by V. L. Holt
“I’m sorry, Lauren. Harley is getting worse isn’t he?” she asked me.
I appreciated her candor.
“Yes, Brenda. I know you try not to hire A-holes but I really think you dropped the ball with this one,” I said with relief.
She scrunched her face, and tears formed in her chocolate eyes. “He’s my sister’s boyfriend. I told her I’d give him a try. I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I looked back at Harley watching our conversation from the front door. He wouldn’t know what we were talking about but he made me nervous anyway.
“Look Brenda, just do what you need to do. I can take care of myself,” I said with false bravado. Having Ray make off with my gun kind of shook me up. I had to pretend that I still had it, because my aura of confidence might be what really helped keep me safe as I walked around this dirty city I was coming to love. I went in my dressing room and turned on the little lamp. I switched out of my sneaks and wound up the beautiful straps that wrapped halfway up my legs. They were tall heels too, and I felt super elegant when I wore them. The slits up the sides of my black dress revealed my shapely calves and I felt like the goddess of the underworld. My makeup matched with thick slanted black eyeliner in a Cleopatra style. I primped a bit in my dressing table mirror, warmed up with some scales and made my way to the stage.
I wondered when or if Zack was working tonight. Maybe the environment turned out to be too much for him. Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he didn’t like my forward ways and I scared him off. Mama told me I was too mouthy for most men. She said I needed somebody who would tell me to clap my trap on a regular basis.
Dear Mama. She said a lot of things, God rest her soul. I was still trying to find my way through the wreckage of my memories of when Daddy did what he did. But Mama taught me to love music and as much as she complained about my tendency to bringing stray helpless creatures home, she was the first with a dish of cream for the three-legged cat, a soup bone for the mangy dog, a slab of pie for the hungry new neighbor boy. Yes as much as she complained, she had her own devils. She had probably forgiven Daddy before it even happened. It was time to escape.
I stepped up to the mic and smiled. All thoughts of my childhood and Harley’s harassment fled at the first chords Andy struck.
“Now you say you’re lonely; you cried the whole night through…” I began singing soft and low, bringing the emotion up from my toes and letting it ripple out in waves washing over the crowd.
Every song I sang had a moment. A place where the audience clicked with me, and we were in love together for three minutes. I could always tell when I hit it, and the chills got me every time. Tonight it happened right before the chorus, and my eyes drifted up and back and Zack walked in the club right then. My eyes met his, and my heart slowed to almost backwards.
His gray eyes zeroed in on mine. I saw his gaze sweep over me from my elegant updo to my red-painted toes peeking through my strappy stilettos. I thought I could see his jaw clench from clear across the way, and I tingled all over. The mood in the room went from bittersweet blues to fever-pitch want, and I was afraid the entire audience could see my naked yearning for this man who wore the past on his shoulders like a cloak.
I sang on.
When the song ended, the crowd actually stood to clap, even though it was just the first one. They felt it too, but the only one I wanted to impress was Zack. I searched him out in the back of the room after my note ended, and he slowly raised his hands and began to clap. His hands came together in slow deliberate claps that beat in time to my pulse. The methodical rhythm thrummed slowly as honey off a spoon and I began to sweat. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. My mouth went dry and I found myself wanting to fall into his arms.
I shook myself out of it, and swallowed as much spit as I could muster so my voice wouldn’t crack. I had a bottle of water I could get in a minute. I just had to make it through my next piece which was a little shorter.
The moment between Zack and I was gone. He’d turned and replaced Harley at the door. Once again, Harley was gone for the night. Relieved, I began to sing.
I remembered to smile, and then I was lost in the lyrics and I didn’t have to remember anything. I was Lauren the performer, enchanting the audience and bewitching myself with the music.
I loved my job.
The crowd gave me a standing ovation after I Can’t Quit You Baby and I bowed a few times, embarrassed by the love I was feeling from the room. I loved it though. I presented Andy so he could join me at the front, and they loved him too, and we held hands and soaked it up for a few minutes. We were just a pair of part-time performers in a B-club in bankrupt Detroit, but tonight we felt like Diana Krall and Elton John in Market Square Arena.
We walked off together and Andy leaned over to me.
“You were amazing tonight. Singing for anyone special?” he asked me with a sly grin.
“I don’t know Andy, were you playing for anyone special?” I winked.
He patted my butt and shook his head. “Jack works every Saturday night, you know that darling’,” he said to me.
“I’m sorry, Andy. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he could come out and see you sometime?” I asked him. This was the standing argument between Jack and Andy. Andy wanted to feel support for his music career, even if it was just a part-time gig, and Jack consistently treated it as Andy’s hobby that he would eventually grow out of.
