by P J Gilbers
He shrugged. “I’d love to take you, show you the sights, I have a lot of connections,” he leaned closer, “when you are truly ready, Little One.” He rubbed my knee, slowly moving his hand up and in. “I keep an apartment there. Fantastic view of downtown, you’d love it. Large bed. And other things you would grow to enjoy and appreciate. Maybe some weekend? Lots of toys to play with.” He bit my earlobe.
“Perhaps. When Jack is doing better.”
“Yeah, I heard he fell. Some sort of disturbance at Leonardo’s.”
He looked at me with a smart-assed all-knowing look.
“Yes. He’s doing much better now.”
His hand moved higher.
“I don’t mean to pry…but I heard you’re bi-sexual. I have to tell you that the thought of you and another woman and me in Chicago…very, scalding hot, Sam. So hot. I’d make it worth your while, like Jack does. Just name your price. I’ll top his. I can help you, guide you, find what you truly desire. And...you will be mine. Just name your price...”
I stared at him in disbelief. I wanted to throw my coffee in his face but I didn’t want to get Jack in trouble.
Smiling, I took his hand, placed it on my chest and said:
“John, my hot little soldier, I couldn’t bear to share you with another woman. Or man. Or beast. If it was going to happen it would have to be just you and me.”
He smiled a knowing smile although I had no clue what he knew. I gave him a long luxurious, sucking kiss on his hand, putting his middle finger deep in my mouth.
He cleared his throat.
“I’ll make all the arrangements.”
“When Jack is better.”
“Right.”
I felt physically sick. I had no one to turn to with this. If I told Jack or Fritz they may have a discussion with John. And John was the director. I had no idea how this could play out, didn’t understand the power structures, the politics.
I paced, ready to scream, ready to rip John Black’s head off his shoulders.
I wanted a drink.
Jack and I had almost done it yesterday. It was fantastic, no doubt about that, but now I saw it in a whole different light. I was just a very expensive whore. And when his foot was healed—or perhaps before—I would be let go. Probably replaced. Fritz was right, I was too damn naïve. Too stupid.
And then what?
I went back to my little chair and watched Jack seduce Shandi. It wasn’t at all like I thought it would be. They had to repeat parts over and over, but every time he took her in his arms, kissing her breasts, climbing on top of her, I felt my stomach twist.
U.S. Marshal Biggs was standing over the grave. He touched the headstone. It was raining, just a little, and the earth's scent wrapped around him, reminding him that his daughter was six feet under it.
"Happy Birthday, baby." He sang to her, choking on the last lines. He saw his ex-wife heading for him. He turned, and strode away, never looking back.
I had to leave. I stopped one of the crew.
“Hi. I was wondering if there’s a bar within walking distance of here?”
He smiled.
“The Lone Elk is right across the street. I can show you, if you like. I’m Blue. Willie Blue.”
“Thanks. Maybe next time.”
It was easy sneaking out. I just followed some of the crew who were bringing in boxes and taking out props.
I felt like a rebel walking to the bar. All the way across the street. Yeah, that was me, wild woman.
The Lone Elk was a country bar that had seen better days. The red front door had a broken spring dangling down like a dead rat. The long bar ran along the right side with a gilded mirror and a vintage nude painting.
Tables were placed randomly with three mismatched booths on the left. The middle table held the only customer, a very tall, older man in overalls and a plaid shirt.
I went to the bar.
“Boiler maker,” I said. I figured that’s what wild women drank in the morning. Just to get warmed up.
The bartender poured a beer and a shot. I paid him with the last of my money and took them to a table. CNN was on the big screen television reporting on a freak attack of locust.
I’d never been in a bar alone or a bar this early in the day.
The shot was fairly smooth, as smooth as watered, cheap whiskey gets. And the beer was cold.
The overalls man turned and smiled at me.
“Pardon me,” he stood and gave me a little bow. I thought he might bump his head on the ceiling. “Perhaps you’d allow me to buy you a drink.”
