photographs that junior sifted through.
He rebuilt his existence by putting together a
sort of road map of his life before the accident.
He had taken a series of odd jobs, but none of
them seemed to fit. The priest had introduced
him to a social worker who gave him a bunch
of temporary job options, a program wherein
you could work for three days at various jobs
to see if you had the skills. He had tried his hand
at cleaning windows on skyscrapers downtown
with a crew of guys, but the height prove too
much for him. He spent a few days cleaning out
the public bathrooms all along the harbor, grunt
work that only reminded him of prison. He had
gutted fish in one of the last canneries that still
existed in the harbor, came home smelling of guts.
None of it meant anything to him, but he was thankful
for the opportunities and had, on several occasions
spent time in the church to show his gratitude.
The priest explained that, on some days, even he
had questions about faith that could not always
be answered directly. He would tell Junior that,
"It's an ongoing relationship, have patience my son."

Junior had seen a lot of different types of faiths,
while in the joint. There were all types of believers,
he was very interested in the native american dudes
who believed in the animals, let their hair grow long
and had ceremonies that allowed them to practice
their own belief system, they fasted, held prayer circles
and chanted during certain moon and sun phases. He
had also respected and became friends with a group
of Buddhists who shaved their heads, meditated and
had found a way to tolerate just about any type of abuse
that the system or other inmates could dish out. There
were plenty of Muslim's who had strict rules on what
to eat, when and how to bathe, what direction to pray.
Of course, he had plenty of friends who were down with
the Jesus thing and having been raised in that faith
himself, naturally gravitated toward it. Most of the
people in that circle believed that Jesus was the only
way, but somewhere in Juniors mind, he had built a
map that had more than one way to get home and he
quietly tolerated those who felt differently about it.
He had a common sense about him that allowed for
there to be a, 'constant maybe', to just about anything.
There were no guarantees in this world, that was clear.
One of the big boys had given him an address, that if,
in case of emergency, he could go to, for work. He had
done enough favors, cooperated enough with heavies
to gain their trust and respect. He had the address
memorized. It was the kind of work that no one actually
talks about, no applications to fill out, no supervisor
to report to, no waiting two weeks for your first check.
You were paid in advance and you did the job quickly.
It was the last thing he wanted to do. Since finding
out that his brother - in - law was a cop, he became
cautious about anything he said or did at all times.
He still hadn't put it together that Chuck was the cop
who had testified against him. Back then Chuck was
clean shaven, with a full set of hair, no glasses. Now,
Chuck was balding grey, with a mustache and specs.
Junior had come to admire what his sister had done,
built a family, bought a home, taken in their father
after his mother had passed away. His little nieces
were funny, sarcastic, nerdy, the way that kids can
sometimes be, they said stuff that had more truth
to it than some of the adults. He respected people
who told the truth more than those that put up a
front. Chuck and Celia had done something with
their lives, they had created a family. Junior was
almost positive that he would never do such a thing.

One day, while Chuck was at work, Celia and Junior
were having lunch in the main house, she ran out
front to catch the delivery driver who was just down
the street. Junior had walked down the hall towards
the bathroom and accidentally opened the door to
Chucks office which was normally locked. He entered
the room to find himself surrounded by a litany of facts
and graphs regarding the things going on the city.
Recent arrests, murders, rapes, drug busts and the
recent palm tree burnings that had pervaded L.A. with
news clippings, photographs and police reports. When
he looked at the top of Chucks desk he read a tear
sheet that had been faded and worn. It was a headline
that read, 'Local Teen Tried as Adult for Manslaughter'.
He had never even seen the paper the day he was
convicted, but there it was in plain sight. He looked
closer and studied the photographs, one of him, the
day of his arrest, one of the vehicle, a picture of
both Josie and Ryan from the high school yearbook
and a picture of a young Officer Chuck. 'MotherF*#@'.
He looked out the window which faced the guest house
and saw a cord that ran from the guest house roof
over to Chucks window and into a phone jack unit
that looked freshly installed, pieces of paint had been
scraped away, exposing wood slivers around the jack.
He closed the door and rushed to the dinner table
before Celia came back in with a big box containing
some dresses she had ordered for one of the girls
upcoming birthday party. He smiled and said he
had some work to do down at the church. It wasn't
a total lie, he had promised the father that he would
stop by and mow the lawn sometime in the next few
days. But instead, he got on a bus and headed for the
address he had been given. He was scared for the
first time since leaving prison and it wasn't the fear
of god.

