Dance For Me (2 page)

“Babe… hello?”

“Huh?” Dominic looked away from Josephine who was leaning in toward her husband, whispering in his ear, making him smile like a kid.

“Are you going to order something?”

Dominic looked at Tristan.

“Um…” He saw the young woman standing beside him waiting on his order. “Oh, shit.”

“I’ll come back.”

Josephine smiled at Dominic.

“I’m sorry. I’ll have the um…. mm,” he quickly skimmed the menu. “Enchiladas rancheras, that looks good.” Whatever it was…

Tristan crossed her arms.

“And you Miss?”

“The shrimp cocktail and a Mi’ Chilada.”

“What kind of beer?”

 “Tecate, of course.”

“That’s it? Just shrimp?” asked Dominic.

“I’m trying to shed a few pounds, duh.” She snatched Dominic’s menu from his hand and handed it to the server with her own.

 Tristan was always going on “diets” but she always looked the same to Dominic.

 Tristan crossed her arms and whispered to Dominic, “By the way, I saw how you were looking at my step mom.”

“I wasn’t,” he insisted.

“Oh really?”

“Really what?” Dan asked.

“Nothing, Dad.” Tristan assured him.

“She thinks I’m digging your wife, Sir.”

“What?” Dan looked at Dominic.

Tristan felt her face turn shades of red.

“I didn’t say that.”

Dominic shifted in his seat and crossed his arms on the table top.

“Your wife, she’s extremely attractive. Don’t take that the wrong way. Your daughter, she’s extremely attractive as well. My question is how do you do it?”

“How do I do what?”

“How do you deal with other men looking at your woman? Doesn’t it make you want to rip their heads off?”

Dan laughed. His cheeks were always flushed and glossy like apples.

“At first it did. But I mean you know, what are you going to do? You can’t rip every guy’s head off. You can’t go off on every man who looks at your woman. Besides, let them look. As long as they’re not approaching her or being disrespectful to either of you, let the water roll off your back.”

 It wasn’t okay advice and all, but Josephine wasn’t a stripper.

“I always wondered about that, how I should handle it.”

Dominic looked at Tristan who had her eyes on something across the restaurant. He followed her gaze to some guy who was staring back at her. He noticed Dominic looking at him and looked away. A moment later the stranger caught Tristan’s eye again, not caring if she had a boyfriend or not. Dominic slid his arm around Tristan.

“Baby, not on my hair,” she said with a smile, taking his arm from around her. Dominic saw the guy get up and leave with his party, not looking at Tristan as he passed. That was good because Dominic was ready to pound him. Josephine changed the subject and as the three of them conversed, Dominic’s attention flowed from Josephine’s thick and sexy accent to the architecture of the restaurant. He was looking at the arches above all the doorways, the biggest arch above the entrance. His gaze wandered from the wooden ceiling fans to the casino floor, right in front of Lounge 101. There was a long bar with chrome poles and girls half naked dancing on or around each of them, men gambling or drinking or watching the girls dance. 

Dominic squinted and leaned forward to get a better look at one girl at the very far left on the last pole at the bar. Was it her? Could it be her? Tristan squeezed Dominic’s thigh and burst into laughter at something Josephine said. Dominic couldn’t give two shits about what they were saying but faked a laugh like he even knew what they were talking about. He was still focused on the girl on the fourth pole. No way. It couldn’t be. He continued to squint until his vision sharpened. It was hard to tell from this angle because some of her hair covered her face. But it was the same natural black color and length. Dominic realized the girl he was looking at with black fishnet stockings and a tight green and gold corset was indeed the girl next door.

  5… Shamayla

Hope met Shamayla a few months after she was hired at Lounge 101. But she didn’t meet Shamayla at work. It happened while Hope and her then boyfriend Michael-or whatever he was- were at the MGM Grand waiting to see a show. She saw Shamayla sitting near the Lion exhibit, looking lonely and vulnerable. She was wearing a gold and red sequined mini dress with matching stilettos in her hand. She had bruises up and down her legs and her hair was everywhere.  At first glance Hope thought Shamayla was a prostitute. When Michael went to the restroom, Shamayla caught Hope’s eyes and approached her, asking about jobs.

