Stilettos and Steel

by Jeri Estes

  “I am your woman,” she said softly. “You can’t buy what already belongs to you.”

  Grabbing her hand, I took her in my arms and kissed her hard. Heat rushed up my spine, spreading all over my body. Carmen’s arms wrapped around me as my tongue danced with hers.

  We stumbled backward into the bedroom, entangled in lust, kissing desperately. My fingers brushed the back of her long hair as they made their way down and unzipped her dress. I caressed the soft skin of her warm back. The satin garment floated off her body to the floor around her stiletto-clad feet. She kicked the dress to the side and stepped out of her shoes.

  She slipped my gun off my shoulder like an old friend, comfortable and unaffected by it. The scent of Chanel flooded my senses as her hands effortlessly removed my shirt and undid my binder. The cool air danced on my bare skin while her hot tongue encircled my nipples. My back tingled as her fingers brushed lower. She quickly undid my belt, fell to her knees and lowered my pants. I saw the crown of her head at my naked waist. I closed my eyes and allowed her to go to the core of me.

  Pulling Carmen to her feet, we kissed and lay down together on my bed. Intoxicated with desire, my senses transported me into a realm of ecstasy as we made love. Carmen’s nude body fit perfectly under mine as our most intimate parts reunited. She pressed hungrily against me. Love’s stream of pleasure dripped from Carmen as my tongue awakened her heart. Afterward, I rested into Carmen and the peace that surrounded us.

  I cradled her in my arms while she lightly stroked my back. “Jesse, remind me baby to pick you up the ‘World’s Best Lover’ trophy,” she whispered contentedly.

  I covered her mouth with kisses and smiled. “That’s what they tell me,” I heard myself stupidly say, sounding like an indifferent player.

  Carmen laughed and punched me in the side. “Maybe the girls you’ve been with have all been virgins,” she said mischievously.

  “Yeah right,” I whispered back, disarmed.

  “Jesse, you can’t fool me. I know who you are. I can see your beautiful soul, honey.” Carmen’s words melted my shielded heart. “You can drop your player act with me.”

  We spoke as young lovers in sacred, hushed tones. The warmth of her young body soothed me as we held each other close. Carmen gazed into my eyes, captivating me. She whispered, “I understand the need to keep up a front, Jesse. In the Tenderloin, it’s all about who’s left standing. I’ll back your play, baby.” She kissed me on the cheek, sealing her promise.

  After a while, Carmen got up, slipped on my unbuttoned white men’s dress shirt and went to the kitchen to fix us both a drink. I turned on the radio. Dusty Springfield was singing “Son of a Preacher Man.” I pulled on my boxers and grabbed a wife-beater t-shirt. From the cigar box in the top dresser drawer, I removed a fat bomber. Back on the bed I fired up the joint with my Zippo.

  My girl poured us both a short drink of Jack in two water glasses. I heard her call out from the kitchen, “My, I guess you’re not Betty Crocker. There’s not even an old bagel in your fridge. Now I know you’re not into any other bitch.”

  I chuckled and took another hit of the weed. “Femmes! If a girl gets in your refrigerator, then I guess it’s love, huh?” I called. “No one fills my fridge but you, babe.”

  Carmen returned with our drinks. Her sexy nude body glistened under the white shirt, and her deliciously messy hair fell around her glowing face. She handed me the drink and we clinked our glasses. I shot my lady a quick smile and jumped into a James Cagney routine. “Jesse, that dirty, dirty rat is happy to be back.”

  Carmen laughed as she took the joint out of my hand and took a hit. She exhaled and naughtily popped on my Stetson. Pulling the brim low over her forehead, she acted like a tough guy and pointed her finger at me like a make-believe gun. Playfully, she growled like Humphrey Bogart. “You were a dirty rat!”

  After another sip of her drink she lay next to me. She was quiet for a moment. “Where the fuck have you been?” she asked at length.

  I could see concern in her eyes and it made me feel as if she could see right through me.

  “I’m sorry,” I softly replied. “I’ve missed you every day but I just couldn’t tell you the truth. My body’s ached for you. I didn’t want you to see me when I was so down and out. I always want to be my best self for you.”