Andy’s smile faded for a minute as we stood at the bar and waited for Matt to get us our complimentary drinks.
I didn’t drink alcohol, ever, but Andy usually had a brandy to calm his nerves.
Matt brought my virgin mojito.
“You were amazing tonight, Lauren. You knocked my socks off!” he said.
“Aww, thank you Sugar,” I said and sipped the zippy lime flavor through my straw. I casually turned my head to see if Zack was still at the door; he was.
It looked like he was going to try and ignore me again tonight, which really hurt, but then I remembered that applause he gave me, and I felt a thrill tingle deep inside me. He had clapped only for me. I knew it. I had to squirm on my stool for a minute, just recalling the moment. Heat crept up my neck and ears. Mama never warned me about falling for one of my pet projects. I quirked my lips around my straw. Just a few more sips and I had to get back to the stage for my next performance.
The crowd usually diluted with new people, thinned out, then picked up more guests as the evening wore on. People attending events at the conference center weren’t ready for the night to end and sought out Lonely Nights for the cheap entertainment but classy ambience. I was more than happy to oblige them. The wine flowed freely the later it got, and then the crowd started to get more colorful. It was the couple hours between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. that I really felt thankful for the bouncers. Even Harley had kept a drunken stalker away from me a time or two in the last several months.
My second show of the night went off without a hitch, Andy and I took our bows and I hustled to my dressing room. My feet were killing me. I couldn’t wait to shove them into my fuzzy socks and sneakers. I had brought some black leggings to slip on under my dress too, for the chilly trip home.
I started to get a little nervous remembering the punks from the night before. What were the odds that people would leave me alone tonight? Not that great, to be honest. Saturday nights were even worse than Friday nights. I considered calling a cab, but that would eat up my tips from Lazy Eye’s today.
Packing everything up, I decided to just walk to the station like always. It would be fine. I still had my mace. I could dial 911 and not press send. And I could act like I still had my gun with me. All those other times, the predators had no way of knowing if I was telling the truth or not. They chose to believe me. It had to be the confidence I felt since Daddy taught me how to shoot. I would just work it.
I closed up my dressing room, said goodbye to Brenda and the girls and Matt, and walked out the door.
Zack must have already left. I ignored that pinch in my heart.
He reminded me of that old dog Ticky. I called him that because he had about 493 ticks in his ears, all bloated and feasting off that poor animal. He came around every few days and I tried all kinds of remedies to get those nasty buggers off of him. Flea powder, tomato juice (I got mixed up and gave him the treatment for skunk smell. Ticky wasn’t too happy about that bath. Neither was Mama,) herbal remedies and what not. It got to the point where he didn’t want to come near me because I had tried so hard. He finally stopped coming altogether. Dumb ticks. I blamed the little bloodsuckers, but really he hadn’t come to me to get those ticks out of his ears. He just wanted some food and some attention. I just couldn’t pay attention to what he really needed because the ticks distracted me. I felt sad remembering.
I walked briskly along under the streetlights with my big purse hitched over my shoulder and my warm scarf wrapped around my neck.
I looked around. So far so good.
About halfway to the train stop, a large lone figure stepped from out of the shadows. I recognized his shape right away and my heart sank.
Harley.
I didn’t change my pace. When I got to where he blocked my path, I spoke in a loud voice.
“Hey Harley, how you doin’ tonight? Did you hear my sets?” I sidestepped him casually and kept going, fighting the urge to run. I didn’t want to appear frightened.
“No,” he said. He matched my pace and put a beefy paw on my elbow.
“That’s too bad, it was one of Andy and I’s finer moments!” I said. I tried to project a feeling of happy oblivion. “Matt makes the best mojitos, you should try one some time. Isn’t it great working for Brenda? She’s the best boss ever!” I kept chatting. I could feel my pits itch as every pore released a bead of fear-drenched perspiration. I was going to ruin my favorite dress if this kept up.
“Brenda. That bitch is going to fire me,” he said in a growl.
Oh shit. I thought to myself.
“No, she wouldn’t do that, would she?” I tried to sound consoling. This was going south fast. I felt his grip tighten on my elbow.
“She would. Especially with a slut like you bitching to her about me,” he said. His hand squeezed my elbow so tight, tears sprung to my eyes.
It was time to get my mace out.
“Harley, why would you say something so mean to me? I’ve always been polite to you, even if I haven’t agreed to go out with you, haven’t I?” I tried to appeal to his humanity. Assuming he had any. I casually reached into my bag with my right hand while he kept talking.
“Brenda cut my hours to almost non-existent. Then I saw her talking to you tonight. It clicked. Why she started scheduling me on weeknights instead of weekends, and earlier in the evening before you came in. You’ve been complaining to her about me,” he said.
