" ELMER' S WILL " JULY 2016 " MARTINE'S CROSS " AUG 2016 " ERNIE'S POLICY " SEPT 2016
Mr. TRILIEGI is A Journalist with an ASSOCIATE Arts Degree from EL CAMINO College in Los Angeles. His first Screenplay was a Finalist for The SUNDANCE Institutes WRITERS WORKSHOP co-written by his Brother. Mr. Triliegi's early poems were published in The TSUNAMI Quarterly in The Mid 1980s. His First Novel, "THEY CALL IT THE CITY OF ANGELS," Delves Into The Historic Los Angeles Riots and was published On - Line, A Chapter a Day, every Summer for Three years in a row, Consisting of 55 Chapters, Three Seasons and a readership that grew from hundreds, to thousands, to tens of 1000s. At The Peak of BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE On Line media frenzy, 12 sites, in over a half a dozen American cities including: Los Angeles, New York City, San Francisco, Seattle, The Mid- West Area and The South, Read The Novel, it was translated via Social Media sites in a wide variety of countries with a steady readership from all around the world, Mr. Triliegi is The Main Writer at BUREAU of ARTS and Culture Magazine. During The Election Season of 2016 Mr. Triliegi covered World Events and News that brought in a New Readerships that included : American Congresspersons, Senators, Presidential Hopefuls and World leaders as well as the owners and writers at TV, Cable and Indie News Outlets throughout the world. He Currently Lives in Los Angeles, California, travels by public transportation, and is now working on a Series of New Paintings, Several Short Stories and a Novel. Mr. Joshua A. Triliegi is that rare writer in America and The World,, who, so far, has been able to retain the rights to his work and own his own copyrights, short stories, novels and cultural articles. Mr. Triliegi has gone toe to toe with a series of powerful individuals, corporations and large publishing entities, as a staunch individualist at a time when even the most successful Authors find refuge in Universities and Large Publishing Houses or Newspaper and or Media Organizations that can ably back up and employ writers, reporters and authors whose work tends to provoke thought, incite defiance and inspire the underdog. Bureau of Arts and Culture Magazine brought Mr. Triliegi a broad readership that includes Millions of Readers on Dozens of BUREAU Sites in Countries All Around The World. Tap The Link below Receive a FREE Downolad of The Complete Novel and Fiction Series, "THEY CALL IT THE CITY OF ANGELS,"
by Joshua Triliegi as Originally appeared In BUREAU of Arts and Culture Magazine and its affiliated sites on - line. Scroll This Page for excerpted Chapters, Bureau Magazine Articles and Essays and Visit Links and Pages above for Audio Archives + More.
THEY CALL IT The CITY of ANGELS
"STROKE" : Excerpted Fiction from The NOVEL
Place: Los Angeles Time : The 1990s Event : The L A Riots
By Joshua A. TRILIEGI
Stan got a call that surprised him. From what he knew of protocol regarding this type of thing, there were three ways it could go, one: You were told that a call was coming in at such and such a time, two: You were told, who was on the line and then you spoke or three: You simply answered the telephone and someone said, "Hello, Stan, this is the President of the United States, Ya got a minute ?" If it had been one, he could prepare, if it had been two, he at least had an idea, but since it had been three, he simply said, "Yes, Mister President, what can I do for you?" "Well Stan, it's not what you can do for me, It's what you can do for your country. Wait a minute, that sounds like I'm paraphrasing Kennedy." Stan laughed, he figured, if the President of the United States could tell a joke under theses conditions than Stan could laugh at it. "Listen, Stan, this whole decision has blown up in our faces. I've been on the phone with the Governor and we're about to send in the troops and the national guard. Would you do me a favor and just tell me what the hell happened out there ?" Stan paused, he didn't know where to start. "Sir, Mr President, as the presiding judge, I was just as surprised as the public at this decision." The phone was quiet, then the President continued, "Well listen, were going to have to do this all over again and I just want your opinion, just your personal opinion: what are the chances of getting a conviction in a second trial, if the facts are presented with a jury that reflects the populist of the city and state you serve ?" Stan thought