by Anthology
Hell, I would have taken all my nieces and nephews to see the show if I knew she would be there, mostly because it might look creepy if I went by myself at a family show sporting a hard dick. My brother’s rambunctious kids would make sure that was impossible.
“Uh-huh. I keep in touch with Muriel, and she told me the Rockettes were looking for backup dancers. A few sprained ankles and she got me another chance to audition.” The smile that punctuated her cheeks lit up the interior of the diner and my heart swelled for her.
“Eso es maravilloso. Estoy muy orgulloso de ti!”
Giggling, she said, “I have no idea what you just said to me, so I hope it was nice.”
I should have said something naughty in that case, but you never know when a girl will turn to the Internet and translate shit.
Smiling back, I replied, “I said, that’s wonderful, I’m so proud of you, Tempest.”
“Thank you.” She ducked her head down shyly and refilled my coffee. I was going to leave here still hungry and hopped up on caffeine for the rest of my shift.
Tempest
The Gemini officially closed at 2 a.m., and after filling all my salt and pepper shakers and the ketchup bottles, I was able to leave by 2:30 a.m. Waitressing wasn’t overly hard, but the hours on my feet left my legs throbbing. Luckily I had a studio apartment several blocks over. Seeing Officer Hernandez, or Joey as I forced myself to think of him, made the night go by quicker. Every two weeks we worked a similar schedule of nights on the same rotation. I looked forward to seeing the way he filled out his uniform that gave me goosebumps and naughty thoughts to carry me through until the next time I saw him. And the way he spoke to me…holy moly, it was hot the way his tongue rolled off speaking Spanish. He made me hot and flustered like no one else listening to his slight accent. Big muscles bulged under his uniform shirt and hints of tattoos edged the rim of his collar and sleeves. I wondered what he had on underneath there and what it might take to find out.
I practically skipped home thinking about my audition. Soon I would have a chance to be an official Rockette dancing on a stage I dreamed about in my small twin bed across the river in Jersey growing up. I was so close to dancing in the legendary line I could taste it. I could hear the clicking of heels and feel the sweep of a high kick pirouetting to the contemporary choreography. The stuff that had fueled my little girl daydreams was conceivably going to be a reality. I danced in a circle, adding a hop to the end, and turned the corner gasping.
“Shit! Mr. Walker!”
Old hands grabbed me around the shoulders, keeping me from face planting after having the shit scared out of me.
“Sorry, Miss Tempest. I was just moving from the park to the doorway here.” Thomas Walker was homeless, nearing his sixties. He preferred the solitary life on the streets, bouncing from park to park instead of the shelter down the street, after battling years of mental illness. He was a war veteran who wore a worn olive green coat and a long facial beard grayed with time. Even his boots looked like they had battled.
“You frightened me. I didn’t expect anyone to be there.”
“No worries, Tempest. I saw your friend patrolling the park and figured I’d make his job easier.” Mr. Walker must have meant Officer Hernandez or someone from the precinct on tonight. There was a no sleeping in the park ordinance and many of the homeless in the city had been displaced over the past few years during the mayor’s neighborhood clean-up initiative.
“I should have taken some pie for you, Mr. Walker.”
“Another time, Tempest.” His gap toothed smile was warm and he squeezed my hands reassuringly. “Make sure you get home safe.” He brushed past me, carrying his duffle bag and settled into the nook of the shop doorway where he muttered to himself. He was harmless and friendly and he’d been around for years. I wondered if he’d had any family and made a note to grab a slice of pumpkin pie for him after my next shift. I figured everyone could use a kindness; the world was a tough enough place without anyone to call your family or friend. Thanksgiving was approaching and I hoped he found a safe place as the weather turned colder each night.
