The Girl in the Flaming Dress

by Michael J Vaughn

  They enter the Horseshu Saloon like a couple of desperado gunslingers. Their intro music is a country waltz that turns out to be Enter Sandman. This is Gerry’s first hint that Emma is at the piano. They settle at a corner booth and are greeted by a beautiful Italian lady.

  “Dr. Al!” She gives him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Gerry, this is Gaetina LaTorre.”

  She whacks him with her order pad. “Why do you keep using my full name? You goof.”

  “Because your full name is Gaetina LaTorre.” He decorates the syllables with a handful of upraised fingers. “Come on! People would kill for that name.”

  “People have. So what would you like, Signor Alberto?”

  “I’ll take a man-garita.”

  “You! So funny. And your friend?”

  “Um. What’s a man-garita?”

  Al answers. “It’s a margarita served in a manly tumbler without salt, parasols or other prissy effects”

  Gerry drops his voice an octave. “In that case, I’ll have a man-garita.”

  Gaetina lets out a laugh that peals like a bell. “You two are trouble. Wait a minute, are you the Gerry who’s in love with the caffé girl?”

  Al can barely contain himself. “He’s the one.”

  “You are such a cute couple.”

  “Thanks,” says Gerry. Gae smiles and heads off to the bar. Al watches her go.

  “Gae is like Sophia Loren and Cher had a daughter.”

  “And she thinks Karen and I are a couple. Ya know, it’s very generous of me to let Dwight Yoakam’s guitarist have sex with my girlfriend.”

  “A minor obstacle. But I get it. If you confess your feelings right before the big date, you look desperate. But you know what else? Assuming she does hump this guy, it’s probably just a fling. You have to find a way to not hold it against her, because, in the long run, I see you two together.”

  “Dr. Al, old pal. Let us not put too much on my plate. For now, just help me make it through the night.”

  Dr. Al grins. “Kristofferson! Well played. Speaking of, what the hell is going on up there?”

  Gerry gives a listen. “Ah. Folsom Prison Blues, using the words to Pinball Wizard. I’ve heard about this. It’s a perfect match.”

  Al laughs. “God I love that woman.”

  Lonnie has some old-time manners that make him even more irresistible. He walks around the front of the car to open Karen’s door, and offers an elbow so he may escort her into the casino. And, of course, there’s the gift, a pink satin jacket bearing a stitched Doris.

  “I feel like one of the Pink Ladies.”

  “Grease, right?”

  “So you seriously purchased a hot pink jacket in a public store?”

  He chuckles. “I told ‘em it was for my daughter.”

  “Clever.”

  “Thanks. And I admit, I didn’t know it was for you. At the time, you were a little scarce. But I liked it, and I knew I’d give it to somebody, someday.”

  “You are an optimist.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It’s downright sexy.”

  “Sexy? I have never been called that.”

  Karen laughs out loud. Lonnie opens the door for her and says, “What?”

  When it comes to the buffet, Lonnie’s a kid in a candy store. His first go-round nets green beans, macaroni and gouda, Greek-style lamb, brewer’s bread, a shish-kebab, a slice of pepperoni pizza and a black-bean burrito.

  “You know that’s all going into the same stomach, right?”

  “I can take it. Also, I stopped by the bar for these…”

  From his jacket pockets he conjures two mini-bottles of sparkling wine and two plastic flutes.

  “You know what, guitar man? You got style.”

  He smiles. “Now that I’ve been told.”

  A hundred feet away, Julie Lesser sits with her patient at the sports book bar. Kerry is working on her third Long Island iced tea.

  “So what you’re telling me is, you conducted a sort of pre-emptive breakup.”

  “Yep.”

  “Geez, Kerr. Couldn’t you wait till he actually did something? Gerry’s a good guy. I hate to see you get rid of him just out of pride.”

  “But you don’t… Don’t you see? These two… they’re so fucking linked up, like incestuous Siamese twins. One time, I was sitting on his lap, kissing his neck, and he was looking away, talking to her. Like I was the fucking cat.”

