“How you do what?” Arnie asked, uncertain.
“I don’t discriminate, I just regulate, every flavor of ass,” he announced while performing a slightly lude dance from his seat.
They laughed, Rachel with a hand over her mouth and an, “Oh my, that’s…” but she couldn’t think of what it was exactly so she said, “Wow, special,” and stopped.
“Which is funny coming from you,” Quey said to Reggie as the laughter slowed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,” Quey answered, taking a sip. “Your family tree hasn’t branched from a flavor ever!”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? I mean any women you’re related to must be a dark and bulbous thing.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Lookin’ at you. I mean shit, you’re dark motherfucker. Darkest motherfucker of all time.”
Rail and Reggie laughed. “Oh hell, I ain’t so dark,” Reggie said, looking down at his arms.
The group looked at each other for a moment then burst into laughter.
Quey touched the big man’s shoulder and said, “Not so dark, come on man, you’re so dark you’ve gone past black and strait to purple. You’re fucking blurple.”
Laughter erupted. Reggie was cackling so hard he smacked the table and shook liquid from a few of the full glasses.
Dusty shouted, “You’re the first of your ancestry to fuck something lighter than charcoal.”
Rail caught his breath and added, “Yeah Regg, you could burn me up in a bonfire and I’d be lighter than you,” and they all laughed again, Reggie and Quey so hard they were leaning on one another with tears in their eyes.
“Aright, aright,” the big man cackled.
“Got cha?” Quey asked.
“Oh yeah, you got me.”
Quey and Rail high fived and let Reggie laugh it out.
“You know what I wanna hear?” Rachel said and Quey looked to her.
“Uh-oh,” Reggie sounded. “Never good when your woman has questions for your friends.”
“Never good when the friend is Quey,” Rail added.
“I wanna know,” Rachel began and Dusty tried to interrupt so she began again, louder. “I wanna know,” Dusty settled and she continued, “About when you two were teenagers. Before you went off with Cal.”
“Oh, you don’t wanna hear about that,” Dusty said, looking at Quey.
“Yeah, not much to tell really.”
“Come on, two teenagers living on their own, traveling, you had to have some adventures.”
Quey nodded, “Well in order to understand that time there’s really a few things you need to know about hookers and Zooch.”
There was a light round of laughter and then Rachel said, “No, I’m serious. I’ve agreed to marry this man,” she said snuggling against Dusty affectionately for a split. “I think I should know a little more about him. I mean, I all ready know you two were thieves.”
“We were opportunists,” Dusty corrected.
“Like if something no one seemed to notice wasn’t bolted down we seized the opportunity to grab it?” Quey asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, something like that,” Dusty replied over the snickers around the table.
“Look, Rachel,” Quey said seriously and took a sip. “Truth is the world isn’t doing so well and worse off than this rock are the people on it sometimes. Survival is an ugly thing, you ever wanna know first hand just roll out to the wastes or anywhere there’s Once Men.”
She looked at Dusty and asked a question with her eyes. “Savages,” he answered.
He looked at his friend solidly, “Dusty and I saw too much bad and not enough good in those times. I could tell you a lot about those two cocky little pricks who wandered about without a regard for much beyond today but to tell you the truth if they walked in the door and sat down at this table I don’t think I’d recognize them. And I sure as hell wouldn’t waste a drop of shine on ‘em. You wanna know about Dusty, you look at him sitting beside you and know it doesn’t matter what it took to get him here if you can be glad he is.”
Rachel smiled and took Dusty’s hand in hers.
Reggie slammed his shine and added, “Its ugly out there darlin’, and ugly places do ugly things to a man and after a while a man might just do them back.” His eyes had changed. He wasn’t seeing the table or the glasses or the shine. He was seeing something from the past.
“I will tell you this though,” Quey said, refilling glasses suffering from a case of the empties. “I was pissed as hell when he told me he was through. Told me he was staying right here. Remember?” he asked Dusty who nodded.
“You were mad he was leaving you on your own?” Rachel asked.
Quey shook his head. “I was mad he’d figured out what I couldn’t.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
He took a sip. “Something Cal finally taught me. Survival doesn’t matter if you’re not going to live. Without that, might as well just drink the fucking water.”
Reggie raised his glass, “Amen brother.”
And the table drank to that.
The night moved along and Quey used his sheet, folded down, to take some pictures, too many really. “When the fuck did you get sentimental?” Dusty asked and Quey shrugged. He knew exactly when it was, sometime soon after Ryla told him all this was going to be gone in a bit more than a handful of years.
Someone put coins in the jukebox and Rachel and Dusty danced together on the other side of the room to a slow island song. Quey sat beside Reggie watching them and smiling slightly.
“Good for you Dusty boy,” he said softly.
“What’s that?” Reggie asked with a slur, but Quey shook him off.
Arnie had lost his lunch an hour or so ago and had probably wandered off to find a bed. Rail wasn’t looking much better, the old man just didn’t have it like he used to, and it was no surprise when he patted Quey on the shoulder and said, “Think I’m going to turn in. You boys have fun though.”
“Aright,” Quey and Reggie said. Reggie added, “Be good man.”