  With Shamayla’s overall careless look and strip tease past, Hope knew she could convince her boss to give Shamayla a go. Hammer liked that Shamayla was foreign and looked “exotic” to him, with honey color skin and sunrise eyes. He had one of the dancers turn up the radio and asked Shamayla to “show us your moves”. She wasn’t that great but he figured some dance lessons would help that. Shamayla got the job.

Being Shamayla’s friend was dangerous so she had very few. She made it clear to Hope what the risks were but Hope wouldn’t be so intimidated. It wasn’t easy: Shamayla’s estranged husband had followed them to a fast food place once and started slapping up Shamayla in the parking lot, in broad freakin’ day light. No matter how hard she tried, Hope couldn’t convince Shamayla to call the cops. Shamayla feared Zefar and claimed it would only antagonize him more. 

Hope and Shamayla spent this afternoon at the mall. She and Shamayla checked out and as they were heading out of the main doors of the mall into the parking lot, they saw Zefar’s car.  The girls stopped and stared for a moment.

 “Just get in the car,” Hope said, hurrying to the isle her car was parked in. Zefar either spotted her car or had been following them. He had done it before and it was frustrating to always be looking over her shoulder, trying to spot him, to be sure they weren’t being stalked. Sometimes Hope and Shamayla got careless and didn’t even consider Zefar could be following them. But to frustrate him in return, Hope would drive to the police station which always scared off Zefar.

  Sure enough Zefar wanted to follow them. He didn’t know where Shamayla lived or worked but would do anything to find out. When he turned down the same streets Hope did, Shamayla went into a panic.

“Drive to the police station,” she said to Hope.

“And if it doesn’t work this time?”

“Do it. He’ll keep going.”

Hope nodded. 

“Oh no, oh no oh no,” Hope said, biting her lip. The light ahead flicked to red.

As cross traffic proceeded, Hope had no choice but to stop, Zefar pulling up behind her. He got off the car, right there in the middle of the busy intersection. He’d never done this before but then again, Hope hadn’t been stopped by a red light while trying to evade him. Hope locked the car doors as he approached the passenger’s side window and starting smacking it with an opened hand.

“Shamayla! Shamayla get out of the car! Shamayla get out!”

“Don’t get out,” Hope said, trying to go over his voice. She saw Shamayla’s hand on the door handle.

“Shamayla, look at me. Shamayla…” Hope stared at the red light as Zefar became more aggressive, shouting specks of spit on the window.

“Shamayla!” He punched the window startling the girls. The light finally turned green and Hope floored it. Shamayla couldn’t believe no one got off their car to help.

 “If he catches up to us-“

“We need to go to the police,” Hope said, speeding on the road. “Do you hear me? Go to the police. Get a restraining order.”

“Those never do any good,” Shamayla complained. “He’s going to kill me.”

“No he isn’t.” Hope shot her friend a look. “No he isn’t, Shamayla. Put him in jail.”

“You don’t understand. You don’t know him. I should go back.”

Hope shook her head.

“Why would you do that? So he can beat you, so he can really try to kill you?”

“I’m tired of running…”

 “Things will only get worse if you go back.”

 Shamayla closed her eyes.

 “You don’t know what’s like. It feels like everyone hates me now, ever since I left Zefar they turned their backs.”

“And you need people like that why? You have other family who are actually sane and not money hungry.”

 “I don’t know.”

 “He beats you, he made you get abortions. He cheats on you, he’s scum. You’re twenty-five Shamayla, you’re an adult. You need to start living for yourself.”

 “Next time if I see him I’ll call the police okay? I will.”

 Hope stopped in front of the police station, glanced in her rear view mirror making sure she lost Zefar. She asked if Shamayla still wanted to go to the police but Shamayla shook her head. Hope waited while and then started up her car and drove away.

 “Hey,” Shamayla said, breaking the silence. “Did you tell him?”

Hope’s grip on the steering wheel got tighter.

“Um, no. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I want to tell him tonight.”

“Before or after work?”

“I don’t know yet.

“Oh,” Shamayla said with a smile, playing with her waves. “You’re making him suffer.  I bet he’s going crazy not knowing.”

“Yeah,” Hope nodded. “I figure I’ll just make him wait a little longer. What’s the rush?”

