Love Over Moon Street

by Saxon Bennett

  “Uh, yeah. My charity only goes so far. You do look pretty hot in those pants, however.”

  “Well, thank you.” Vibro did the “vogue” pose made popular by Madonna, which Sparky thought rather fitting considering they were in a Catholic thrift store. “Do you think they’ll let us wear these out of the store?”

  Sparky had chosen a black leather beanie hat. “I don’t see why not. It’ll save them a bag.” She plucked a straw cowboy hat off the rack and handed it to Vibro.

  Vibro adjusted it, pulling it down on her head so it rode just above her eyes.

  The nun had no problem with them wearing their purchases out of the store. “Well, girls, I think you all made some good choices. Now go out there and do the right thing. One for the Gipper and all that.”

  “I’ll be gipping Jennifer before this whole thing is over,” Vibro said, marching toward the bar.

  “Vibro, hold on.” Sparky was carrying both their clothes under her arms. “We gotta drop this stuff off and I’ve a plan for that hat of yours.”

  Vibro stopped and veered toward the Navigator. “I kind of forgot myself for a minute there.” She gave her shirt a sniff. “We might need some perfume. I smell a little musty.”

  “Un parfum de thrift store.”

  “Exactly.”

  Sparky put their bundles of clothes on the backseat while Vibro dug around in her purse for perfume. She gave them both a shot of Calvin Klein One. “That’s much better,” she said, sniffing herself.

  Sparky opened the back door of the Navigator and pulled out a toolbox. She rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. “Bring your hat and the movie camera.”

  “What are you going to do?” Vibro said, standing next to her.

  “Improvise a hidden camera in your hat. Now, I know I told you I had a concern about you doing the taping, but I have faith in your ability to control yourself.” Using electrical tape, she attached the movie camera to a headlamp that she’d found in her uncle’s toolbox. All good electricians had a headlamp to aid them in exploring dark places in cramped quarters. “Put this on your head.”

  Vibro did as instructed. Sparky gingerly put the straw cowboy hat on her head and with a carpenter’s pencil made a mark on the hat where the camera lens should be located. She removed the hat. She took a penknife and cut a neat little hole. The hat had small holes in the weave so one more small hole would not be noticeable, especially in a dark bar.

  “There that should work. Okay, let’s give it a test run. Turn the movie camera on and then put your hat on.”

  Vibro turned the camera on and readjusted the headlamp. She put the hat on and turned her head in various directions and walked away from the Navigator. “Do you think this is far enough, say, if I was sitting at the bar and Jennifer was on the dance floor pelvic thrusting with Olive Oyl, grabbing her ass and fondling her breasts and whispering…”

  “Yes,” Sparky said, putting an end to the diatribe. “Now, come back here and let’s see what you got.” She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed them. She shut the back door of the Navigator and bid Vibro to get in so they could be more discreet.

  Vibro pulled her head gear off and ran the video. It had worked perfectly. Vibro jumped up and down in her seat. “Gotcha now, you cheating little floozy.”

  “Vibro?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to be disappointed if she isn’t committing adultery?”

  “Of course. It’ll ruin my evening. But I can tell you right now—they don’t hold Pampered Chef parties in a gay bar.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Now, let’s go,” Vibro said.

  They made their way to the bar. A large woman with the physique of a bodybuilder opened the door and checked out their IDs. “What sort of a name is Vibro Squirm?” the woman said, studying the driver’s license.

  “It’s Japanese. Pretend you have a Japanese accent and say it. Sort of draw it out. Like this Veee-BRO SQoooom.”

  The woman complied. “You don’t look Japanese.”

  “I was adopted,” Vibro replied.

  Then she checked out their outfits. “Been to a seventies party?” she asked, thoroughly checking out Vibro’s tits in the tight shiny shirt. She didn’t give Sparky in her crushed velvet suit a second look.

  “No, we always dress like this,” Vibro said, swinging around to take a good look at the bar and almost taking Sparky’s eye out with the brim of the hat.

