CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Kitchen Help
Debbie was driving home from another disappointing rehearsal. She had flubbed every line. She went to Balls & Burgers to relax a little. As she drove in front of Tony’s place, she saw the white Lexus parked in front. She blew her horn, stuck her hand out the window, and flipped the middle finger. Tony recognized the horn and ran to the window just in time to see Debbie’s gesture.
Harold arrived at Little Italy right at eight o’clock. Gina came prancing out the front door to the car. She was wearing a scarlet-red tank dress, which clung to every sexy curve of her body.
She opened the door and said, “Let’s go.”
“You look wonderful tonight,” said Harold.
“Cut the crap, Harold,” she said. “I know what you want and you know what I want. Let’s just have a little fun at my uncle’s expense then get down to what we really both want.”
“You’re a pretty bold woman,” Harold commented.
“It runs in the family. I came here to visit Uncle Carlos and he has me greeting customers at his restaurant. This is bullshit. I need to have a little fun.”
“You don’t have an Italian accent like you did earlier.”
“Of course I don’t. I was just humoring the uncle. I was born in Los Angeles and live in San Diego. I thought it would be nice to visit the old man, seeing what he’s going through with my cousin Frank.”
“You don’t look like the type of lady who needs to be fixed up.”
“Harold – can I call you something else? I don’t like that name.”
“Sure. My middle name is Walter.”
“That’s just as bad. How about Walls?”
“I guess so. Sure. Walls will be okay.”
“Good. Well, Walls, my uncle – if you haven’t noticed – is a bit overprotective. I’ve been trying to go out for the whole two weeks I’ve been here. He wouldn’t let me. He said he had to make sure he found someone suitable.”
“I guess I’m that person.”
Gina looked at Harold and smiled, “You’ll do.”
“Where would you like to go? We have two-thousand dollars to blow.”
“I want to have a hamburger and shoot pool.” Harold was surprised.
“Are you sure? I mean, with this much money to spend, the sky’s the limit.”
“Look, Walls, I’m treated like a little girl at home by my mom and dad. I come over here and I get treated worse. I don’t like all this fancy crap. I want to party with the locals. I want to do what normal people do.”
“Okay, whatever you want. I saw a place near campus yesterday. I think it’s called Balls & Burgers.”
“I like that name,” said an excited Gina. She leaned over and planted a huge kiss on Harold, causing him to swerve.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m kissing you, idiot.”
“But I’m trying to drive.” Harold was having a tough time saying on the road.
“So let’s park somewhere.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Gina reached down between Harold’s legs and started rubbing. “Does this look like I’m kidding?”
“Don’t you want to eat pool and shoot burgers?” Harold said, as he tried to keep the car on the road.
Gina knew she had him under her control. “We can do that afterwards.”
“After what?” Harold asked. She planted another kiss on him while maneuvering herself facing him on his lap. She started moving her hips back and forth while Harold rose to the occasion underneath. He tried to concentrate on driving, but her breasts kept getting in the way. He pushed her aside and pulled on the side of the road.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want it?” she asked.
“I can’t drive like that.”
“I bet you can drive me.” Gina unzipped Harold’s pants and went down on him. He tried to concentrate on the traffic passing by, but she was just too good.
“Let’s go behind that tree right there,” he said.
Gina smiled. “Take off your jacket. We can do it on that.”
Harold was hesitant to use his three hundred-dollar jacket as a blanket until he saw Gina flip off her dress. There was just enough light from the moon for him to see her in all her glory. He started to unbutton his shirt, when Gina ripped it open. The pants came next, and after two minutes, so did Harold.
Debbie sat at the dark corner of the bar. Marlena brought her a needed beer.
“You sure look like you can use this one tonight. What’s the problem?”
“My life is falling apart,” said Debbie. “Tony is cheating on me with Benny’s girlfriend, my acting sucks, and I work for a bunch of assholes.”
“You think Tony is cheating on you? No way. That man loves you too much.”
“Well, I saw him yesterday with her and I just passed by his apartment. Her car was there.”
“Did you talk to him yet? There’s probably some reasonable explanation for all this.”
“I don’t ever want to talk to his foreign ass again. Screw him.”
Marlena saw a couple approaching the bar. “Excuse me a second, Debbie. Let me take care of this couple.”
Debbie looked up and saw the couple. It was Harold, with a torn open shirt, hair out of place, and a young vixen she had never seen before.
“What can I get you guys?” asked Marlena.
“Do you have any Grand Marnier?” asked Harold.
“We have beer, wine, and cheap liquor,” answered Marlena.
“What do you mean by cheap?” asked Harold.
“Quit being such a lame twit,” said Gina. “Just get us a pitcher of Budweiser.”
Marlena returned with the beer. “Can I see some ID?”
Harold laughed, “It’s been years since I’ve been carded.”
“Not you, sir. I can tell you’re well over twenty-one. I need to see hers.”
“Did you know that Carlos Verona is my uncle?” said Gina.
“Well, Bill Gates is my ninth cousin. I still need to see some ID,” Marlena stated. As Gina was reluctant to show her driver’s license, Harold was thinking that she was at least twenty-one.