I smiled. Why not. That’s what wild women did. Probably.
“Okay.”
He went to the bar and brought two beers and two shots.
“Unusual to see a pretty, young woman in here this early. I’m just getting’ off a work so this is my evenin.’”
“Where do you work?”
“The studio. I’m in maintenance. Once in a while I get a few parts when they need a big, tall guy. I was a Wookie. You know, Star Wars.”
“No kidding?”
“Not Chewie but I was a Wookie. Hot! Man, those costumes were blazing hot. But it was fun. What do you do?”
“I work for one of the actors over there. He broke his ankle. I give him some therapy, help him a bit.”
“Jack? You work for Jack?”
“You know Jack?”
“Sure. I know Jack. I pulled him and Fritz out of a bar brawl once.” He laughed. “Over some woman. You know Jack.”
“Yeah, I know Jack. Boy, small world.”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Sam.”
“I’m John. John Paul, as in Pope man, that is,” he threw his large head back and laughed.
He rubbed his belly.
“Tell me, Sam, what’s got you so upset? I’d be willing to bet you’ve never been out drinking like this…alone…before noon. You’re not the type. Something’s wrong. Old John Paul’s a good listener.”
I took another drink, feeling warm and relaxed, liking old John Paul more and more.
“This man, this man also named John but definitely not the Pope, he invited me to go to Chicago with him.”
“Okay.”
“Whatever my price. Just like Jack paid me.”
“Oh.?”
“It would appear people think that I’m a high priced whore, John Paul.”
“Now, now.”
I let one unexpected and uninvited sob slip out.
“Just because that’s what this bastard said that doesn’t mean anything. Now, come here and sit on my lap. Come on. Have a good cry. Get it all out.”
I felt like I was five sitting on the big man’s lap and I did cry, finishing my beer.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Al.”
“Al?”
“Yeah, that’s me, Al Pacino.” He laughed louder this time. I laughed, too. “Who do you want to be?”
“Grace Kelly.”
“Grace, you’ve got great taste. Lord, she was beautiful. Now, you were saying you didn’t know what to do. Larry, another round for me and Grace.”
“I love three men. And one man is trying to kill me.”
“One of the three men is trying to kill you? Why do you love him?”
I threw back the shot.
“Wow! These are going down so smooth, Al. The man who is trying to kill me isn’t one of the three. There’s this really bad man who raped me. He cut me up….thinks he’s a Satan worshiper. He went to prison. And then he got out. He escaped. And now he’s here and he wants me back. See,” I lifted my shirt and showed him my pentagram.
“Larry, come here, you gotta see this.”
The bartender looked at my belly.
“Lord have mercy.”
“So now he’s trying to catch me…”
“You shouldn’t be out on your own, little lady,” said Larry. “Anybody we can call to come and get you?”
“No. Shhh. I’ll just
sneak back to the studio. Nobody will know I was gone with my good friends Larry and Al Pacino.”
“So, you said you love three men.”
“Yeah. Jack and David and Fritz. And they’re driving me crazy.”
Larry pulled up a chair.
“They all love me—which is really nice to be loved—just like I love you guys…” I hugged them both…”but Jack gets so pissed if I go out with David and Fritz wants to buy me a castle and make babies…and David’s just being so sweet and nice. I don’t know what to do, Al.”
“Close your eyes. You’re marrying Larry here. You’re at the altar. One of the three walks in with a gorgeous blonde. Your heart’s breaking ‘cause you know you really love…”
“Jack,” I whispered and closed my eyes, fading in and out.
Al wrapped me up in his arms, rocking me.
“Take her phone, there. What numbers she got listed? Is Jack on there?”
“Yeah. A detective, too. Damn. Poor kid, get cut up like that. You want me to call Jack?”
“No!” I mumbled.