One block and I would be home for the night. My knee-length coat was zipped up to my chin and the air was crisp on my stocking clad legs. Seeing Joey had been a thrill and maybe I’d put on my dance shoes despite how tired my feet were and practice in my apartment. Chuck had given me the day off for my audition and everyone was rooting for me. I might even be able to quit working regular hours at the diner if I made the Rockette’s troupe of dancers. Finally I’d be on my way and all those part-time jobs, auditions, and holding out hope for a miracle would pay off.
The pain that slammed into my middle caught me off guard as did the pull on my hair. “Bitch!” Rough hands dragged me away from the sidewalk in between two buildings before I remembered to struggle, kicking out.
“No!”
A resounding slap hit my cheek and burned the skin from the cold. Thick arms grabbed me around the middle and pulled me back. Helpless, I screamed before his dirty hand covered my mouth to silence me.
“Quiet or I’ll hurt you.” Words didn’t register, but my dreams of dancing under hot, bright lights and Joey’s face flashed in my head like fleeting thoughts. I fought against my attacker as if grasping onto those visions. He slapped me, hit me, and my body was tossed hard against the brick facade, jarring my body.
“No! Help!”
He came at me again, this time pushing me to the ground, my knee hitting hard and my stockings ripping. A green city dumpster was behind me on black asphalt, the stench tempered by the wind and temperature of the night.
I crawled back, tripping over my damn legs; the most ungraceful I’d ever been in my life. He stood over me, wearing all black and a cotton face mask that hid his identity.
“Leave her alone.” It was Mr. Walker, the homeless man who’d come to my rescue holding something in his hand, a pipe maybe or a board, I couldn’t tell.
“Or what, old man?”
“I’ve killed plenty in my lifetime. Yours wouldn’t bother me.” The pregnant pause that followed stopped my heart. My attacker spat at me and took off running. I scrambled to get up and out of the alley. Grime was imbedded in my palms and my knee felt unsteady and swollen.
My face hurt in the cold wind. In fact, everything hurt. Tears threatened, but the shock was worse. “I can’t believe this happened.” Scared I wanted nothing more than to pack up and flee. I couldn’t afford a place in a better neighborhood until I turned my audition into a paying job.
“Let’s get you home, Miss Tempest.” Mr. Walker escorted me to my apartment and helped me walk up the stairs. I sat down at my dinette table, and he puttered around my kitchen, heating up water on my hotplate for tea.
“Thank you, Mr. Walker.”
“It was no trouble.” He said that now, but I didn’t doubt that Mr. Walker would have hit that man attacking me. “Let’s get you cleaned up and settled.”
The sweet hot tea kept me from shaking and I managed to wash out my cuts decently, taking a pain reliever to help.
“You be careful walking home, Miss Tempest.” Mr. Walker left, telling me to lock up my door.
I peeked through my window and watched him bunker down near my building sheltered from the wind, watching, waiting. I didn’t realize how foolishly optimistic I had been until it was almost snatched away from me.
I didn’t go to my audition the next day, or work for the following week. My face was bruised, my knee swollen and immobile. I called Chuck, begging my boss to give me diner shifts during the day. Standing and bearing weight on my leg took longer than planned before I could carry heavy trays of food without dropping them. I was avoiding Officer Hernandez and life altogether. My dreams were dashed by the irrational fear of something happening after dark, and when a month had passed, my landlord placed a notice in my box, letting me know I was behind on my rent and could be evicted if I didn’t catch up soon.
Anxiety coursed through me nonstop and
I was lucky I didn’t turn into someone completely homebound by the event. I was barely scratching out an existence, terrified of the shadows no one else could understand. I thought about going to the police station to report it, but by the time I gathered my wits, I was embarrassed. I couldn’t stomach Joey Hernandez taking my statement or assessing me with his dark eyes in pity. Mr. Walker and I talked about it several times, debating between his bouts of lucidity. I hadn’t been raped. Nothing had been stolen. I was roughed up by a punk walking home in the wee hours of the morning with my only witness a homeless man who suffered from schizophrenia when he wasn’t on his medications.
