9:41 (21 page)

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Authors: John Nicholas; Iannuzzi

BOOK: 9:41
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“Sure is Charlie”, said Roger paying more attention to the small blond girl at the end of the bar, who was demurely smiling back as Roger looked her way.

“… yeah, I'm part Spanish and part Scotch”, continued the MC, “hot and tight”.

“Hot and tight”, laughed Charlie as his elbow dug into Roger's arm … “you hear that, Rog, hot and tight?”

“Hey, Charlie, watch, you'll make me spill the drink”, admonished Roger as he was clinking his glass against the one he had just bought for the little blond from the end of the bar, who was now sitting next to him. “Charlie”, said Roger as he tapped on Charlie's shoulder, “Charlie, this is Marie”.

“Say”, said Charlie admiringly, “you're a pretty fast worker, aren't you Roger. I didn't know you still had it in you”, Charlie said starting to laugh.

“You sometimes get the best tune from an old piano”, said the blond.

Roger smiled. “See Charlie, … women know a good thing when they see it”.

Charlie turned back to the bar and ordered another drink, then he turned to Marie. “Listen, Marie, why don't you invite one of your friends over here to have a drink with me. How about that red-head”, said Charlie, glancing toward the end of the bar. “Hey, where'd the red-head go?”

“You mean Red Hot?” said Marie. “She's on now”. Marie nodded toward the tall red-haired girl who was now walking toward the stage. She disappeared behind the curtain.

“She gonna dance now?” asked Charlie.

“Yeah”, said the blond finishing her drink.

“Want another drink?”, asked Roger.

“Well, if you insist”, said the blond smiling coyly.

“Bartender, the same thing again. You're kind of nice Marie”, said Roger turning to her. “You always work here … I mean, is this your steady job?”

“For the time bein'”, said the blond as she tilted her glass to her mouth and emptied half of it. “Excuse me a minute, will ya?” she said, touching Roger's arm. “Joanie, Joanie, come here a minute, will ya?” she called toward the end of the bar.

From the corner where the girls had been sitting, came Joanie, a short, plump, in a sensual way, sandy-haired girl.

“Don't you think you should introduce your friend, Charlie, and Joanie. She looked so lonely over there, … and Charlie is all by himself, too”, said Marie to Roger as Joanie joined them.

“Charlie, this is Joannie … I'm Roger, Joannie”, Roger shook her hand. Charlie walked around Roger, put his arm around her waist and guided her to his far side. “Bartender …”

“Let's have a celebration toast”, said Marie.

“What'll we celebrate?” said Roger.

“We'll celebrate all of us being together, how's that?” Roger and Charlie liked the idea.

“Teddy”, called Marie.

The bartender came over and filled all the glasses.

“And now boys”, the MC announced as she came in front of the curtain again, “we have a real special treat for you. She needs no introduction—Red Hot!”

The curtains started to open; the brassy little band in the recessed darkness of the stage started into one of its noisy, bumpy tunes.

“This ought to be pretty good”, said Charlie, staring at the stage without turning around to Roger.

“Yeah”, said Roger, who twisted toward the stage, leaning on the bar with his elbow, his back toward Marie. Joanie and Marie watched unconcernedly as Red Hot, covered completely in a flowing black cape, strutted on stage in time to the beat. The cape, as she turned around, could be seen to go up the back of her neck, forming a little cap behind her head. Red Hot danced and cavorted around the stage, in time with the music, twirling occasionally so that her legs, right up to the skimpy g-string covering her lower torso would show beneath the lifting material. She turned, with her back to the gaping men, opened the front of the cape and twirled back again. The cape slid off her shoulders. Catching it in her hand as it fell, she now stood clad in only a red mesh bra and g-string. Red Hot turned her back again to the bulgyeyed patrons, and as she did, she hooked the black cape with its little cap on the middle of her bra so that it covered the front of her body. Red Hot began to skip around the stage, and when she reached the front, facing the hypnotized audience, that black cape didn't look like a black cape any more. It resembled the shadow of a man, clinging to her body, the cap was his head, the cape his back.

