A Trace of Revenge

by Lyle Howard

  As he pardoned and shouldered his way through the crowd toward the bar, he chuckled to himself when he realized that he probably owned socks that were older than most of the One Eleven Club’s clientele. It was an uphill battle snaking through the mob, and when someone bumped into him, he would instinctively check for his wallet. Was he that paranoid? Did it show?

  When he eventually made it to the bar, he was swallowed by a wall of humanity three deep and screaming out their choice of alcohol at the top of their collective lungs. Six bartenders raced around behind the counter in a whirlwind of activity, filling drink orders and collecting payment. Every time one of the mixologists received a tip that was worthy of the tribute, they would dart to the far end of the bar and ring a ship’s bell. Judging from the regularity of the bell’s pealing, either they poured very generous drinks here, or church had just let out.

  A quick study when it came to grasping a sense of the crowd’s character, he suspected that there would be no vodka gimlets served here, only drinks that needed to be washed down with beer chasers, or mixed with cherry flavored Jell-O and slurped out of someone’s navel.

  Trying not to jar anyone’s glass, he carefully managed to wriggle his hand through the teeming herd and called out his order. While he waited for his drink, he scanned the crowd, taking a quick tally of all the garish tattoos being flaunted in plain sight. It was almost like a game to him. Whenever he felt uneasy, he counted. He loved to add; he was compulsive about it. He did it for a living, he did it for fun. When his watered-down gin and tonic finally arrived, he smiled casually at the bartender and handed over a twenty dollar bill expecting change. To his regret, the bell rang instead.

  As he backed away from the bar, he was fascinated to add two more roses and an ornate cross to his aggregate of twenty-three verified tattoos. That was twenty-three more than he guessed he’d ever see at the country club. Tattoos, he mused, as he decided to take in the rest of the nightclub at a leisurely pace; every generation had them. What would some of these people think when they were in their nineties, standing naked and wrinkled in front of their full-length mirrors, wearing nothing but the liver-spotted skin God had cursed them with, and a faded tattoo of barbed wire indelibly etched around their sagging biceps? He squeezed the twist of lime into his drink, took another sip, and laughed at himself for being so cynical.

  Still trying to spy any body art that might add to his total, he made his way toward the dance floor. The forbidden territory. It was an open display of eroticism, where sweat-soaked bodies writhed to the profane lyrics oozing from the enormous loudspeakers. An upright orgy bathed in swirling red, green, and yellow strobe lights, where public fondling wasn’t frowned upon; it was the norm. He was starting to think that maybe drowning his sorrows here wasn’t such a brilliant idea after all.

  She careened into him, spilling his drink down the front of his jacket, and leaving the lime dangling from his breast pocket. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “This damned place is so crowded, you can’t take two steps without trampling over somebody.”

  His throat went dry, his words trying to form through parched and trembling lips. “It’s not your fault,” he said wiping down his jacket with the cocktail napkin, “really, it’s okay.”

  “Look at this,” she pointed. “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mess of your suit.”

  The first thing he noticed was the enticing aroma of her perfume. Even through the noxious cloud of tobacco fumes, she seemed to possess her own fresh smelling atmosphere. “No, I insist on paying for the cleaning.”

  She looked up at him with toffee-brown eyes framed by a face that was as timeless as a classic work of art. Her soft cranberry lips were parted in a gentle smile that revealed an inner kindness that his life had been sorely missing as of late. She was dressed conservatively in a floral print, not spray painted in leather and spandex like most of the women who patronized this place. She was a lighthouse shining for him in the darkness.

  “The least I can do is buy you another drink,” she pleaded, reaching up and pulling out the slice of lime that had landed in his pocket. “Something with a twist of lime, no doubt?”

  He blushed for the first time in what seemed like a hundred years. “Look... you don’t have to...”

  She grabbed him by the hand, sending a jolt of electrified excitement coursing through every fiber of his being. “Nonsense. I won’t take no for an answer!”

  He hesitantly let her guide him back through the horde of partying customers. “Oh, please...not the bar again! You’ll never...”

  She cupped her hands around her mouth so she could be heard clearly over the thumping music. “Don’t worry about it,” she winked. “I’ve got clout! One of the bartenders is an old friend of mine!”

  As they weaved their way toward the bar, he found himself no longer seeking out tattoos, but instead scanning the crowd for familiar faces, in the unlikely event that someone of consequence was to spot him in the company of this woman who was half his age. A roomful of skin-tight leather, ventilated mini-skirts, and multi-colored hair eventually calmed his unwarranted apprehension.

  “What are you wearing...I mean, drinking?” she razzed him.

  “Gin and tonic, but really...you don’t have to...”

  A few seconds later, she was handing him his drink, and he found himself staring at her, wondering who she was to deserve such preferential treatment. “How did you do that?” he asked, tipping his glass courteously.

  “It pays to know all the right people!” She said loud enough to be heard over the thumping music.

  He nodded with admiration.

  “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. My name is Rain,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He looked taken aback. “Excuse me?”

