The Skin Show

by Kristopher Rufty

  Being outside, the music was much louder. Dave Mustaine’s screeching solos, the laughing and hooting of people, reminded Andy of arriving at a party that had started without him.

  Sounds like one.

  The moon wasn’t quite full, throwing down a river of washed-out light across the parking area, giving them enough to see by, albeit barely. Black shapes of people dashed along the lesser darkness behind them, bypassing parked cars, rushing to the revelry.

  Sugar turned around, slightly bending while she walked backwards. She beckoned them to come with her fingers. “Follow me to the fun!” Spinning around on her heal, she cavorted ahead, her rump swaying high from side-to-side. The skirt rose with each swing of her hips, the tips of her buttocks peeking out from underneath.

  Karen walked alongside Andy. He looked at her, recognizing dread in the obscure frown on her face. He held out his hand, and to his surprise, Karen took it. Her grip was sweaty and cold.

  Drawing nearer, Andy noticed the neon lights pushing away the dark in a dome of gaudy brightness. Underneath the flamboyant colors was a large building. Designed like a house, it was two stories and stone-built, buried under a tarp of ivy and alpine plants.

  “There it is!” Sugar shouted over the loud music, pumping her fists in the air and howling.

  A ruckus of howls retorted.

  Andy studied the structure, scanning the wraparound porch and the large crowd of mostly men gathered under the eave. His eyes skimmed the double doors of the entranceway to a large bay window. It looked to be boarded up, but flashy pink light spilled through the cracks, throwing garish inverted crosses through the thin fissures. Bars had been attached to the front to keep people out.

  Or in.

  “The show’s about to begin!” called a woman’s voice.

  At first, Andy couldn’t locate who the voice belonged to. When he did, his breath snagged in his throat. A petite girl around Sugar’s age walked a short line at the bottom of the porch steps. Her torso was slim, nice breasts, with wide hips and curvy thighs. She wore a white tank top and denim cut-offs. Shoulder-length dark hair flapped with her movements. Not as sexy as Sugar, but damn close.

  He let go of Karen’s hand as they headed for the back of the line. He was reaching for his wallet when Sugar grabbed his forearm. “No. You’re on the list. You don’t have to wait.”

  “I don’t?”

  “Nope. That line’s not for you.”

  “How’d I get on the list?”

  “They called you, remember?”

  “But what about them?” He nodded toward the large group of bikers gathering in the front. “I’m afraid if I cut in front of them, they might slit my throat.”

  Sugar laughed. “Them?” She nodded as if considering it. “They just might be the kind that would. But, they understand the regulations.”

  “I don’t,” said Andy.

  Smiling, Sugar rubbed her hand across his cheek as if she felt sorry for him. “You don’t have to understand.” She thrust her chin toward the greeting girl. “Monica there keeps them entrained for us. Sometimes the size of our crowds are so large that we can’t let everyone in on the first night, so they are sent away and asked to return the next night. Since we’re only open for business on the weekends, we’ve built up quite a waiting list. But, others, like you, we’ve been waiting for.”

  Waiting for.

  Andy gulped. Hopefully no one saw it in the low light.

  “Let’s go.”

  Sugar started walking again. As she passed Monica, the greeting girl threw an arm around Sugar’s waist and pulled her close. Sugar was easily a foot taller than her, so Monica had to pull her face lower. They started making out, aggressively, their tongues lashing at each other’s mouths as if angry.

  The sudden amatory display stunned Andy. He quickly turned away, focusing on Karen. Grimacing, teeth bared, she watched them go at it.

  Finally the people in line noticed what was going on and started cheering them on. This motivated them to go even further. Arching her back, Sugar thrust her breasts in Monica’s face. She responded by pushing the shirt open to expose the large mounds.

  The crowd hooted even louder at this.

  Grinning, Monica’s eyes flicked toward Andy. She winked, then sucked a turgid nipple in her mouth, not taking her gaze away from him.