The music started again in a slow booming rhythm, and Red Hot danced with her arms around her imaginary lover, clasping him to herself. She twisted and twirled, and the cap assaulted her body with imaginary kisses. Red Hot twisted her head to escape the imaginary kisses. Slowly, as her body pulsated to the beat, the cape began slowly to slide lower on her body until the cap was lodged at a level in the hollow between her breasts. She twisted languorously, the cap now covered one of her breasts. Her lover was devouring one of her breasts; and she twisted and contorted with contrived delight. Her entire body was pulsating, but she remained in the same spot twisting away from and holding her lover at the same time. Then her dusky lover assaulted her other breast as she twisted her upper body. The cap twisted center again, and Red Hot pushed both breasts behind the cap.

“Roger, would you buy us another drink?”, said Marie from behind Roger's back.

“Hunh … oh, yeah, sure … the money is on the bar”, he motioned to the bartender, … “get them another …” said Roger, never taking his eyes off the twisting, cavorting body and her imaginary lover who, now aided by the pulsations, slid down further on Red Hot's body. Red Hot was gritting her teeth in feigned ecstasy. The cap lodged now at a spot at between her thighs. Red Hot was standing on the stage, with the little band beating a constant rhythm … boomba … boomba … boom, her arms extended above her head, her body twisting, pushing, sliding against her imaginary lover's head with each beat. She now bit one of her arms with the sheer ecstasy of her dance gyrating her torso to the brass booming of the band.

Roger and Charlie were mesmerized, motionless, staring at the stage, their drinks suspended in their hands. Joanie and Marie chatted with each other, sipping their drinks occasionally.

The brassy music stopped. Red Hot continued gyrating her hips in the middle of the stage; then she emitted a scream which shattered the stillness of the bar. She grabbed and pulled her hair in excruciating delight. Red Hot straightened up and smiled at the audience. Weak applause filtered forward.

Red Hot gripped the flimsy material of her mesh g-string and drew it aside quickly letting it snap back into place and walked off the stage.

Roger and Charlie kept staring at the stage as the curtains closed, swayed in place and were still. Charlie turned around and looked at Roger who was facing him. His eyes widened.

“Ever see that in Tylersville, Roger?” Charlie was virtually astounded.

“No, no I didn't”, Roger said slowly. “I think she's wasting time with that dummy, though”, said Roger, as he laughed leeringly. “C'mon girls have another drink”, he said finally.

Marie and Joanie perked up and slid their glasses forward for another round.

“Let's get a table”, suggested Joanie. “We could be more chummy that way”.

“Nah, … we aren't going to stay that long”, said Charlie.

“How come”, said Roger, “we're doin' alright right here”.

“Yeah, c'mon”, chimed in Marie, holding Roger's arm. “We'll have some laughs”.

“No, we can't Rog. We've got that other place to go to”, said Charlie, trying to catch Roger's eyes.

“Okay, Charlie”, Roger shrugged, “you're the boy tonight”.

“We'll have one more round”, said Charlie, “and then we'll go, okay? C'mon girls, drink up”.

Both Roger and Charlie were a little high as they hailed a cab outside the bar.

“Why couldn't we stay there?”, asked Roger, swaying in the headlights of the approaching cab.

“Because—here, let's grab this cab … I'm going to show you an even better place”, said Charlie as he jumped into the back compartment of the cab. “The Brummel Club, up on forty eight street please”, said Charlie, as Roger sat next to him. Roger slammed the door and settled back into the seat.

“We shoulda stayed there”, said Roger looking out the window on his side of the cab, “those girls were all right, … especially that little Marie”.

“Naw, they just drink your booze, … and that table action, three and a half bucks per person just to sit down. That's all they want you to do is sit at one of those crummy tables. They'll bring out all kinds of crap bubbly wine, and you pay like hell for it. You notice these dames keep drinkin' and don't get drunk? The bartender must give them watered drinks. I always figure they're making money on every drink they make you buy, and then they hustle off home, leaving you holding the bill. Besides, they work until four o'clock. What the hell are we, owls?” Charlie laughed at his own words.

“Yeah, owls”, repeated Roger laughing. “Where the hell are we going now?” Roger looked at Charlie.

“What's the difference?”, said Charlie throwing his head back. “Your wife and family aren't here to keep check on you. This is our night to howl … yaahhooo”, screamed Charlie.