“Oh, Quey, just come on down when you’re ready, I’ll leave the door unlocked. You know where the room is.”
Quey lifted a glass to Rail who then turned and headed out into the night.
Reggie filled their glasses again and Quey asked, “Hey Regg?”
“Yeah brother?”
“Say you knew, I mean really knew, that this whole place was goin down. That five, maybe seven years from now say, say you knew it’d be gone?”
Reggie looked over at him like he was crazy, “Naw man, town’s doin fine.”
“No, I don’t mean the town. I mean the whole fucking thing. I mean Saffron, all of it. Poof.”
Reggie took a sip of shine and thought. “Don’t know. I mean… what do you mean?”
“Just,” Quey took a sip. “You know, the wastes and all.”
“Oh man, come on,” Reggie began, “Blue Moon’s got that shit.” Quey started to talk again but Reggie stopped him. “They got them tower thingys.”
“Yeah, but say. I mean just say.”
Reggie looked over at the shine runner and saw the distress hanging on his face. “What cha talkin’ ‘bout over there?”
“Just been thinkin’.”
“Well I’ll tell ya what. Somethin’ like that was comin down, I’d get out.” Quey looked over at him and the big man said, “Fuck yeah, don’t care how, I’d find me a fuckin’ way off this rock. I shot too many motherfuckers for someone else’s profit to go out like that. Motherfuckers talkin’ about anti-corps. You listen ta me, I seen a lot of shit, I ain’t never seen no motherfucking anti-corps.”
Quey nodded, thoughtfully. A moment passed in silence. “You’re a good man Reggie.”
Reggie looked over at him. “Goods got nothin’ to do with shit in this world.”
Quey finished his drink, touched the big man’s shoulder and said, “Yeah, it does.” Then he st
ood and went over to Rachel and Dusty. Reggie watched the three of them standing, talking and finally laughing.
Drinking was a delicate equation with Reggie. He liked to get enough booze in him to forget what he’d seen, the things he’d done during the southern continent conflict, but he could drink too much and bring everything bubbling to the surface. That’s where he was now, on that edge, walking that fine line between bliss and madness.
Quey knew him well enough to see he was there, to know he needed some time to himself, some time to get his head right. He’d heard a story or two from Reggie about that conflict. A story about ordinary folks looking at the world and seeing the truth: they were living on a dying rock and no one was going to help them unless they helped themselves. They weren’t terrorists looking to sabotage anyone’s way of life, or looking to destroy the world. They were just people looking for a way out, a way to survive, a way off this fucking rock. What Quey was saying about the wastes was true, Reggie knew it, he also knew it was madness to trust the assholes who fucked the planet up in the first place to fix it but what else was there to do?
Reggie took another drink. He remembered bodies. He remembered gunfire. He remembered shooting. He remembered a mother knocked off her feet while a son cried and a father stood shooting, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes and he was screaming. He didn’t have time to think about that then, didn’t have that luxury while his gun jumped again and again against his shoulder. Splat went a man’s head, thwack went another’s torso. Twisted faces of agony screaming for a moment then falling silent and still.
He drank.
He had no time to consider it then, when he was in the thick of it. But years later and a continent away he had nothing but time. Regulator had nothing to do with ass, the nick had come from the war, they called it a conflict but Reggie knew a fucking war when he was in one. They called him ‘Regulator’ because he was a natural shot and if you gave him a point to hold he would hold it.
“Motherfucker regulated that shit,” one of his comrades, more of a brother than a friend after what they’d seen, said one day about a warehouse of engine parts he was supposed to keep secure. Blue Moon didn’t want anyone getting off the planet, Reggie knew that’s what all that death was really about. If someone got off, the whole universe might know what was going on down here. Of course they could never say that so they had to blame someone, luckily there was anti-corps.
Reggie started to open the bottle of ‘shine. The line was shivering under his feet and he knew, staring at the clear liquid in the bottle, that one more drink would send him tumbling into the dark place. One day he knew he’d spiral down that hole and never come back, just let it consume him and take away the bitter things he’s forced to keep; someone else’s bag of shit he never wanted and can’t get rid of.
What Quey said earlier about survival had struck him and he thought on it now. Was that all he was doing out here in Fen Quada?
Reggie twisted the cap back on the bottle.
Maybe he would give up and fall out to that dark place someday, maybe he’d even just give up and drink the fucking water, but not today.
Quey was looking at him and nodded. Reggie stood and left the bar.
“He alright?” Dusty asked.
Quey nodded, “Be fine.”
“Dancing Cheek to Cheek” began playing through the Jukebox, and Rachel said, “Oh, we have to, one more.”
Dusty smiled at her, “Love to babe but I think I’m a bit sideways.”
“How ‘bout you Quey?” she asked. “You know, you still owe me a dance.”
Quey looked over at her, knowing what she meant. The night she and Dusty met it was Quey who’d gone to try and pick her up. Of course he was too deep in his shine for his own good and he barely got past asking her to dance before he threw up. Rail had been pissed; Cal and Dusty thought the old man was going to toss Quey off the cliffs. “I believe I do at that,” he told her. “And I tell you what, I’m a man who pays his debts but I’m going to hold onto that one for just a bit longer. You make sure to post an invite to this wedding of yours and I’ll show up with as much shine as your guests can drink and settle up before the night closes.”