“Sorry,” said Marlena, as she looked at the birthdate. “Can I get you something else?”
“A coke will be fine,” said a dejected Gina.
“I didn’t know you weren’t twenty-one yet,” said Harold.
“Not quite yet. Hang out here for a second. I have to go to the ladies room.” She strolled away for a bathroom break. Marlena took one of the beer mugs away and poured Harold a glass. She gave him a dirty look as she walked away and returned to Debbie.
“Man, can you believe that guy?” she asked.
“That guy is my boss,” said Debbie. “You think he can see me over here?”
“No. You don’t have to worry about that. This corner is where most of my indiscreets hang out. You’ll never guess how old that girl is that he brought in.”
Harold decided to peek at Gina’s license while she was in the bathroom. He glanced at it, than turned whiter than a sheet.
“Sixteen?” laughed Debbie. Harold looked over to see who just blurted out the unbelievable number. He couldn’t see Debbie in the corner. He got real nervous, grabbed Gina’s purse, and went towards the bathroom. He grabbed Gina as she was walking out.
“We have to leave,” he muttered.
“Why? We just got here.”
They were walking out the front door, when he heard a voice yell, “Jail-bait.” He thought he recognized Debbie’s voice but wasn’t too sure. He didn’t wait to find out. He pushed Gina into the car and sped away.
“You see what I mean about the bosses I have?” asked Debbie.
“That one was a real winner.”
“Oh well, get me another beer. Better yet, bring that pitcher he left behind.” She drank the entire pitcher by herself, and then remembered that Andie told her earlier that Harold was supposed to be going to her apartment that evening.
“Can I use the phone
, Marlena?”
“Sure,” said Marlena, as she brought the bar phone over to where Debbie was sitting. Debbie called Andie.
“Hello?” asked Andie.
“Andie - It’s me – Debbie - your best friend – you remember me?”
Andie was startled to hear Debbie sounding so drunk. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Burs & Balgles. I need to talk – to you.”
“Are you all right?”
“Sure am I - feel just fine - are you okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m sorry about Harold.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sixteen girl with dark hair.”
“Debbie, are you okay?”
Marlena grabbed the phone from Debbie. “Hello?”
“Who’s this?” asked Andie.
“This is Marlena from Balls & Burgers. Are you a friend of Debbie’s?”
“Yes, I am. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she just had a little too much to drink. Could you come get her?”
“Sure. I’ll be right over.” Andie put on some clothes and went straight to pick up Debbie.
Nick was sitting at the dinner table with Barry, Shanice, and her husband, Roshondi. Nick didn’t have much to say. Barry and Shanice were hogging the conversation.
“What’s the matter Nick?” asked Barry. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Leave him alone, Daddy,” said Shanice. “He’s going through a rough time right now.”
“I’m fine,” said Nick.
“How do you like your Cajun gumbo appetizer, honey?” she asked Roshondi.
“It tastes like the mud from my village sewer,” he said.
“What did you just say?” asked Nick.
“I cannot believe that civilized people can eat this swill.”
“You have to excuse Roshondi,” said Barry. “He hasn’t been in this country long. Shanice met him on one of her international flights to Tanzania.”
“And you’ve grown to love him, haven’t you, Daddy?”
“As hard as it was, I have to say I have. He treats you well.”
“I have tasted better cuisine from the belly of a wild boar,” Roshondi added.
Nick was offended. “Listen here, man. You shouldn’t put down gumbo like that.”
“I would like to put this down – right down the toilet.”
“I really don’t feel like taking this crap from you,” said Nick.
“Oh, I was hoping you would. I sure do not want it,” added Roshondi.
Nick started to stand up. Barry put his hand on Nick’s shoulder.
“Hang on, son. No need to start a fight.”
“I’m not trying to start a fight. He’s putting down gumbo, man. I’m a little offended.” Nick was still on edge about his parents.
“He hasn’t learned tactfulness yet,” said Shanice.
“If this man would like to start a fight, I would be glad to honor his request. I must defend the Motabi name,” said Roshondi.
“Ain’t nobody gonna fight at this table,” said Barry. “Nick, you sit your butt down right here. And Roshondi, please have a little respect for Nick’s heritage. He’s from Louisiana. They take pride in their food.”
“I am sorry, father-in-law.”
“Don’t say it to me. Say it to Nick.”
“But I do not like him.”
“That’s okay,” said Nick. “The feeling’s mutual – and I wasn’t going to start a fight”
“How have you enjoyed Chicago so far, Nick?” asked Shanice, trying to change the subject.
“I still haven’t found a rock drummer, but I’ve been having a blast – except for last night and right now.”
“What happened last night?” asked Shanice.
“I almost had sex with Satan,” said Nick, without skipping a beat.
Shanice started laughing. “You are so funny.”
“What’s so funny about me almost having sex with Satan?”
“I’m sorry, Nick. It’s just that the path you’re on is going to lead you to some complicated situations. You’re just now starting to live your life. That Jamie woman ruined it, so now you’re rebuilding it. You’re not in Chicago to find a rock drummer.”