“Hey, Mac, you want to keep it a little more quiet”, said the cab driver, looking at Charlie through his rear view mirror. “A cop'll stop us and give me a ticket”.

“Shhh, Charlie, you wouldn't want our chauffeur to get a ticket, would you?” asked Roger lightly.

“No, Sir, not me”, answered Charlie lurching himself upright with the aid of the strap hanging from the side of the cab, looking out the window. “This is the spot, … this is it, right here. Hold it”, Charlie said impatiently to the driver.

“Take it easy, Mac, take it easy. You'll get there”, said the driver.

Roger looked past Charlie—who was taking money out of his pocket—to the spot in front of which they had stopped. A small canopy, a door, and a small picture window to the side of the door was all he could see.

“Here you go driver. Keep it”, said Charlie, handing the driver a bill.

“What is this place?”, said Roger as he followed Charlie out of the cab. “It looks dead”.

“Don't worry about dead”, said Charlie putting his hand up to stifle all fears, “don't worry about a thing. Ol' Charlie is the Captain of this ship”, he jabbed his chest with his thumb.

“Did you say Captain of this shit?” said Roger smiling.

“Ship, … ship. You know I wouldn't say shit, you know that, Roger, old buddy”, said Charlie as he laughed.

They walked into the little bar. A girl, who was sitting at the end of the bar, disentangled a male friend's hand from her waist and came over to them.

“Hello Charlie, … how're you tonight?”, she said as she took his coat.

“Okay, Arlene”, he said looking around the room. “This is Roger. Is Mary here?”

Arlene nodded. “Yeah, she's in the back. Here's your coat check Charlie”. “Oh thanks. C'mon Roger”.

“Hold it a second”, Roger called to Charlie as he took off his coat.

Roger made his way to the back of the bar where Charlie was ordering a drink. This was a plush, subdued place, with dark walls, a bar against one wall, and a dining alcove with ten or twelve tables in the back, a piano in the middle of the alcove. An older, colored woman was playing the piano and singing some supper-club blues. Beyond the dining alcove was a stairway to a lower floor.

“Well, what's the big attraction here?” asked Roger. “There's hardly anyone here”.

“Take it easy Roger, you'll see in a minute, … two scotch and sodas”, said Charlie to the bartender.

Standing further forward at the bar were a couple of men, a girl, and at the far end, a couple of other men, and Arlene, the coat check girl. From some place behind the back wall of the bar came a heavy-set, buxom woman with black hair, clad in a low-cut dress which gave an unobstructed view of her huge bosom, thereby negating any detraction her heaviness might make. She recognized Charlie and walked toward him.

“Hello Mary, how's the girl?” said Charlie, smiling.

“Hello, Charlie. How've you been?”, she asked as she put her arms around him in a friendly embrace. “Where you been keepin' yourself?” she said still embracing him, looking into his face.

“Oh, I've been pretty busy. Roger, say hello to Mary”.

“Hello”, said Mary. “Glad to meet a friend of Charlie's anytime”, she said as smiled at Roger. “So what's cookin'?” she said to Charlie.

“That's what we came to see”, said Charlie.

“Have a drink. Buy the boys a drink on me”, she said to the bartender. “Have to make a couple of phone calls. I'll be back in a minute”. She walked to the area behind the back wall and disappeared.

“What's going on?” asked Roger.

“Shhh”, said Charlie winking at Roger. “You I'll see”.

As the two of them stood with drinks at the bar, a woman came into the bar. She was well dressed, with light hair, about thirty-five years old. She walked further into the room, looking at the people seated on the stools by the bar. The bartender behind the bar was keeping pace with her as she walked. As she approached the man sitting next to Roger, the bartender motioned to her.

“Right here”, he said.

The woman stopped and slipped in between Roger and the man on the stool next to him. “Hello”, she said to the man.

“Hello”, the man smiled widely, moving off his stool. “I've been expecting you. Sit down won't you?” He offered her his stool, and he slipped over to the next one. “What would you like to drink?”

“A scotch old fashioned”, she said as she slipped off her long black gloves, and let her coat drop onto the back rest of the stool.

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