by T. J. Mines
CHAPTER FOUR
Together with Greta, Abdul walks through the underground tunnels. The feel of the place is more like a busy indoor marketplace Abdul knows from home. In the streets between the basement shops are street vendors selling anything from souvenirs to food and even pets. Most of the people down at this time are tourists looking for a place to eat. Locals are a minority and seem to be walking with purpose.
Walking past a large basement near the hostel laughter erupts. The sign outside says "Comedy Club" and a poster shows the line-up for tonight. Next door is a blank wall and a single door. The sign only shows the number 1.
"What's that?" Abdul asks Greta, pointing at the building.
"That's the nightclub we'll be going to tonight!" Greta answers, "It's the best in town, really!"
"What kind of club is it?"
"Haven't you been to a nightclub before?" Greta looks at Abdul with a frown.
"No," Abdul answers in truth, "I've never gone out in my life. My friends and I played card games or domino's at home."
"Wow, that's boring!"
"No it isn't!" Abdul defends himself, "It's as fun as the people you're with."
"I guess," Greta concedes, "but still, it is way more fun to dance and flirt and drink!"
"I don't know," Abdul says, "as long as the people are nice to you."
"Who cares if people are nice! Just give away some alcohol and everybody likes you. Or if they don't, just ignore them and dance with someone else. Plenty of willing fish in the sea."
"I'll see if I like it. If I don't, I'll go back to the hostel."
"You'll like it," Gretta assures him, "I'll take care of that. But first we eat."
While they were talking the couple walked on and Greta steered them towards a noodles shop. There she enters.
"Hello people! Here I am again!" She shouts on the top of her lungs.
Some of the customers inside look up annoyed but the employees and a group in the back greet her like she's a long lost friend. A man with a white shirt and black pants walks up to her.
"Hi Greta, how are you?" he asks her.
"Great! Look, I found a new friend!" She points at Abdul. "This is Abdul, he's nice but not very experienced."
"I see," the man says. He looks at Abdul. "Nice to meet you Abdul. I'm Paul and this is my noodle shop. Enjoy yourself and if you need something, just ask."
"Thank you," Abdul answers.
Looking around the shop Abdul can see several customers enjoying a bowl of noodles. Some of them are Asian but they are a minority. The decor is clean and white with neon lighting all around. The harsh contrast between the illumination and glossy walls creates a mood Abdul wouldn't associate with fine dining.
Greta takes Abdul by the hand and drags him across the restaurant to the back. The group there greets her and after plenty of kisses and a few hugs she introduces Abdul. The introductions go too fast for him and as soon as he's heard all names he forgot them again.
Greta pushes Abdul into a chair and takes place next to him. She shoves a menu in his hands and waves over Paul to start ordering.
"Yeah, I'll have the chicken noodles with pan fried tomatoes and a side of beef bouillon. Oh, and a bottle of white, of course." She pokes an elbow in Abdul's side. "What are you going to get?" she asks.
"I don't know yet, I haven't looked at the menu," he answers.
"Don't bother," she says and turns to the owner, "He'll have the same, but no wine. He'll have a beer."
Paul looks at Abdul who shrugs. He smiles at Abdul and walks away to relay the order to the kitchen.
"Now, what have you been up to?" Greta asks the man on the other side of her. They strike up a conversation while Abdul is left by himself to socialize.
Across from him is a woman with gray hair. She's not old, he can see that in her eyes, but she pretends to be. She has painted wrinkles all over he face. The man next to her has done the same. They are chatting about grandchildren. Abdul doesn't want to get involved with that topic so he looks to the person on his left.
The girl sitting there looks at him and gives a small smile. She is wearing her brown hair in a ponytail, her curls erupting from her head. Her eyes are a light shade of brown, lined with heavy black make-up. Her skin is almost white, as if she's never seen the sun, offset by her lips painted a bright red. Her outfit is very tight and all black except for two red dots on her shoulder. The jacket she is wearing shows off her large breasts, pushed up from below.
