Dreams Ltd

  I put the unfinished bottle and pickled cucumbers back in the fridge shaking my head. Tomorrow we will have all the answers.

  “Polo-grand” Club.

  If I was to say “I didn’t like them” that wouldn’t be quite as accurate as if I was to say I felt a strong and persistent antipathy towards these sleek "owners" in their chic clothes, gold watches and their hair combed and gelled back, reminding me of peacocks. Polishing off the glasses I was carefully watching the dining room and a part of the game room from where some male’s voices and sometimes subdued laughter were heard. As soon as I am done with the glasses, the premium quality drinks will be poured in them, and the “big guys” will sip them slowly, enjoying their luxurious life while their employees bust their guts trying to earn another pathetic point.

  The emotions I was experiencing at the moment didn’t come straight away but after many hours of working in the men-only private club “Polo-Grand”. It was my second week here since that day when Jenny offered me this job. They took me on with no problems but only after that friend of Jenny’s scrutinized my appearance for some time, he pronounced his compelling “yes”. Ever since then I’d been spending all hours in the elegantly furnished room decorated with leather and velvet, constantly filled with cigar smoke and only coming back to my apartment at Bell-Oak very late at night.

  “Hurry up with the glasses - the customers are waiting for their drinks.” the bartender said making a passing remark and walked away to take the new orders from the waitress.

  “I’m almost done.” I polished the last glass and put it on the counter. Waiting for the some drinks to be made I straightened my short skirt and fixed the flower pinned to my silk blouse which was the usual part of the waitress’s uniform at “Polo-Grand”.

  Every morning on my way to work I would take in the level of poverty and dilapidation in Tally; I saw starving people and worn out hands of the mere mortals, wandering to their hated jobs in order to provide themselves with a piece of bread; whereas at the club I experienced the complete opposite of well-fed wealthy owners enjoying their luxury life style here. Seeing such a contrast on daily basis made me go through hundreds of conflicting feelings - on one hand my nerves were getting more and more shattered, on the other hand, seeing this was strengthening my self-discipline. I had to smile with a sincere friendly smile at the each randomly casted word and each meaningless phrase, saying, "yes, Sir”, "of course, Sir”, "is there anything else can I help you with, Sir?"

  “There you go, brandy “Cherokee”, cognac “Vieille J'oublié”, two beers, one tequila, brandy and Sambuca. Make sure you give them to the right person.”

  “Uh-huh. “ I nodded and trotted to the game room, wondering about the ingredients this Sambuca is made of. During my time at “Polo-Grand” I’ve learned how to distinguish alcohol by the colour. Getting customers’ drinks mixed up was considered to be outrages ignorance in the club. My everyday wage wasn’t massive but not too tiny either - five points, plus sometimes the customers would be very generous and tip me with some additional points. According to my calculations I discovered that considering the cost of food and other necessary things, I would need about a year or so to get out of Tally, not so bad if you think about the possibility to be stuck here for a lifetime, like many other prisoners here.

  “Here are your drinks, gentlemen”. I smiled and began to carefully place the glasses next to each of eight men playing poker. They didn’t pay any attention to me since it was the time for “river” where the last and the most important card of the hand appears on the table.

  “Damn you, Brennen!” said a middle-aged balding man in a dark jacket to his neighbour. “You already won all my money yesterday!”

  Brennen - a fat man with a big belly and black moustache - just smiled smugly.

  “What can I do if Lady Luck is on my side today?”

  “I bet you bluffed! There were no two pairs in your hand!” The man in a black jacket wasn’t prepared to give up that easily.

  “I’m allowed to bluff. If you’d called, you would’ve won this hand. Hey, girl, where is my cognac?”

  The last phrase was thrown at me so I quickly placed a tumbler filled with amber liquid on top of a snow-white napkin next to him.

  “Here is your cognac, Sir.”

  “To the victory!” heralded the lucky moustached man and sipped his brandy. The others were not too keen to support his toast, perhaps because the victory was not that kind to them this evening.

  As I’ve placed two beers, tequila and a Sambuca on the table I hesitated for a moment, looking for the person the last brandy was meant to be for, there were eight men at the table but only seven drinks on my tray, so which one of the last two men should I give this brandy to? I halted in confusion.

  “Are you contemplating drinking my brandy?” I heard a calm deep voice coming from my left.

  At once I turned around and met the eyes of the voice owner. He had short, but nicely cut and heavily sun-burnt hair, tanned skin and cold grey eyes under the dark eyebrows.

  “No, Sir. Here's your brandy.” I mumbled, quickly placing the last glass next to him.” I’m ever so sorry for being so slow.”

  In fact I didn’t feel any remorse but I got quite skilled at imitating the guilty babbling in order to avoid any sort of upset from the customers. I didn’t really care if they had to wait until the next spring for their drinks but if I ever wanted to leave Tally I had to oblige. So with mock politeness I simply asked if there was “anything else mister wanted” but "mister", as if he could feel the affectation in my tone, just stared at me for a while and then replied that he was “alright for the moment”.

