by B. L. Morgan
I grunted into my beer and mumbled, “That's good customer relations.”
“Better than he deserved,” Johnny said.
I nodded and looked into the bubbles of my beer.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Johnny asked. “You look like someone fucked your cat or something.”
“Just thinkin that's all,” I said. “I want to find that little girl whose picture I showed you. But I'm not sure what the hell to do next.”
“Well,” Johnny said. “She sure ain’t in that beer you've been staring at. And I tell you what, it's no secret that your main talent ain’t thinkin. You just don't have the brain for it.”
“So what hell do you suggest?” I ask Johnny.
“Relax man,” Johnny said. “People like us, we're not methodical. If we need the answer to a complex problem our unconscious will help us out after a while. We just got to relax and let the inner computer do it.”
I looked at Johnny and said, “That's a big help, Doctor Spock.”
“Well, shit,” Johnny says. “You ain’t no goddamned genius.”
We sat in silence for a while. Except when Johnny made a comment on the newswoman on KXOK who keeps bobbing her head up and down as she talks.
“Good neck motion,” Johnny says slowly. “I taught her that one.”
“Yeah right,” I said. “And the fags at Chesney Park taught you.”
“Fuck you,” Johnny said and laughed.
“No thanks, not my type,” I said.
“I know what you need,” Johnny says.
“What's that?” I ask.
“You need your ass kicked in some chess. That'd bring you down a peg or two. Just where you white motherfuckers ought to be, below the black man.”
“You think it'd cheer me up to whip the hell out of you again. Well, I guess I'll do it,” I say.
“Naw man,” Johnny said. “I ain’t in the mood to be whippin your ass. But there's some guy been hanging around Roxie’s tellin everyone he's never been beat. You can play him while I check out the titties.”
Johnny has an enthusiastic smile on his face.
“Is that all you ever think about,” I ask Johnny, “Titties?”
“Oh no, not at all,” he says and gets up, goes behind the bar, and locks the cash register. “I think about all kinds of things, legs, thighs, butts, lips. I think about all kinds of things. All of them female.”
We walk to the door.
“Your boyfriend is going to be jealous,” I tell Johnny.
* * *
Johnny locks up his bar and I study the sky. The clouds are low and dark and ominous looking. Off to the east I can see flashes of light from lightning still in the clouds.
It hadn't yet started raining but a storm was definitely coming.
Distant rumbles shook the ground. It matched the way I felt tonight. On edge, tight, waiting for something to happen.
We walked around to the alley on the side of Johnny's Bar and Grill and got in his car. It was an old green Ford Maverick that had so much rust it looked like it was almost a form of camouflage.
“Why you drive this piece of shit?” I asked Johnny. “Hell, this thing looks worse than my car.”
Johnny turned the motor over. The old car coughed once then purred smoothly.
“I tell ya why I like this car,” Johnny said. “This here car is like a horrible lookin woman with a great heart that loves ya. That woman, she knows what to do and she's doin it for you. So if you're smart you'll learn to love her looks and enjoy what you got.”
I look at Johnny and say, “So what the fuck does that have to do with cars.”
“Well,” he says, “About three years ago I got kind of tired of this car and leased me a new car. I kept this one and drove it every now and then but I was trying to kill it by mistreatment. Hell, I even drove it on diesel for a while. But it just smoked like hell and made some clacking noises and kept on goin just like it always had. But hell, that new car every time the weather changed, it didn't want to start. Something was always going wrong with that damn thing. Finally the motherfucker quit on me at a stop light right next to Laclede’s Landing one night when I had a hot babe with me. The babe got mad cause I lost it and kicked the crap out of the car.”
“So now I'm back to my baby.” he leaned forward and kissed the steering wheel. “Never gonna stray again. Till she goes to that junkyard in the sky.”
“You make a good couple,” I told Johnny as he pulled out of the alley.
“Damn right we do,” he said.
“But ain’t she gonna be jealous tonight?” I asked.
“Only if we go see some naked cars,” Johnny said.
We cruised toward Washington Park where Roxie’s was, past the closed down buildings, the drunks, the bums and the prostitutes. We cruised down Fourth Street slowly, almost like sightseers watching the show.
We cruised past the Barbary Coast Tavern and my heart skipped a beat. It was almost dark and at the same spot, beside the Barbary Coast Tavern where I had spotted him the same night I'd killed him, was Morris West.
I blinked and shook my head.
Johnny saw me and said, “Looks a lot like him, don't it?”
On second look, I did see it wasn't Morris West. But someone who did look a hell of a lot like him. He had the same dread lock Jamaican look about him, the same head to toe black clothes and the same kind of sunglasses worn after dark. But this guy was slightly shorter.
It was a different guy, even if he did shop at the same stores that Morris did.
“I'd have to figure,” Johnny said. “That spot is kind of like a franchise. Like McDonalds. If someone offs the manager of Mickey D’s the next one there is gonna have the same boss and he's gonna wear the same uniform.”
I said, “Kind of like the Jamaican boy scouts, right?”