"Hi," says Abdul, returning his gaze from her chest to her eyes.
"Hi," she answers, "Jo-Ann, in case you forgot already."
Abdul looks down in shame.
"I did forget," he says, "but I won't now."
"I bet you won't. So, what brings you to Du Bois?" she asks.
"Vacation, and you?"
"For me it's work."
"Do you live here?" Abdul asks.
"No, I don't," she answers, "I'm from the west."
"The west? From Anglais?" Abdul never would have thought to meet someone from the former isles of England. The region has been in turmoil for as long as he lived, and longer. As the ice came down the seas retreated and bared the land once called The Channel. It now features a graveyard full of old ships, mines from wars long forgotten and the remnants of the exodus from the north. What once had been a strong country fell apart and now the cities left there are in full anarchy.
"Yes, I come from London."
Abdul can only stare at Jo-Ann. London is rumored to be all but gone. Great husks of former glory is all that's left there after the riots, bombings and diseases did their part.
Seeing Abdul stare the small smile returns on Jo-Ann's face.
"I know the rumors. They are only partly true."
"But," Abdul starts.
Jo-Ann rolls her eyes.
"Yes, everything top-side is in ruins. But we, just as the people here, are living underground now. The old metro systems have been converted into a great town by itself. I have been living underground for most of my life. In fact, I hadn't seen the sun or a sky before I came here."
"Wow," Abdul keeps on staring, "that must be a terrible life!"
"On the contrary," Jo-Ann laughs, "do you know how daunting the sky is when you've never seen it before? Or how bright the sun? It burned my skin the first time I got top-side, even in the shade. After only a few minutes I had to cover myself or else be scarred for life."
"Oh," exclaims Abdul, "I didn't think about it like that. That must have been even worse! I know that when during summer in Al Bari I stay out too long I get burned too. But it takes a few hours for me, and I never get scars from it."
"Yes, but you have been living in the sun all your life, and your parents too, right?"
"That's true, my whole family has been living in Al Bari for a lot of generations."
"So you are build to take the sun. My family has been living in the underground for over 5 generations, giving me the disadvantage of genetics when it comes to sunlight. But I'm here, I made it."
"I can see that. And no scars at all," Abdul says, "well, as far as I can see."
Jo-Ann laughs again. "No, no scars."
Taking the chopsticks in the bowl in front of her she continues eating.
"What job do you have that takes you here?" Abdul asks.
Her eyes harden, the sparkle from laughing before all but gone.
"I'm a consultant," she says, dismissing the subject, and putting a large chunk of meat in her mouth.
"Oh, that sounds, uh, interesting."
Jo-Ann chomps down on her food. Before the piece in her mouth is gone she puts in another.
"I make baskets," Abdul tries to restart the conversation.
Jo-Ann nods but keeps eating. Abdul looks at Greta who is talking to the guy in front of her.
"As I was telling Abdul here earlier," Greta says, "we must go to the club tonight."
"I'm game," the guy says, "how about you Jo-Ann?"
"Sure, why not,"
Jo-Ann answers.
Then Abdul's food arrives. During his meal he talks to some of the other people at the table. He drinks his first beers in his life and generates a good laugh around the table at that. Throughout the meal he stays interested in Jo-Ann, but can't get through to her.
After diner Greta and Abdul walk back to the hostel. They are joined by a small group of Greta's friends who are staying at the same place. Jo-Ann, staying in another part of town, leaves them at the door.
Looking back at the other group she can see Abdul watching her. They spoke a bit during diner. She could see Abdul wasn't used to alcohol at all, which would be logical since alcohol is prohibited in Al Bari. After the first few sips of his beer he loosened up, talking about everything he could think of. Strange that people like that just open up and spill their whole life without even thinking about the person they are talking too.