  Andy was the first to break the stare. He shouldn’t have been shocked by what he saw, but he was. Such things weren’t common to him, and probably not to a lot of people. He guessed that was why people came to The Skin Show, for the freedom without the judgment.

  He and Karen shared a jittery look.

  “This is insane,” said Karen.

  “I…” He didn’t even know what to say. Should he apologize to her? He felt like he’d somehow betrayed Karen by bringing her here.

  Wincing, Karen’s nose wrinkled into tight little furrows. “This is it.”

  “It?”

  “Last chance to change our minds.”

  Last chance…

  Before Andy could respond, the cheers turned to disappointed moans, so he assumed Sugar had put an end to the show. Turning toward the girls, he found his guess was correct.

  Sugar had pulled her shirt back together and was snapping it. Panting, she wiped the slick trails of Monica’s slobber off her mouth. “Wow. Sometimes we just can’t get enough of each other.”

  Monica stepped up behind Sugar, slapping her on the rump. “We’ll finish later.”

  “Damn right we will.”

  Monica looked at Andy, said, “Maybe we can bring a friend.” Then she was walking away from them, looking back at them over her shoulder.

  Andy’s skin felt crawly, threatening to peel from his body and run. Andy was so nervous that his stomach felt like a twisted rag.

  Sugar held her arms out. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s get inside. Like Monica said, the show’s about to begin.”

  Andy nodded. Then he hollered when a hand slapped down on his shoulder. The weight of it almost sent him to his knees.

  Karen spun around. A shrill gasp puffed out of her throat. Her eyes were huge white orbs in the mottled congestion of club lights.

  Andy looked over his shoulder and saw a giant monster leering down at him—beady red eyes that dazzled like rubies, dagger-like teeth in a wide, grinning mouth. A pronged tongue lapped across its thin black lips as if savoring the taste of something.

  Me?

  The fingers that held his shoulder were tipped with talons. He could feel their sharp points through his shirt. Its scaly skin was flashing, coalescing pink to purple to green in a never-ending cycle. The metamorphosis was quite beautiful, really, and Andy found himself growing transfixed, relaxing as he stared into its chest. It looked like a plastic casing, hollow on the inside, sheer skin over dimming and brightening layers.

  Its other gnarly hand rose, light glinting off its claws. Andy flinched at the sudden movement. For a moment he feared those talons would slice him down the front. He could almost feel his skin slitting open, blood spilling out.

  Its head tilted. The small eyes shrunk even smaller as they squinted. There was something about how it was eyeing him—nonthreatening, curious. Then it nodded, patted his shoulder, and removed its hand. Turning away, it wandered into the crowd. Those in the waiting line cheered as it plodded past them, its heavy feet slamming the ground.

  “Don’t mind him,” said Sugar. “I think he knows you from somewhere.”

  “Knows me?”

  Sugar pulled the door, propping it open with her hip. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Nice costume, huh?” said Karen, a hundred feet away from him.

  When Andy turned around he saw she was really only a foot away. A stratum of fog hovered in his mind. He shook his head to clear it. “Costume?”

  “Yeah! You’ve got to be talented to walk around on stilts like that.”

  Didn’t look like a costume to Andy. Then what was it? A monster? Andy stopped thinking about it be
fore he generated a response.

  On his way in, he glanced over his shoulder. Though the creature was a long ways off, he could see its vibrant skin swirling colors in the dark. It was standing still.

  Watching him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Andy might find his way along the poorly lit corridor better with his eyes closed. He blinked his eyes to make sure he really had them open. The walls pressed in close, forcing them to walk single file. He put his elbows against the sides to keep himself stanchioned.

  Sugar led the way. The only proof he had that she was there was the peach scent as he followed its sweet trail. And, just like in the car, Karen was in the rear, clutching his hand. He had to move with his arm extended behind him. He wasn’t sure if it was his hand that was sweaty, hers, or a combination of the two, but he nearly slipped from her grasp more than once along the way.

  How long is this damn hallway, anyway?

  The muffled blaring of music came from ahead. Megadeth was ending as Iron Maiden’s “Run for the Hills” began. They moved along, the song steadily growing louder.