“Yeah. Punch the number and give me the phone. Better get a trashcan over here; you know this girl’s gonna be pukin’.”
I could hear Jack’s voice.
“Sam, where the hell are you?”
“Jack, it’s me, Doug Larsen. I have Sam. We’re at the Lone Elk. She’s kind of sleepin’ peaceful in my arms but I thought you’d want to send someone to get her. I’d bring her to you but it’d look real bad. Especially since John Black is…well…anyway. She’s safe.”
“Why is she sleeping?”
“Shhh. Don’t tell Jack where I am, Al.”
He laughed.
“A woman her size downing three boilermakers in oh, about an hour or so…you get the picture. I’m hoping she starts puking pretty soon.”
“Ah, fuck. Hey, thanks a lot, man. Lord, she could’ve gotten snatched. I’ll send a guy named Roger over. He’s about six two, Marine. Blonde. Wearing all black. I can’t thank you enough. Want a part?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”
“Jack? Just so you know, she loves you. She told me. Ease up on her. She’s, wow, she’s amazing.”
“Take me home, Al. I love you.” I patted his Wookie chest.
He laughed and gave a loud Wookie howl.
Gabrielle smiled.
“Imagine our grandchildren, Ted, if she married the Wookie. They’d be seven feet tall.”
“Who the hell wants grandchildren seven feet tall? Where would she buy them shoes?”
“Still, he seems awfully nice.”
“He’s in a bar at ten in the morning. Here comes Roger. Now Roger would make some fine grandchildren…That man is built.”
He held me, rocking me, singing me a sweet lullaby.
“Listen to me Sam,” he whispered, “if you don’t want Jack, or David or Fritz, you think about old Doug, okay? I’d take care of you, sweetheart.”
“Okay, Al. I think that would be ever so nice.”
I heard the door swing open. My eyes were still having a rest.
“Sam! Okay, I’ll take her now. ‘You get her drunk? If you touched her…”
“Back off, boy. I’ve been taking good care of Sam for Jack. Maybe I’ll just keep her here until he comes a get her hisself.”
“Sorry. You’re right. But I think we need to wake her up and get her ready to roll, right? We don’t want the press in here taking her picture, talking about Jack.”
“Amen. Larry, maybe a cold towel, okay? Sammy, sweetheart, Jack’s lackey is here to pick you up.”
I decided not to open my eyes. I knew the grimace Roger had on his face and I did not want to play with him at the moment.
“The name’s Roger.”
“I’m Doug.”
“Sorry. ‘Guess I just saw her lying there…she’s in a lot of danger…”
“We know. She showed us her belly, God love her.”
“She showed you her belly? Woman cannot hold her liquor.”
Larry patted me with the wet towel. It smelled a little funky. I opened my eyes.
“Hi, Al. I don’t feel too good.”
“I’ll take her to the bathroom.” He stood up and carried me to the back.
“Hey, Doug, I can do that.”
Doug didn’t turn around. I don’t know how many times I threw up. I stopped counting at seven.
I walked out, trying to smile. Larry gave Roger a Bloody Mary to help with my hangover. I hugged Doug and Larry.
“Maybe I’ll see you on the set. Jack’s getting me a part.”
“You know Jack?” Roger asked.
Doug grinned.
“And Fritz and David.”
I hugged him again.
“Thanks for everything, Al.”
“You bet, Grace. See you in the funny papers.”
Roger checked the street before he would let me walk out.
“Damn, it’s so bright and hot out here. Let’s go back and see Al.”
“Get in the car, Sam.”
“Let’s just walk. It’s right over there.”
“You can hardly stand up and you have puke in your hair, your eyebrows, your leg. You’re going back home. Sam, listen. You ever leave like that again and I will call Silverman and have you locked up for your own damn good! I can’t believe you did that.”
“I got mad at John Black.”
“What did he do? Did he hurt you?”
We got in the car.
“No. Are you going to take me back to the studio today?”