Jo-Ann met Greta and the group the first day she was in town. She was strolling down a street, window shopping, when she saw the group standing in front of a movie theater. Jo-Ann needed some people to join and these seemed to fit her needs. All of them close to her own age, tourists, and not afraid to spend money. That last observation came from the argument they were having. They all wanted to pay for the whole group. Of course, one of them would eventually have to pay or they would miss the movie. So she stepped up to the register, bought tickets for the whole group and stopped the argument handing out the tickets. After that, she was one of them.
She's been with them for a few days now, eating at the same places every day, going out every day to the same club. It was getting boring, but it suits her purpose. It was her who proposed the number 1 club the first night she joined them. She has business there. And, if all goes well, tonight would be her last night there.
Jo-Ann has never been one to dress up, but for this mission she went all out on the attractive side of her. Accentuating her assets to distract people from her intentions, making sure she was the center of attention whenever she needs it. So for her final night at the club she bought herself a short dress, just long enough to cover her ass. The strap behind her neck pushing her breasts against each other and the sheer fabric almost showing her nipples. The dress, bordering on slutty for her taste, should turn heads everywhere. To finish it off she got gloves up to her elbows and leather boots to match. The heels of her boots sharp enough to kill a man. At her hotel room, private of course, she freshens up before getting ready for the night.
"Greta," Abdul asks as they walk back to the hostel, "weren't we going to the club?"
Abdul feels a bit unsteady as he walks. The beer seems to have gone to his knees. Is that normal? He doesn't know. At least he finished the beer. The taste was awful. He'll never drink a beer again.
"Yes, we are, silly. We just have to get changed first. Remember my dress?"
Abdul thinks back to earlier. Greta did have that new dress.
"Oh yes, the black dress," he says. Looking down at his own garments he wonders if he should change. This is the finest he has, so this must be good enough.
Greta sees him looking at himself, doubt painted on his face.
"Yes, what you are wearing is good enough, for now," she says with a smile.
At the hostel the group members go to their dorms to get a shower and change. Abdul and Greta go up to their dorm, being the only ones of their group to stay there.
"I'm gonna take a shower and change," Greta says, "You take it easy but don't fall asleep! I will wake you and take you with me!" She giggles and takes the dress from her bed on the way to the showers.
Abdul, not wanting to sleep but feeling the effects of the alcohol, decides cold water would be best for him now. He grabs a towel from his bed and goes into the showers too. There he finds Greta removing her make-up. Her shirt is on the ground, showing her in her bra and tight trousers. She does have a nice set of boobs, although not as big as Jo-Ann's.
Abdul wonders at what he has seen on his short stay at Du Bois already. He has drunk alcohol, which he has never done before, seen women up close showing stuff you'd get arrested for in Al Bari, and now he's standing in the same bathroom as an almost naked girl. He has had sex before, everyone he knows has, but this is different. This is freedom at the purest level. Where he had to be careful not to get caught in Al Bari, here he can openly stare at a girl's body, even stand close to it, in a private place. Then a piece of soap hits his head.
"Ouch!" he exclaims.
"Don't stare!" Greta teases him while puffing out her chest to show herself off even better, "take a shower or go back to your bunk."
Confused, Abdul opens one of the shower stalls and undresses. The cold shower is working, his head clears and his arousal subsides. He doesn't get this woman. She openly flirts with him, shows him stuff he shouldn't see and still rebukes him for looking. This is so much different from home. Not better though. At home the people are decent and modest. And alcohol isn't at all what it's supposed to be. Being here like this only confuses Abdul.
In the stall next to him the water starts running too. Greta must be in there now, washing herself, naked. Trying not to think of her Abdul finishes his shower and towels himself dry. Putting on his pants he almost slips on the wet floor, banging his head against the board separating the two stalls.
"No peeking!" Greta laughs.
Later that night Jo-Ann gets back with the rest of the group at the club. They meet outside, next to the line of waiting guests. Greta greets her with a peck on the cheek. Jo-Ann can feel her envy at the dress she's wearing.
