Weekend

by Tania Grossinger

  “Well, okay, but I’m not walking up any fourteen flights.” She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him toward the lobby.

  He followed her reluctantly. When they reached the elevators the door opened on a couple locked in a passionate embrace. Fortunately Flo was nowhere in sight. The duo turned and when they saw Manny and Charlotte looking in at them, they burst out in laughter.

  “You didn’t come from the fourteenth floor by any chance, didja?” Manny asked as they teetered out.

  “You better believe it,” the man said, giving him the high sign. “You better believe.” Manny pressed number fourteen hard and pulled Charlotte further into the elevator.

  “I don’t want to upset you, Ellen,” Magda said, stopping her as she crossed the lobby toward the office. She was on her way to meet with Artie Ross to discuss the evening’s entertainment. The quarantine had shut out their feature performer. What they would have to do now was build around Bobby Grant and utilize the dance instructors and other staff.

  “What’s wrong now?” She could tell from the look on Magda’s face it was serious.

  “I just came back from the farmhouse.”

  “Don’t tell me. Sandi isn’t there.” She slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I knew it,” she said, shaking her head. “I knew she would never stay put. Has anyone seen her around the hotel?”

  “I haven’t and I know no one at the front desk has. Maybe she just went for a walk.”

  “But she promised she wouldn’t leave the house. Please, put the service desk on it. Have her paged and send someone to the coffee shop and the Teen Room.”

  “I’ll take care of it. I hate to bother you about this now,” Magda said, her eyes saddened, “but I knew you’d be calling her eventually, and when I tried and there was no answer. …”

  “When there was no answer you knew how I would feel. A cholera epidemic I can handle, but a daughter who might be caught up in the middle of it, I …”

  “I’ll find her,” Magda said and squeezed Ellen’s hand. Ellen walked on, but was distracted by a signal from the main desk.

  “We’re having a lot of complaints about a party on the fourteenth floor.”

  “Party? You’ve got to be kidding. Someone’s having a party on a night like this?”

  “A lot of someones, apparently. What should I do?”

  “Whose room?”

  “A Mrs. Kaplan. Divorcee. She came up with her son.”

  “Well, send one of the bellhops up to ask them to calm down.”

  “I think it might have gone beyond that stage, Mrs. Golden.”

  “Call security then, but be sure to tell them not to create any incidents. Tell them to be polite, but firm.”

  “I’ll pass on your instructions.”

  “Damn,” Ellen said as she entered her office. Sid Bronstein was on her phone, his back to the door. He didn’t hear her enter.

  “You know, Sylvia, you talk as though you believe I brought this situation on single-handed. What the hell do you think I’m doing? And don’t give me that crap about your father. Yeah, well …” He turned about and blanched the moment he saw Ellen. “I can’t talk any more, Sylvia. There’s a lot of work to be done here. Call Lois and go to dinner with her.” He hung up and shook his head.

  “Good old Sylvia,” Ellen said.

  “If anyone wants to know what keeps doctors from making house calls, just tell them it’s doctor’s wives. What’s up?”

  “Got a meeting with Artie Ross to go over the nightclub entertainment. We were supposed to have Buddy Hackett tonight, but under the circumstances …”

  “Can’t be of any help there. Listen, Ellen,” he added, “I just want to tell you what a fantastic job you’ve been doing. You’re absolutely incredible. Some women …” He looked at the phone. “Anyway, with the way Jonathan handled the preliminary situation …”

  “Oh,” she said, “speaking of Jonathan, no one’s seen him since our little meeting here.” She went to the phone and dialed the intercom number to his suite. “If he’s there,” she said, waiting, “he’s not answering his phone.”

  Before Sid could respond, there was a knock on the door and Artie Ross peered in.

  “Busy?”

  “No, I’m just leaving,” Sid said.

  “Had two band members complaining, doc, but they both took bromos and said they’re feeling better.”

  “Good. Let me know if there’s any change.” He started out. “I guess I’ll try to grab a quick bite.”

