by Steph Post
The woman smoothed her stubby fingers across the newspaper and smiled.
“You hear that, Oswald? You need to keep your eyes open today.”
Judah glanced around the store one more time and then cautiously approached the counter.
“Uh, ma’am? I was hoping you could help us with something.”
She held up a finger to silence him.
“Hold on. Oswald is a Sagittarius and always needs to know his lucky numbers.”
She squinted at the newspaper and drew her finger down the page.
“Here we go. Seventeen, thirty-three, two. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to pick up a lotto on the way home today. You know I always do.”
Judah thought about backing away slowly, but the woman abruptly closed the newspaper and folded her hands on top of it. She looked up at him through her fringe of bangs and blinked furiously.
“Yes? Can I help you?”
Judah just stood there, not sure what to do. The woman pointed to the tanks against the window.
“The tetras are on sale this week. No guarantee on them, but they’re a good deal. Tell your friends to quit tapping on the glass, though. It upsets them.”
Alvin and Gary jumped back and put their hands in their pockets. They slunk away to inspect the kiddie pool full of hermit crabs. The woman pursed her already puckered lips, making her faint mustache even more pronounced.
“Let me guess. You ain’t here for the tetra sale.”
Judah shook his head.
“Ah, no. But, um, could you tell me…”
He had to know.
“…who is Oswald?”
The woman looked at Judah as if he’d just stepped off an alien spaceship.
“Oswald? You got eyes, ain’t you? He’s right here.”
The woman lightly caressed a round, glass aquarium perched on the edge of the counter. Judah came closer and peered through the cloudy water. The back of the tank had been painted black and it was hard to see inside.
“What am I looking at?”
The woman huffed.
“He’s right there, in that crevice. No, right there.”
Judah looked where the woman was pointing. A tiny octopus, its tentacles curled up around its bluish body, was resting between a rock and miniature treasure chest. The octopus opened an eye.
“Oh, I see. He’s, um, cute.”
The woman beamed at Judah.
“He sure is. And my name is Velma, by the way. And this is my store. And I’d put money on the fact that you’re in the wrong Stingrays.”
Judah sighed in relief.
“So there’s another one?”
Velma picked up a ballpoint pen and started chewing on the plastic cap.
“Yeah. Let me guess, you’re looking for the titty bar across town.”
Judah nodded.
“Yes. I mean, not that we don’t like fish and all. And Oswald, I mean, he’s great. But yeah, we need to get to the other Stingrays. Can you give us directions?”
The woman sucked on the end of the pen and then pointed it toward Alvin and Gary.
“If you tell them to stop kicking the side of the pool. The crabs don’t like it.”
Judah whirled around and shot Alvin and Gary a threatening look. They backed away from the pool and stood aimlessly in the middle of the store. Judah turned to Velma and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“So, the other Stingrays?”
Velma chewed on the pen as she spoke.
“You’d be surprised at how many people come here looking for the strip club. I do half my business that way. They come through the door looking for pussy, but they leave with a goldfish. The goldfish ain’t on sale today, though. Just the tetras. And I guess I could give you a deal on a hermit crab if you bought the whole kit.”
Judah shook his head.
“No, we just need directions.”
“That Stingrays club is something else, let me tell you. They actually got a dance floor set up on top of a shark tank. Got real baby sharks swimming in it. The poles are all screwed into the glass top and everything. My niece works over there and she says it’s just wild. You’re swinging on them poles and you look down and there’s a shark underneath you.”
“That’s interesting. So, how do we get there?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind giving that a try myself one of these days. Oh, you might think I’m past my prime, but they got all sorts over at Stingrays. I ain’t even fifty yet and my niece, Mitzy, says they got one gal there who’s fifty-five. The boys love it. You watch, I’m gonna try it one day. Just so I can look down and see those sharks.”
Judah nodded impatiently.
“Yep. Well, good for you. You said it’s across town?”
Velma put her hand on Oswald’s tank and stroked it absently.