a second and responded, "Well, Sir, Mister President, I think several of the officers could be found to have abused their power and I believe convictions could be had." "Fine, now, off the record, I want you to have a casual meeting with a group of guys including the governor next week, just a simple golf game, nothing official. These men are going to be discussing plans and I want you to add any information that you can in a totally unofficial capacity, do you understand ?" Stan answered in the affirmative, "Yes, I do Mister President." "OK. Fine, I know were not on the same side of the aisle, and looking at the Presidential log, it appears that you have not been to The White House since you were a young boy during Kennedy's Presidency, is that correct ?" "Why, yes it is, Mister President.", "Well listen, the next time you are in town, you drop by and see us." Stan was surprised, "Thank You Mister President." Then the president added one last detail, "You are going to have to drive up to Sacramento or thereabouts for this golf course. How is your game ?" Stan replied, "Terrible Sir, to be honest.", then the President replied, "Well good, that'll work out fine for those boys perfectly. Stay in touch now." The line clicked just before Stan said, "Thank you Mister President" and then he hung up the phone.
" Hello, Stan, This is the President of
The United States, Ya got a minute ? "
When Dora got home Stan said, "Your never going to believe who called today." When he told her who, she said, "Did you ask him about raising the minimum wage or the imbalanced levels of unemployment among people of color or how could he send people into war without proper protection ?" Stan just looked at Dora and walked out of the room, at times like this, there was no use talking about it. "Wheres Cliff ?", he shouted from the hall. "He's out back.", she shouted back. Then he replied, "Listen, I have to drive up to Sacramento next week to meet the Governor about this second trial," That peeked her interest, "What second trial ?" He walked back toward Dora in the kitchen, "There is going to be, and all of this is unofficial, there is going to be another trial, the President wants this cleared up for the public's sake." "Oh what a load of crap." Dora exclaimed, "The entire inner city is burned to the f*cking ground, race relations have been set back decades and now there's going to be another trial ? Amazing." Stan then asked her matter of fact, "Look, I'm taking Cliff with me next week, is that o.k.? Dora stopped what she was doing and turned to him, "What do you mean, I thought you had to work ?" Stan looked down avoiding Dora's eye sight, "No. It's a casual golf game and they want me to fill in facts." Now she was visibly upset, "You mean to say that you are going to golf with the Governor and his cronies to fill in the facts so that a bunch of wankers can find out how to do a job that was yours to begin with ?" Stan replied, "That's not really fair of you to put it that way, but yes, thats exactly what I will be doing." She slammed the cupboard, " Good, and while you have that bastards attention, you tell him that the farmers in this state need support from his establishment or their not going to survive the year. Also, you tell him that if teachers don't get a raise, education in this state is going to be a joke and public schools will close." Stan had to laugh, "I don't think it's going to be that kind of meeting." She peeked from out of the fridge, "Oh yeah? Well, you make it, that kind of meeting.", and she punched him in the chest with her little fist. Stan grabbed her and gave her a hug, "Get away from me," she half joked and went back to preparing the meal, "You know Stan, when you're not on the bench, you are allowed to speak your mind. You vote, you're an American, tell them how you feel." Stan replied, "I feel like the system we work in is broken, that's how I feel." Then she set the table and said rather sternly, "Than it's our job to fix it. Now sit down and lets have some dinner." Stan sat down and Dora tousled his hair. "Thats what I get for getting involved with a girl like you." They both turned and saw Cliff smiling at them, he had a blissful look on his face. It was seldom that he saw his parents playing and to him, it was a beautiful thing. He walked up to Dora and pantomimed that he wanted his hair tousled too. Dora gladly obliged the boy and the family sat down to Dinner.
"Your never going to
believe who called today."
