From their table, Samuel watched her.
“You’re looking the wrong way,” Gary said, and pulled Samuel’s arm. “See that chick at the end of the bar? All made up, big tits? She’s not a college girl, that’s for sure. Know what that means. She’s here looking for young men! Met lots of her type back in Jersey. One showed me the ropes when I was 14! Helped make me the stud I am today!” He smirked, jokingly puffed out his chest. “Problem is, there’s no girlfriend with her. I don’t want to leave you sitting here alone.”
“Go on,” Samuel said. “I’ll walk around, check the place out.”
“Let me get you a beer first.” Gary motioned for the waitress before Samuel could stop him.
“What’ll you have?” the middle-aged woman asked, her wrinkled midriff bare between a coconut shell bikini top and grass skirt.
“Two Millers,” Gary said. “No cheap crap today! Want something to eat?” he asked Samuel. “I told you, I’m treating.”
“Maybe some pretzels.”
“You heard him, honey,” Gary said to the waitress who, with tired eyes, looked at him a few seconds before leaving. “See that! She wants me! This place is awesome! That’s the one good thing about the war, the drinking age! In high school back in Jersey I’d hang out near a liquor store and ask some old fart to buy beer for me. Usually I didn’t have to pay anything extra. Most of them liked the idea. They told me it was like when they were young and sneaking around drinking. Dealing with winos was different. You had to throw them a few bucks so they could get something for themselves. After I turned 18, I went in and bought what I wanted. The war did that! You can fight in Nam at that age, why not also get drunk!”
The waitress rattled the beers down.
“Here’s to babes in short skirts!” Gary clinked Samuel’s bottle. “A cold beer on a hot day, almost nothing better.” He took a long drink. “Something wrong? Your beer’s sitting there.”
“I’m fine with pretzels right now,” Samuel said.
“Hey, Bud, we’re toasting.”
Samuel slowly lifted the bottle and sipped. The bitter, icy cold liquid burned his throat. He told Gary before he could ask. “I’ve never had a beer before.”
“Weird. What do you like?”
“Coke,” Samuel answered. “Or red pop.”
“I mean, what kind of booze?”
“None.”
“I don’t get it. You went to college and law school. How did you party?”
“I didn’t,” Samuel answered.
“You’ve never been drunk?”
“No.”
“Holy shit!” Gary shook his head. “Are you for real? The next thing you’ll tell me is that you’re a virgin!”
“I’m not,” Samuel feeling from the finality of these words, loss, but also excitement. He wanted to make love to Kate again.
But she has a boyfriend…
He drank. The beer tasted better.
“There you go!” Gary said, and hit the table. “Stick with me, buddy! We’ll rock this place! Time to check out that foxy lady!” He brushed his hair back and sauntered toward the bar.
Samuel again turned to the folksinger. He wondered if she saw him. After quickly finishing his beer and Gary’s, he ordered another one. The more he drank, the more angelic the singer’s face became.
Getting up, he bumped against a girl sitting at a nearby table.
“Sorry,” he said, “please excuse me.” He bowed, stopped himself from falling forward by grabbing her shoulders.
Zigzagging to the stage, Samuel stood and swayed while smiling at the singer.
She’s so beautiful…Oh-oh. Can’t use that word… But she is, just like Mary Wiggins! Mary. She had green eyes, the green of sea glass, except I never found any ‘cause I never went to the beach in New England. But I know there is glass, washed up from the ocean. Minnie found a blue piece for her granddaughter and some must be Mary Wiggins green. But this singer isn’t Mary. Or Kate.
Why does Kate have a boyfriend? Why doesn’t she want me to love her? What did it mean…nothing? How can that be? We were so close. The warm, caring kind. Not like my hot sticky room full of Palmetto bugs flying and flapping their little stinking wings.
Maybe this is what Kate wants for me—to find someone else to love. I’ll do it! Right now! I’m going to ask this girl out!
The folksinger finished and began putting her guitar away.
Samuel couldn’t talk.
She closed the lid and turned to leave.
He again tried to speak to her.
The stage empty, he stood alone.
“Where is she, that whore!” a man bellowed, looking around the room before bulling his way toward the bar. “Gladys, you bitch!”
Gary had been speaking to the older woman. He got up quickly and backed away from the squat, muscular man charging toward them. Face flat, his nose looking like twisted putty, black, greasy hair on his arms and neck, the man grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her off the stool.
“Knew I’d find you here! Thought you could sneak out when I was working at the shop! But I know your ways. It’s what you learn when married to a slut!”
“I was just having a drink! That’s all, Charlie.”
“Bullshit! You’re coming home!” He yanked her toward him.
“You’re hurting her,” Gary said.
“Yeah?” Charlie let go and clenched his large hands into fists. “Making this your business, shithead? Why is that? Thinking about fucking her?”
Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, the skinny bartender, nervously clutching his plastic lei, scurried to the opposite end of the bar. The coeds picked up their fringe or mod purses and got ready to run. The boys watched and drank more beer.
Samuel stepped closer to a wooden Tiki warrior holding a spear.