Rachel smiled at him, “Sounds like a fine idea.”
“In the mean, I think I’m through for the night,” he announced.
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Dusty agreed.
The three of them shut off the lights and locked the door behind them. The sea air was cool and blowing hard off the ocean. Dusty put his arm around Rachel when she shivered, and kissed her forehead. “Be well you two,” Quey said and turned and started away.
In the dark of the guest bedroom at Rail’s house Quey lay in bed with his sheet propped up on his chest. He was connected to the planetary network and staring at the search engine. He wasn’t thinking, just feeling something heavy in his chest, something longing. Something about Dusty and Rachel, seeing them together like they were. Finally he touched the search bar and selected the last thing he’d typed in. A girl named Rain.
There was a knot in his throat as his heart beat quicker in his chest. He knew this wasn’t healthy but he clicked the website anyhow. There she was, the picture of her next to her van. He looked at her, vibrant and full of life, and remembered how every ounce of her experienced each moment so thoroughly. He scrolled down looking through the other pictures. One was of her sitting at a table working on a piece of jewelry. Her face was scrunched with focus and he smiled. She wasn’t the sort someone might put in an advert, but she was beautiful in her way. Further down he found one of her positioned high on some cliffs with a chord around her legs. She was naked and the caption said, ‘Yeah, I saw her last month cliff diving naked. It was awesome.’
He smiled and scrolled further. He knew what he was looking for and he found it easy enough. A handful of people had posted video. He selected one and watched. It was a stationary shot of a rather nice hotel room. She was sitting in a chair with a drink in her hand. He felt his groin tingling and he scrolled through the video until the man came into frame and they went to the bed. It looked like the man had simply set his sheet down and left it on and recorded the two of them together. Quey started to feel his guts knot as he watched her with this guy. It was different than he’d thought it would be and he realized he didn’t want to see. He stopped the video and selected another.
She and another girl, who was only a bit taller than her with long blond hair, climbed out of a pool in bikinis, Rain wrapped a black sheer skirt around her waist before joining a group of people near a fire. She lifted a stick with a marshmallow on the end out of the flames. Quey watched as she inspected it. She grinned at the camera and said, “It looks like one of those things.”
“What things?” a woman asked.
She looked somewhere else off camera. “You know,” she answered, then started to dance with it, swaying her hips wide and wild and when she spun the stick the flaming marshmallow flew from the end and sailed off into the trees, missing someone’s head by centimeters. She looked at the camera with wide eyes and a silly frown, then laughed. “I’m sorry,” she told him hands raised and he lifted his bottle of brew to her to assure her it was all right.
“That was a good dance,” the camera man said.
“You liked it?” she asked him coyly.
“I thought it had potential,” he answered.
She loaded three marshmallows onto each end of her stick and said, “Here, maybe this time it’ll stay.”
The other girl from the pool came around to help her and got a stick of her own. “Ready?” Rain asked.
“No,” the girl replied adjusting her marshmallows, then said, “Alright, go,” and they plunged their sticks into the flames, one end then the other and started dancing with them. Someone turned up some music and the girls moved with it.
Watching her on the video he remembered their time together in the back of his rig, the passion that boiled through her as her hips writhed against him while s
he whispered and nibbled his ear. Before he knew it he was hard and in his hand, watching Rain and the other girl dance. Soon they were facing one another, and when their marshmallows were nothing but ash they dropped the sticks.
The camera began to zoom in but the girls moved closer and so he stopped and backed out. Something about two girls dancing together inspired others to fill in around the fire behind them. A pair of guys came over to them and they exchanged a glance and decided to give them a little thrill. The other girl snatched the sheer skirt from around Rain’s waist and she set her ass, round and firm against one of the guys groins. The way she moved against him stirred a memory in Quey and he could almost feel her again.
They pushed the guys away and the girls returned to dancing with each other.
“You sure?” one of the guys asked.
The other girl pulled Rain to her and kissed her. Rain kissed back, tongue and all, then looked over at the boys and said, “Yeah, we’re sure.”
The camera stayed focused on them. Rain raised her arms above her head and her hips swirled while she turned slowly around in a circle. He watched her waist and how it swelled at her churning hips, then found the bounce of her small breasts pressed in her bikini. The other girl was there but went unnoticed as he came close to being finished. Her back was to the camera and he watched the lines of her as she moved snakelike to the music but he made himself wait until she turned around again. He saw her face, smiling and lustful, and watched how her body moved and jiggled in all the right places, then finally, as he began to spasm, he found the sensuality in her eyes.
He sank against the bed, drunk on shine and endorphins and watched the girls laugh. They exchanged another kiss, this one more intimate, and a whisper before taking each other’s hand and heading away.
“Want I should come?” the camera man asked.
They looked back, exchanged a glance and then the other girl answered, “Not tonight.”
Quey stopped the video and went to the bathroom to clean up. He fell asleep with the comfort of fleeting satisfaction.
The Saffron Malformation Page 16