  She scratched her finger over her heart. “I swear...that’s my name!”

  “Rain,” he said, thoughtfully, “that’s quite original.”

  She waved to someone that called out to her, but she was considerate enough not to respond in a way that could have made him feel like an outsider. “Care to guess the weather on the night I was born?”

  He laughed heartily. “Well, I guess it was a good thing that it wasn’t cold out that night too, otherwise your friends might be calling you frigid!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Wow, and just when I thought I’d heard them all!”

  Was he really smiling like the cat that had just chowed down on the canary? It felt like the corners of his mouth were touching his earlobes. “I’m just messing with you. It’s actually quite a beautiful name.”

  Rain generously offered her extraordinary smile once again. “That’s very nice of you to say, but now I suddenly find myself at a disadvantage.”

  He apologized for his bad manners and offered his name.

  She looked at him suspiciously. “No. That wouldn’t have even been my second guess.”

  Who was this young woman, and how was she managing to lift the entire weight of his troubled marriage off of his shoulders? One thing was for certain: he had to learn more about her! “So what would have been your first guess?” he asked her.

  Her delicate eyebrows furrowed as she studied his well-worn facial features. “I think maybe Edward would have been my first choice, but the more that I look at you...” she theorized, shriveling her nose, “you’re not really the Edward type. Yep, I guess your name fits you pretty well.”

  The blaring music that he had found so annoying only a few moments ago had suddenly taken a backseat to an entirely new set of emotions. “I’m so relieved you’re okay with it,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest in mock relief. “Now I can call my parents and tell them they were right!”

  She batted her eyelashes and cooed over the rim of her glass. “You would do that for me?”

  He grinned like a shy seventeen-year-old. “For you? Anything!”

  She
wound her arm around his. “Anything? Then how about a dance?”

  Oh, if only his golfing buddies could see him now! “You can’t be serious!”

  She began dragging him toward the center of the club. “Why not?”

  “I can’t dance to this stuff,” he protested.

  She took the glass from his hand and set it down on a table beside the bustling dance floor. “Sure you can! It’s easy! Come on!”

  Of course, with a smile like that, she made him feel like he could do just about anything. “Maybe we should wait for something just a little bit slower,” he shouted after her.

  She had him by both hands now and was pulling him into the congregation of bouncing bodies. “Just go with it!” She yelled back to him. “You’ll never know what you’re missing until you try!”

  Disoriented entirely by the arrhythmic beat of the music, he began shuffling from side to side like he had rocks in his shoes.

  She gave him the “thumbs up” signal. “What were you so afraid of? You’re a natural!”

  They had been swallowed whole by the gyrating multitude that thrived beneath the spinning colored floodlights. It was a world within itself where nothing was taboo. With a total lack of propriety, a young woman wearing an indecently short dress crafted from what appeared to be aluminum foil shimmied past them. If her outfit wasn’t bizarre enough, she had three safety pins skewering one of her eyebrows. He winced at the thought of surgical steel pins piercing the flesh anywhere near his eyes. Rain was laughing hysterically at his reaction, but he was only able to manage a half-hearted smile to disguise his revulsion. He interrupted his inept dancing just long enough to cup his hands around his mouth, “Is it just me, or is the whole world cracking up?”

  Rain moved closer to hear him better. “The Three Aces attracts all kinds, doesn’t it?’

  He shivered as though someone had just poured a bucket of ice water down his back. “I’ll say!”

  She had come close enough for him to smell her perfume again. It was intoxicating. “This is obviously your first time here?”

  He let her sweet scent fill his lungs. “Does it show?”

  “Believe me, I would have noticed you if you had come in here before!”

  Aw, man! Nothing puts lead in your pencil better than a woman who says all the right things! “That’s very kind of you to say!”

  She ran her fingers inside of his lapel. “I really mean it.”

  Was it suddenly getting warmer in here? “I...I don’t know...what to....”

  They were living proof that Copernicus and Galileo were wrong. The sun wasn’t the center of the universe; it was the two of them. No longer in motion, everything and everyone else was revolving around them. As she gazed up into his face, time took a much-needed vacation. She made him feel twenty again, with a size thirty-two waist and no corrective reading glasses. “This isn’t right.”

  Her tongue moistened her lips seductively. “What isn’t right?”

  As she pulled him even closer, his heart was beating so loud, he never noticed that the music had mellowed into a soft, romantic ballad. “Is this better?”

  He could feel her ample breasts pressing against his chest. “I’ve never done this before.”

  Her mouth curled devilishly. “What? You’ve never slow danced before?”

  “That’s not what I...”

  She put her finger over his mouth. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. Life is too short!”

  Life wasn’t fair either. At a time when he should have been basking in the glow of expectation, his mind was ambushing him with the complexities of following through on such an illicit tryst. First, there would be the phone calls to the office from...who? How about, Ms. Johansen from First National Bank? His secretary wasn’t an idiot! Then, there was the place...a hotel? A motel? Behind the dumpster in an alley somewhere? What about evidence? No receipts! That was important! He would have to pay cash for everything!