  Andy could vaguely make out the shape of Sugar’s head now. Either his eyes were totally adjusted to the heavy dark, or they were approaching a light. When the air began to fill with a pink haze, he realized they were almost there.

  Sugar turned around. The bright whites of her teeth glowed in the dark.

  “Here we are!”

  Karen said, “I can hardly wait,” without any merriment.

  Sugar reached behind her back, bent her leg to thrust a knee in the air, then simultaneously pushed and kicked. A pair of doors flew open.

  Loud music and scattered shouts and hollers nearly threw Andy back. His hair ruffled from the sudden gust. Voices in a variety of tones seemed to be screaming back and forth. Something shattered. Probably a beer bottle from the deep rattles of its crash.

  Although the pink light was dim, it still hurt Andy’s eyes as he attempted to gaze into the room. People seemed to be all over: huddled in corners, filling the main floor, occupying tables that had been sporadically placed throughout. He saw leather-clad bikers, men in expensive suits, cowboys, men who looked like grandpas, men wearing trucker caps and sleeveless flannels, college-aged guys in polo shirts with the collars flipped up, and characterless people socializing together, dancing, and having a great time. Andy noted the lack of females, so few they stood out from the pack like pale scars on tanned skin.

  He spotted naked women, none appearing to be above twenty-five, walking back and forth, carrying trays. Some had empty glasses on top, others were filled with liquid.

  A damn night club or something.

  He should’ve figured as much with a name like The Skin Show.

  Probably a fetish club.

  No sign of Danny or Rosco. He knew it wouldn’t have been that easy, but he’d hoped for a quick find so they could get the hell out of here.

  Walking backwards, Sugar ran her hands through her hair, swerving her hips aggressively with the song. “Isn’t this the best?” She held her arms out, throwing back her head. “Come in! What’s ours is yours! And that means everything!” She kept swaying in reverse until she was swallowed by the crowd.

  Now it was just Andy and Karen standing at the mouth of The Skin Show. Karen pressed tightly against him. Even surrounded by so many, Andy felt completely alone. Sugar was the only person here that they knew, and she’d abandoned them.

  Andy saw Karen’s lips were moving. He couldn’t hear her over the din of the crowd, the pounding loudness of the music. The bass vibrated so deeply it was hard to breathe. Leaning down, he put his ear right at her mouth.

  Shouting, Karen said, “What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Then she turned, offering her ear to him.

  “I guess we find somewhere to go!”

  “Home?!”

  Andy thought about it. “If you want to leave, we will!”

  Karen seemed to consider it. Pursing her lips, she rolled her head, then leaned up for Andy’s ear. “No! Not yet, anyway! We need to look around! See if we can find Danny or Rosco!”

  Andy put his arm around her shoulders. He was surprised she’d allowed it. Maybe she wasn’t mad at him, after all. “I was thinking the same thing. Let’s give them thirty minutes! If we don’t see them by then, we’ll sneak out of here!”

  “What if they don’t show up until later?!”

  “Then I guess we’ll just miss them!”

  Nodding, Karen faced the crowd. She looked like a nervous child about to sit on Santa’s lap for the first time: eager, yet terrified. Her crystal-bright eyes shone with fear under the pink hues of the club which brought Andy even more feelings of guilt. Coming here was a bad idea. Hopefully, he wouldn’t regret it later.

  They made their way through the throng of people. Andy’s shoulder accidentally banged against someone. A man weighing no less than three hundred pounds of hardened muscle spun around. It looked as if he’d been dancing with a poster girl for the archetypal librarian. He glowered at Andy, ready to rip his arms off, but only for a fleeting moment. A polite smile showed. Then he said, “Pardon me.”

  “Yes,” was all Andy managed to say.

  The man gave him a single, open-palmed pat on the arm. “Isn’t this place something?”

  Andy nodded.

  “I can finally be myself, you know?”

  Andy had no clue, but nodded anyway.

  The man squeezed Andy’s arm. The strength was impressive and painful. “They have something for all of us!”