  “Artie, you haven’t seen Jonathan anyplace, have you?” Ellen asked as he sat down.

  “Jonathan? Come to think of it, no.”

  She thought for a moment.

  “Okay,” she said, “first things first. What are we going to do about getting these people entertained tonight?”

  Nick stopped dead in the hall the moment he stepped out of the elevator. What in hell was going on in Melinda’s suite? He approached apprehensively, not quite sure what to expect. The music was extraordinarily loud, the people apparently unconcerned. Two couples were dancing in the hallway just outside the door and although the music was fast, they clung to each other’s arms as if it were a foxtrot. When one of the girls saw Nick over her partner’s shoulder, she licked her lips and smiled. He saw the half-naked crowd mingling in Melinda’s rooms, shook his head and walked away.

  It was obvious what was going on, but it wasn’t what he was looking for. He didn’t like group scenes. He wanted to focus all his attention on one woman, and in return, wanted all her attention on him. What angered him now was that he had lost his diversion. He was hoping to get his mind off things too. It angered him and he pounded on the elevator button. The doors opened immediately. When they closed, he banged the wall with his closed fist.

  He was so deep in thought he didn’t notice that the elevator had dropped past the lobby. The doors opened on the basement floor. He started out and stopped. “What the fuck …” He was about to press the lobby button when his curiosity got the best of him. What was down here anyway? For want of anything better to do, he decided to check it out. Almost immediately, the doors closed behind him and the elevator went up, responding to another demand. Nick studied the corridor, listened to the sounds and then took a few steps forward.

  Suddenly something or someone moved along the basement wall, maybe a hundred yards ahead of him. All he could make out in the dim light was a shadowy figure clinging against the side and slinking forward. Whoever it was looked as though he was crouching. Why?

  He wondered why it even mattered. The odor, dank and stale, didn’t appeal to him at all. It would be nicer to go back up and sit in the bar and listen to soft music. The figure disappeared around the corner all the way down at the end of the corridor. He was about to leave when suddenly something occurred to him. Maybe there was an exit that led out of this place. If so, it would be nice to know about it. That way he could leave tomorrow if he had to. It certainly didn’t make sense to stick around, especially once Jonathan’s body was discovered.

  He started forward in the direction of the shadow, slowly at first, and then quickly. But as he approached the end of the long corridor, he slowed down and made a great effort to move as silently as possible. It was always best to surprise the unknown. He stopped at the corner and peered around. As it turned out, it was a very smart thing to do.

  twenty

  Melinda’s party had done more than simply spill out and into the corridor. It served as an inspiration for other festivities as well. Some couples who had met there, many for the first time, took their wild and frivolous flirtations down to more private quarters. Others spent their passions in whatever free spaces they could find. All caution had been abandoned.

  When Manny came upon the raucous gathering, he experienced a rather childlike excitement. He wanted it all and he wanted it now. An older, rather buxom woman had stripped down to her panties. She stood on a chair just inside the suite where Manny could see her and did a beat
en-down imitation of a fading burlesque queen at a second-rate roadside tavern. A half dozen men were at her feet, gazing up at her Jell-O-like breasts as they wobbled in the mold. Their shoulders and heads bobbed and weaved in drunken synchronization with her every move.

  When Charlotte peeked in, her first impulse was to run away. It was as though she feared another sort of contamination. In the past few years she had seen some wild things at Catskill resorts but certainly never anything that could compare to this. Had everyone, including herself, gone mad? Manny laughed and held her arm even tighter.

  “This is more like it,” he said, licking his lips. “A man could forget his troubles for sure at a gathering like this.”

  For Charlotte, the noise and the activity was more than she had bargained for. Combined with the booze she had already consumed it made her feel wobbly, dizzy and even a bit nauseated. She continued to hesitate.

  “C’mon,” Manny said again, tugging her forward. He pressed between two dancing couples and pulled her along behind him. She stumbled over something and looked down at a naked man crawling along the floor laughing hysterically. No one paid any attention.