After dinner, Stan walked into Cliffs room and studied the big painting on the wall. He couldn't make sense of the fact that Cliff drew things that later, actually seemed to occur, in a way that was exacting. The painting of the city on fire was crudely executed, in terms of style or technique, but the exact details were rather amazing. That night, Stan brought it up to Dora, "How do you think he does it ?" he continued, "How does Cliff create images that seem to correlate with a future reality ?" Dora was quiet, then she said smartly, "Oh does he ? How interesting, I guess every parent likes to think that their kid has something special to offer the world." Stan carried on, "Oh come on, you're the one that wanted to send him to some shaman interview." Dora sat straight up, "That's not true, I simply suggested …", Stan interrupted her, "You said that if he had a special talent than maybe we should share it with the world." Dora sat quiet and Stan just looked at her. "So where are you going with this ?", she finally asked and after a minute of silence, he retorted, "I am just wondering why or how something like that occurs ?" Now Dora was frustrated and she raised her voice, "I don't have any idea and half of the people we know or work with would think we were both insane for even pondering the issue. Why don't you ask the President ?" Stan laughed and asked, "What about the other half ?", Dora replied, "What other half ?" He continued, "You said half the people we know would think we were both insane, what about the other half ?" That night, Stan brought it up to Dora, "How do you think he does it ?" he continued, "How does Cliff create images that seem to correlate with a future reality ?" She thought about it, "Well, if presented with the facts including images, dates and correlating events, it is possible that a jury would find that the boy was not only funny, sensitive and gentle, like his father, but he was also cute, attractive, daring and adventurous like his mother. And if pressed further, they may even decide that the boy was not just one of the best fancy dancers in the indian nations, as we recently discovered, but that the boy could actually draw the future." She looked at Stan and gave him a kiss, he kissed her back. After a moment, Dora asked, "So, what exactly do you propose we do about this ?" Stan thought about it, "Well, we could get all the artwork together and put the dates that he created them, with titles that suggested the locations or subjects and show them publicly, let people see for themselves if anything is there, meanwhile, maybe it would be nice for Cliff to share his work with a larger audience." Dora thought about it and asked,"You mean at like an arts center or a school ?" And Stan said, "No, at a real professional art gallery. We could find one that deals with the spiritual or other worldly aspects of art. I know it sounds weird, but, what if he ended up working to solve cases someday ? What if he could help someone ?" They looked at one another and a tear ran down Dora's face. Cliff walked into the room, saw his mothers face and tilted his head, his brow furrowed, Dora held her arms open and Cliff flew into them."We love you so much little man." Then Cliff replied in his raspy little tone,"I love you, too".
"How does Cliff create images that
seem to correlate with a future reality ?"
Stan and Cliff drove up to the private members only Country Club and gave their names at the gate. Forty years earlier and they would have been excluded because of giving that name. They entered into the lot and Cliff pointed up to a small helicopter that was landing on a private pad across the hillside, "That's the man we are going to be playing against.", Stan said. Cliff's eye's widened a bit. "Ok, So here the deal", Stan explained, "This is a game where you take a bunch of clubs, sort of like big sticks and you hit a small ball with the stick in an attempt to sink the ball into the hole. Everyone gets a turn and then we go onto the next hole, understand ?" Cliff nodded yes. "Good, now this is your first time, so you are going to be my partner on this understand ?" Cliff nodded in the affirmative. You are going to push my sticks in a little basket with wheels on it right behind me. Whenever I need a stick, I am going to hold out a certain number of fingers and you are going to count how many, then grab the stick with that number in the basket. Understand ?" Cliff looked worried, but was able to spit out a "Yes". Then Stan added, "I know your going to do fine, we're going to do fine.", and they walked up into the clubhouse. Stan picked out a basket of clubs and walked into the foyer. Cliff watched Stan shake hands with a group of men who smelled like a forest in a cartoon and after the men drank their glasses empty, the game began. While walking up to the first hole, Stan took Cliff aside and said, "Think about your drawings, maybe