by Ayo Campbell
“Roxy’s Diner.”
“So, you do know.”
“I make it my business to know,” Kaitlin said, batting her eyelashes. “I know that my mother held the deed to the business and the building. I also know that your mother put years into that business, and built it up to something that, while it is not thriving, is succeeding. Not a small task in this town.”
“The menu is good,” Vanessa said. “You should try it sometime.”
“I intend to. I like to know what is being served in my name.”
“Your name is only legal,” Vanessa said. “And that legality is tenuous at best.”
“But it is still legal.”
Vanessa nodded, regretting that she did.
“So,” Kaitlin said. “What is our business?”
In that moment, Vanessa’s mind ran through her dozen speeches – her pleas. She thought about justice. She thought about how the woman who had fallen into her mother’s hard work had every right just because of a tangled legal thing.
“Justice,” Vanessa finally said. “Both our mothers worked hard for what they got, and now you and I reap the benefits. And now, you have yours, and I have mine. What do you say we call it even?”
Kaitlin stared at her, and Vanessa didn’t understand that stare. Then Kaitlin nodded.
“I agree,” Kaitlin said. “It is just.”
Vanessa’s heart raced.
“Still,” Kaitlin added. “Justice is justice, but business is business. And while I appreciate your business in my club, I would ask something in return.”
“If you are going to ask me for some undefined favor at sometime in the future,” Vanessa said. “I cannot accept that.”
Kaitlin laughed a silvery, twittery laugh.
“No,” she said. “In fact, what I would ask is quite definable.”
“Yes?”
“It is a sort of understood thing,” Kaitlin said, “that on Mondays, restaurants close: it’s for cleaning and stocking, don’t you know?”
“I do.”
“So, next Monday, I would very much appreciate a visit from you. I get so bored here all alone.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“Sure you do, sugar,” Kaitlin said, smiling. “Dress pretty.”
Chapter 10
“She said what? – Oh, let me at her”
“Collie!”
“No, I mean let me at her. She’s real cute.”
The evening was slow, and the two were leaning over the counter, gazing out the windows. It was raining, and business was always down in the rain since most of their customers walked or took a bus.
“She wants me,” Vanessa said. “I can’ believe this–” She stopped and looked behind through the serving window. Bootsy was in the walk-in refrigerator. Vanessa lowered her voice. “I can’t believe this shit. That woman would give up title to this place for an afternoon’s romp?”
“She’d probably want to make it a regular thing,” Collie said. “But hey, it could be worse.”
“Collie, I’ve never been with a woman. I wouldn’t know–”
“What’s to know? You know what you like. She likes the same thing. It’s just that there’s no cocks involved.”
“Language!” Bootsy called out.
Collie rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” she went on, “it won’t be so bad. I mean, sex is sex, doesn’t really matter what flavor. Besides, you might enjoy it. You might discover a whole new side to you.”
“I doubt that,” Vanessa said. “I don’t find women attractive. I’d feel awkward and embarrassed, and I’d probably bumble it.”
“I could, um, coach you,” Collie said, grinning and batting her eyes. “You’re pretty cute too, you know.”
Vanessa just glared at her. Collie shrugged, and went back to gazing out at the rain.
“At least you took my counsel,” she said. “And were smart enough not to say no.”
“I was flummoxed. And then her phone rang, and I made a hasty retreat.”
“Politely, of course.”
“As polite as I could. She actually winked at me.”
“Well, you got time. Monday is a long way off.”
Vanessa watched the rain.
The weather turned dreary the rest of that week, and the lack of customers only added to Vanessa’s worried brain. She was determined not to sleep with Kaitlin, but she wanted to keep the appointment, just to see if she could talk the woman into another way. And, looming over everything was Jake.
Despite the gloomy days and the lack of real business, Sunday had come too quickly for Vanessa. Justin was at his usual stool with his crossword, but unlike his usual, he kept stealing glances at her, and they weren’t the flirting kind. His brow was furrowed.
She wondered if her apprehension was obvious. It was so slow that Collie went home early, and Vanessa was taking what few tables there were. But she managed to mix up two orders and spill a soda. Still, she stayed open till nine. Justin hung around as she and Bootsy were cleaning the kitchen.
“So tell me,” Vanessa said to her in a whisper, “where do you keep that cannon?”
“Why?” the woman asked.
“Because…because you never know. I just want to know where it is.”
The shotgun hung from two clips under the sandwich board. Vanessa took some small comfort in that. As she was leaving, Bootsy began drawing the window shaded, but Vanessa stopped her, saying that she’d take care of it. As she was locking the door, she noticed that Justin was gone, and there was something odd about that; something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She left the shades open and half the lights on, figuring that when Jake came by, she wanted the world to see. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a world outside that night.
She went to the safe and took out the envelope marked J. She sat at her desk, trying to be doing the books, but she had trouble concentrating. When she saw that week’s dismal take, her heart sank lower. Not for the first time, she thought to just grab what cash she could and take the next flight back to Seattle and forget the whole business.
Then she looked at the manila envelope again, and saw the weeks and weeks that her mother had so diligently scrimped and saved. Vanessa wondered how many nights her mother had spent at that very desk, going over those same dreary numbers, and thinking to grab what cash she could and run away herself.