  “Wait,” she started to say, but Manny’s grip was as fierce as his desire. They stopped in the middle of the crowd, just to the right of the woman doing her imitation. Manny stared up at her and studied her body with religious fascination.

  “I want to get out of here,” Charlotte said. The sweet rum and Cokes were beginning to get to her. She swallowed hard to keep the syrupy liquid down but the combined odor of cigarettes, sweat and pungent whiskeys was devastating. The acidlike liquid moved up into her mouth and burned her tongue. She began to choke on it but there was so much noise no one even noticed, least of all the hypnotized Manny.

  The woman on the chair stopped her dance. Immediately one of the worshippers at her feet stood up, scooped her in his arms and carried her deeper into the suite toward Melinda’s bedroom. As Manny’s gaze followed, he saw a familiar dress, a familiar pair of legs and hips barely visible between some strangers. He looked harder toward the corner of the room and spotted her.

  Flo was seated on the floor beside the lifeguard, his head planted comfortably between her breasts. Her slip was up well over her knees and the lifeguard had his right hand placed temptingly between her thighs. Flo’s eyes were closed but the lifeguard’s were concentrated on his fingers.

  Manny dropped Charlotte’s hand abruptly and pushed his way roughly through the crowd. Some people complained and one man even kicked him in the rear, but he was so obsessed he didn’t notice or feel it. He pushed three people out of his path and finally stood just above Flo and the lifeguard. Fury overwhelmed him. The New York money problems, the frustration and embarrassment of his aborted escape and now this. The fucking, slut bitch, screwing around with a younger guy in front of all these people as if her husband—as if Manny Goldberg—didn’t even exist. The fact that he was there for the same reason didn’t make any difference.

  His anger got the better of him. He kicked out and caught the lifeguard in the forehead, grazing it. The lifeguard jumped up in shock, for a second not realizing what was happening. Flo opened her eyes and looked up with a dazed expression.

  “Get the fuck up,” Manny screamed. His mouth strained at the corners, pulling his nostrils wide. All the veins in his temples were visibly outlined under the skin. His fists were clenched; his teeth bared.

  “What the …” The lifeguard felt his forehead and looked for blood.

  “YOU BASTARD!” Flo screamed.

  Manny reached down and took a handful of her hair. He began pulling her to her feet. The lifeguard, his senses regained, grabbed Manny’s wrist.

  “Let her go.”

  “Bug off, schmuck.”

  The lifeguard responded with a well-aimed hard and fast swinging right. His fist crashed into the side of Manny’s head, catching him in the left temple. His head practically spun around but he still didn’t release his grip on Flo’s hair. She screamed with the pain and bit into his wrist. Despite all the chaos, no one tried to break the fight up—they were too caught up in their own sexual pyrotechnics. Flo suddenly kicked her foot up and caught Manny’s groin with her heel. He bellowed and released her, and the lifeguard took advantage of his pain and landed a fist in his kidney. “I’ll teach you who to call ‘schmuck.’ “ Manny toppled over to his right into a crowd of dancers, who immediately moved out of his way.

  The fight was quick, but Charlotte had been close enough to catch it all. A very slight, thin line of blood had formed on the lifeguard’s forehead and the sight of it plus Manny’s rolling in agony on the floor finished off all her resistance. What remained of her rum and cokes came charging up and out. A woman standing nearby felt the wetness on the back of her stockings and turned in time to see Charlotte deliver another heave. The woman screamed and put her hands to her ears. Her action caught the attention of people nearby. Charlotte heaved a third time and the crowd began pulling back.

  Flo and her lifeguard moved quickly to the exit. The bedlam caused by Charlotte’s vomiting was just what they needed to cover their escape. Manny struggled to his feet but a group around him, annoyed that he had created a disturbance, formed a circle with him in the center and every time he tried to get up, pushed him back flat on his ass. Very little of this traveled into the second bedroom where Melinda was still holding court.

  By the time Manny had bulldozed his way out, someone had already helped Charlotte out of the room and Flo had disappeared. He cursed and swung out wildly, making a path for himself. By the time he got out in the corridor, there was no one in sight. For a moment he considered running down the hall and smashing his fist on every door until he found Flo and her lover and made them pay for his humiliation.