  “We got a hatcheck right over there,” the big gal said, letting her tinted glasses slide down her nose as she checked out Vibro’s ass.

  “Why would I need a hatcheck? Do I look like I need a hatcheck? I wanna keep my hat on,” Vibro said.

  “Like in that Etta James song,” the big gal said, smiling broadly.

  “What song?” Vibro said.

  “Never mind,” Sparky said. She pulled Vibro away from the bouncer, who had taken a definite shine to her.

  “What was that all about? Did she suspect that I had a camera in my hat?”

  “No, silly, she was trying to pick you up. I saw her checking out your ass and that song by Etta James describes doing a striptease, only you leave your hat on.”

  “Oh.”

  “Boy, when you start dating again I better come along for the ride as your interpreter,” Sparky teased.

  “After this I’m going on the non-date diet with you.” She checked Sparky out. “Well, it might be hard around you, though, if you wear that crushed velvet suit.”

  “I feel very close to Starsky and Hutch right now. I feel like one of their pimp informers. Just call me Huggy Bear.”

  Vibro snickered.

  “I didn’t know your name was Japanese,” Sparky said.

  “It’s not. Do you want a rum and Coke minus the rum?”

  “Sure. I’ll scope out a table,” Sparky said.

  “Try and get a fix on the conniving, bitchy, slutty, whore adulterer.”

  “Jennifer?”

  “Yeah, that one. She’s the only one I know.”

  Sparky gave her a look.

  “I’ll control myself—don’t worry,” Vibro said.

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Sparky was pretty sure that Uncle Milton knew someone in the bail bonds business if things did go sour. She strolled by the dance floor, squeezing between bodies until she came to an opening near the back wall.

  “I love your outfit,” a young Latina woman said. She stroked Sparky’s arm. “It’s so soft. I haven’t seen you here before.” She looked like she was going to rub her entire body against Sparky’s velveteen. Sparky sidestepped. “I think I see my friend,” she said, moving back to the dance floor.

  That was when she spotted Jennifer dancing with Olive Oyl. Something other than good looks must have inspired Jennifer’s interest in her because Vibro was gorgeous compared to Olive Oyl. The woman was also older than Vibro by a good ten years. So why? Well, at least Vibro wouldn’t be humiliated by some young and beautiful bimbo. Vibro was only being sexually humiliated—horrible as that was. Sparky watched as Jennifer gave the woman a long languorous kiss while they danced. That sealed the deal, as the saying went—if they hadn’t gone to bed yet, they were well on their way.

  Someone yelled, “Get a room.”

  Sparky made her way to a table adjacent to the dance floor. The waitress had just wiped it off. Sparky snagged it just before another couple came by searching for a table. She sat and pondered the situation.

  She wished that she could take Vibro’s hat and make her go sit in the car, because seeing this was going to hurt—no matter Vibro’s bravado. Maybe Vibro could poke a hole in Jennifer’s sexual peccadilloes by telling her after they broke up that Jennifer never made her come, that she had faked it the whole time. Now, that would screw with someone’s head. Sparky wondered if Jennifer would even care.

  Vibro returned with the Cokes sans rum. “Did you see anything?” She made to scratch her head under the h
at, but she was really turning the camera on.

  “You’re a quick study in the espionage department.”

  “I have many talents you are not yet aware of,” Vibro said, positioning herself so she had an unobstructed view of the dance floor.

  Sparky moved to impede her view. Vibro tried to look around her. “Sparky, you’re in the way.”

  “I know. Vibro, do you really want to see this?”

  “I didn’t get all duded up to abort the mission.” She leaned her head to the side so she could see around Sparky. The dance floor was packed now as the sound system blared some song Sparky had never heard that made all the dancers gyrate, some of them not well. Thank God, it wasn’t a slow song or Vibro would have gotten an eyeful.

  “What if I took the pictures and you went to the car and waited? You could watch the movie.”

  Vibro sipped her Coke sans rum and studied her. “Did you see them?”