  I nodded and walked away from the table, somehow relieved. I had to admit he had rather grisly eyes - that man - very cold eyes and I wouldn’t like him to complain about me later, my hospitality has to come across more genuine next time, if I ever approach him again.

  In the next minute I pushed the unpleasant thoughts away and went to another table to take new orders.

  “Hey, how are you today?” Jenny came to me, wearing the same uniform as me with the emblem of the club on a short skirt.

  “I’m okay.” I tried to stretch my tired of high heels feet, “tired, but alright.”

  “Yes, I know, but I finish in an hour, I will go up to see Roger and then I’ll wait for you in the locker room.”

  “Okay.” I said wistfully looking at the clock, feeling a bit envious of Jenny who won’t have to bring orders to clients and replace ashtrays full of dog ends. She’ll spend the next hour on a leather sofa upstairs enjoying herself with the club owner. However as soon as I remembered Roger’s appearance I stopped being so jealous. I was never attracted to skinny men with receding hair, especially someone who was as big-headed and arrogant as Roger. Although, I must admit, Jenny’s probably made the right choice, the choice that will get her a one-way ticket for “Tally - Freedom Express.”

  I spent another forty minutes running around the tables waiting for the night shift staff to take over.

  "Twenty more minutes, just another twenty minutes and I'll be on the bus home soaking in the hot bath. Soon. "

  Meanwhile more and more men were arriving at the club. Most of them have finished their daily affairs and hastened to share a drink or two in the company of their kind. The number of points on my bracelet, as well as my mood were rising slowly due to the tipsy customers - the ones who were lucky at Blackjack or other card games were especially generous. It seemed that today, for the first time, I could take home eight or even ten points!

  I smiled to myself and decided to thank Jenny once again for the opportunity to work here.

  “Girl, I want more vodka with ice and a Coke.”

  “Yes, of course.” I quickly pencilled down the new order in my notebook, trying to catch clients’ requests buried in general hubbub.

  “Top up my brandy, please.”

  “Done.”

  “Don’t forget to sugar coat the rim of my g
lass.”

  “Of course, I’ll sugar coat the rim of your glass.”

  “And a slice of lemon!”

  “Slice of lemon, got it.”

  It felt like the plastic smile on my face will remain there overnight and no bath could help to get rid of it. I quickly passed the new orders to the bartender and attached my notepad to the bar counter. In order not to get told off by the manager for standing by the bar twiddling my thumbs (he didn’t care that I was waiting for the drinks to be poured), I decided to walk to the far end of the gaming room even though that was a serving area of another waitress - we appreciated any extra help whenever possible especially at busy times and try not to leave customers unattended. As soon as I approached the tables in the centre I saw with the corner of my eye how someone raised their hand and clicked their fingers. I turned my head in amazement (was this now the gesture to call a waitress?) and saw a familiar looking man. Of course, table number four - white shirt, gold chain, and grey eyes - who else would dare to call the waiting staff this way? Meanwhile, the man, seeing my baffled look, slowly raised his hand and snapped his fingers again.

  "Arsehole" I hissed to myself, smiled widely and hurried towards him.

  “What can I get you, Sir? I sang, wanting to kick the man where it hurts.

  “Bring me a cigar.”

  “Which one would you like?”

  “Carrabana Number Four.” I quickly opened my notebook and noted down his request.

  “Would you like your tip cut off?”

  Voices of men playing poker immediately quieted down and for a few seconds the silence hung over the table, then a loud roar of laughter descended around me. A moment later I realised that this reaction was caused by the words “your tip” that came out of mouth.

  “Ooops!” I could feel my face burning up and covered my mouth with my hand. The man, who asked for the cigar, looked at me disapprovingly.

  “Hulk, the girl wants to cut something off you!” laughed the man with a moustache.

  “Morris, did you just hear what she’s just offered him?”

  “It won’t fit into a cutter… it’s too thick!” screeching from laughter replied Morris.

  With all my heart I was wishing they’d stop laughing at my expense but it wasn’t just me who was incredibly embarrassed but also Hulk who was being mocked by others because of my silly mistake. And judging by his cold eyes, he was not going to forgive me easily.

  “I didn’t mean to say that, Sir…” I tried to justify myself. “Honestly. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  I reluctantly stretched my trembling wrist.

  “I didn’t mean it like that ....” I squeaked, still hoping for salvation but at this moment my bracelet made a short sound.

  The laughter at the table faded almost immediately.

  “How much did you take off her? One point? One and half?” hectic questions were shooting from all over the table.

  “I bet a hundred bucks he took two points!” the man with a moustache put a hundred dollars note on the table.

  “I don’t think so…” objected Morris. “Two points… I doubt it... Maybe just one…”

  “I am telling you, two points and no less. Don’t you know Hulk?”

  The bet increased up to three hundred dollars and new notes were thrown on the table.

