The Erotica Book Club for Nice Ladies

by Connie Spittler

  “So if I read and you read, that makes a club?” Aggie put the books in her milk carryall.

  “Seems like it.” Piper took Lily’s arm and whispered in her ear. “Do you know any books called, uh, her-otica? You know, X-Rated?”

  “I do,” Lily said. “They even exist in libraries, available to check out.”

  “I’d be interested in some of those titles.”

  Lily smiled at the request. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The smell of dusty furniture blessed the beginning of a book club.

  One by one, Boris Ratchov released his antique daggers, imbedding sharply honed points deep into the cork lined wall of the Emporium office. Afterward, he smoked a joint and shined his ancient swords.

  Near Groverly, research herbalists from Neubland Pharmaceutical composed experimental formulas from plants with medieval backgrounds. They started with monkshood, measuring roots and leaves, oils and essences, weighing drops and grams, tinkering with its poison and potential.

  CHAPTER 4

  One lone butterfly dipped down from the sky fluttering past the neon tubes of the Emporium marquee. The sign blinked at Piper as she drove into the vacant parking lot. She noticed the picketer walking back and forth with a sign that read “Ban Erotic DVDs. Every Single Sexy Scene!” When she recognized Griffo, she was glad she’d worn sunglasses and a big hat to protect against the bright sun. After he turned to go the other direction, she hurried into the store on her private errand. Inside, wind-up metallic birds perched in little brass cages, filling the room with melodies of mechanical notes. She wrinkled her nose at the unusual smell and moved past the bins of old herbs to look around for a clerk. Voices drifted from behind a purple satin drape that covered a side room of the store. She considered leaving, but curiosity trumped caution, and she tiptoed toward the curtain.

  “Hey, who’s out there?” A strong male voice made her jump.

  She cleared her throat. “Just a customer. I’ll browse until you’re free, or I can come back another time.”

  “Hell, if it’s okay with my client, come on in and take a look at my tattoo work.”

  A weak voice stammered, “I…I…I guess so.”

  “Permission granted, lady. Enter and view the art show.”

  Piper took a deep breath and couldn’t resist pulling the drape open to see what was inside. Huge posters of tattoos emblazoned on body parts filled the walls of the little enclosure. Elaborate griffons and vampires and bats and snakes decorated arms, legs, chests, stomachs, backs, and behinds. She gasped when she saw the markings nuzzled against male and female genitalia and closed her eyes against the pointed pen-like tattoo needles hanging on the wall.

  A broad-chested muscular man in green medical scrubs turned toward her. “I’m Boris Ratchov, owner of the Emporium. Sit down and watch it happen. Right in front of your eyes.” A faint scar running along one cheek showed against his tan. Her eyes lingered on his arms decorated with rainbow colored tattoos. The drill buzzed to announce his return to work as he deliberately and permanently marked the pale, inner flesh of Sax Morton’s forearm.

  “Oh, Piper, it’s you.” Sax’s voice was soft as wilted lettuce. “If you talk to me, it might keep me from watching and wincing.”

  Eyes wide, she gazed at the rows of colored inks waiting to be infused into thick silvery needles. “I’ll try.”

  “What can I do for you, pink lady?”

  She stared at Boris. “I’m Piper from the Cut & Curl Salon in town. You know, with the pink awnings. I, uh, came in for some potpourri. Definitely not a tattoo.”

  “Not even pink flowers to match your hair and awnings?” Boris winked.

  “Not today.” Piper studied the marks imprinted on Sax’s skin. “Does it hurt much?”

  He managed a weak smile. “Not as bad as you think.”

  Fascinated, Piper watched the tattoo artist scroll the design on the ivory backdrop of Sax’s forearm. He looked pale and insecure, but she understood. Her own stomach churned, seeing the tiny rivulets of red seep from the row of needles. The blood masked a strange flower erupting from a bulbous beginning.

  “Why’d you decide to get a tat?” she said. “Does Maxine have one?”

  “Maxine’s too busy being Queen of Used Stuff to pay attention to other things. It was the mystery and power of tattoo that intrigued me.”

  Boris mopped around the penetrated skin.