  “I just think it might be painful for you. I know, we all need visual confirmation, it’s like how the dead have to be identified and open coffins, and police lineups and eyewitness reports and why the television news even exists—we have to SEE things in order to believe them. What’s wrong with knowing and then letting it be?”

  “Were they kissing?”

  “Vibro, listen to me.”

  “I know you care and that makes you a good friend. I do really appreciate it and your impassioned speech was really rather good, but for my own sake, for my own sense of self-esteem I have to look into the abyss that is my girlfriend.”

  “I feel like Byron and Shelley having a philosophical discussion on the nature of adultery,” Sparky said.

  “That’s a good way to look at it. Now move.”

  Sparky sighed. She would’ve put her head down on the table, but it still looked a bit sticky despite having just been wiped down by the waitress.

  Vibro eased back in her chair and looked toward the dance floor where Jennifer and Olive Oyl were gyrating like the rest of the crowd but not yet fornicating. Vibro frowned. “I can still get her on the lying part, but then she’ll say something like the party was canceled and why waste the night and Olive Oyl told her about this new club and next thing you know they were dancing and nothing happened because I wouldn’t do that to you. I read in a magazine that one of the things cheaters say to their spouses is ‘I would never do that to you,’ like that doesn’t set off any alarms.”

  “And you’re afraid Jennifer would do that if given the chance?”

  “I know she would,” Vibro said as the gyration song ended and Jennifer and Olive Oyl walked off the dance floor.

  They watched as Jennifer and Olive Oyl took a table nearby. At this point Vibro and Sparky hunkered over their Cokes sans rum.

  “Shit,” Vibro said, “I didn’t think they’d sit right next to us.”

  “Just pretend we’re deep in conversation and drink your Coke. Hopefully, they won’t recognize us and if she does you can say we went to a seventies party and you heard about the club and well…”

  “Are you sure you didn’t read that magazine?”

  “I’m just quick on my feet. If she lied about her whereabouts she’s not going to nail you for yours.”

  “True. Can you still see them?” Vibro said. She sucked on her straw, making a big show of being nonchalant, and almost knocked her hat off as she did it.

  “Yes, I’ll keep watch. No worries.” This was fortuitous because Jennifer and Olive Oyl were making out big-time and Vibro most likely would’ve killed Jennifer on the spot.

  “What are they doing?”

  Sparky was stuck for an answer on that one. Should she tell Vibro that Jennifer was straddling Olive Oyl and kissing her or should she lie? The ethical dilemma must have announced itself on Sparky’s face because Vibro swiveled in her chair and saw them. Her face turned red, and if Sparky were Jennifer she would’ve run before Vibro’s murderous rage had a chance to be converted into action.

  Instead, Vibro took off her hat and released the movie camera from its cradle of electrical tape. She got up.

  “Vibro, don’t, please don’t do anything rash.”

  In a calm voice, Vibro said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She walked over to where Jennifer and Olive Oyl were having sex with their clothes on. “Excuse me, ladies, would you like your photos taken? I’m making a movie and you two would be perfect for it.”

  “Really?” Jennifer said delighted, until it registered who the oddly dressed woman was. “Vibro?”

  “None other than. You can come get your clothes tomorrow.”

  “Vibro, wait,” Jennifer said, trying to untangle her limbs from Olive Oyl, which was proving difficult.

  “She’s all yours,” Vibro said to Olive Oyl.

  She walked back over to Sparky. “C’mon, partner, let’s get out of here before I strangle her.”

  Sparky scrambled to her feet, picked up Vibro’s hat and went after her. So did Jennifer. Sparky stopped her. “She is suppressing the urge to throttle you. I wouldn’t go anywhere near her.”

  Jennifer stopped. “Really, she’s that mad at me?” It appeared Jennifer thought this was odd.

  “She did catch you red-handed necking with another woman.”

  “That was just messing around.”

  “Not from Vibro’s point of view. Maybe you should stay with your friend tonight.”

  “But…”

  Sparky left her standing there, looking bereft. Perhaps it really had just been a dalliance, but it was too late now to remedy what Jennifer had done to Vibro’s heart.