“No. I have strict orders to keep you at the house. Tell me what John Black did. I’ll catch him alone and beat the shit out of him.”
“I’ll tell you on two conditions.” I lay down on his lap finding it a much safer place than the spinning I was discovering sitting up. And I liked Roger’s lap, I decided. I rubbed his thigh.
“Sam, I can’t drive like this. Lord have mercy. I sure hope no one’s watching. What two conditions?”
“Number one, I go back to the studio as fast as I can, number two, you don’t do anything to John—‘cause I’m going to fix it myself—and you can’t tell anyone what I tell you, and three…”
“I thought there were two?”
“I thought of another one, very important, you take me to the store before we go back.”
“You’re asking a lot.”
“You wanna know a lot, don’t you Roger Dodger?”
I sat up. It was a bad idea so I lay back down.
“Deal?”
“Okay. One condition, though. If it’s really bad the deal’s off and I beat the shit out of him.”
“Okay.”
“Drink your drink. Your friend Larry made it for you.”
“Weren’t they the sweetest guys? I’ve got to go back and visit them. They were so sweet!”
“Oh, yeah. You just don’t meet a stranger, do you? John Black—focus—what happened that got you so damn upset?”
“He wanted to pay me. For sex. Like Jack does—his words. A trip to Chicago, preferably with another woman because he heard I was bi. I could name my price. He would top Jack’s price! Yeah, he knew all about the Leonardo thing. Then he said he would compensate me…like Jack does.”
The tears finally rushed out. I buried my face in his leg.
“Maybe that is what Jack’s doing. I’m just a high paid hooker. Maybe I’m just naïve. A fool. A damn fool.”
“John Black is a world class ass and everyone knows it. John’s wrong. And trust me, Jack’s just not like that, honey. Honestly. He’s not that kind of man.”
He stroked my hair, wiping tears away. Thoughts of being naked, cool sheets, and Roger were seeping into my altered brain.
“My life is so screwed up, Roger. I piss Jack off all the time.”
“Quit dating David. You’re scaring the shit out of him and men hate that.”
“I can’t. I need to see David.”
�
�Why? Do you love him?”
“Yes, but that‘s not why.”
“Just tell me, Sam.”
I took a big drink, the pounding in my head starting to ease.
“He’s helping me work things out.”
“Like fucking.”
“Stop it.”
He was quiet.
“That’s it isn’t it? He’s helping you. Because you can’t have sex. That’s why nothing’s happened with Fritz or Jack yet.”
“Do you all have a little newsletter you share in the mornings…’Sam got kissed six times, Fritz made her cum, Roger got laid last night, pork bellies are dragging…’? How do you know I haven’t had sex?”
He laughed. “Fritz made you cum, didn’t know that one. I want details.”
I bit his thigh.
“Wait. You just said you haven’t had sex. That means more than just with the two of them. That means at all. You were a virgin when you were raped?”
“No!”
“Since the rape then.”
I didn’t answer.
He was silent for a long time.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” He rubbed my neck and back. If I’d been a dog I’d been thumping my leg it felt so good.
“I often forget the kind of hell you’re in. So David is like your sex therapist.”
I nodded.
“Swear you won’t tell Jack.”
“If that’s what you want, but he’s going to find out.”
“I know.”
While I was in the shower my phone rang. Getting out I saw my message light blink. It was David.
“Hi Sam. I’m stuck in Japan for another day. Won’t be back until late tonight. Sorry. Call you tomorrow. Call if you need me.”
Damn. I really wanted to see him tonight.
I dressed in a hurry and smiled, thinking about my plan for John Black. I made a Wookie sound and giggled. Which made my head hurt even more.
When we got back to the studio the doors were open and Jack was drinking a bottle of water.
He gave me a big hug, which I wasn’t expecting.
“If you ever pull anything like that again I’ll duct tape you to the wall. Or to Roger, which is pretty much the same thing.”