Junior remembered a story he had been told long ago.
It was about the town where his people had come from.
Back when his grandfather had been a small child, there
had been a sort of Robin Hood, who was an outlaw, but
had protected his townspeople, had gotten rid of a local
merchant who had been abusing his power. When the
authorities came to arrest him, the people of the town
got together and decided to do what they could to assist.
From his window in the local jail, they would put on a
sort of show, 'Teatro de la Calle'. By wearing certain
costumes, affecting certain body types, they were able
to send him messages about what was really going on.
It didn't take him very long to learn how many days he
had left and where and how his fate was to be sealed.
It was an amazing effort how the citizens were able to
communicate in this way and he felt honored. He did
escape, but was eventually killed in cold blood. Since
that time, the system that had been created was still
in existence. Whenever there had been an injustice by
the authorities, the people had gathered to help inform,
in one way or another the Robin Hood's of the region.
Word got out and this way of communicating became
well known. It was exported and utilized throughout
the regions where oppressed peoples had little power.
Junior began to relate to that story and decided that
he had to tap into that same type of tradition. How
could they have not told him? His own father ? His
own Sister ? He felt betrayed and indeed, he had been.
He walked up to the house, checked the address again,
rang the bell, the door opened, he walked inside, the
door closed. 'Welcome back', a voice softly said. He
was finally home.


LA :
Exclusively for Readers of BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE and
our Three sites in Los Angeles, San Francisco and New York City

Editor and Publisher of BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE

Announces a New Experimental Serial Novel about Los Angeles.
Mr Triliegi will write a chapter a day for the next few weeks and
post the results in various languages at the three blog spots that
regularly showcase Art, Theater, Music and Community events.

" I thought it would be a good writing exercise to simply write
about what I see and hear everyday on the streets of the city.
To simply create a chapter a day based on the people and things
going on in Los Angeles. Since we all come from so many back-
grounds, styles, cultures and languages, I decided to structure
the multi character novel to represent all of Los Angeles. I simply
write a chapter a day by allowing the characters to unfold & the
story to reveal itself based directly on the things I see and hear."

" Its pure fiction based on generalities. For instance, Chapter Three,
which was inspired by a girl I saw on the bus earlier in the day, she
had a sketch book with some nice artworks and I thought about her."
Or Chapter One, based on a conversation I had with a guy who was
entering back into society from a long stretch in the penitentiary.
I thought about what other people in his life may have been thinking."

" Its a challenge to simply introduce a character and follow the
line as it flows into something structured and complete. I usually know
the beginning and the end of each Chapter, and simply let the middle
fill itself out. I like the daily discipline as well as the audience
in on the process. In this particular case, I don't really take notes.
I just start with an idea and let it flow. This is not a normal novel by
any means, but it is a new and interesting challenge for both the
writer and the readers. Were publishing it in three cities and a wide
variety of languages, English, Italian, French, Chinese, Armenian,
Chinese, Hebrew, Japanese & Korean so far. Its been a lot of fun
I hope the people of Los Angeles and the world will follow it out as
it reveals itself. As the writer, in this particular case, I am just as
curious as the reader as to what will happen and how things will go.
The cool thing about this project is how quickly the characters began
to take on a life of their own. "

" Its an interesting way to work. I am putting together several other
writing projects and decided that this would be a good warmer upper.
We get anywhere from a 50 to 400+ views a day on our website for
our Articles, Reviews and especially our Audio Interviews, so this
particular literature project should be good exercise and at the same
time, allow people to see how a novel is actually created day by day."