Weekends

by Lindy S Hudis

  "That's cool. I wish I had gone to a regular college, learn about all the fraternities your brother talks so much about. So, what are you planning on doing with a psych degree?"

  "Go into social work. I love to help people. Angela always tells me that I have a bleeding heart."

  "Your friend, Angela?” Justin looked her in the eye, smiling.

  Beverly felt her throat tighten. “Yeah, my friend Angela."

  They walked in silence, the only sounds being the thrashing of the ocean and the calling of the seagulls. Tiny round sea puffins hopped to the edge of the sand to dig for fish, and skittered away as the waves approached. Beverly felt a rush being around him. Feelings she didn't know existed, even with Angela. The full moon lighted the ocean just enough to make out dolphins leaping in the distance. They kept walking, the surf tickling their bare feet.

  Her turquoise eyes met his ebony ones. “You and your brother are so different,” she told him, smiling.

  "Yeah, that's the way it is with twins. There is always the emphatic one, and then the spiritual, introspective one.” He threw her a sly look.

  "Yeah? And which one are you?” she asked coquettishly.

  "Wouldn't you like to know?” he answered, winking.

  They both continued to saunter through the surf, smiling, and flirting. Finally, they saw them two silhouettes in the distance, walking back toward the hotel, in their direction.

  "Look, I think that's them.” Beverly pointed into the darkness.

  "Let's go.” Justin began to jog to them, Beverly took his lead. Sure enough, they were indeed the sad, dirty girls from the Velvet Room. Beverly and Justin ran over to them and came to a halt in the sand a few feet away. The two girls looked frightened, so Beverly moved in as slowly as possible.

  "Hello.” Beverly said to them. The tongue-tied girls just looked at Justin and Beverly. “My name is Beverly and this is Justin.” Beverly spoke gently. Justin smiled sweetly at the girls. The two girls were silent and scared. It was obvious they were not from California. “We were in the dining room together this evening, I wanted to come and meet you. I think we are related somehow.” Beverly continued. The girls continued to look at them blankly. This was going to be tough.

  "Would you like to come back to the hotel with us, maybe have something to drink?” Beverly asked. The girls looked at each other. Finally the older looking one spoke up.

  "My name is Shelley, and this is my stepdaughter Lilly.” she spoke very softly, almost inaudible. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk.” Beverly stated pleasantly. These poor things had been through hell at the hands of that detestable man.

  Shelly glared at her, warily. “Talk about what?” she asked.

  Beverly decided to step closer. “I saw what happened in the dining room. I think how that man treated you was disgusting. I just wanted to know if maybe, you both wanted to have a couple of Cokes and...."

  "Yeah, I would. That would be right kind of you.” Lilly interrupted, surprising Shelley. The skinny, filthy, young girl looked helplessly at Beverly. Beverly read the signals.

  "Well then, let's go.” Beverly nodded in the direction of the hotel. The four of them began to head back up the beach to the twinkling lights of the Hotel Del Moor. She noticed that Lilly looked exceptionally frail and unhappy. Something was very wrong here, and Beverly intended to get to the bottom of it.

  * * * *

  Shauna looked at her watch. It was around ten. She wondered if it was too late to call Robert. It was one in the morning back in New York. She was sure he would be asleep, and his wife would probably answer. Besides, she was having too good a time with her cousins, especially Jason.

  The Roxbury Room was rocking, and people seemed to be having a good time. Paul was dancing with a couple of cute brunettes. Joe was getting hit on by every female in the place. It seemed everywhere he turned, there was an overzealous lady just waiting to do naughty things to his sexy body. Joe seemed to take it all in stride. For somebody so rich and good looking, he sure was down to earth and nice. He and Jason seemed to be hitting it off, too. Joe was really fascinated with Jason's work with the FBI, and Jason kept asking about Beverly Hills and if you really saw movie stars shopping at the grocery store there.

  "Sometimes.” Joe had answered. “Really, they're just people. It's no big deal."

  Jason seemed impressed. “Must have been something having grown up with all that."

  "Hey, Philly is pretty cool. All that history.” Joe volunteered.

  "I'd rather have beautiful blondes and Ferraris than the Liberty Bell and Benjamin Franklin's house.” Jason laughed.