Shamayla smiled. “You are so bad. I love it.”

Hope pulled up in front of the house Shamayla was staying at. The girls were pretty sure they lost Zefar but you could never be too sure. 

“I’ll be here at six. Be ready. And hey, if you see him again, call the police.”

“I will, I will.” Shamayla wished Hope luck and got off the car.

  ***

 Hope lit up a cigarette though she didn’t smoke and sat on the hood of her car. Shamayla sat beside her and lit up a cigarette herself.

“My legs are sore. I can’t believe what a asshole Hammer is. This double shift bullshit he’s always pulling,” Shamayla complained.

Hope pulled her hair back with a scrunchy and puffed smoke into the clearness.

“It’s more money.”

“It’s that Mercedes bitch. Her and that cunt Marisol, lazy whores. They always call off weekends and Hammer lets them get away with it. So here we are filling in for them. Fuck them.”

“It could be worse, Shamayla. I mean at least we’re not taking our clothes off.”

Hope worried about offending Shamayla, and regretted saying that. Zefar forced her to strip after they wed.

Hope looked at Shamayla. Her hair was in loose waves, almost down to her elbows. Her makeup was smudged and she resembled a hooker.

“Yes it’s true,” Shamayla admitted. “But I don’t know. Look at this shit we’re wearing.” Shamayla leaned back on the hood. “We’re barely wearing anything and we’re dancing for tips like dogs do tricks for treats. Can you honestly say you like this?”

“We’re making an honest living. No one’s taking off her clothes; no one’s blowing anyone in a bathroom stall.”

Shamayla looked down at nothing was pensive expression on her face.

 “I thought this was supposed to be easy money and a lot of it.”

“Maybe things will pick up by summer.”

Shamayla lay back with a folded arm behind her head. 

“Did you tell Michael?”

“I called him earlier.”

“What did he say?”

“What do you think he said?”

Shamayla inhaled the smoke and shrugged.

“He thanked God. He said he’d been so nauseous he couldn’t eat all this time.”

Shamayla’s mouth was open.

“What a prick.”

“Ten minutes later I got my period.” Hope sighed.  “Anyway, it’s for the best. I’ve always known he doesn’t love me and a baby wouldn’t change it.”

“All that time you were together…”

“We weren’t really together.”

“You could do better,” Shamayla said with a half-smile. “He’s not even cute.”

Hope stared into the atmosphere. The panoramic sky was deep indigo and Hope wanted to get home before the sun was up.

“Let’s go.”

Shamayla flicked her cigarette away and the girls went back to Hope’s apartment. Hope drew the navy blue curtains in the living room to shield all the light away and the girls crawled into bed while the AC hummed. They exchanged a few sentences of mindless gibberish and fell asleep in the room that mimicked nighttime, while the sun rose and lit up the whole desert with day.

 6... Zefar

“Baby, wake up!”

Tristan rocked Dominic’s body to and fro but he wouldn’t budge. She climbed out of bed and crept into the living room. She couldn’t see anything from the window but she could hear a man outside, pounding on the neighbor’s door.

 “I know you’re in there! You better open the door Jezebel!”

Tristan’s eyes widened. She ran on the tips of her toes back to Dominic’s bedroom.

 “Something serious is going on outside, get up!”

 The shriek in Tristan’s voice irked Dominic to consciousness. He was blurry eyed and it felt like someone blew sand under his eyelids. Tristan dragged him out of bed.

 “You hear that? Do you think we should call the cops?”

 With his pants in his hands, Dominic went to his front door and pressed his ear to it. It wasn’t necessary as the shouting started up again.

 “Open the door or I break it down!”

 Dominic crinkled his brows. Tristan, standing a few feet away in one of Dominic’s shirts, nodded her head and wrapped her arms around herself.

 “I’m going to call the police, okay? Should I?”

 “No, just wait here.” Dominic got into his pants and then slowly turned the bolt lock.

 “Don’t go out there!”

 “I’m gonna see what’s up. Stay right here.”

 “No!” Tristan got in between the door and Dominic. “He could have a weapon! You never get involved in this stuff!”

 “Get out of the way.” Dominic physically moved Tristan aside, though she asked him to not open the door.