  “Hulk, tell us for how many points did you fine her?”

  “Five.” Said Hulk slowly tapping his cigarette lighter on the table, his eyes were fixed on my face.

  Five! I screamed inside, shaking with fury, five points?!

  Even the men at the table fell silent, gazing with astonishment at his and mine reaction. I just about managed to hold myself back from lashing out at him. What have I spent the whole day in this smoky boozer for? To lose all my daily earnings for one wrongly said word to this peacock? Yes, I made a mistake, it can happen to anyone, but five points?? Who the hell does he think he is?

  Looking at my tensed up jaws, Hulk asked.

  “Do you want to tell me something?”

  Trying to stop my voice from trembling and hardly moving my lips I said:

  “No, sir.”

  “So what are you still doing here?”

  I stared at him in silence feeling totally lost.

  “I asked for a cigar. If I don’t see it in a minute I’ll take another five points off of you.”

  Trying not to look at him I slowly turned around and went back to the bar.

  “You’re the man!” I heard someone exclaimed in admiration behind me.

  “Can you believe it!? He took five points off my bracelet for just one bloody word!”

  “It happens.” Jenny shook her head sympathetically. “You have to be careful.”

  We sat in a half-empty bus on the way to Bell-Oak Park; our bus stop was two streets away.

  “Who does he think he is?! Why did he think he’s got the right to fine me like that?” I couldn’t get what just happened out of my head, feeling completely decomposed.

  “Yes, they’ve got the right to fine us, these owners.” Jenny spat her last words with blatant hostility. “There is nothing we can do about it, that’s how the system works. Just be happy that things like that don’t happen every day.”

  “Well... My whole day has gone down the drain.”

  “You’ll earn more points don’t worry; though I know it’s not a nice experience. Crap like that happened to me a few times as well.”

  “Really?”

  “Huh... of course!”

  Meanwhile the bus turned into another quiet street and passed a supermarket. We got up from our seats and headed towards the exit.

  “I wish I could punch Hulk in the face…”

  “Whose face?” Jenny startled as she was getting off the bus.

  We were outside; the air was much cooler now after the dusk has fallen upon the city, midday heat subsided and only a light breeze was wafting over the sounds of music from somewhere down the street.

  “That man’s name was Hulk...”

  Jenny suddenly broke into a nervous laughter.

  “Oh, God, you were lucky then!” she shivered and wrapped her thin cardie tighter around herself, “he is one of the worst scumbags in the city, at least one of the cruellest.”

  “Is he really?”

  “Yeah, he owns a ranch on the outskirts of Tally. He is so bad with his people that one or two of them die every month.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “I wish I was! Other owners take much better care of their people than he does. I heard the conditions on his ranch are extremely poor, employees are starving - they get just enough food to survive but not a single spoon extra.”

  “Can’t he be sued for neglect or abuse?”

  We were approaching the entrance and I just about managed to notice a steel bar sticking out of the ground, invisible in the darkness, and stepped over it.

  “Who would sue him? I bet the judge has been bought and there will always be more workers coming to his ranch, so why would he bother? New employees are never a problem in Tally.”

  “What a freak he is!” I swore out loud and followed Jenny inside the building.

  As we reached the second floor, Jenny inserted her key into a keyhole and turned around to me.

  “Shall we go and see Robert tonight? It’s boring in the room anyway; I want to take some sausages over to him.”

  “Yeah, why not?” I agreed. “Let me just have a quick shower and then I’ll take something for him as well.”

  “Ok, knock on my door when you ready.”

  “Deal.”

  Jenny introduced Robert to me about a week ago - he was a lanky, weedy guy living at the end of the corridor on the second floor. When we first came to see him together, I was completely taken aback by the chaos in his room - the table and chairs were covered with circuit boards, wires, computer chips and other electronic rubbish. As soon as he realised that Jenny wasn’t alone he started sweeping
all this stuff away from chairs and stuffing it all in the wardrobe whilst trying to cover a blowtorch and microscope on a table with a bedcover, stripped off the bed.

  “Bob! Calm down! She is alright, you can trust her!” Jenny yelled, looking at Robert who was blinking in confusion behind thick glasses; he was still holding a bunch of computer chips in his arms prepared to shove them in the wardrobe.

  Five minutes later we finally managed to calm him down and now he sat on the sofa, greedily eating bread, cheese and ham we brought for him.

  It turned out that Robert had once spent four years studying radio-electronics at the university. He was considered one of the best and most promising students in the faculty until one day when he set up a circuit board that read the PIN codes from credit cards at cashpoints, after that he was caught and sent to Tally. By that time he was living on his own and had some ambitious plans, such as to get a job at the "Electric Digest", buy a new sports car and get married to the beautiful girl Ann from another faculty so they could live happily ever after; Ann, as I understood, didn’t have a clue who Bob was. However, Bob’s quirky and inquisitive mind desired to explore new areas which eventually led him to commit a crime.