“Sure is. Just take a right when you pull out of here and go south on Peninsula until you hit Main. You know, the street with Joyland and the Boardwalk at the end of it. The Ferris Wheel. It’s next to the Big Shark gift shop with all the bright orange and green fifty-percent-off signs in the windows. You can’t miss it. There’s so much neon popping off in that part of town it’s like to blind you.”
Judah turned to go.
“All the way south on Peninsula. Thanks.”
“Can’t miss it. You’ll pass Razzles and Lollipops on the way, but don’t get distracted. Their girls might be better, but they don’t got no shark tank.”
“Got it.”
“Something tells me you’re not looking for a lap dance, though.”
Judah froze.
“What’d you mean by that?”
Velma shrugged.
“You boys look nice. Even if your buddies there can’t keep their hands or feet to themselves. So, I’m just gonna toss this out there. If you’re looking for Weaver, be careful.”
Judah stared at Velma and spoke very carefully.
“Why would we be looking for Weaver?”
Velma shook her head.
“You just don’t seem like the type looking to pick up an STD tonight. You look more like the hotshot type trying to get in on a deal or something.”
Judah glanced over at Alvin and Gary, who were now keenly paying attention, and then looked warily back to Velma.
“You know Weaver?”
Velma tapped the pen against her teeth and shook her head again.
“I know of him. Mitzy’s said a few things. I don’t go in for any of that myself, but I take it he’s into the drugs. You know, the bad ones. Some kinda kingpin, like in a movie. Sounds funny maybe, but let me tell you, he put one of Mitzy’s friends in a dumpster last week because her boyfriend tried to screw him on a score. Who knows what happened to the boyfriend. Maybe they got a bigger tank somewhere and Weaver fed him to the grown-up sharks. From the things I’ve heard, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit. So just be careful, okay. Like I said, you seem like nice boys. I’d hate to read about you in the papers.”
Judah nodded grimly.
“We’ll be careful.”
Velma pointed at the tank beside her on the counter.
“And Oswald likes you. He wouldn’t want to have to read about it in the papers, neither.”
Benji wobbled as he struggled to find the right key on the ring, jam it into the rusty lock and shoulder the door open. When it finally swung inward, Benji gripped the handles of his crutches and awkwardly edged through the door, leaving the keyring still jangling from the lock. Once inside, he had to stump around in a circle to close the door behind him and grope for the exposed light switch in the dark. By the time he flicked it, and the fluorescent panel above crackled to life, Benji was sweating. Just trudging through the soft, sandy dirt of the backyard had been a chore. He took a deep breath.
“Judah said that you killed his friend.”
Benji twisted on his crutches and turned around in the cramped space of the garden shed.
“But he was wrong. You killed my friend.”
Benji stabilized himself by
halfway leaning against a rusting push mower wedged into the cobwebbed corner. He yanked the .45 out of the front of his waistband and leveled it at Nash’s head. He thumbed the safety off and rested his elbow on the handle of his crutch to steady his aim. Benji hadn’t fired a gun since he was fourteen years old, and that had been a bolt-action hunting rifle, so he took it slow. He had already loaded the gun and made sure there was one in the chamber, and now he adjusted his hold, squinted, and then stretched his fingers out again before curling them back around the grip.
In the chair a few feet away from him, Nash was flailing around as much as he could. He was completely bound to the back of the chair from his shoulders down to his waist, but he strained against the nylon cord. He tried to scoot and hop away from Benji, and the metal chair legs scrapped a few inches against the concrete floor, but it didn’t matter. There wasn’t anywhere to go. Tortured, muffled sounds were escaping through the duct tape sealed over Nash’s mouth, but Benji barely noticed. He waited until he was good and ready and then he met Nash’s terrified eyes.
“So.”
Benji pulled the trigger.