something interesting will come to you.", Cliff peered up at Stan with a puzzled look, the boy was already concerned with having to count fingers and find the right stick and now Stan was asking him to think about his drawings too. Then Stan clarified, "What I mean to say is that, if you get any ideas for drawings about these guys, remind me later," now Cliff was really confused. On the first hole Stan held out his fingers, Cliff counted them and looked for the stick with that number, Stan pointed to the number and after that Cliff was fine. This went on for quite some time. The men discussed the case, the riots, the cops, the public, the jury, the president and the election coming up in the fall. Stan added a few comments here and there. Cliff was so busy counting fingers and finding the proper stick that the afternoon passed quickly. It was hot and several of the men smoked cigars and drank from shiny little metal containers. On the last hole, Stan swung too far and his ball ended up in a pile of trees to the left of the green. He and Cliff climbed up over a sand trap and down into a flat area that sat between a bunch of trees, Cliff looked at Stan whose face was all red and became worried. Stan found the ball, when he reached down to put the T in the ground, he fell to the floor. Cliff ran out on the green, but the other men were talking and didn't look over, he tried to scream, but nothing came out, he ran back over and turned Stan on his back, he slapped his face lightly, but Stan did not move. The boy was beginning to panic, he got frustrated with himself and didn't know what to do. Just then, a piercing beam of light shot down from between the trees and landed on his dad's left hand, Cliff stared at the hand that now sat in a circle of light. When he followed the beam of light upward, a giant bird sat on a branch and it screeched so loudly that Cliff had to cover his ears. He then reached down, grabbed his fathers left hand and bit the tip of his pinky so hard that the man sat up straight and said, "What happened ?" Cliff had tears running down his face, he couldn't express himself. Stan stood up and brushed off his pants, he saw the boy and assured him that everything was o.k., "Take it easy son, I must have fainted." He placed the T, hit the ball and landed it directly on the green. "See that, I told you everything was going to be all right." Cliff looked up and the bird was gone.
"That's the man we are going to be playing against," Stan said. Cliff's eye's widened a bit.
They walked up to the green and everyone was talking about Stan's save. After the game ended, they thanked Stan and congratulated each other on a great afternoon. The Governor held out his hand to Stan and he suddenly decided to speak his mind. "Governor…", he said, all the other men were now listening, "I came here today because the President asked me to and I hope my presence has been useful. But goddamn it, don't the kids in this state deserve to have teachers that can afford proper housing? And what about the farmers in the central valley, don't they deserve subsidies while the economy flattens as it has ? This case I presided over is not just about justice, it's not just about an abuse of power, it's not just about a bunch of cops who almost beat a man to death. The people reacted to a much larger problem and that problem is poverty, that problem is hunger, that problem is education, that problem is institutionalized racism, that problem is property taxes, that problem is inner city schools, that problem is the cost of living, that problem is public transportation, that problem is unemployment and the minimum wage. Now, I apologize for speaking out of turn here, especially in front of your advisors, but my wife and I have been through hell and high water because of this case and I couldn't sleep at night if I just sat by and said nothing about it. I know we are on the other side of the aisle, but we must get some progress done to create peace in this state and a conviction is only going to be the beginning." The Governor and his men just looked at Stan, everyone was completely quiet, "My god son, we should run you for office," he joked, and all the men began to laugh out loud. "I think we can use some of that in your speech next week Governor," one of the men said. Stan continued, "You use whatever you like, I am just a simple Judge, but my wife walks among the people and those are her sentiments exactly." The Governor then remarked, "Oh, yes, you married Dora Wendell didn't you ? Quite a spitfire that girl…" he continued "Well, you tell her that the message was delivered and received." Then the Governor added, "That was quite a stroke." Stan heard the word 'stroke' echo in his head, he peered right through the man and realized what had occurred. Stan looked back toward the trees one more time, grabbed his son's hand and walked away. He had survived a stroke.