  Sax cringed. “Don’t get any blood on my new mauve shirt.”

  “Next time, you’ll change,” Boris said. “There are robes in the dressing room.”

  Piper looked away. “Say, how’s business over at Used Stuff these days? Mine’s pretty steady.”

  Sax lowered his head. “Okay, I guess, but my recommendation? Never go into partnership with a relative, especially if she’s bossy and insists on controlling every damn thing. Max makes the decisions. I do the grunt work.” He peeked up at her. “No offense to women in business, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just take her on, Sax.” Piper kept her face turned away from the blood. “But your store’s a partnership, right?”

  “My folks set it up for us to share, even the upstairs apartment, but somehow she never got the idea of a partnership. Just bulldozes right over me.”

  Boris grinned. “Well, today gives you the balls to start fresh. You’re the one with the tattoo.”

  “I just want a place where I can get some sleep. She’s an insomniac. Wants me to stay up nights playing chess. I need a life and a good night’s rest.”

  “Man, why not get your own apartment?” Boris said.

  “I dunno. Not many available around town.”

  Piper wrinkled her nose. “Get a room at the motel.”

  “That won’t work. I’ve got too much stuff.”

  Boris pointed in the direction of the storage room. “Dump some of it here until later. The storage room’s not full. I’ll rent it out cheap, now that you’re a customer.”

  “You know what? I might take you up on that.”

  Boris changed needles and resumed the work. “You look a little peaked. How you doing?”

  Sax winced. “First time’s kind of a surprise.”

  “When you walked in, I never thought you’d be the type for a tattoo.” Boris dabbed at the red bubbles.

  Sax gazed at the blood threading its way through the design. “Actually, I do feel a little sick.”

  “Think about moving out of Used Stuff,” Boris said. “Get a hobby.”

  Sax let out a groan. “I guess that’s enough design work for today. When I bring over some of my things, you can finish.”

  He watched the last swabbing of the strange bulb and floral design, followed by a sweep of stinging alcohol and a bandage. He stood and got his bearings before unfolding his shirt sleeve. “And I do have a hobby. I play chess. With Maxine. Teaches a person how to plan ahead. She’s really good at that. Me, not so much, but I can do better.”

  A car rumbled into the front parking stall of the Emporium. A door slammed. The store bell announced a visitor.

  In a few quick moves, Boris put away the tattoo paraphernalia, tubes and tips, grips and transfers. “Come by for your second tattoo session, Sax, and afterward, we might try chess. Or even a more dangerous game.”

  Backing out through the shiny curtain, Piper looked at the store entrance and saw a heavyset man in a rumpled suit leaning against Griffo.

  His slurred voice made her jump. “Hello. Hello there, honey. Greetings and slalutations. Anyone else here?”

  “I’m just looking for some potpourri.” Piper scurried away and buried her face in a bouquet of eucalyptus leaves.

  “Gimme a minute,” Boris called out. “I’m cleaning brushes.”

  “No hurry. It’s Llewellyn Blanding, the new Neu guy, otherwise known as your Neubland Pharmathermical…Pharmaceutical rep. Holy shit, look at those movie titles.” He nudged Griffo, still at his elbow. “No wonder this guy’s picketing, but he kindly showed me in.”

 
; “I thought he was a tipsy customer.” Griffo put down his sign.

  “I don’t believe I’ve bought anything from your company.” Boris marched up to the counter, Sax trailing behind.

  “Well, hell, the previous Ratchov did.” The salesman pulled down his wrinkled jacket. “Account’s still set up. Waitin’ for that next order. Call me Llewellyn.”

  “But no one shops on the herbal side of the store anymore.”

  The salesman gestured toward Piper. “What about her?”

  Boris shrugged. “With you in a minute, Miss.”

  “No hurry,” she said, content to eavesdrop.

  Boris held up a DVD. “Most customers choose a mildly exotic or madly erotic selection. These badly lit movies keep me and the place afloat.”

  The salesman leaned against the “Hottest of Hot” display. “You’re saying that herbs can’t compete, huh? Where d’ya keep your medicinal bottles and jars?”

  Boris pointed down two short aisles past the open bins.

  Llewellyn stumbled and Griffo caught his arm. “Careful there, mister.”