“Tempest, you got a minute?” I filled up the counter mugs with coffee, turning to see Denise handing Chuck a lunch ticket. She was one of the other waitresses that split the morning shift with me.
“Sure.” Nervously, I wiped my hands against my skirt.
“I, uh, heard you had a problem a few weeks ago.” Denise raised her dark eyebrows, and I glanced back at Chuck, pissed he would tell anyone my business.
“Some. I’m okay, though.” Gritting my teeth, I smiled for show.
“Look, I know the lunch crowd around here doesn’t tip for shit, and I know you’re a dancer and all.”
I was a dancer. I used to be happy. Heck, I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t going to clarify that when I barely got the swing back into my hips.
“I’ll manage.”
Chuck dinged the bell, and I went to collect my plate for a counter customer, glad it wasn’t a large tray of heavy food I still couldn’t manage.
“Here.” Denise ripped off a ticket from her waitressing book, handing it to me.
“What’s this?” Flipping it over, I saw that she scribbled the number to a place called Dollhouse.
“Listen, sometimes the money gets tight and dancing a few hours on a Saturday night makes up for the coffee stains and sticky counters. Take it or leave it.” She brushed past me, setting her plates down at a table of construction workers on break.
I thought about it, slipping the paper into my apron. I wanted to fix my own problems without having to run away. I wanted to dance again when the fear stopped controlling me. Attempting to rip the Band-Aid off my warring anxiety, I decided to call on my break and see what all the fuss was about.
Joey
“Joey, come on, we’re gonna be late!” My brother grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pushed me out the door to the waiting rented SUV he conned me into driving for the night. The air was crisp, waiting to snow, and it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, as close to amateur night as we could get for this bachelor party.
“Relax, papi.” I shrugged him off and slid inside checking my mirrors before pulling out onto the roadway.
My brother Emmanuel tried passing me an open container of alcohol. “Don’t be an idiot, Manny.” I pushed it back glaring at him. He shrugged in that annoying way older brothers do before capping the top. I wasn’t about to get in trouble for anyone tonight.
“We just have to grab Julio, Brendan, and Orson.” My brother smiled. This was all his idea to go to some seedy strip joint for Julio’s bachelor party. I was just the tagalong driver, taking off my usual nightshift for this. I figured Hudson owed me and part of me was happy to hear the chief chew his ass out after the past few weeks. Honestly, I would have preferred to be working instead of being the designated babysitter for my brother’s friends, but here we were.
A night of drinking, gambling, and women would have been fun, but I had to put up with these guys in exchange. I loved my brother, but I couldn’t afford to get caught up in shit given my job, which I valued above all else.
We headed to a shithole area of the hood and met up with some other guys who were invited to the wedding. There were a lot of bro hugs and drinks poured from the bar. Emmanuel was already two drinks ahead of me and pounding down a third.
“Hey, Manny, take it easy, or are you planning on going home early? Mami give you a curfew?”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Joey.”
We teased each other and ordered some shots for Julio, who was currently draped over two scantily clad women wearing cheap stilettos and thongs.
“How’s work going for you?”
We leaned over the bar, and I contemplated what I might say. Manny wanted to know about the fun stuff, but that wasn’t why I did the job.
“I like it. My chief is a good guy. My lieutenant is an asshole, but someone has to be. It’s more than just writing parking tickets.”
Manny nodded, sipping his drink slowly.
I thought about how busy I had been on this night shift rotation. Mike and I had brought in a mugger from the park thanks to Mr. Walker, our resident park dweller, giving us the heads-up. Some said he was crazy, like my lieutenant, but I’d rather follow a lead than do nothing. It felt good to get people like that off the street, away from terrorizing innocent people.
“Hey, looks like the show is starting.” Manny pointed to the guys, who pulled Julio into a VIP lounge that looked over the club. The place was a dive between the cheesy porn music, which I guess was expected at a club, poor stage lighting to hide the dancers’ ages or flaws, and the strong drinks to encourage more money spent.
“Have a seat, the girls are coming up.”