  Everybody was dancing, drinking and having a good time. Everybody, that is, except Angela. She leaned over the railing staring forlornly out at the beach. Angela was cautiously watching Beverly and Justin strolling in the moonlight. Why did she have to get drunk and make an ass of herself? Why was she so upset because Beverly simply wanted to meet new people? Maybe she shouldn't have come to this slaphappy shindig in the first place. She was not related to anybody, and felt like an outsider anyway. Maybe she could catch a plane back to San Diego. Beverly would not even notice.

  "Penny for your thoughts.” Angela turned around and saw Joe looking over her shoulder, gazing down at the magnificent beach.

  She smiled pensively. “Sorry I got drunk and all. It was really rude of me.” she apologized.

  "Hey, it's the weekend! You're allowed to let off some steam. I know I am.” Joe guzzled a beer.

  "You know, you really shouldn't mix the grain and the grape.” Angela stated, grinning.

  "Huh?"

  "Your alcohol. You know, never mix beer with wine or champagne. It's a wonder you haven't gotten sick,” she explained.

  "I can handle it.” Joe fixed on her with his devastating, lazuline eyes.

  Was that a shiver that just shot through her body? They both stared out at the ocean, the ebb and flow of the waves. “Isn't the ocean romantic?” she noted dreamily.

  "Oh, yeah, I could never live anywhere else. I'm a California boy to the core.” Joe said gallantly, his long, blond hair flowing lightly in the cool, ocean breeze.

  "Yeah, I figured that.” Angela smirked pertly.

  Joe turned his attention back to the crowd. Paul seemed to be having fun, chatting with some hotties by the bar, and Shauna and Jason seemed to be in deep conversation over a couple of ‘Sex on the Beach's'. Beverly and Justin were nowhere to be found.

  "I guess they caught up with those two young girls and are in the hotel somewhere.” Joe offered. “Do you want to look for them?"

  "Nah, let them do their thing.” Angela was silent for a moment. “Joe, do you know what I really want to do?” Joe shook his head. “I want to go jump in the ocean. Just go dive in. Right now! Wanna come with me?” she asked him, suddenly coming out of her blue funk.

  "I gotta get changed first.” Joe insisted.

  "No, just dive in the ocean in your clothes. Haven't you ever done anything on a whim before, Mr. Beverly Hills?” Angela jumped up and down with excitement.

  "I'll go down there with you, but I don't know if I'll jump in.” Joe guzzled the last of his Bud.

  "Oh, come on. It's not like you can't afford new clothes.” she chided, and took both of his hands in hers and guided him toward the door. “Come on, let's get crazy!"

  Joe laughed loudly. “Are you still drunk?"

  "Yes, I'm drunk on life. Now let's go, Joe.” She lightheartedly leapt up, pulling Joe with her. The two of them bounding for the door did not go unnoticed by Jason.

  "Hey, where are you two going?” he called out to them.

  "We're going to jump in the ocean.” Angela announced. Joe shrugged as he was being playfully pulled into the elevator.

  Jason turned to Shauna “Wanna go with them?” he asked.

  "Maybe, in a minute.” she said. She needed to get her bathing suit first. The two of them had been intimately talking, Shauna revealing all her personal secrets. She did not kno
w why she trusted him, she just did. She spent the evening baring her soul, while he listened intently. When she looked into his shadowy eyes, she literally felt her legs go weak. Jason knew about her father, her mother, her angry brother, and her affair with Robert.

  Jason shook his head at her on that one. “Never date a married man, sweetie. It's a no-win situation."

  "You think?” she looked at him questioningly.

  "No, I know. First of all, a guy who cheats on is wife is a prick.” he said sternly.

  "He's getting divorced,” she told him innocently.

  "He's lying."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I'm a guy. We lie!” he smiled at her jokingly. “All kidding aside, let me tell you this. Men have ‘low self-esteem radar'. They can spot an insecure woman at fifty paces. You might as well have a bull's eye painted on your forehead."

  Shauna sighed “Just my luck. What do you suggest I do?"

  "Well, first of all, forget about your married lover-boy back at school. There are plenty of fish in the sea.” Jason advised, and crunched on an ice cube.

  "Yeah, but I'm tired of fishing.” she exclaimed exasperated.