  As the salesman moved closer, Piper slid over to the display of singing metal birds. She watched him pick up various items, then toss them aside.

  Boris followed behind, placing the items in their proper slots. “Yup, my herb business is dying out.”

  The salesman pitched his voice to the end of the store. “Lookee this dwindling display of salves and tins. Fella, your inventory’s gone to pot.” He inched closer to Boris’s face. “But I’m loaded with bargains.”

  Boris stepped back. “Right. Loaded. Look, I don’t need anything today.” He rubbed at a dark streak of tattoo ink that marked his forefinger.

  “Wait. Wait. Just one minute.” Llewellyn rummaged inside his case “Our Sweet Sleep Pills are on special. Puts the restless down for the night. Smoother than a vodka tonic.”

  “Unique sales pitch, I admit.” Boris’s thumb stroked the ink on his finger.

  “Do not be testy, sir.” Llewellyn pulled out a tiny tin. “I get enough of that from my brother. But I’m the one with the million dollar ideas.” The salesman struggled with the lid until it snapped open. He waved it under Boris’s nose. “You buy half a case of our Sweet Sleep Pills, I throw in this sample of Calendula Cream. It will erase all your black ink marks. Try it.”

  Piper peered from the next aisle to watch Boris apply salve to his finger. The stain faded away. “Amazing,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be damned,” Boris said.

  Griffo and Sax stepped closer to examine the finger.

  Llewellyn nodded. “What’d I say? Look, I know what’s what and I plan to rock Elcott’s boat. My idea takes on the big stuff. A cure for cancer. Heart disease. Alz…heimies. Sales’ll explode for Neubland when I’m done.” He shuffled papers in his case and pulled out an order form.

  Piper took a few steps closer. “You really mean you have a cure for cancer?”

  “Shoot, the cures aren’t on the market yet, lady. Look, our company is working on drugs from medieval plants. The poison ones. But so far, they haven’t found a damn thing. I’m betting I can get the cures before the lab. We’ll see what ole Elcott thinks of me then.”

  “And Elcott is …” Boris leaned forward.

  Llewelyn sighed. “Told you, my brother, President of Neubland. I’ll come up with healing herb remedies from some poisons.”

  “Well, morphine and codeine come from a poppy connection.” Boris rubbed his thumb over his clean finger.

  Griffo let out a whoop. “And you’re the guy who’ll discover the cures?”

  Llewellyn bristled. “Not exactly what I said. Elcott showed me a flyer he got in the mail. From over in Europe, Jar Done, Jar Deen, something. It was there in black and red. About a book of old cures.”

  “You mean Verdun?” Boris rubbed his scar.

  “No, sir. Jar done.”

  “Never heard of the place.”

  “Elcott neither, but you can read about it at the Groverly Library. Elcott heard it from an herb guy. Over in Europe, there’s this cure book kept hidden away for years.” He leaned against a counter. “Family is worried about lawsuits. But if we get the cures, we got corporate insurance.”

  “Why do you need the book if your lab’s working on the cures?” Boris said.

  “Because the lab’s not come up with a damn thing. Might take ‘em forever.”

  Sax rolled his eyes. “And exactly, what’s your plan?”

  “Just go to Jardon. Get the book.” The salesman stumbled and barely caught himself. “Hey, your floor’s crooked, fella.”

  Boris nodded. “Yeah, drinking makes it that way.”

  The Neubland salesman pointed to the half empty herbal shelves. “You gotta get with the times.” His eyes swept around the store and landed on Piper. “Right, lady?”

  All heads swiveled to look at Piper, who flipped her pink locks. “Yes, indeed, definitely go with the times.”

  “So how about that order for sleep pills?”

  Boris nodded. “I’ll consider half a case.”

  Llewellyn closed his display case with a thump. “I’ll put it on your tab.” He leaned against the window for support. “Whoa.”

  Griffo reached for him. “I gotcha.”

  “Say, picketing guy, you still here? Thought the town was dead set against the DVDs.”

  Boris cocked his head. “Well, I’m an idea man too. I hired him for advertising. Gets the attention of the citizenry. They think he’s picketing, and they rent a DVD to see what the fuss is about. When they talk about it, other folks rent it. Called the human condition. The quest for knowledge.”