  Andy studied the woman as she hugged the man from behind. The man’s comment replayed in his head. It looked as if The Skin Show did offer something for everyone, and it appeared as if this guy had a thing for homely women. Running her tongue up the side of the man’s neck, her eyes watched Andy, curious and interested. Then she gnashed her teeth, softly nibbling on his neck. The man’s eyes rolled back, his head dropping onto her shoulder.

  Although Andy was drenched in sweat, he shivered. He felt his hand being pulled. Karen was leading him away, so he allowed her to guide him, happy to be away from the man and his fetish come to life.

  Karen stopped at the first empty table they came to. There were only two chairs, and they sat in them.

  It’s like they were expecting us.

  Another cloud of ice burst in his stomach. If he started thinking like that, he’d never stop.

  Karen leaned forward, elbows on the table, forehead pressed into her hands. Her fingers pushed into her hair, raising it slightly off her shoulders. She took a deep breath and let it out, puffing her cheeks.

  Andy hated that their table was up front, hated sitting at the very front of anything: movie theaters, concerts, restaurants. He couldn’t stand people being behind him, not knowing what they were doing. He always felt that the people were staring at him and not what they were supposed to be looking at.

  He scooted his chair to the side. At this viewpoint, he could see Karen and those behind them. Karen shifted her chair around so it would not only face the stage, but so it was directly beside him as well. Her leg bumped against his, she was so close. He glanced down and saw its bronzed smoothness vanishing into the shadows under the table. He could feel the warmth of her thigh through his pants.

  Andy quickly averted his eyes and observed the other tables while trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. He didn’t need to worry since they were either engrossed with each other, kissing and fondling, or were leaned in close so they could hear each other while they talked. No one seemed to have even noticed they’d sat down.

  Hopefully no one’s already claimed this table.

  If so, he’d surely hear about it whenever they came back from the bathroom or wherever they’d been. And if they were the size of that last guy, Andy would willingly give him back his seat.

  Hopefully no one tries to mess with us.

  Andy spotted a dark block against the wall on the right. The bar. A shirtless barmaid behind the counter strode
over to a naked waitress waiting with an empty tray. Her large breasts bounced as she approached the waitress, the tiny nipples hard like points.

  The waitress leaned over the bar, one leg bent at the knee, her foot arched and rocking behind her. The way the waitress was posed, her breasts were scrunched against her arms. Light gleamed on her sweaty skin. A crowd of men stood around her, groping and pawing whatever they could reach while waiting for their drinks. The waitress seemed unbothered by the hands squeezing her buttocks, squishing the plump mounds. She even shook it when they stopped, instigating another grab, which quickly came.

  Andy felt a hint of disgust and a small twinge of envy at the same time. Like he’d witnessed something he shouldn’t have, but something he could have participated in, too. Shaking his head, he didn’t want that idea to gain legs and run rampant in his mind.

  The barmaid set two glasses of some kind of booze on top of the tray, then quickly moved on to the next person in line. Tray perched on the flat of her hand, the waitress made her way to a couple that reminded Andy of parents out on a date night. At the table, she extravagantly leaned over, dramatically emphasizing her movements for effect. She made sure her plump breasts were shoved right in their faces as she served their drinks. The man’s hands reached up. At first, Andy thought he was going to take the drinks, but they each cupped a breast. The waitress looked up, chin pointing out, her eyes pinched shut and lips puckered out as if moaning.

  The woman reached around her date, planting her hand between the waitress’s thighs. Her mouth dropped open as the wife’s hand moved back and forth.

  Andy quickly looked away.

  And found Karen watching him. She arched her eyebrows like someone who’d accidentally discovered a nudie movie on TV while channel surfing and was wondering if he minded that they watch.

  Andy shrugged.

  Iron Maiden faded in the speakers. A new song didn’t start, but the noise of the patrons was nearly as loud as the music had been. Andy detected a high-pitch shriek and quickly realized it was his ears. He stuck a finger in his right ear and jiggled it.