  But after a few minutes the impulse subsided and his rage settled down. Some loud laughter caught his attention. Another woman was up on the chair and this time the people around her were encouraging her to play with herself. She slowly let her fingers crawl down from her belly and was greeted with cheers and jeers. Manny wiped the side of his head. It still hurt, but it wasn’t bad enough to take him out of the ball game. He looked back down the corridor, considered his options and turned back to the party.

  He would take care of his bitch wife later, he thought, and worked to get a better position by the chair and the girl.

  At first Nick didn’t quite understand what Melinda’s boy was doing crouched down like that. He was in the corner of the basement where all the stage flats and scenery were built and all the supplies stored. There was no one else around, the work on the staging for the July fourth weekend entertainment having already been completed. Various props and stage pieces were stacked and lined up near the wall. Shelves held cans of paint, dyes and rolls of crepe paper.

  Grant squatted at the base of a cloth flat that had been painted and repainted many times. He held a lighted match to the material. The small flame seemed to leap off its tip as it quickly seized hold of the dry surface. Instantly a brown hole formed and began to expand. A steady stream of smoke rose up and Grant moved to another flat and repeated the maneuver. Although it, too, caught fire rather quickly, the flame was blocked once it worked its way from the material to the frame. Frustrated, Grant looked about frenetically for a way to satisfy his desire for a more demonstrable blaze; a way to symbolically send Sandi and his mother up in flames.

  He spotted a rag in a dye pot and lifted it out. Holding it in his left hand, he lit it from the bottom. A blue-red flame rose so quickly it was as if the fire had been stored in the dirty rag itself, just waiting to be released. He was pleased with the way it looked and flung it into a cardboard wishing well a few feet away. It was at this point that Nick stepped out from behind the corner of the basement wall.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Grant jumped back.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Nothin’? You dumb little bastard. I’ve been standing right over here watching you. W
hat the hell …” He stepped on the burning cinders that had resulted from the fire on the flats. “I think we better get you upstairs.”

  “Don’t you touch me,” Grant said as Nick stepped forward. Nick stopped and smiled at him, hoping the smile would allay some of the boy’s anxiety. “I saw you. I saw you with that man upstairs.”

  Very slowly, the smile left Nick’s face. Grant took another step back, his eyes fixed on Nick as though by magnetic force.

  “What man?”

  “The man in the penthouse. I was on the fire escape before and I looked in the window. I saw him and I saw you too. So you just keep away from me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? What is it exactly that you saw?” Grant didn’t respond. He simply continued to stare. “I think we’d better get you up to your mother. C’mon.” Nick took another step forward and Grant backed further away. He looked behind him and saw his path was blocked somewhat by props, stage furniture and more flats.

  “NO,” Grant screamed. “If you touch me, I’ll tell people everything I know.”

  Nick stopped again. He was beginning to get angry.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. I was never up in any penthouse. All I know is you tried to start a fire down here.”

  “You were, too, up in the penthouse. I saw you. There was a man in there sitting in the middle of the floor with blood on his shirt and he didn’t move the entire time I was peering in. And you were there wiping stuff off the doorknobs with a handkerchief.” Grant wasn’t completely sure what it all meant, but he instinctively knew that it was enough information to place Nick Martin in fear of him. Nick’s hesitation confirmed this. Grant began to be more confident. He relaxed somewhat and started to get cocky. “I coulda told the cop who caught me on the fire escape, but I didn’t. I didn’t tell nobody. Yet,” he added, almost smirking.

  “Well,” Nick said, seeming to relax. Reaching nonchalantly into his pocket and taking out a cigarette lighter and case he offered one to Grant, who turned him down. Grant eyed the space between Nick and the wall. He considered making a dash past him and then down the corridor to the elevators. Nick put a cigarette into his mouth and lit it, moving just slightly toward the wall as he did so. It was if he anticipated Grant’s idea. “You’re quite a guy, aren’t you? Quite the big shot.”