  Piper wrinkled her brow in surprise. She stared at Boris and shook her head.

  “My friend, we got things in common.” Llewellyn wobbled a bit. “Not many customers understand that kinda thing.”

  Boris put a hand on the salesman’s shoulder. “Look, there’s vodka in the office. Want a short one for the road?”

  “Never been known to turn down a drink.”

  “Griffo, wait on the lady. Sax, see you later.” Boris led Llewellyn past Piper into the office. The faint clink of glassware escaped through the open door.

  Piper looked at Griffo, who held up his hand, motioning for her to wait. Then he slid forward to eavesdrop on Boris’s conversation with Llewellyn. Sax joined him, and Piper moved closer too.

  Loud, booming voices carried out into the store from the office.

  “Yeah, Mr. Emplorium, a million. I plan to sell that book for a million to Elcott. Soon as I work out a plan. No one’s been able to talk that family into selling it, but I’m one helluva convincing guy.”

  Boris’s enthusiastic voice carried into the store. “Terrific idea. And the book’s really worth a million to Neubland?”

  “Means billions in sales, fella. Cancer, remember. Heart disease. That other one. Hey, bottoms up. Gotta get going.”

  Piper moved out of Sax’s way as he brushed by her to dash for his car. Griffo trotted to the register and a minute later, Boris led Llewellyn to the door.

  Piper waited near the herbs until Griffo left with his sign. Then, she wandered up to Boris. “Did you know your place has the local gossips buzzing?”

  “Good indication that picketing works.” He sorted through returned DVDs. “I’d appreciate you not passing the word around about who hired Griffo.”

  “Sure thing. I just wondered what kind of X-rated stuff you carried here.”

  “Ma’am, shelves and shelves of sexy movies, for rent or purchase. To any and all discriminating viewers.”

  “But not much good without a DVD player. What I’m looking for are books that might cover the same subjects. You know, ‘Hairotica’?”

  “If you crave titillation, better buy yourself a machine, lady. I don’t carry any books. And the word you’re looking for is ‘erotica.’”

  “That’s what I said. ‘Airotica.’”

  “Just look around, lady. You see any books?” />
  In the tattoo room, Boris took a last puff of weed before refining the lizard tattoo on his knee. Ideas dark as smoke billowed from his mind. About how to beat a tipsy Neubland salesman out of a million bucks.

  Wildly waving his sign, Griffo stepped along, mulling over the information he’d overheard. His feet beat a tempo to the tune of stealing an old book. Force might be necessary, but no scheme involving a fortune was impossible for a clever gypsy.

  After nearby sales calls for Neubland, Llewellyn dropped by the Groverly Library. He concentrated on the Book of Cures. About taking a leave of absence. Posing as a collector or journalist. Or breaking in and stealing the damn thing.

  Sax emptied trash into the dumpster. He grabbed the red flyer about to tumble in the bin’s open mouth, then analyzed ways to steal the Book of Cures, but came up empty. Putting aside his pride, he approached Maxine.

  “Hey sis, I need your devious mind. This guy was talking about a book worth a million dollars. If I’m clever enough, I could cash in on his scheme.”

  She listened, then scoffed. “You’re a sucker, if you think you could get in on that. It’s way too complicated and seriously criminal. Frankly, you don’t have the balls.”

  After store hours, Sax slipped away to visit the library in Groverly. To his surprise, he found Maxine in the Special Collections Room, reading the article in the encyclopedia. She looked up. “Like I said, very complicated.”

  The lone butterfly skirted the black cloud rising from the machinations of four men and one woman, all intent on possessing a hidden book of unbelievable possibilities.

  CHAPTER 5

  The next morning’s sunlight turned the window shade to glowing parchment. Piper woke with her husband’s fingers roaming gently across the back of her rose-colored nightie, then slipping toward her breast. She sat up with a start and ran her fingertips through her glinting golden ringlets. “Wow, Freddie, it must be late.”

  Fred checked the clock by the bedside. “Nope, it’s early. Plenty of time for some sweet affection before the alarm goes off.”