  “Yeah. Okay. That could get old. I’m sorry, Kerr. Listen, don’t let it get you down. You’re a catch. You’re a babe. You’ll find somebody else.”

  “Oh please. I’m a fucking monster. Do you know how hard it is to find a man who can put up with my awesomeness?”

  Julie looks at Kerry, wondering if she heard what she just said. The two of them hold their breaths until they burst into laughter.

  Emma is performing Closer by Nine Inch Nails. She replaces the famously profane hook with “I want to pet you like an animal.” This and three man-garitas apiece has Al and Gerry screaming with laughter.

  “Whatever you’re paying this woman…” says Gerry.

  “Double it!” says Al. He trots to the bar to drop a twenty into her tip jar.

  Emma smiles and segues into a rather straight reading of One from A Chorus Line. A trio of scantily clad women come onstage and take turns on a stripper pole.

  “Lay-dees and gentlemen!” Emma emcees. “Fresh from their whirlwind tour of Boise, Sandpoint and Pock-a-tello, the Bada Bing Bimbos!”

  “You dog!” says Gerry. “You knew about this.”

  “It’s for a bachelor party. Those nerdy young men at the bar. They called ahead to get the okay.”

  “Very courteous of them.”

  “So I’m here on a strictly professional basis.”

  “Quality control?”

  “Exactly.”

  A girl with mint-green hair, the more curvaceous of the three, gains a lofty position on the pole, then holds on with one hand while flipping upside-down and performing the splits.

  “Can you imagine?” says Gerry.

  Al grins. “Yes I can.”

  Lonnie is finally done, having evidently used up the last of the space in his hollow leg. Karen’s second champagne is having a pleasant effect. She estimates that now would be a good time to take him home and have her way with him. They’re leaving the buffet when Karen spots Julie and Kerry at the sports book.

  “Hey, do you mind if we take a little detour? I just saw a friend of mine.”

  Lonnie looks hesitant. “Um. Tell you what. Why don’t you do that, and meanwhile I will check in to the restroom. And, um, take your time. I… won’t go into details.”

  “Thank you for that.” She kisses him, which feels like an odd thing to do, and heads to the sports book. The bar is a rather impressive semicircle of white marble, facing an array of TVs offering every sort of competition you could imagine. Kerry’s got her head on the bar, which seems unusual. Julie gives her an ill-formed smile.

  “Hi! Um, Karen. How are you?”

  Kerry raises her head. She looks like a Crayola portrait by a kid who refuses to stay within the lines. She runs a hand through her hair, which only makes matters worse.

  “Karen? Karen? I… what do you want?”

  “Just wanted to say hi. Hey’ I’ve been crazy busy at work, but I really want to get together so I can tell you about the eclipse.”

  “No, no,” says Kerry. She smacks her lips. “Just tell me about the cunnilingus.”

  “I’m… what?”

  “Now Kerry,” says Julie. “Play nice.”

  “Did he do that thing where he finger-bangs you while he sucks on your clit? God I love that.”

  “What are you…?”

  “Did he give you a good pounding, Karen? Did he leave bruises on your coccyx? On your cock-six?”

  Kerry’s language is getting attention from the men in the bar, who sense what looks like a brewing catfight.

  “Kerry? Did
you and Gerry have a fight?”

  “We broke up, you stupid cunt! We broke up because of you!”

  The c-word spikes the male interest. Julie halfway expects them to start laying bets.

  “I’m sorry! But I don’t under… Aigh!”

  Kerry emits an animal sound and lunges at her, but her foot catches on the base of the stool and she spills to the carpet. The men at the table rise from their seats.

  Julie, a master of brawl containment, calls over the bartender to help Kerry, then grabs Karen’s elbow and leads her away.

  “Honey, she’s in a terrible mood and it’s not your fault but you gotta go, okay?”

  “But… but I don’t understand.” She breaks away from Julie’s grip. Julie puts a hand to her forehead, the headache signal.

  “Okay. To quickly sum up. Kerry broke up with Gerry because she asked him if he was in love with you and he said yes.”

  “Gerry… said… ?”