But her mother had nowhere to go. That neighborhood, that street, that building was all she had ever really known, and Vanessa never figured the woman as the adventurous sort. She thought about that hideous sign.
Eat Mo’ Bettah
Her mother, in spite of everything, kept that thing in meticulous shape. It had represented something that she was proud of. Vanessa sighed, knowing that, in all good conscious, she couldn’t cut and run. She’d have to face—
She heard someone fiddling with the lock on the door. She took up the envelope. Jake was grinning at her through the big glass. His two goons were with him. Vanessa made sure the chain was set before she opened the door a crack.
“You went and changed the lock on me,” Jake said chuckling. “Now that’s not very friendly.”
“Here,” she said, shoving the envelope at him. “While you were gone, my mother kept up her payment schedule. She was a meticulous bookkeeper; this is what she owes you. Goodnight and goodbye.”
“No, wait,” he said, jamming his foot in the door. “We gotta talk. Things have changed.”
“They have,” Vanessa said, shoving on the door. “We’re square.”
Jake and one of his men rammed the door and it burst open. Vanessa went flying, landing on her ass. The three strode in and stood over her, one of them turning and carefully locking the door.
“No,” Jake said, throwing the envelope in her face. “We’re just starting. You see, when I saw you at Miss Kitty’s club the other night, you walked away from the drink I bought you. That was rude. So, when I followed you with it, I saw you were sit
ting with Justin Goodman. I recognized him. So did Talia. While the bouncers were busy hustling her out, I found a place where I could watch you two. You were very friendly. I mean, very friendly. You doing him?”
“Fuck you,” she said, inching away.
“You’re doing him,” Jake said, nodding and grinning. “So, you see, this puts a whole new perspective on things. The man’s loaded, and I think that he’d be willing to buck up nicely to keep anything bad from happening to his brown sugar. In fact, I think that your pretty ass is worth more than ten large. Let’s say a hundred.”
“Fuck you!” she shouted.
Vanessa scrambled to her feet and dashed into the kitchen. Jake and his boys sauntered after her. Vanessa reached for the shotgun—and it wasn’t there! She dropped to her knees, frantically searching, but the gun was gone. Her heart dropped. The swinging doors opened, and the men strolled in. She grabbed a carving knife, and backed away. The goons pulled out their pistols.
“Boys,” Jake said. “C’mon, let’s play fair.”
They laughed. They put away their guns and took out very long, very gleaming, and very nasty looking knives.
“We put a bullet in you,” Jake said, “and you’re no fun. Then there’s the hospital and cops and shit. But, I think that your lover boy will get the message if we just mess you up – just a little, while we’re, um, demonstrating what else could happen to a pretty lady like you.”
“Great tits,” one of the men said.
“Bet she’s tight,” the other said, still grinning.
Vanessa’s heart raced. She broke out in a sweat. They took a step, and she brandished her knife. They all cringed in mock horror. She felt a pulse of heat wave through her – and then she realized that the deep fryers were still hot. She had one desperate move.
She screamed bloody murder and flung the knife at them. As they moved to dodge, she grabbed a fryer basket, and laced it through the air, spattering the three with hot oil.
“Fuck!” one shouted.
“Shit! My eye!”
“You fucking bitch!”
But even as Jake lunged at her, there was a small explosion from the door, then an orange flash. All three assailants shrieked and fell to the floor, crying and writhing in agony.
Vanessa didn’t think. She leapt over them – and into Justin’s arms. He held Bootsy’s shotgun, one barrel still smoking. He held her tight as she turned away from the scene. But even as she did she saw the red and blue lights of police cars illuminating the room. Four officers burst in, guns drawn.
“Drop the weapon,” one of them shouted.
Justin obeyed and took Vanessa all in his arms.
When things sorted out, Vanessa expected to see a bloody mess in her kitchen. Instead, the cops led away Jake and his boys, limping and crying.
“Rock salt,” Justin explained. “Bootsy loads her own shells with a short charge and pure rock salt. She was planning for drugged up teenagers, and she didn’t want to kill anyone. I guess she saw enough of that in her life.”
“I hope she has a permit,” the plain clothed cop said.
“Knowing her,” Justin replied. “I am sure that she does.”
“We’re gonna need you two to come to the station,” the cop said. “We’re gonna need official statements, swear out a complaint, that kind of stuff.”
“Detective?” a uniformed sergeant said. “You know who that was? That was Jake the Snake.”
The detective laughed, high-fiving his buddy.
“He and his posse are on their way to Spaulding Hospital,” the sergeant said. “And, I got this feeling that they’re gonna resist arrest, so, we’ll be able to hold ‘em without a complaint from these good citizens.”
“Cool,” the detective said. “You two can stop by the station anytime tomorrow.”
“Cool,” Justin said.
“Officer?” Vanessa said, her brain still reeling.
“Detective,” the detective said.
“Sergeant,” the sergeant said.
“Yeah,” Vanessa said. “Sorry. But, are those guys – I mean, they got shot.”