“Yeah, except these ones sell poison,” Johnny said and drove on.
CHAPTER 17
T & A BREAK
Great big heavy raindrops started hitting the car's windshield and roof just before we saw the neon sign of Roxie’s. They sounded like rocks being thrown against the car.
The downpour that the clouds had long promised was finally arriving. It was eleven o'clock, dark, and stormy.
Roxie’s sign appeared around the turn. It was a big neon with the name Roxie’s above the neon outline of a woman hiking her skirt up.
Johnny drove around back of the building, then came out to the front through an alley beside Roxie’s. He parked in the alley with the front end of the car sticking out of the darkness between Roxie’s and an abandoned building next door.
Johnny shut the engine off. He looked at me with a very serious look on his face and yelled, “Titties!!!” Then laughed real loud.
“Man, you almost made me jump out of my socks,” I told Johnny.
He laughed some more. “Come on,” he said and we both got out of the car and went inside.
The guy at the door, a big black weight lifter type, charged us each a five dollar cover charge. I paid for me and Johnny.
“Thanks brother,” he said.
“That's all right,” I told him, “You're getting the first round of drinks.”
Strobes were flashing above three raised platforms where three women danced to the pulsing rhythms of sleazy strip music. The music was some of that shit they call new wave. Hell, shit music is shit music no matter what you call it. They call it new wave. I call it new shit. It still stinks.
We walked into the place toward the bar. Johnny's eyes were like saucers trying to devour all of the bare skin that he could see. And there was a lot of it to see.
The customers sat at chairs around the platforms and fished for dollars to stick in the girls’ G-strings when it was their turn to do so. I have never seen the logic of doing that. Whether you give the women any money or not doesn't make any difference. You're not going to get fucked by them by giving them money. They expect that from all the guys.
There were several tabl
es in the middle of the room with guys drinking and talking at them. At some of the tables, semi-naked girls sat with the guys. I knew the girls were sipping high priced drinks that they made a high commission off of.
At one table there was a black man and a white guy playing chess. I figured one of them was going to be my opponent in a while.
We were almost to the bar when a cute little brunette came up to us and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?” She smiled wickedly and looked in my eyes, then her gaze slid down my body, stopped at my crotch, then slid back up again to my eyes.
I felt like a soup bone being eyed by a pit bull dog. But I will admit, looking at her tight little body in the tight tee shirt and bikini panties did make my dick twitch.
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Lots a thing you can do. Right now, I'll take me a JD and coke.”
“And what would be your pleasure?” She asked me, smiling that wicked smile.
I couldn't help but smile back even though I knew her flirting was only an act.
“I'll take a Royal Crown and Seven,” I told her and she went for the drinks.
I could feel the thumping of the music in my bones and the place smelled like a combination of sweat, smoke and cheap perfume.
We went to a table near one of the platforms where a chic with obviously dyed red hair twirled around making her hair look like a red feather duster. She was trying to dance like a ballerina, but she was carrying about seventy pounds too much to be able to dance with any grace at all, no matter what style she chose. The way she jiggled around the stage made me wonder if she wrote on her dance resume the description, “Remember Jell-O Pudding goes with everything.”
Johnny jumped up, “I gotta get a closer look at that,” he told me and went to the stage.
Me-- hell, I couldn't get far enough away.
The fake red head bent over in front of a customer and spread her enormous cheeks for him to get a wide open view.
Jesus, I thought, I hope she ain’t had no chili today. If she lets it fly right now, she'll take that poor guy's head off.
I turned away from that chamber of horrors and looked at the chess players.
The white guy was studying the board intently. He looked like he was trying to see the floor right through the board and table. I guess he was trying to develop x-ray vision or something like it. He had a short haircut and wore a jean jacket with a Harley Davidson symbol on it.
The black guy was smiling like he knew the location of buried treasure and was just about to dig it up. He was wearing a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and had a black jacket over the back of his chair. He was laughing under his breath. I was guessing he was doing it to unnerve his opponent.
I stood up to go to the bar and when I turned, I bumped into the brunette who was bringing the drinks.
“Oh,” she said. “You can bump into me anytime.” She wore her ever perpetual wicked smile.
I took the drinks and sat them on the table. I motioned at Johnny who had his neck craned to the side and was looking right into the pit of hell between that fat dancers twin, beach ball, ass cheeks.
“He's paying for these,” I told the brunette.
She pursed her lips at me like her feelings were hurt, “Can't you give little Dallas a tip?” She asked with a whine.
I gave her a dollar.
Dallas took the dollar and looked at it in her hand disdainfully. “Can't you give Dallas a better tip than that?” She smiled imitating a little girl's pout.
“Yeah,” I said stepping around her. “Get your ass back to school and get out of this shit.”
I went to the bar.
Sammy Jones, a tall fat black guy, was tending bar.
“What's the hap, John?” He said and we slapped palms over the bar. I hadn't seen Sammy for a couple of months but we were old buddies. We used to run around together when we were teenagers about a thousand years ago.
I took the photo of Felicia playing chess out of my pocket and showed it to him.