  “Gerry’s in love with you, honey. You’re a lucky girl, now please go away. You know that girl’s a linebacker. If she goes after you again I am not taking one for the team.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  “Believe me, not your fault.”

  Karen wanders into the casino and hides behind the wheel of fortune. She can’t feel her limbs. And Lonnie’s still gone.

  “Okay!” reports Emma. “The girls are now going to do a little walkabout. Feel free to tuck your appreciations into their underthings. But please, no excessive touching or my man Bruno will have a terse discussion with you. Bruno? Really? Isn’t that name a little obvious?”

  Bruno raises his arms. “I swear! It’s my real name.”

  “Well okay then. Popeye.”

  Emma starts into some old-time stride piano that turns into Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me. The girls, dressed in leather thongs and bustiers, scatter through the crowd, extending various body parts in order to collect their tips. Almost as if she were attached to his thought-string, the girl with the green hair comes straight to Gerry’s table. She throws a leg over a chair so Al can tuck a twenty into her waistband.

  “Thank you, honey,” says Al. “You were outstanding.”

  “Thank you. We try our best.” She swats away Gerry’s five. “Hold onto that Lincoln, buddyboy. I’ve got something special for you.”

  She turns slowly around, aims her plump ass in Gerry’s direction and shimmies into a straight-legged bend, making the thong smaller and smaller. She spreads her legs, grabs her knees and pulls her face into the inverted vee. Even upside-down, that smile looks very familiar.

  “Hi Gerry.”

  “Mimi?”

  Like any smart townie, Karen knows not to partake of the gambling. But this is a good time for an exception. In order to limit the damage, she has picked a penny machine and is playing at the slowest rate possible. The theme is Egyptian: scarabs, asps, pyramids, cat-gods. The graphics are stunning, but they come up in so many combinations that, even when she wins, she has no idea why. She sees the pink jacket next to the machine and feels awful, because Lonnie deserves better treatment. Lonnie who drove so far just to see her, and who, based on their previous escapade in Great Falls, is probably expecting sex. Oh god oh god. She may have to do something insane, like tell him the truth.

  The one person who could guide her through this is Gerry. Who is in love with her. Who lost his luscious, fiery girlfriend over his apparent need to tell the truth about that. She feels the stirrings of a beautiful sadness, rising from her chest, pulling at her eyes. Then she feels a hand on her neck.

  “Man!” he says, in that gorgeous Kentucky drawl. “I had no idea you were so into this.”

  She keeps her eyes forward, knowing that if he sees them, the jig is up.

  “Oh, it just… hits once in a while. Must have been something I ate.”

  “Well, um, would you like to get going soon? I thought it might be nice to… be alone somewhere.”

  She turns and looks at him, which succeeds in starting up the waterworks.

  “Karen? What’s the matter?”

  “I’m, I’m, oh god, Lonnie.”

  He wraps her up and pats her head.

  “Hey now, it’s all right. Did you get some bad news? Is this about your husband?”

  “I’m in love with someone else.”

  He pulls back and squints his eyes.

  “Just now? Tonight? Tonight you’re in love with someone else.”

  “I am so sorry. It’s hard to explain.”

  Lonnie steps back and jams his hands into his pockets. “Well I would hope it is. What the hell, Karen.” He looks around nervously, wipes his mouth and holds up an index finger. “Um. Gimme a minute.”

  He turns and goes, all the way out of the casino. That might be it. But she follows his request, just in case, hitting a few vacuous spins. Suddenly the machine goes into a bonus round, shiny scarabs stampeding the screen. And then again, and then again. A minute later, when its little seizure is over, she prints out her ticket, puts on the pink jacket and heads for the exit.

  The door slides open. Karen walks into the warm night and finds Lonnie’s tall form leaning against a low wall, smoking a small cigar.

  “One of those cowboy cigars,” he says. “I keep one stashed away for just such an occasion. My Pop always told me, when you feel the anger taking over your good sense, just take a hike, be by yourself for a while. It’s good advice. I came a long way to see you, darlin’. I wish you would have told me.”

  “I didn’t know. Not till… Well, you were in the bathroom, and I found out something.”

