Sunday Funday

by Annalise Wells

  “It does seem strange when you look at it, but you’re right,” I reply as she leaves the car. I wait.

  Susan walks into the pharmacy as I lean on the hood of the car and wait for her. My cell rings in my pocket. I look at the display and see Ty is calling.

  “Hi.”

  “I think I might have found out how to get the money out of the vault in the club,” he says.

  “We have actually planned to go back to the club and get into the back of the house,” I reply.

  “We will do that as well, but for Sunday, I think I have it sorted.”

  “Okay then, how do we get the cash out?” I ask.

  Ty laughs through the phone. “We don’t, they do that for us.”

  “You’ve lost me, why would they bring the cash from a vault?”

  “Because it’s full of water.”

  “And how the hell are we going to fill the underground full of water?” I ask plainly.

  “You should see the size of the two swimming pools.”

  “I like your style Ty, all we need is a way to empty the pools,” I reply.

  “Yeah. That’s where I got stuck. Maybe Bob has some insight on how we can do that.”

  “I’m out with Susan trying to buy some drugs, so he will have to wait until later,” I say.

  “Out buying drugs?”

  “Sleeping pills and anti-smoking tablets. I’ll explain later,” I say. “By the way, you’re coming to the swingers club, in a day or so.”

  “Swingers club. Me?” he asks. “How the fuck did Joseph manage to get out of all of this? He just had to have a holiday now! Fuck! And Beau. Fuck!”

  “And Cally of course.”

  “I’ll be glad when all this over. I don’t know if I am coming or going,” he says laughing.

  “Ty, I have to go, Susan is coming out of the pharmacy.”

  “I’ll see you back at the club later.”

  “Do me a favor, and break it to Cally about the swingers club.”

  “Owen, Cally worked in a club. A swingers club to her will be nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “If you say it like that, it makes me feel so much better.”

  “Information is like water. Difficult to hold on to and hard to keep from leaking away.”

  Janey

  “Your hair is your ball gown that you never take off.”

  Mikey arrived in jogging pants and a t-shirt ready for his trip to the salon. He was a brave man to face up to this, but he had Bell and me to take care of him. It would be the job of the girls to do his makeup on the night we went to the club.

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “A salon, it isn’t a big one with lots of people. Karen mentioned one out of the way, so we have booked it privately to save any embarrassment,” Bell says.

  “Thank god for that, I was thinking it was going to be full of middle-aged women gawking at me.”

  “We also have to get you a wig and something to wear. The clothes might just be the hard part,” I say.

  Bell pulls Mikey’s car from the courtyard and drives down the street. I hear him in the rear of the car huffing and puffing.

  “This isn’t normal you know.”

  I turn to the back of the car. “I know, some men do it though, out of choice,” I reply.

  “I’m glad I’m not one of them, I’m as straight as they come,” he emphasizes.

  “I’m sure you are Mikey, and maybe we can find you a good woman while we’re out.”

  “I do okay. Although, maybe not for a while, but I do okay.”

  “Mikey, don’t sell yourself short and settle for doing okay, you want to be great,” Bell shouts from the driver's seat.

  Mikey leans on the front seats and pushes his head between Bell and me. “I was lying, I’m not doing okay. I haven’t been doing okay for over twelve months.”

  “You haven’t had carnal relations in over twelve months?” I ask.

  “Not meaningful, you get hookers, but they’re not the same.”

  “No personal connection, hey?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m a big believer in that spark that you need to feel with someone, one-night stands are shallow in my eyes,” he says as he leans back in the seat.

  “Well Mikey, in less than a week, you will be a very wealthy man and women will look at you a lot differently when you have money.”

  “Fuck that. I don’t want a fake, trophy girlfriend. I want something real. You lot have something real with your guys, that is what I want.”

  “We will see what we can do to help you,” I say smiling back toward Mikey.

  Bell pulls the car to the side of the street. “Here we are, ‘Hair to be Wild,’” she says looking at me.