  They got in the car and Vibro was silent. Sparky didn’t start the car—it didn’t seem prudent until she knew what Vibro was going to do.

  “I think that went well, don’t you?” Vibro said.

  Sparky nodded.

  “I got what I wanted.”

  Sparky nodded.

  Vibro burst into tears. Sparky held her. She wasn’t good at stuff like this. Wesson had bred it out of her. No one cried in their house or if you did it was remarked upon with scorn. But holding Vibro felt good. It also felt right and that scared her.

  When Vibro stopped crying and started sniffling, Sparky dug around in the glove box and came up with a packet of Kleenex. Vibro blew her nose and looked meekly at Sparky. “Thank you. I told myself that I wouldn’t do this.”

  “It’s all right. That wasn’t a fun thing to see. Wanna go home and change the locks?”

  Vibro sat quiet for a moment, apparently thinking.

  “We don’t have to,” Sparky said.

  “No, we do. If I don’t, she’ll worm her way back in with or without video confirmation. If she can’t get in, I stand a better chance. I want to do this, Sparky. Tell me I can.”

  Sparky pointed at her still blood-splotched right eye. “I did. And you know what? It’s not as hard as you think. Besides, you’ve got me. I’m kind of like that door prize you didn’t expect to get but decide you might like later.”

  “I do like you. Come on let’s get out of here before Jennifer starts scouring the parking lot,” Vibro said.

  Sparky didn’t think she would. It seemed like Jennifer would be going home with the other woman for tonight at least.

  “Do we need to stop and get lock stuff?” Vibro said. She blew her nose.

  “Nope. I’m the building maintenance person. I’ve got locks.”

  “Are they brushed nickel? I always wanted a brushed nickel doorknob.” She sniffled.

  “We better go shopping. Lowes is open until ten,” Sparky said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Problem with Baking

  Cheryl had had a particularly difficult day. She’d spent most of it sewing up gang members who gone at each other with a series of kitchen implements. She was tired. On the drive home she’d thought about child rearing. How was it that a group of twelve-year-olds from a public school could form gangs and have a knife and fork fight over tater tots? There had been much talk over the fact that the children
had had knives—butter knives. It was amazing the amount of damage one could do with a butter knife and a fork.

  She parked the car and tried to reorient her attitude to one of happy partner and relaxed parent. To this end, she took ten deep breaths. As she got out of the car, she was almost knocked to the ground by Jennifer, who came flying past her, heels clicking on the pavement, her big red purse swinging from side to side so violently that it had almost clipped Cheryl as she passed.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Cheryl asked.

  Jennifer burst into tears and hopped in her car. She hit one of the blue plastic recycling containers on the way out.

  Cheryl shook her head. She hoped small children and the elderly stayed clear of Jennifer because at the moment she was clearly a public safety hazard. On the way to her apartment she met Vibro, who was peeking around the corner at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Is she still out there?” Vibro said, looking over Cheryl’s shoulder.

  “If you mean Jennifer, no, she’s not, but we might need a new recycling container. She ran ours over and one of the wheels popped off.”

  “It’s always about her. Never mind we have to live with the aftermath of not having a recycling bin.” Vibro put her arms akimbo.

  “Did you guys have a disagreement or something?”

  “We had a doozy. I changed the locks or rather Sparky did, and suffice it to say Jennifer doesn’t have a key. I caught her cheating and threw her out.”

  “So you’re done.”

  “Yes. I’m done.”

  “Good.”

  Vibro bit her lip. “She was really mad?”

  “Don’t equivocate,” Cheryl said.

  “I won’t.”

  “Vibro?”

  “Yes?”

  “This isn’t going to be pretty. If you need any help, you’ll call, right?”

  She nodded.

  Cheryl heard the door from the parking lot open and Sparky came in. The universe was perhaps conspiring to keep Jennifer out and get Sparky in, she thought, watching Vibro’s face light up.

  “Jennifer came and banged on the door and said a lot of nasty things,” Vibro said, her lip quivering.