  "You met me!” Jason grinned playfully.

  "Yes, I sure did.” she murmured, eyes low. The music was blaring a disco tune, and candle's flame was flickering in the wind. A lone seagull flew overhead and cawed.

  "So, how about we grab our bathing suits and go for a jump in the ocean. Sound like fun?” Jason eyed her intently.

  "Sounds like fun, let's do it.” she answered, gazing into his dark, wonderful eyes.

  The two of them got up and headed downstairs.

  CHAPTER 5

  Thirsty's was a seedy, little topless bar about ten miles out of town. Donnie and the man had found the place in the yellow pages, then taken Donnie's car. The place was a skanky hole-in-the-wall that reeked of cigarettes and crotch. They looked around and made themselves comfortable at a small table near the front of the stage.

  A tired-looking Hispanic waitress ambled over, snapping gum. She had long red talon like fingernails and wore a blonde wig. “What can I get ya'?” she asked sluggishly.

  "A pitcher of Bud.” John Smith ordered, lighting a cigarette.

  While the waitress left to get their beer, the guys checked out the girls. The stage was ‘L’ shaped, with a girl on each end. A guy in a raincoat sat at the stage, rubbing himself. The dancer discreetly flashed him a glimpse of pussy. He put down a ten-dollar bill. Both of the girls swayed back and forth to the music, looking expressionless and timeworn. One of the dancers was horribly overweight and looked very haggard. The other one looked more like a biker chick, covered in tattoos and piercings. Both were clad in high-heeled boots, tiny denim shorts, and tight bra tops.

  The waitress came over and dropped a pitcher and two glasses on the table. “Nine bucks.” she growled. John Smith counted out nine dollars and handed it to her. “Thanks, high roller.” she snickered and sauntered off.

  The girls continued to dance. John Smith poured some beer into his glass and rapidly chugged it. He ogled the dancers on the wobbly, wooden stage. “Hey, isn't this a titty bar? Are we gonna see some tits or what?” he shouted at the girls.

  Donnie roared with laughter. “Yeah, take it off, girlies."

  "We're working for tips, buddy. You wanna play, you gotta pay,” the biker chick snapped.

  "Pay for what? I just wanna see it, not buy it,” the man laughed viciously.

  "Put your money where your mouth is.” the heavy dancer spat and continued to dance, haphazardly twirling around the pole.

  John Smith started barking like a dog. “Bow wow, this place is bow wow city! Bow wow!” the man loved to make women hurt, even if it was just with words.

  Donnie joined in. “Bow wow! Dogs!"

  The biker chick motioned to a huge Hispanic bouncer sitting on a stool by the door. She pointed to Donnie and John Smith, while whispering something to him. He approached their table. “Is there a problem, guys?” the bouncer asked.

  "Yeah, your girls have an attitude problem. We are customers and they are being rude to us,” the man stated smartly. Donnie tossed off his glass of beer and poured himself another one.

  "Look, we're all here to have fun, okay guys? No problems!” he said to John Smith sternly. The bouncer walked away and sat back down on his stool.

  "Sure, no problems. We just wanna see some tits, that's all,” the man answered forcefully. He turned back to Donnie “Don't you wanna see some tits?"

  Donnie belched. “Yeah, tits whooo hoooo! Tips for tits, tips for tits!” he yelled.

  The song ended and the biker chick left the stage. She passed by their table on the way to the dressing room and gave them a nasty look. John Smith called after her. “Hey, is it my fault you have to do this for money?” he snarled through a belligerent grin.

  She turned back and spat venom. “Is it my fault you have to be here because you can't get a woman?” she said and disappeared into the dressing room.

  Donnie hooted with laughter. He was one revolting drunk. The man felt something inside of him snap. A feeling he always got whenever a woman insulted him. It was an angry feeling. He had the urge to hurt someone. What did that slut mean ‘can't get a woman?’ John Smith got women all the time. He has no trouble getting girls. In fact, that's why he was here—to get a woman. He was going to prove that bitch wrong.