Is this heavy? No! I can lift him and run at that guy, shout, and he’ll be surprised, then Gary and me can escape and I’ll keep the statue, put it in the backseat of my car, and show it to Kate! The folksinger will be sad I’m gone but that’s what happens to superheroes. They fly away!
Samuel leaned toward the carving, squinted trying to make his face look as fierce as the warrior’s.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Gary said.
“You’ve found it,” Charlie answered.
His hand moving quickly, Gary flicked open a knife.
“Whoa there, boy!” The man backed away.
Gladys picked up a bottle.
“Try anything and I’ll bash your brains in!” she yelled at Gary. “Sorry, Hon.” Gladys wrapped her arm tight around Charlie’s neck and French kissed him.
Holding hands, they left the bar.
The bartender returned to his normal station. The coeds again surveyed the room. At their tables, the boys continued burping and drinking.
“That was fun,” Gary said, walking over to Samuel. “Know where I made my mistake? I took too much time! With most women, all I have to do is flash my smile and buy them a beer. But some of the older babes, like that one, want to make sure they’re not screwing around with a loser. Probably that’s because they’re afraid of catching something. Next time we come here, I’ll be prepared. I’ll have a pocket full of business cards with my phone number on them and my title, Gary Ambrose, Executive Sales Representative, Stallion Enterprises. Then those ladies will know I’m not just a young, good looking guy in a bar. I’ll make my move before any big gorilla tries to butt in. Are you OK? You look fucked up.”
“Couldn’t be better,” Samuel said, before vomiting on the Titki warrior’s head.
“Oh, shit.” Gary grabbed some napkins and wiped Samuel’s face.
“Thank you, Gary, we’re pals! We help each other! I once had a blind friend. He taught me how to sing, then moved away. Can you sing? Do you see colors? I do. All gray. Why is that, Gary? Why doesn’t Kate love me?”
“I can’t believe you got drunk on one beer.”
“I had a little more…Hear that ticking? Time for a brew!” He raised his hand toward the waitress, fell into Gary’s arms.
“You’re my best friend,” Samuel slurred while looking up into the taller boy’s eyes.
Gary helped him out of the bar and into the passenger side of the Pinto. They turned onto Dixie Highway.
“I’m just like you, Gary! I drink and screw, drink and screw!”
“That’s right! We’re freaking twins! If you’re going to barf, tell me, and I’ll pull over. Think I can use the car again tomorrow? I’ll drive you to work.”
“Sure! No problem! My dad doesn’t have to know. And he won’t. He lives with van Gogh’s ear in a big, colorful world. Isn’t that funny? No, it’s not. An ear can go there, but I can’t.”
“Christ, Sam, you’re nuts.”
“No, I’ve got nuts! Big ones!” Samuel closed his eyes, saw crimson and violet clouds melting like wax onto the flying breasts of Valkyries.
At Gables Court, his arm draped over Gary’s shoulder, Samuel continued talking while guided into his apartment. After stopping him from sliding off a chair, Gary pushed open the bedroom wall then carried Samuel to the bed.
“What time do you have to be at work?”
“Who cares!” Samuel began giggling.
“I’ll set your alarm for 7, pick you up at 8.” Gary took off Samuel’s shoes. “See you in the morning.”
“So long friend.” Samuel weakly waved goodbye.
The bed began to spin. He made it to the bathroom.
When back in bed, Samuel slept inside a deep blackness, impenetrable to thought and sound, Kate no longer beside him, even in dream.
12
Eyes closed, Samuel groped for the alarm clock, managed after a few tries to turn it off.
The world in fog, he showered, dressed, his movements slow as he concentrated on each button. He started to knot his tie, fell asleep standing. Banging jerked him awake.
“Coming,” he mumbled, finally making it to the door after bumping into a wall, then chair.
“You look like shit,” Gary said cheerfully “Let me get that for you. I like a Windsor. Learned to tie one myself. My old man never wore a tie in his life. You don’t have to when you’re a janitor. There, perfect. Your jacket is crooked.” He straightened the shoulders. “We’re professionals. We have to look sharp. When I drop you off, I’m going for a haircut.” Evening their length, he pulled the sleeves of his black suit closer to his white shirt’s cuffs.
Outside, Samuel squinted, the diffused light from an overcast sky hurting his eyes.
“I brought you this.” Gary took a thermos from his briefcase.
“What’s in it?”
“Black coffee.” He filled the cap.
“Maybe later.”
“Now. This is what you need.”
Samuel sipped, hated the taste.
“A little more. That’s good. Take the thermos with you, just remember to bring it back. OK, time to hit the road! We’ve got a big day ahead!”
Slumped down on the passenger side, Samuel gave directions. When they arrived at the office building he still felt hungover.
“Off to make money!” Gary said, and drove away.
Samuel watched his shadow float ahead of him to the building’s entrance then disappear, as if unwilling to go inside. After walking slowly across the lobby, he stood looking at his reflection in the elevator’s shiny metal door. Eyes closed, he took a deep breath before pushing the penthouse button.