  She kissed me softly. “Jesse, we can all get lost. Next time, just be honest with me. Someday you’ll understand that you don’t need to keep up your front with me. All I want is truth. Don’t you think it was hard for me to tell you that I’ve been tricking?”

  “Yeah. But honestly, I’m surprised you lasted so long working that square gig.” I reflected on that statement and added, “I’m also surprised I’ve lasted so long on the streets not getting hooked on the hard shit. What’s a few months on a chump change run? Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t have to see you fixing, Jesse. That way I didn’t have to kill you,” she said frowning at the idea of shooting up. “Although, God knows, I can understand just wanting to nod out. Since I’ve been working with Phyllis, I can imagine what you went through working Turk.”

  I instantly protested that idea. “Carmen, you don’t need to turn cheap dates. Your sister is beautiful like you are and has a lot better johns than most Tenderloin girls. You’re gorgeous and maybe you don’t even have to hook. I could hire you as an assistant. Damn, I’m doin’ so well that I just hired my first henchman. What do you think, girl?”

  She wasn’t impressed. “I’m sure you have plenty of cash, but I’m not taking Miss Big Tit’s money. I can make my own. Let’s get real, Jesse. You’re just getting started. I’ve always known I would end up in the life. It’s the price we all pay to live free in the Tenderloin. Your L.A. bitch has nothing on Phyllis and me but road time and a little extra cash.”

  I smiled at the catty swipe about Bunny’s age. Bunny was in her mid-twenties, but on the streets, that’s middle-aged. I asked sincerely, “Why were you afraid to tell me you were hooking? You don’t have any other surprises in your life, do you?”

  “Like another butch?” Carmen coyly smiled back.

  “Don’t fuck with me, girl,” I said, my temper flaring. “I can dish it out but I can’t take it. It’s different with us pimp butches. Ladies come with the job. You know you were my first real girlfriend and you’ll be my last. Now answer me, girl, before I have to kill you,” I playfully said.

  Bracing myself for her answer, I took a big swig of Jack.

  Carmen took the joint out of my hand and took her time before taking a drag. I didn’t breathe as I waited for her reply. Seductively, she wrapped her leg over mine, placed the Stetson on my head, exhaled and said, “Baby, you’re the only daddy in the family.”

  Carmen wrapped her arms around me, pressing her semi-nude body close to mine. Smokey Robinson & the Miracles’ song “Ooh Baby Baby” filled the air. Burying my face in the softness of her hair, I felt the sting of trapped tears behind my closed eyes. Overwhelmed with unexpressed emotions, I clung to my girl.

  Carmen held me tight and softly pleaded, “Please never leave me again.”

  “Never, girl,” I whispered as I kissed her.

  Carmen leaned back, searched my eyes and said, “Seriously, Jesse, no more running away.”

  I whispered into her ear, “I got it.”

  Chapter 16

  SUGAR AND VICE

  Carmen’s toes played with mine as we lay together in bed eating chop suey. The late afternoon sun was setting, and our marathon of sex had come to an end. Carmen had to get ready for her date with the D.A. As for me, I had rounds to make.

  Carmen propped herself up against my headboard, wearing nothing but my shirt and a smile. She closed the little Cantonese cardboard containers on the nightstand, placed our chopsticks neatly on top of the boxes and said, “I’m gonna hop in the shower and get ready.”

  I flippantly told my girl, “This better have been a preview of coming attraction
s.”

  Carmen giggled and pointed archly towards me, “Only if you’re as good as you were this time.”

  I watched Carmen slip out of my shirt and walk nude into the bathroom.

  Brenda Lee’s heartfelt voice soothed my contented soul as I listened to Carmen humming along with the music from the shower. Finally I jumped out of bed and joined her in the bathroom. I slowly pulled the shower curtain back and asked, “Want company?”

  Carmen slapped my face with a wet washcloth. “Let me get ready,” she said, gently pushing me aside.

  She slipped on a simple basic black dress delivered by Phyllis earlier. The wise older sister wanted to make sure Carmen would be ready for her date. As I watched Carmen apply her makeup, I put on my wife beater and boxers.

  “How’s your mom?” I asked.

  “She’s going to AA now.”