  “The name doesn’t give me much confidence,” Mikey says.

  “Never judge a book by its cover. Look at yourself,” Bell says.

  “Right, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Mikey says as he pushes open the rear door.

  We walk into the salon and see three girls sitting, looking toward the door. Well, one wasn’t really a girl, he must have been close to Mikey’s age, but slightly older.

  “Hello, you must be Bell, Janey… and you’re Mikey?” the guy says.

  “He is gay,” Mikey whispers.

  “Mikey, of course I’m desperately gay, and I’m the best person for this. I know exactly what you’re going through,” the guy says as he walks into the back room.

  Mikey’s face goes pale. “What did you tell him?”

  “We might have mentioned you were finally coming out and wanted to make a big splash,” I say.

  “Jesus Janey, they think I am gay, and we haven’t even started.”

  “We can’t exactly say we’re going to a swingers club and you’re going to drug someone.”

  He looks at me. “It does have a different ring to it, I suppose.”

  “Right then. Firstly, I am a man, but call me Rebecca, and what do you want doing?” Rebecca says locking the door and closing the blinds.

  “Top to bottom. We need the full works,” I say.

  Rebecca walks around Mikey with his hand on his chin. He turns to the two girls sitting by the mirrors. “Jenny, can you make a very, very large pot of coffee? I think we’ll be here for quite a while.”

  “What do you mean quite a while?” Mikey asks. “You saying I’m well below average?”

  “Oh no. It’s just that you’re a waxing virgin, and you have an incredibly hairy body,” Rebecca says. “We have to take it nice and slow. Just like we do with all virgins.” Rebecca giggles and walks away from Mikey.

  “Strip,” Rebecca says as he exits from the back room.

  “Pardon?” Mikey asks.

  “Strip to your shorts. We have to get to your hairy bits.”

  “I’m hairy all over,” Mikey explains.

  “You can strip butt naked then, we have to wax your ass, anyway.”

  “You’re going to be pouring hot wax on my butt?”

  “We have to, you will be running around like a little rabbit with a bushy bit at the back if we don’t.”

  “Janey, Bell, I should be getting double for this,” Mikey says with a look of utter disappointment plastered on his face.

  I actually agree with you.

  “What do we call you once we have finished with you?” Rebecca asks. “I don’t think you will be Mikey.”

  “What was it again?” Mikey asks Bell.

  “Soraya,” Bell calls from behind her magazine.

  “Ooh, that is a lovely name. I should introduce you to my friends.”

  “Maybe in the future, I’ve to get used to myself like this first,” Mikey replies as he lays on the bench.

  “Pedicure and manicure?” Rebecca asks, looking at me.

  I nod and smile. “Everything.”

  “Soraya, have you ever had a bald sack?” Rebecca asks.

  “Eh?” Mikey says as he lifts his head.

  “Your balls, have you ever had them all soft and
smooth?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “You will love this then, I’ll shave you myself.” Rebecca says as he mixes the hot wax.

  “Will this hurt?” Mikey asks as the hot wax is spread on his chest.

  “Yes, it will hurt,” Rebecca says. “A lot!”

  Rebecca waits a few seconds and yanks at the first strip of wax. He holds it up to the light. Mikey's chest hair is firmly stuck to the wax.

  Mikey screams, “Mother fucker. That hurt.”

  Mikey looks at the bare strip on his chest and then rests his head again. Rebecca spreads and pulls. Mikey’s chest slowly becomes bare and smooth.

  “Tell me if you need to stop for a break at any time,” Rebecca says.

  “I’ll grab you by the balls when I want to stop,” Mikey says with a grin.

  “You will be a tigress when you’re finished won’t you?” Rebecca murmurs. “We will do the chest and legs. Then we’ll do your nails before continuing with your back and the intimate parts.”

  “What about a wig?” I ask.