  Donnie was loud, drunk, and his beer was running out of his mouth and down his face. Why did John Smith ask this vile, redneck to accompany him? Another song started and fat ass was still on the stage, her top still covered up. The man in the raincoat was joined by another man in a raincoat, who put a dollar on the table and reached inside his pants. Where was the bouncer when this shit was going on? John poured himself another glass of beer. He looked up in time to see a very pretty, young girl emerge from the dressing room. She was a cute redhead, with emerald eyes and a dangerous figure. She smiled as she passed their table, then mounted the stage and did a twirl on the pole. She was genuinely a good dancer, and had a cute personality, too. John Smith watched her as she took off her top, revealing large, perky breasts.

  She danced with high energy through the whole song and glanced over at John Smith and Donnie. She waved. “Hello! Welcome to Thirsty's, gentlemen.” she said cheerily. She was beautiful, too.

  "Gentlemen? A gentleman is a man who takes off his hat before punching his lady in the face.” John Smith mumbled, and winked at her.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  The song ended. John Smith and Donnie mock applauded, neither tipped her. “So what's your name, sweetie?” the man lit another cigarette and blew smoke at her.

  "Devin.” she answered congenially.

  "What's your real name?” he challenged.

  "I'm sorry, but we're not allowed to tell the customers our real names.” Devin apologized.

  "What is a cute girl like you doing in a rat hole like this?” he stubbed out his cigarette.

  "I go to school during the day, and I work here at night. This helps me pay for my books."

  "Where do you go to school?"

  "U.C.S.B."

  John Smith chuckled to himself, remembering Brianna. “Funny, you are the second student from U.C.S.B. I've met tonight."

  "Women should not be let to go to no school. They should not know no writin’ and readin'. A woman's purpose is to wait on a man.” Donnie grumbled. He was now very drunk. John feared he might ruin their plans. He looked over at the moron and gave him a ‘zip your lip’ hand signal. Donnie cackled like a hen. Everybody in the place stared at him, including the bouncer.

  Another song started and Devin had to get up and dance, switching sides with the plump dancer. They watched her shimmy, her flab jiggling. John Smith couldn't resist, and he pulled a dollar out of his wallet and placed it on the stage in front of her. “This is so you keep your clothes on.” he leered, having a nasty laugh at her expense.

  "Fuck yo
u.” she stammered, and kept on dancing. The man looked over at Devin. She smiled and waved, he waved back. It was no use going after women like fat ass or the biker chick. It was useless destroying women like that, who looked like they had been ridden hard and put up wet. The kind of women you set out to ruin were the ones like Devin. Ones that were bright, young and full of life. Devin was the kind of girl who didn't belong there. She was the kind of girl who would be somebody someday. She was the kind of girl who would never give him the time of day if they had met outside of this stinking bar. Yes, that was the kind of girl you went after and destroyed.

  * * * *

  They all sat in lounge chairs out by the sparkling pool. The underwater light made the pool look like a giant blue diamond, or so Lilly said. They sipped soft drinks and snacked on peanuts. The rumble of the Jacuzzi in the background added more placidity to the moment. Beverly was glad to see the girls finally coming out of their shell. Shelly was actually quite animated, and Lilly was so innocent and kind. Beverly was also impressed at how patient and friendly Justin was to the painfully timid girls.

  They explained to Beverly that they had driven out from Mississippi a few days ago, sleeping in the car and eating fast food. Beverly told them the story of how they were distantly related, that how Lilly's father's sister, her aunt Linda, was married to her Uncle Stephen, who was her mother's brother. Lilly was confused, and Justin told her not to worry, family reunions were supposed to be confusing. She also conveyed how Justin's father had been married to cousin Kathy, who grew up with her Aunt Linda and her father. Justin shot Beverly a look when she told them that she and Justin were hardly related by blood at all.

  Shelly explained that Lilly's real mother had died when Lilly was very little, and that she and Donnie had only been married a few months. It was very nice, Beverly thought, getting to know these girls. It had been a very long time since somebody was kind to them. Beverly knew that there was something more to the story, though. Something sinister was definitely afoot, as when Justin tried to hug Lilly, she jumped away in fear. Beverly knew the signs of emotional abuse; it was just so hard to prove. Physical abuse, yes, as there are bruises and welts, but sexual and emotional abuse are more difficult to establish. It did not take a rocket scientist to see that Donnie McCoy was poor white trash, and that these girls had been through emotional hell. At least they seemed to be opening up to Justin and Beverly.