  “Really?” I was shocked, since both of Carmen’s parents were real guzzlers. Her dad was a part-time truck driver and her mom worked at the post office. “How’s your dad feel about her being sober?”

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s noticed yet,” Carmen answered darkly.

  “Very funny. Does she rag on you now about partying?”

  “Jesse, you know my mom, she’s cool.”

  That was the truth. Both of Carmen’s parents accepted our relationship. They were the most understanding straight people I had ever met.

  “Jesse, my mom told me, ‘You can lead a horse to water but he might prefer whiskey.’”

  I chuckled as I slipped on my slacks. “Want another beer?” I inquired as I headed for the refrigerator.

  “No I’m fine. I want to act like a lady tonight.”

  “That’s right… a lady hooker,” I called from the kitchen. “That’s how you make the big bucks,” I added, speaking from experience.

  Carmen giggled from the bathroom. “I knew all those finishing-school lessons you gave me would pay off one day.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not liking the reference, “I just didn’t think it would be like this.”

  Carmen, who had always been ashamed of her parents’ drunken poverty, coveted sophistication. Her hunger for refinement was one of the things that attracted her to me. Our Tenderloin romance had been filled with ghetto getaways. We took field trips to museums, art galleries, operas, and fine restaurants. Our budding romance included playacting like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle. Her transformation from an impoverished Oakland girl to a stylish young woman was as stunning as her beauty.

  “Open up! Police!” A familiar bear of a voice bellowed through the door.

  “Oh, fuck!” I said as I sprinted to my piece. “Carmen. It’s fucking Captain Clancy!” I grabbed the fake philodendron by the front door and stashed my gun in the pot.

  In a girlish voice, I cried back through the door, “Just a second, Clancy, I gotta get dressed!” I grabbed the weed and flushed it. Carmen rushed into the living room with me and stood by my side. I opened the door.

  Filling the door frame from head to toe stood the immense pig. His Brillo-pad toupee scraped the top of the doorframe as his soft putty face smiled at me.

  “How nice to see you again, Jesse. Good afternoon, Carmen. Aren’t you ladies going to invite me in?” he asked as he entered, pushing us back to the couch. Instinctively, we sat down.

  The tower of trench coat looked down at us. His badge was sloppily pinned on his lapel, next to a few crumbs. His holstered gun protruded from his left breast like a suppressed tit.

  Clancy had conducted numerous raids on gay clubs when he was a young beat cop. Just seeing the same sex dancing together had been a legitimate excuse for him to crack a few heads. He was an oddity among the corrupt cops who ruled the TL since he wouldn’t accept bribes.

  “Hey, Jesse,” he began, “so, you’re a high-rollin’ parasite now, huh? Congratulations.” He gave Carmen a fatherly reprimand. “Miss you at the Why Not. Heard you’re goin’ for the bigger tips now. I thought you were a smarter broad than your older sister.” He shook his head.

  Masking my irritation, I remembered my manners and asked Clancy, “Would you care for something to drink? Do you wanna sit down for a minute?”

  “I’m here on business, smartass.”

  He pulled a Polaroid picture out of his coat pocket and stuck it in our faces. The blank stare of a dead black girl, with a huge bullet hole in her blood-crusted forehead, loomed before us.

  “Jesse, did you know this dead dyke?” he demanded.

  “No, I never met her,” I replied, shocked into honesty.

  “You fuckin’ lezzies all know each other,” he said suspiciously. “Where the hell were you last month?”

  “I was in L.A., like you already know. What do you want, Clancy?”

  A slight flush of color crossed his face. His gaze rested on my young firm breasts that stood erect in my wife beater t-shirt.

  Clancy cleared his throat. “A new witness came forward. She said she saw you with the lady pimp the night before she was killed.”

  “Well it’s awfully hard for a person to be in two places at once. I was in L.A., under treatment for a badly infected arm. I’m sure Dr. Li would be glad to verify that I was under his care at that time.”

  His face grew harder at my retort. “I like that about you, Jesse. A queer hoodlum that always manages to sidestep shit.”

  “It’s nice to have an admirer,” I said with a hint of seduction, just to fuck with him.

  “In case we need you for a lineup don’t go anywhere.”