  She snapped his fingers in his face. “Are you alright? I thought I lost you for a minute.”

  He looked down at her. “Of course I am, there’s no place I’d rather be.’

  “Well, I’ve got my ear pressed against your chest, and your heart is doing a drum solo!”

  Edgar Allen Poe...the telltale heart! “I’m just a little nervous. It’s been awhile since I’ve held such a beautiful woman in my arms!”

  She playfully slipped her hand inside his jacket. “Now I’m the one that’s embarrassed!”

  “Maybe...”

  Rain tilted her head until her lips were inches from his. “Maybe what?”

  “I don’t know. I was going to suggest that we go somewhere a bit quieter...”

  She lifted an eyebrow flirtatiously. “A bit quieter, eh? Like where? A library?”

  He could feel himself blushing. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m new at this.”

  “Don’t worry, I know the perfect place,” she said, with an impish wink. “Just wait here while I go to the bathroom and make a quick phone call to see if it’s available.”

  He didn’t want to let go. “Are you sure?”

  Rain kissed the tip of her finger and pressed it against his lips. “Just count to three hundred and wait right here, so I’ll know where to find you.”

  The ear to ear smile was back. “I’m glued to this spot!”

  The woman of his dreams waved once and then melted into the crowd.

  So much stuff was running through his mind! Safe sex. What had he heard about it? He tried to remember! Condoms! He hadn’t needed one since the eighties! Would she let him stop off at the drug store? Was that too tacky? Could he buy just one? Did women carry them nowadays? His head was spinning so fast, he was starting to feel the onset of a migraine!

  The music had renewed its thunderous amplitude, but all of a sudden, he was oblivious to its ear-numbing effect. The thrill of anticipation was insulating him like a cone of silence. He was alone in a mob, unconscious to the tumult around him, luxuriating in the excitement of the moment. What would it be like, to let his fingers trace her exquisite form? To kiss the nape of her neck? To have her roll off of him sweaty and spent, with a satisfied smile that he could only compare to his own?

  He pulled back his sleeve and glanced at the luminous dial on his watch. Five minutes had turned into ten. He craned his neck to see over the crowded dance floor, but the room was too dark and the busy lights too distracting. He didn’t want to seem desperate by chasing after her. That might make him look too anxious or too possessive. He would just have to be patient and give her another few minutes.

  8

  The scene in the One Eleven Club was becoming more crowded and wilder by the minute. The toxic stench from the alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana made it nearly impossible for an amateur to breathe.

  Ten minutes had turned into fifteen...

  He hoped something hadn’t happened to her. How long did she say she’d be? Maybe he should check on her? She would understand his concern. He didn’t want to give her the impression that he was coming on too strong. He felt ridiculous just standing on the same spot, tapping his foot to music so loud that it made his chest throb. He grabbed the attention of a passing waitress. “Excuse me, could you tell me where the bathrooms are located?”

  She bent over and picked up an empty glass off a nearby table and gave the surface a quick wipe with a bar towel she kept in her apron. “Over there.”

  “Over where?”

  She pointed over his shoulder. “Back there…in the corner.”

  Never one to let a favor go unappreciated, he reached into his jacket for his wallet to tip her for her kindness, but his hand came out empty! No! It couldn’t be! He began frisking himself, frantically patting every pocket in search of his billfold. Nothing! No cash, no credit cards, no identification! She had taken it all! “God damn it!”

 
The waitress spun around. “Hey, what’s your problem, pal?”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Did you see the young woman that was here with me? She was wearing...”

  The waitress broke loose of his grip. “Let go of me, mister! You’re hurting me!”

  “But she stole my wallet!”

  Holding her tray in front of her like a shield, the waitress backed away. “I don’t know anything about your mystery woman, mister! You got a problem? You should take it up with the owner or the cops!”

  How could he have let this happen? How could he have been so stupid? It was all so clear to him now. He remembered how she blotted his jacket earlier in the evening. She was setting him up! How could he have been so blind to think she was really interested in him? That’s what happens when you let yourself be dragged around by your Johnson! If he ever got his hands on her again, death would be the easy way out!

  He cut through the crowd like a tornado, pushing people out of his way regardless of their size or gender. “Did you see a woman come in here?” he asked a girl standing outside the women’s restroom. “She was wearing this dress with pastel flowers all over it!”

  The girl took a long drag off her cigarette and exhaled a long plume of smoke into his face. “Do I look like a fucking hall monitor? Fuck off!”

  Sweat was running down his face as he held open the door to the restroom. “Rain!” he yelled inside.

  Another woman wearing stiletto heels strolled out, squeezing her nostrils and sniffling like she was having an allergy attack. “No rain in here stud. But if you’re into golden showers...”

  He had no idea of what she was talking about, but it didn’t sound inviting. “Which way’s the office?”

  The woman squeezed her nostrils again, tilted her head back and shivered. “Does it look like I work here?”