All the guys sat on couches that looked tainted, and I took up my spot against the wall, sipping my drink, wishing we could have bar hopped and ended up at the Cask and Barrel or somewhere closer to home that wasn’t going to require a full decontamination. Several dancers and bottles of liquor later, I was more than ready to bounce.
“Hey, pretty thing, come over here.”
Ignoring the conversation around me, I looked at my phone, texting my partner to see how he was holding up with Hudson tonight.
“I’m sorry. I just serve drinks.” The soft voice was muffled by the music, and Mike responded back, letting me know that at least Hudson had picked up dinner. Dinner made me think of Tempest and how I hadn’t seen her in a month. I missed her.
“Not tonight, you don’t.” Julio was being an ass, and the guys were chuckling, egging him on.
“I said I only serve the drinks.” The girl, whose face I didn’t see when I looked up, was pulling herself out of Julio’s grasp.
I didn’t want to step in, but he was being inappropriate, and I couldn’t stand for that.
“It’s my party and I want you to dance. Vamos, niña.” He patted his lap, and I shook my head, willing the girl to leave with her now empty drink tray. Julio under the influence was nothing but trouble, and a pain in my ass.
“No.”
“Julio, the girl said no. Déjala en paz.”
Julio had better leave the girl alone. His drunk ass was testing my patience, friend or not.
“Mierda, voy a agarrar su coño si quiero.”
The fact that he thought he could just grab a girl’s pussy in a club or anywhere and get away with it was disgusting. That was definitely not happening. I slipped my phone in my pocket, ready to drag his ass out of the club and toss him in the car.
“Joey, he’s drunk. Come on.” Manny was trying to get me to leave, but I wasn’t leaving a helpless woman in this room with Julio, especially not after she said no.
Shaking my brother off, I looked into scared blue eyes I hadn’t seen in a month and my rage exploded.
“We’re leaving.” I pushed my brother away and grabbed Tempest by the arm, taking in her ridiculous outfit. Black heels, fishnet stockings, black bootie shorts that covered nothing, and a black bra under a barely there black tank top. It was criminal for her to be out like this and the ingrained machismo I fought internally wanted to go all caveman, but I knew better than that and I wasn’t going to sink down to Julio’s level.
“Please, let me go.”
“Cariño…” I guided her out of the VIP room and outside of the club to the street, forgetting she had no jacket. Snowflakes fell from the sky, covering the garish outfit, almost washing it away. Crysta
ls peppered her red hair and stuck to her eyelashes and nose.
“Joey, I have to g-go b-ack in-inside.” Tempest shivered, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“No, cariño. You’re not going back in there until you tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s freezing out here.” She’s was right. I couldn’t keep her out here demanding answers.
“Hey, asshole, hands off the girl.” A bouncer from the club followed us, and I was in no mood for a fight, justified or not it would get my ass in hot water at work.
“Go back inside.” I pulled out my badge and flashed it, letting the gold glint in the moonlight.
“Hey, hey, it’s all good.” The guy threw his hands up in the air, retreating, and my anger intensified thinking that this bouncer would just take me at my badge and leave Tempest unprotected.
Whatever, I had no plans to let her return here if I could help it. I was so pissed in the moment that I pulled her along the sidewalk until we got to the rented SUV. I pulled out the keys getting it started, cranking up the heat. My brother and his dumbass friends could call a taxi.
“Tempest. Talk to me.” I drove the car abiding every speed limit and traffic law, giving her some space and me time to sort my thoughts. Her arms wrapped around her middle protectively.
“What do you want me to say? I’m mortified you saw me in there and now I’m probably going to lose my job.”
All things considered, I wouldn’t mind if she lost her job there because I wouldn’t have to worry about idiots trying to hurt her.
“Why are you working there? Actually, why haven’t I seen you at the diner?” Maybe she was struggling. Maybe there was something else I didn’t know about.
“Chuck lets me work the breakfast and lunch shifts.”