“I'm trying to find this kid,” I told Sammy. “She's missing.”
Sammy looked at the picture.
“Is she a good, clean kid?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“You won't find her in here,” Sammy said.
“I know,” I said taking the picture back from his big hands, “Just asking around.”
I looked around the room and Johnny was at the second stage. A blond dancer was kneeling down in front of him. He was rubbing on her legs and saying something to her while putting dollars in her G-string. I didn't know what Johnny was saying but it's a sure bet he wasn't talking about bible school. The dancer was built all right but her face looked like it had worn out three bodies.
Sammy slapped me on the shoulder.
“We need to put a leash on Johnny,” he said with a short laugh.
“Hell,” I said. “He's just gettin started.”
CHAPTER 18
DIVINE CANDI
On the third stage, Candi Divine was dancing. I'd heard of that dancer. With long muscular legs, large breasts, deep chocolate skin, and a face like an African goddess, this dancer had all the equipment men would dream about and something extra. For some strange reason there were no guys at that stage giving Candi any dollars.
Most of the guys were only brave enough to give Candi Divine curious looks from across the room. Candi Divine was the kind of woman that scared the hell out of most guys. Me included.
I showed a couple more people around the bar Felicia’s photo and all I got were head shakes and sorrys. I headed back to our table.
Johnny came back to the table mimicking wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Woo, that's some hot pussy,” he said, acting like he was flinging sweat to the floor from his hand. With these sleazy chicks, Johnny was in heaven.
At the chess player‘s table, the black guy got up to go and got a drink. He was tall and very dark. A waitress met him before he was halfway to the bar. He expressed himself with big expansive hand gestures when he talked.
It was like he was trying to cast some kind of magic spell. He must have thought he was the coolest guy on earth. He went back to his table.
I asked Johnny, “Which of those guys am I supposed to play?”
He said, “Tor Ambrose, the black guy. He's a sorry-assed dog, son-of-a-bitch, but he plays a hell of a game of chess.
“Well,” I said. “I won't feel so bad about beating his ass. Since he's such a dog.”
“No shit,” Johnny said. “He is damn good. He knows it too. He likes to talk shit while he plays. When we played, he actually told me he was chosen to have powers others of us don't have.”
“Sounds like he's full of shit,” I told Johnny.
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “He wasn't too happy when I told him he only had the power to suck my dick and to shut up.”
“He looks like he's your type,” I said.
“Man,” Johnny said. “You need to stop with that shit.”
“OK,” I said, “I'll chill out.”
“Anyway,” Johnny said. “Tor thinks he knows voodoo or some shit like that. So watch him, he might try to put the evil eye on ya or something. My Grandma from Louisiana taught me all about that shit.”
“Do you believe in that shit?” I asked Johnny.
“Naw man,” he said. “I'm a modern type guy but my Grandma was always tellin me about it. So I know about it anyway.”
Two dancers left their stages and were replaced by two new ones. Candi Divine stayed where she was dancing.
Evidently Candi wasn't ready to quit dancing yet and there wasn't anyone big enough to tell her that her turn was up.
The song Kung Fu Fighting started playing and on the first stage an Oriental woman introduced as Sushi started dancing. If I would have been sitting at the stage, I would have backed up.
Sushi was doing an imitation of a Kung Fu fight and was flinging herself all over the place while throwing punches and kicks. It looked like she
could come flying off of there at any moment and knock the crap out of one of the customers.
At the chess players’ table the white guy slapped the tabletop then both of the players stood up. Tor laughed out a loud mocking laugh and the other guy left pissed off.
On the stage, Sushi was in the middle of throwing a whirlwind of kicks and punches. She was short and kind of skinny but I wouldn't want to get her pissed off.
“Looks like it's my turn,” I told Johnny motioning to the table where Tor Ambrose sat.
I got up.
“Good luck,” Johnny said. “Kick his ass.”
“Lucks got nothing to do with it,” I said and went over to where Tor was receiving his drink from the waitress and was resetting the pieces.
Our eyes met.
“They tell me you say you've never been beat,” I tell him.
He laughs. It was that cola nut guy laugh. The same kind of laugh that the guy in the Seven-Up commercial uses.
"It is not only what I say," Tor says. “But that is how it is. I have never been beat.”
“Then get ready for a new experience,” I told him and sat down.
We flipped for colors and he won white.
He moved his King's Pawn forward two squares.
“I am Tor Ambrose,” he told me. I felt his eyes boring into my head. He had been staring at me non-stop since I came over here.
“I know who you are,” I told him. “Now are you my bitch or what?”
“What?” he asked.
“If you ain’t my bitch,” I told Tor. “Then quit looking at me like you want me to fuck you.”
I moved my King's Pawn forward two squares.
He laughed again but his eyes did shift away.
“You are a funny man,” he said and I noticed he spoke with a deep Caribbean accent.
Johnny was over at Sushi's stage now. He was standing in front of her doing karate poses. Sushi had a big grin on her face. If Johnny had his way, he'd be showing Sushi his lethal technique of Tongue Fu.