  “I have some, wait until we see how Soraya looks and then we can decide.”

  Bell is transfixed with the magazine she is reading as I watch Mikey being slowly plucked like a Thanksgiving turkey. Not that he resembles a turkey, he is going a lovely shade of pink, more like a prawn.

  He does look better with no hair, he no longer resembles a skillet scrubber. After thirty minutes, Mikey sits on the bench to face us. His words of disgust including, “fucking,” “cocksucker,” “motherfucker,” and “bastards” had filled the salon, and now he was being silent.

  “You look strange, maybe when you have been finished all over it will look even,” I say.

  “What do you mean, even?” He looks at me with a look of contempt.

  “Take a look.” Mikey stands and looks at himself in the mirror. He glances sideways to look at himself.

  “Ah, I see what you mean. I’m like a scrub brush on one side, and a soft sponge on the other.”

  Bell looks up from her magazine. “Where has Mikey gone?” she asks looking around the salon.

  “I’m here you dope.”

  Bell winks at Mikey. “Sorry Miss, I was looking for my friend,” she replies laughing.

  “Have a seat Soraya, and close your eyes. It’s time for your nails to be done,” Rebecca says. Rebecca signals to the two girls to take care of Mikey’s fingers and toenails. Rebecca sits next to me as I hear one of the girls.

  “Do you want a color when we’re finished?” the girl says.

  “We will see when you’re done,” Mikey replies.

  “Where are you taking him then? When he is ready?” Rebecca asks.

  “A swingers club out of town, over by the turnpike hotel and casino.”

  “Ah, I’ve been there. It was fun, but I never connected with anyone there. The owner is a real bitch.”

  “We have met him,” Bell says.

  “No, not him. His wife, the red-headed one,” Rebecca says.

  “I thought the wife just went along with everything?” I ask.

  “No, of course not. She says, ‘jump,’ and he says, ‘how high?’”

  I have to stick my neck out here and fish for a little bit of information. “We hear they’re wealthy?”

  “Oh, they are, obscenely wealthy,” Rebecca says.

  “What do they do with all the money? I saw the wife, and she sat in their club,” Bell asks.

  “She does that, and won’t really let Regine out of her sight for one moment. She doesn’t trust him.”

  “I bumped into him, and I can see why she doesn’t trust him,” I say.

  “Just be careful with her, she is a cold-hearted biatch if I ever saw one,” Rebecca says. Rebecca stands up from the stool next to me and clasps his hands together and rubs them.

  “Right then Soraya, let me shave your balls.”

  “Your hair is your ball gown that you never take off.”

  Owen

  “The strongest drug that exists for a human is another human being.”

  Three more pharmacies before Susan finds one who would give her the two medications she was after. It was becoming quite well known about the problems these drugs were causing, and women were not very happy about it. Lots of strange complaints had ensued.

  It wasn’t the having sex part that bothered most of the women, it was the not knowing, and not being able to join in and thoroughly enjoy it. It was easy to understand, who wanted orgasms without enjoying them? Or thinking it was all a dream. Really weird mix-ups and unwanted children might result.

  “About time, I was getting fed up with asking,” Susan says.

  “Yeah it’s been a couple of hours,” I reply.

  “What now?”

  I glance at the clock in the car. “It’s almost lunchtime. You want a bite to eat?”

  “I am a bit hungry, to be honest,” Susan replies.

  “Anything you feel like?”

  “I’m easy. The greasier, the better.”

  I glance from the window and notice we’re a street or two away from Ingrid’s construction site. The food truck there was open for everyone, and it saved trying to find a restaurant that was empty.

  “Food truck?” I ask.

  “As long as it’s edible.”

  “Bell and Brent were here a while ago, it was full, so it can’t be that bad.”

  I pull the car down the side of the construction site and stop just past the food truck. I see empty spaces at the tables under the large, orange canopy. It seems we have missed the massive surge of workers that will surely be on their way.