“How are you today, Mr. Baas,” the receptionist greeted him.
“Great!” Samuel answered too loudly. “And you, Miss Goode?”
“Crystal,” the woman corrected him, her voice a purr.
Samuel nodded and grateful he could escape her breasts pointed at him from under her semi-sheer blouse, walked quickly into the RHB Enterprise office.
Vera glanced up at him.
“Big night? I have files for you.”
“Thank you. I’m wondering…Is Mr. Eldridge in?”
The secretary snorted, used the cigarette butt in her mouth to light up another Lucky Strike.
Samuel sat at the conference table and waited. He didn’t feel like working or speaking to anyone, especially Mr. Eldridge. He wanted to be Gary, a Stallion executive free to drive around and sell oil.
Yes sir, I can fill that order for you, no problem. Mr. Ambrose is my partner. Gary…
Samuel jerked awake as Vera shut the door.
“I’m sorry…”
“Let’s get something straight.” She stood, hands on hips, her chin thrust out. “I do my job and I don’t want you making it any harder.”
“I won’t, I—”
“What did Eldridge tell you about himself?”
“He worked in a law firm downtown. They did real estate.”
“I was his secretary. The partners fired him. I’m sure he left that out.”
“Then he met Mr. Baxter?”
“Hell no. Eldridge went out on his own, struggled until he got Mullins as a client. That’s when we started handling evictions. He hired young lawyers like you to do the filing. None of them stayed long. Has he played chess with you yet?”
“No,” Samuel answered.
“He will, and he’ll win. It’s his way of showing he’s smarter. He is smart, but lazy. He’d rather golf or gamble than work. That’s why the law firm let him go. Mullins is a lowlife who’s flattered thinking he’s friends with a lawyer. Eldridge plays along. They’ll talk in the office, laugh in their like jackasses, but Mullins will never meet any of Eldridge’s hoity-toity buddies or golf at his country club. Know why you got this job?”
“My father called Mr. Eldridge.”
“After meeting him in Las Vegas. Eldridge owes him money. You are repayment for a debt. Don’t think you’re anything more than that.”
Samuel looked down at the table. His face burned.
“I’ve seen a lot in the twenty years I’ve been working for him,” Vera continued. “This Baxter setup with its fancy offices and floozy out front is just the latest wrinkle. Don’t let any of it fool you. Do what I say and we’ll get along fine. From now on, pick the files up at my desk. You asked about Eldridge? He’s out golfing.”
After she left, Samuel closed his eyes, blocking out sunlight and sound, but mostly color. He remembered being called Ringo because of his large nose...
“Mr. Baas,” Susan lightly touched his hand.
Samuel blinked, sat up quickly.
“Is it time for lunch?” he asked.
“No, but you owe me. Remember. I treated last week.”
“Oh, right, I’ll buy today. How much…”
“I’m not eating lunch,” Susan said, “but you can take me to dinner.”
“Dinner? Sure, that would be nice. I don’t know any good restaurants. I’ve been eating at Burger King except when someone gave us a pizza—not to me, but to…well, actually, I didn’t eat it because…it got wet! That’s what happened! What kind of food do you like? I don’t care. I mean, I care what you like, but I can eat anything. I like ham!”
Samuel wanted to die.
“Nothing fancy,” she said. “How about a movie too? Are you free this Saturday?”
“Saturday, yeah, Saturday’s good.” He felt pinned to his chair, Susan continuing to stand close to him, her face too young for her body.
“I’ll come by at 6,” she told him.
“I can pick you up.”
“I like driving.”
“OK. Let me write down my address.”
“You don’t have to. I know where you live. See you later, Mr. Baas.”
Samuel rested his head on the table…got up and went to Vera’s desk for the files.
. . . . .
Leaving the building after work, Samuel saw Gary waiting for him in the car.
“I’m here, right on time!” he said when Samuel got in.
“How was it today? Get many orders?”
“No, but it’s Monday. Tomorrow will definitely be better! I’ve got an idea. How about some brewskies!”
“If you let me buy. And forget about putting gas in the car. I have a credit card.”
“Thanks, Sam, that’ll help. But it’s a loan. I’ll keep track of how many miles I drive and pay you back. Hell, in a few weeks we won’t need this Pinto anymore. You and me will have new cars! What kind would you like?”
“I don’t know. My father’s friend picked this one out for me.”
“It’s OK, don’t get me wrong, but not exactly the coolest ride on the road. The bright yellow color doesn’t help either. I’ve got it! We’ll get matching red Vettes! You’ll be fine with one passenger seat. I’ll have to crowd all my ladies in!”
They laughed.
“I made an extra set of car keys,” Gary said. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be easier this way. Here’s yours back. The shamrock keychain is for luck.”
“Thank you,” Samuel said, the green metal shiny in his hand. “This means a lot to me.”
“You putting me on? It’s just a fucking keychain! You’re acting like you never got a present before.”
“I have, but not from a friend.” He took the keys off and put the shamrock deep into his pocket.
Gables Court Page 5