“Nothing critical, ma’am,” the sergeant replied. “Just broke the skin. But, they’ll be hurting for weeks. There’s salt in the wounds, and, you know, those docs at Spaulding just can’t get everything. They got real patients to tend to.”
“Oh.”
Vanessa was still stunned as the police left, the red and blue strobes slowly fading as the patrol cars drove away. She stood in the dining room, still clutching Justin for dear life. The place seemed suddenly so quiet and calm. It was as it had always been when she closed and locked up for the night, except there was a manila envelope on the floor.
“Justin,” she asked, timidly, “where did you come from?”
“Boston,” he said. “I grew up here.”
“No! I mean tonight.”
“Oh,” he replied. “That. Well, when you messed up Mrs. Penn’s order, I knew that something was up in your brain; she always orders the crab cakes, and you served her the jambalaya. That’s her husband’s dish. So, I knew that your brain was elsewhere. Then I heard you asking Bootsy about the shotgun. So, when you were cleaning the kitchen, I slipped into the men’s room.”
“The bell,” Vanessa said, taking a breath. “I saw that you were gone, but I never heard the bell and – and you grabbed Bootsy’s shotgun?”
“I did.”
“How did you know—”
“I hung the clamps there. I’m something of a handyman.”
“You mother f–”
“Language,” Justin said, wagging a finger.
“I’ll give you language!” Vanessa shouted. “You took away my only fucking defense! And then you watched. You watched from the bathroom while those bastards were looking to rape me. And then – then, at the last moment you come blazing in, all James Bond, looking to save my ass and make yourself some kind of fucking hero?”
“I needed to wait,” he said.
“Wait for what!”
“Wait for them to make a real move. Breaking and entering would get them out on bond in the morning. They’d be back. I – we needed to put them away.”
“So, you just let them scare the shit out of me?”
“I had to,” he said. “I had to have them move on you before the cops could take them, real final.”
“So, you just let them–”
“No,” Justin said, his fingertips on her sweaty cheek. “I would never. You showed guts, Vanessa. In the face of those animals, you showed real guts.”
“What choice did I have?”
“You could have caved. Made things easy on yourself.”
“I could not.”
“You,” Justin said, shaking his head. “You and me – we could be something.”
Vanessa’s blood had gone from frozen to slush to melting. But her brain was alive and active. And her body was clammy with sweat. She took a deep breath and looked at him. He was the scraggly Justin; his silvery hair tied back, his beard unkempt, and his jeans and shirt rumpled but clean. And even as she looked at him, she caught a whiff of gunpowder, and something in her decided.
She grabbed him by the lapel and slammed him against the wall.
“Help,” he said
“You’re in my world now,’” she said.
They didn’t make it to the bedroom. Vanessa nailed him hard, deep, and fast right there on the dining room floor. Justin gave as good as he got, but Vanessa was an animal. She was on an adrenaline rush, and she did herself on him as though he was a toy. She worked him as hard and fast and as brutal as Jake and his boys would have done her. But the big difference was that Justin laughed and smiled and worked her back, hard and fast and brutal.
At the police station Monday morning, Vanessa expected that Jake and his boys would be paraded before them, dressed in orange and behind a screen. What she got was paperwork.
New detectives separated them, brought her to an interrogation room where she had to tell
her story again while a stenographer dutifully transcribed her every word. That was long and boring and then she had to initial each paragraph as it was read back to her.
“Does all of this indicate,” she asked in frustration, “that that animal and his cohorts are going to go away?”
“Yeah,” the new detective said. “You are not the only small business that that snake has been shaking down with seedy loans and protection. Sign this last form, and you will become a community hero – at least in our eyes.”
“Look,” she said, thinking about Justin. “I don’t want any publicity. I don’t want the papers to–”
“Yeah,” the new detective said. “We know. Sign here, and the snake will have to cut a deal with the DA, and with his record, that deal will be, minimum, ten years.”
Vanessa signed. But as she did she realized how fleeting ten years could be.
“What the heck has happened to my kitchen?” Bootsy cried.
It was Tuesday morning, and Justin and Vanessa were lazing in her bed, after a day and a night of treating themselves, alternating between the diner, and the bedroom.
“Oops,” Vanessa said, as she snuggled. “I forgot to clean up.”
“We forgot,” Justin said.
“Okay.”
They kissed. They began to fondle, and they would have fallen into more love, but Bootsy’s rantings held them. They took a quick shower, snuggling and caressing as lovers.
“You,” Bootsy said as they walked through the kitchen. “You two think that my kitchen is your nest? What is all this do-ban on my floor?”
“Language,” Vanessa said.
Bootsy glared.
“It’s salt,” Justin said.
“So, why is it all over the place? And where is my gun—oh – oh. Thanh thien.”
“Language,” Vanessa said again.
“How do you know?”
“It’s in your tone,” Vanessa said. “Holy shit seems pretty universal. So, here’s what happened…”
Vanessa explained the events of Sunday night.
“Chau toi,” Bootsy said softly. “My god. Still, you are safe, and the police are glad?”
“I am, and they are.”
“Momma Ellen…I knew that there was something with that man. She would…but that’s not my business. So, you unload on their arses? Both rounds?”