The force of the shot knocked Nash’s chair over and Benji watched impassively, his ears ringing, as Nash bled out from what was left of his throat. It only took a few seconds. Benji clicked the safety back on and stuck the gun back into his pants. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle. Benji tapped a Percocet out into his palm and then crunched and swallowed it before hitching himself back up on his crutches and turning to go.
“NOW THIS is more like it!”
Judah nodded in agreement as Gary swaggered around his van and clapped him on the back. Across the street, the Stingrays’ marquee was lit up in pink neon and accompanied by flashing XXX and GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS signs mounted over the blacked-out windows. It wasn’t even dark yet, but already there was a meathead bouncer sitting on a stool outside the main entrance. He lazily turned his head in Judah’s direction, but there was absolutely no expression on his face. Judah glanced at Alvin, who was hanging back a little, surveying the scene.
“What do you think?”
Alvin grunted.
“Looks like the place.”
“So, right or left?”
To the right of the main entrance, but still part of the same building, was Stingrays Package Lounge. Cardboard advertisements for ten different types of flavored vodka were pasted over the windows and narrow glass door. Gary didn’t hesitate to answer.
“The club. Come on, guys, we go in the club.”
Both Judah and Alvin turned and started for the liquor store. Judah could hear Gary grumbling behind them as he hustled to catch up.
“Gonna get nothing out of this trip.”
Judah ignored him and cautiously opened the door to the store. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see through any of the glass. An electronic tone went off as he passed through the doorway and entered the brilliantly lit space. He squinted his eyes against the garish fluorescent light, seeming to come from every direction and reflecting off every available surface, and slowly walked down a row of bottles. Gary and Alvin made their way down the row next to him and they met in front of the checkout counter. Aside from the clerk, who was watching their every move with beady, bloodshot eyes, the store was empty. Judah stepped up to the counter, every inch of which seemed to be taken up with cardboard displays of plastic lighters, energy shots and slender glass tubes encapsulating miniature silk roses. The clerk blinked at Judah, waiting. Judah jerked a neon green lighter out of a display box and held it up. The clerk nodded, but didn’t stop chewing on his thumbnail. Judah slid him two dollars and casually scooped up his change.
“Weaver around?”
Judah had been hoping to catch him off guard, but the man seemed unfazed. The clerk finally bit off a crescent of nail and spat it out on the counter. He pointed in the direction of the club next door.
“Weaver don’t talk to nobody ’less they spending cash in his club.”
Judah should have known. He nodded to the clerk and jammed the lighter in his front pocket.
“Any way to get a message to Weaver while we’re spending our money?”
The clerk shrugged; he was studying the thumbnail on his other hand.
“Try a girl looks like she can count higher than seven.”
Judah didn’t bother to thank him. They exited the blinding liquor store and after paying their ten-dollar door fee, slipped into the cool, smoky darkness of the club. The room was bigger than it looked from the outside and probably every inch of it would be taken up come nine o’clock on a weekend night. As it was, the cavernous, near empty space appeared suspended in time, as if only waiting for the sun to set and the party to start.
Several satellite stages were scattered around the club, but only the main stage in the back was lit up. It was indeed perched on top of an aquarium, though Judah couldn’t tell if there were actual sharks swimming underneath the girl who was slowly shimmying up and down one of the poles above it. Judah looked to the other side of the room where a long, curving bar took up the length of the wall. He fixed his eyes on it.
“Boys, go spend some money. I need a drink.”
Gary, followed a little reluctantly by Alvin, bolted for the stage and Judah headed to the bar. Of the fifteen stools, only two were occupied, both by men who looked like used car salesmen on their way home from work. One had a plastic Toys “R” Us bag on the seat next to him. Judah moved down to the far end and settled himself. Once he had a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, he’d be better off.
It took a few minutes, but finally a woman with glossy black hair cut into a severe bob strutted down the bar and stopped in front of him. She watched Judah ash his cigarette on the ground before pursing her glittery red lips and sliding a tin ashtray in front of him. Judah nodded.
“Thanks.”