  “Glad to know you still like having me around.”

  “Well, maybe… it’s nice to see you again,” he replied gruffly, taking a step closer.

  Carmen reached over protectively and took my hand. Clancy’s neck turned red and his jugular vein began pulsating. The smoldering rage which he held on a short leash was about to snap.

  In response, Carmen cuddled up next to me on the couch. She wore a defiant fire in her emerald eyes, glaring at the sexually deprived Clancy. Everyone knew that he went home to a frigid muumuu mama. He’d told me his bonbon-eating wife’s love life consisted of watching the daily soaps.

  Clancy said, “Hooker and pimp. How sweet. You’ll be sucking a lot of dicks to dress Jesse’s pretty-boy face!”

  “I thought you boys shop on Turk,” Carmen snapped.

  We were too quick for him and he was getting flustered.

  “I can’t figure you fuckin’ lezzies out. You don’t even look like a whore, Carmen.”

  I quickly shot back, “I’m sure your wife doesn’t either!”

  Enraged, Clancy pulled out his revolver. Clancy leveled the gun in front of my face. My heart started pounding like an oil derrick.

  “Don’t push me, Jesse!” Clancy rammed his piece back into its holster. His anger subsided, and he added like a kind father, “Jesse, you should let Carmen go. With a man, she could have a good life.”

  He turned his massive body toward the front door and called, “See you in the neighborhood, ladies.”

  He saw himself out.

  Trembling, Carmen and I walked silently to the kitchen. We each took a large shot of Jack straight from the bottle. I held my girl as she rested her face on my shoulder. “I always get into trouble with my bad boy,” she sighed. “I’m happy nothing’s changed.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch is right, though. Maybe I’m no good for you, Carmen,” I replied, suddenly filled with shame.

  “He’s just pissed that he can’t get you in bed,” Carmen said, irritated. Finished with the conversation, she snapped, “Fuck him and the horse he rode in on!”

  Carmen picked up her purse, opened it, and applied dark red lipstick. I threw my clothes on quickly, grabbing my keys and gun as we left the apartment.

  We walked through the TL in gloomy silence. Clancy’s words resonated in my mind and I reflected on the first time I had heard that word, “lezzy.”

  I was twelve years old and spending the summer vacation with my grandmother, Nani Lou.
My father’s mother was a charming woman who I adored. She dressed beautifully, wore her age well and spoke with finishing school diction. I enjoyed staying at the elegantly decorated apartment in the building she managed in North Hollywood.

  One day she rushed through the living room interrupting the television show that I was watching, American Bandstand. Nani Lou was, as a rule, a calm, soft-spoken, kind woman. But on this day she was irate. She raced into the kitchen and started excitedly talking with the property owner on the telephone.

  “Yes, Mr. Andrews, I evicted those two lesbians faster than God made little green apples! I would have never rented to them if I had known that they were lezzies. Judy told me they flirted with her in the laundry room! She’s only sixteen. It’s just awful!”

  As my grandmother expressed her rage, I thought to myself, “That Judy’s a slut.”

  Judy and I had often talked at night out by the pool while she was sneaking a smoke. She always bragged to me about how she could seduce every male in the building. I really didn’t know what a lesbian was, but I knew it was bad. It certainly was enough to get evicted for.

  When my grandmother hung up the phone, I asked inquisitively, “Nani Lou, what’s a lezzy?”

  Embarrassed by my question, she snapped, “Its way too disgusting to talk about, Jessica. You’re too young to know.”

  Carmen pulled me out of my reverie with a kiss. She grabbed my hand and said, “I have to go soon, Jesse.”

  We hit the outer border of the TL at Van Ness Street and ducked into an alley. Parked up ahead was a new black Cadillac. Carmen and I walked over to the district attorney’s car.

  The D.A. gave me a polite nod and took Carmen from my hand. He gallantly opened the passenger door and kissed Carmen on the cheek. Jealousy joined my sadness as he closed the door behind her.

  Phillip said, “Good night Jesse.”

  Living on the edge, we never knew how long anything would last. Happiness had finally come back to me, but now it was stolen away again. Watching the car’s taillights, I had a premonition of disaster. I shook it off, though, being sensible. I had work to do.