  Lonnie emits a laughing bark. “Defeated by a bowel movement! That’ll teach me to eat all that road food. Wait a minute. Is this about your photographer friend?”

  The shame deepens. “Yes.”

  He tosses the cigar. “Shit! Some dude settin’ me up with his female bestie. I knew it was too good to be true.”

  “The thing is, when Gerry met you, he knew you were just what I needed. And he was right. You helped me through a terrible time. I’m so sorry about this.”

  “Honey, forgive me for not wanting to hear some more nice things about Gerry, but I’m gonna take my shattered little ego and get on down the road. Can I get into your house without you being there?”

  “Key under the mat.”

  He chuckles. “Small towns. You understand me, right? No offense?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “So just… go back to your slots. Give me a little time and I’ll be gone.”

  “What about the… jacket?”

  “You kiddin’ me? It’s yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Goodbye, Doris. You are the finest of the Pink Ladies.”

  “Goodnight, Sergio.”

  Lonnie rides his long legs out of the lot, pausing to kick a can. Karen feels the ticket in her pocket and heads inside to cash it.

  Mimi was one of Gerry’s first boudoir customers. She was a huge challenge, partly because she was huge. Gerry had to find some way to hide 100 pounds of fat and, what’s more, overcome heavy doses of timidity and insecurity. It really pushed his skills when it came to lighting and angles, but it also taught him an important new idea: always look for the sexy, because everybody’s got it. With Mimi, it showed up as she got comfortable. The more Gerry shot, the more he saw the sparkle of those big blue eyes, the cutesy appeal of her round face, and finally, the appearance of a dazzling smile. He took hundreds of shots, found a dozen that met his exacting standards, and began to feel like he might have some skill in this odd new arena. That he might even be able to help people.

  He sits in Barton’s diner with incontrovertible evidence just across the table. The 100 pounds is gone, but Mimi has managed to retain the bubbly innocence. Sadly, the new chassis is now covered in blue jeans and a T-shirt, but that’s probably for the best. She pauses from her omelet to give him a shy smile. It pierces his
heart, or maybe he’s still a little drunk.

  “You were the key, Gerry. Those photographs were magic. I came to you hoping to impress my husband, maybe rekindle a spark in the bedroom. Sadly, hubby was not impressed. But I was. Under all that miserable lard, I saw a woman who could still be sexy. You brought that out. So I signed up at a gym, and in the first three months I lost 200 pounds.”

  Gerry is caught with a mouthful of blueberry pancake. “Hmmpf?”

  Mimi giggles. “The 200 pounds was my husband. The workouts went well, but I knew if I was really going to crank it up, I had to find something that was fun. So I signed up for a class in pole-dancing, and that was it. My teacher, Erin, was so good at giving us the attitude as well as the technique. After a few months, we put together a performance, and it went so well that three of us decided to form our own little company. The bachelor-party thing is still pretty new, so we’re careful about choosing our clients, but god it’s fun. I’m being paid to be sexy! And tonight, when I saw you out there, well, you can imagine. Gerry, you’re like, my hero!”

  Gerry takes a sip of coffee. “I’m so flattered. And thanks for the private show. You really had me going there.”

  Mimi giggles again. “I love picking on the shy boys. Kind of a weakness of mine.”

  “Well, thank you. I was in desperate need of distraction.”

  She pats his hand. “Are you in trouble?”

  “I’m in hell. I’ve sort of got a thing for this friend of mine and tonight she’s out with this male supermodel. And she lives next door. And the walls are not thick.”

  “Oh dear. So you’re trying to stay out as late as possible.”

  “Exactly.”

  The waitress delivers their bill. Mimi grabs it.

  “I owe you a hundred times this breakfast. Besides, the bachelors were quite generous tonight. Shall we go?”

  “Sure.”

  They head for the register and Mimi pulls out a wad of bills. Oh sure, thinks Gerry. Nothing suspicious about that.

  They cross the lot to the sidewalk along Route 93 and take a lazy stroll back to the Horseshu. Somewhere along the way, Mimi takes his hand, which feels good. She leads him across the mostly empty lot to a silver minivan. She draws closer.