The woman crossed her arms underneath her silver bikini top and cocked her hip out, waiting. Judah smiled at her.
“Guy next door told me to find a girl who looks smart.”
The bartender rolled her eyes and pushed at the bridge of her purple-framed glasses.
“Geez, I never heard that one before.”
Judah tapped his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.
“What’s your name?”
The woman huffed.
“Sara. Now look, mister. You want a girl, you go to that side of the club. Join your friends. You want a drink, and only a drink, then stay where you are. Got it?”
Judah took a long drag on his cigarette.
“Whiskey.”
Sara nodded and set a plastic cup on the bar in front of him. She scooped ice into it and then filled it halfway with Early Times. She pushed it toward him.
“Twelve.”
“Jesus.”
Sara snapped the silver strap around her neck and shrugged.
“Daytona Beach. You’re paying extra for the sand in your glass.”
Judah pulled a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the bar. He kept his hand on it, though, and leaned forward.
“Listen, Sara. I need to talk to Weaver. Do you think you could help me?”
Sara tugged at her bikini bottom and eyed the bill on the bar.
“Who?”
Judah groaned and pulled out another twenty. He set it on top of the first and leaned back, looking the woman in the eye. She snatched up the bills and gave him a wink before sashaying back down the bar. Judah hoped there had been some sort of agreement. He downed the whiskey and crushed the plastic cup between his fingers, popping a few ice cubes out onto the bar. Judah shook his head in disgust before making his way over to the main stage.
There were two girls dancing now, both with rippling stretchmarks, leathery skin and vacuous expressions on their pockmarked faces. Judah thought they could be sisters, maybe even twins. The one who had already unsnapped her red lace bra had Gary’s full attention and he was leaning on the tip rail, feeding her dollar bills like she was a
slot machine. The other girl kept trying to catch Alvin’s eye, but he was entranced by the three small sharks swimming lazily along the bottom of the tank. Alvin, mouth open in wonder, nodded to Judah.
“Didn’t know they made ’em that small.”
Judah just shrugged.
“Who knew?”
Two more girls came out on the stage and the place slowly began to liven up. The cocktail waitresses on the floor were less attractive, but more friendly, than the bartender, and the drinks were still the same quality and price. Judah had his hands full trying to keep Gary from disappearing into a VIP room, first with a girl who looked about eighteen and six months pregnant and then with a woman who could have been the baby’s grandmother. Between those two and the Rainbow Bright cocktail waitress who had taken a shine to Alvin, Judah knew they’d all be washing glitter down the shower drain for a week. He did his best to keep the girls at arm’s length and his eyes wide open for trouble, but it wasn’t easy.
Finally, he spotted Sara across the room. She was pointing at him and the man standing next to her, built like a tank, was nodding. Judah snapped Alvin and Gary back to attention as the man weaved his way across the club and came up beside Judah. He crossed his hairy arms over his chest, but kept his eyes on the girl crawling across the stage.
“You want to talk to Weaver?”
Judah nodded.
“Yes.”
The man turned to him. He leaned his face in close and Judah could smell his hamburger breath.
“Well, come on, then.”
The man led them down a corridor lined with private booths and through a dark hallway that smelled of Clorox. It made Judah’s eyes burn. When they came to the end of it, another man, in a too-tight Affliction shirt with the sleeves torn off, pushed them against the wall and patted them down. Judah had been nervous about leaving the guns in the car, but now he was glad he had. The man jerked Judah’s cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one for himself. He grinned around it and jerked his thumb up a flight of stairs.
“He’ll see you now.”
Judah snatched his cigarettes back and climbed up the narrow set of metal stairs. Alvin and Gary were close behind. At the top, yet another beefcake, this one with shaved forearms and oversized gold earrings in the shape of dollar signs, eyeballed Judah before letting them pass. Judah felt like he was being doused with slime every time one of the bouncers looked his way. Finally, they were let through the door and into Weaver’s lair.