"Nice dress!" Greta says.
"Yours too," Jo-Ann compliments. She does like the dress. It has a lot more class than her own slutty rag, although hers would be the more expensive.
"Follow me!" Greta announces, sticking a hand up in the air holding a handkerchief like a guide. The rest of the group laughs and do as she tells them. Jo-Ann, less inclined to follow orders, joins the back of the group. She ends up next to Abdul again. He smiles at her but his focus is at Greta. Jo-Ann doesn't know what they did between diner and now, and doesn't want to know, but it must have made Abdul as horny as hell. He looks like her lapdog, his constant focus on her.
It doesn't matter to Jo-Ann, let them do what they want. Her mission tonight is more important. And Greta, with her no-nonsense attitude at the entrance of the club, can help her get the job done. Getting into club One is not easy. You have to pay a fee to even get screened. Your actions in Du Bois are checked and your credit balance must be at least high enough to buy a bottle of vintage champagne. Unless you are with Greta. How she did it Jo-Ann doesn't know, but they let Greta, and everybody in her, into the club for free and without credit checks.
For Jo-Ann this is a bonus. Without Greta she would've gotten herself into the club without a problem, either through the front or the back door. Maybe the next time she has a job here she won't be so lucky. So Jo-Ann enjoys it while she can.
Walking through the entrance to the club Abdul brushes against her shoulder. He looks at her and apologizes. He is so sweet and naive. She takes his arm. Abdul's focus on Greta waivers. Looking down on the lady at his arm he can only see the nakedness of her breasts. She flaunts them at him and strokes his arm as they walk into the club.
Jo-Ann needs someone to escort her this evening. Abdul, unaccustomed as he is to the wild nightlife of Du Bois, will do just fine. It does help Greta already buttered him up for her. Until she can complete her job she needs a man for all other men in the club to be jealous of. The one guy worthy of all her attention. The one guy who will be most likely to bed her that night.
Abdul feels like a millionaire right now. He has been seduced by Greta, who looks great in her dress, and out of it too. Now she gets him into his first nightclub for free and as a bonus, the now most sexy of all the women in the group chose him to get into the club.
Walking through the front door his entire world exists of Jo-Ann, Greta almost forgotten. He doesn't even look around to see what's inside. Not
until they pass another set of doors and enter the club's top floor.
Strobes, colored lights, music with a deep bass, and hundreds of people moving up and down on the three floors down the grand stairs. The stairs go straight down and end on the dance floor. The men and women there move in time with the pulsing music, pretending to have sex. Or is this what the see as dancing here? It looks exciting.
Jo-Ann turns to him and moves her mouth closer to his head.
"Do you want a drink?" Jo-Ann asks him over the loud music.
"Sure, something without alcohol please," he answers.
"Iced tea?"
"Yes please." Abdul smiles at her.
Jo-Ann steers them towards the bar at the top balcony and takes an empty seat. He stands next to her as she orders two drinks, both iced teas.
"Don't you want to drink?" he asks her.
"What?" Jo-Ann grabs his arm and moves him closer to her, putting her bare leg between his own trousered ones.
"Don't you want to drink alcohol?" he asks her again, now loud enough for her to hear him.
"No, alcohol clouds my mind, makes me dance like a crippled donkey." She winks at him.
Laughing at the joke he takes his drink. Before he can sip from the glass she taps her glass against his.
"Cheers!" she says and nips.
As she drinks her spiked iced tea Jo-Ann looks around. Her mark is not yet inside. Makes it easier for her to find him since he can only enter from two sides of the club, both in plain sight from her current position. She'll wait here and make conversation with Abdul until the man she needs is here. Only then can she know if her plan will work. She needs him on the dance floor to execute her move against him. The security policy in the club is to ban all weapons of all types, for all guests. They were scanned at the entrance for contraband and would've been kicked out if they'd had anything illegal.