  The menu has burritos and tacos which is a nice change to burgers and fries. Susan sits at the table as I order a couple of tacos and burritos each.

  “I’m as thirsty as anything, it’s too damned hot around here.”

  “I know what you mean, at least it’s cool in the club.”

  “God yeah. Can you imagine dancing in heat like this? Sweat running right down your back and between your legs.” She laughs.

  “This isn’t too bad for a food truck, but not very spicy,” I say.

  “They have some sauce on the truck, I’ll go and get it,” Susan says.

  I bit into my burrito and busily chew through the doughy floury texture.

  “Alyona,” I hear.

  I recognize that voice. That’s Ingrid.

  I turn to see Ingrid walking from the hotel with her hard hat perched firmly on her head. Susan points in my direction. Ingrid waves and begins walking toward our table. A few glances from the workmen fall toward me, they have no idea who Susan or I are, so it must be unusual.

  “Owen, we can’t stop bumping into each other,” Ingrid says.

  I stand from my chair. “Please have a seat,” I say as I pull a chair from the table. “You want a drink?”

  “I want a wodka, but soda good.”

  I get Ingrid a soda. I wasn’t sure if she was a can girl or if she liked to sip from a glass. Ingrid pops the can and pushes it firmly against her lips. She places the can on the table and wipes her mouth. Yup, she is a can girl alright.

  “This heat a real bitch.”

  “We were just saying that.”

  “So, why you have lunch here? This for workers.”

  I look around to make sure no one was close to hear. “We have found where the money goes. Now we have to get it out,” I say. “The swingers club has a vault underneath, but it’s secure.”

  “So why you lunch here?”

  “We were picking up meds. Alyona or Susan… was on medication for smoking and sleeping problems. Her medication can make you do things without remembering,” I explain. “We need access to the vault, and this is the way we can do it.”

  “You think this work?”

  “So far. It’s the best we can think of.”

  “Swingers club, huh? Who is going?” Ingrid asks.

  “Bell and Brent who you know, Cally and Ty who you have never met, and Karen and me
,” I say. “There is also Mikey who will be dressed as a woman.”

  “Bell, that girl with a tattoo?”

  “It is, yes.”

  “I hear her name. Very sexy, I saw her at card game.”

  “Brent was the dealer in that last game.”

  “Ah, I see. He is very good with cards.”

  “So is Karen, she is better than him.”

  Ingrid looks around at the workers who are eating. She turns her head back toward us. “Want me to come?”

  “To the swingers club?” I ask.

  “Yes. I come. Maybe I see something different,” she says. “These drugs. How you going to use them?”

  “We have to get them past security, and we were going to wipe them on the drinking glasses while we distract the councilors,” I explain.

  “Simple and efficient if they work quick,” Ingrid says. “How you get them past security?”

  “Both Karen and Brent are good at hiding things in their hands.”

  “Bah. Pussy. Give to me, and I shove drugs in my pussy.”

  Susan looks at me and glances around the workmen who are oblivious to what Ingrid has just said.

  “When are we going?” Ingrid asks. “And, if they move cash to their club, you still need my guys?”

  “We have to go on Saturday night to access a control panel, and then on Sunday we have action. I think we need your guys to get the cash. We had four trucks arrive last time.”

  “Hmm. And four more on Sunday with luck? I arrange guys and vans.”

  “We hope so.”

  Ingrid pushes her business card toward me. “My cell. Call me about club. I’ll come to your club, and we go from there.”

  “I have to go. Business,” Ingrid says as she stands from the table smiling at us. “I’m happy to see you two getting on so well.”

  Ingrid always seems to come out with a riddle.

  “Don’t ask. I don’t know what she means,” Susan says.

  “She has me baffled. You don’t think she is crazy, do you?” I ask.

  Susan huffs. “She is crazy fucking rich. Have you seen the size of this place?”

  “I wonder what it will be called when it’s finished?” I ask.