“Didn’t we have this conversation before? I told you – I am in Chicago to find a rock drummer.”
“You are such a naive man. You are going to find what you’re looking for, but not in Chicago.”
“Where?” asked Nick, “And just what am I looking for if not a rock drummer?”
“Shanice, honey. What did I tell you about messing with lives like that?” asked Barry.
“But Daddy, it’s the gift you passed on to me. You said it’s been in your family for centuries.”
“Please don’t be spreading that around,” said Barry.
“Are you ashamed about your heritage, father-in-law?” asked Roshondi.
“I ain’t ashamed of nothing,” Barry proclaimed.
“Well, you should be proud of your daughter. She is using a gift passed on from many generations. In my country, that would be an honor.”
“Sweetheart,” said Shanice, “it’s an honor in this country, too.”
“So, what’s up ahead for me?” asked Nick.
“I can’t tell you. You have to find out for yourself.”
The waiter brought Nick his own cup of gumbo. “You people up here sure do know how to get a guy worked up.” He took a sip of the thick roux. “Shit,” he hollered, as he spit it out. “This tastes like shit.”
Roshondi started laughing. “You see, I told you so.”
The manager ran to the table. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“There sure is. That Roshondi-di-do guy right there was absolutely right. This gumbo does taste like swill.”
“I must apologize, sir. We have just added Cajun dishes to the menu. This is our new chef’s first night. He told us he was a master of Cajun cuisine and authentic gumbo is supposed to taste this way.”
“What kind of credentials did he give you?” asked Nick.
“He said he was the head chef at Chez Broussard in Lafayette, Louisiana, for twenty years. He just moved here.”
“Well, I haven’t been in Lafayette in seventeen years, but I can tell you – there was no such place as Chez Broussard back then. I think you have an imposter on your hands.”
“Nick, you don’t have to make such a fuss,” said Barry.
“Hey, somebody back there is giving Cajun food a bad name.” He then asked the manager, “Can I go back to the kitchen to meet him?”
That’s not something we normally would let customers do, sir. We usually have the chef come out here to the patrons.”
“But I’ll be doing you a favor. I just want to meet him and see what he uses to make this so-called authentic gumbo. I promise I won’t cause any trouble.” Nick was serious about gumbo.
“Well, this is against my better judgment. All right, follow me.”
Nick followed the manager into the kitchen. He took one look at the chef and recognized him.
“Alphonse,” said the manager. “This gentleman would like to have a few words with you.” The chef squinted as he stared at Nick. He was chopping onions and held on to the knife as he put on his glasses. He took a few steps towards Nick and remembered the face.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” screamed the cook. “You’re one of those bastards that ruined my daughter’s wedding.” It was the ex-mayor of Lafayette.
“That man’s not a chef. He wasn’t even a good mayor,” yelled Nick. Alphonse ran after Nick, while still holding the knife.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard.”
“This idiot is insane,” screamed Nick. The manager tried to step in, but Alphonse took a swing at him with the knife. It sliced into the manager’s leg as he fell to the floor.
“Call 911,” he shrieked, as he lay bleeding on the kitchen floor. Nick ran out the kitchen, with Alphonse right behind him – waiving the blood s
oaked knife.
“Why are you after me? I’m not the one who screwed your daughters,” screamed Nick.
“Your band ruined her wedding,” said the crazy Alphonse. “I’ll kill you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, you psycho son-of-a-bitch,” yelled the frightened Nick, as he maneuvered himself around a table full of terrified guests.
“Nobody gets away with ruining Alphonse LeBlanc’s good name.”
“Somebody, please stop this crazy bastard,” cried Nick.
“What in the hell is going on?” asked Barry.
“Oh, God. That man is trying to kill Nick,” shouted Shanice.
Nick slipped on a water spot and fell. Roshondi picked up a glass from the table and hurled it towards Alphonse. It went right between two startled dinners and hit Alphonse in the nose, just before he could take a stab at Nick. Alphonse fell to the floor and hit his head on a table on the way down. Roshondi grabbed two table napkins and tied him up faster than a rodeo star ties a calf.
“This man is now ready for the authorities,” said a proud Roshondi.
Nick looked at Alphonse. “Man, you are one crazy son-of-a-bitch.” He put out his hand to shake Roshondi’s. “Thanks a bunch, man. I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing,” said Roshondi. “It was an honor to be able to defend one’s life.”
Shanice gave Roshondi a huge hug. “I love you, so much.”
“That’s my boy,” Barry said, with a proud smile. The police arrived within minutes, followed by EMS. Everyone gave statements. An hour later, Barry was giving Nick a ride back to his hotel.
“Man, you guys sure know how to party,” said Nick.
“This is something we don’t do everyday, you know,” said Barry. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be all right. I knew somebody out there was trying to kill me. I never thought it would be the ex-mayor of my hometown.”
“Well, you get yourself some rest, son. I’ll see you tomorrow on the boat.” Barry dropped Nick off at the hotel. Nick wasted no time in going to his room and crawling into bed. He needed to go to the bathroom, but didn’t want to chance another confrontation with the Dark One.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 29