My senses were acutely aware of everything around me by then.
Harley always smelled of cigar smoke, leather and stale sweat. Now there was something else too. Kind of like nervous perspiration. Like maybe he was planning to do something he’d never done before.
My warning bells were going off like Aunt Theresa’s Five-Alarm Chili in the middle of a fireworks store. My hand found the mace.
“Harley, don’t be this way. You know I’m living with someone,” I told him. Then I swung my arm into his face and sprayed that mace like my life depended on it. Because it did.
He howled and grabbed his eyes, and I began running like Ticky from the garden hose. I could outrun Harley’s lard butt, I knew I could.
Heavy footfalls fell in behind me, but I was too scared to look. I ran like a gazelle. I was getting on that train!
A hand grabbed my shoulder through the stole I was wearing. I shrugged off the stole and kept running. I could feel the long slits in the sides of my dress growing longer. Dang it!
“Lauren, stop! It’s okay!” Zack’s voice said.
I stopped suddenly and turned to see him. I craned my neck to see if Harley was following, but he was a ways up the road, writhing on the ground and yowling like a stuck pig.
I was breathing like a track star. I put my hands on my hips and took great gulps of air.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him between breaths.
“I wanted to make sure you made it to the People Mover alright,” he said. The light from the streetlamps on the boulevard wasn’t quite enough for me to read his eyes. But I was touched that he was concerned about me. And very thankful.
“Why is Harley on the ground?” I asked him.
He looked down and shoved his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “I needed to make sure he would stop chasing you,” he said.
I grinned and threw myself at Zack, squeezing him tight and breathing in the smell of his lemony cologne.
“Thank you Zack!” I told him. “From my heart!” I relished holding his body against mine, because I knew he would pull away any second now. He did.
But he didn’t walk off. I needed to talk to him before he ran away like he had the knack of doing.
“So it’s only been a few days, but how are you doing? Any more panic attacks?” I asked him. Mama’s voice boomed in the back of my mind: Have you no shame child? Do not ask people about their private health conditions; it’s not polite! I bit my lip. Sorry Mama.
Zack frowned and I clamped my hand over my mouth. I had to remove it to apologize.
“I’m sorry! My mama was always telling me to shut my mouth before all my thoughts ran out of my head!” I put my hand back on my mouth before I started talking more.
Zack rubbed his eyes then resumed frowning at me. But the corner of his mouth turned up a little. Then the other corner turned up, and pretty soon he was laughing.
I was too afraid of scaring him away, so I just stood there with my hand over my mouth and my eyes wide, watching him laugh and carry on.
“You and that mouth!” he said.
I nodded. It was true. Me and my mouth.
“I saw you trying to talk Harley out of it. You must have had him spinning with your questions. And those fools last night! They’ll cross the street the next time they see you coming!” he said with mirth.
Wait a minute. Last night? He saw that? I slowly removed my hand from my mouth.
“Were you following me Zackory Daniels?” I asked him. I had to know. I mean, I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I needed to hear him admit he’d been following me. I guess it was possible we were just coming home the same way…
He stopped chuckling and realized his mistake.
“I, uh, yeah,” his gray eyes focused on my mouth when I pursed my lips. “And for Pete’s sake will you stop calling me Zackory? My name is Zack. Just Zack,” he said. He took my elbow, in a much kinder hold than Harley had done, and we began walking toward the station. I did want to catch my ride. “You need a protector, my lady,” he said in an affected English accent. “A noble knight to rescue you in times of distress,” he said. Then he kind of growled. “You attract trouble like flies to honey.”
I lifted my chin.
“Maybe. Or maybe trouble is all in the eye of the beholder. Those nice young men just changed their minds about whether or not they needed my help,” I said.
“Your help?” he asked, skeptical.
“My help getting into hell,” I finished with a straight face.
We both started laughing. Then we heard the train and had to run to make it in time.
I was secretly pleased that he got on with me and we sat, huffing and puffing, next to each other.
“This is like that first night we met,” I said. “Except I believe I almost passed out that first time,” I said when I looked at him.
Maybe it was my relief that he’d taken care of Harley for me. Maybe he was glad I’d dropped the panic attack discussion. But I tilted my face up to see his beautiful gray eyes, and I swayed a little bit…from wanting him? From the movement of the elevated car?
His eyes grew da
rker as he continued to look at me.
Kiss me, I thought to myself. Kiss me now. I was practically begging him with my eyes and my mouth. I gently parted my lips and let my tongue peek out and lick them quickly.
He reached a hand out to my face and cupped my cheek.
“When you were singing tonight,” he began. His voice seemed hoarse. “I felt something,” he said. He looked so uncomfortable I just wanted to hold him. But he was telling me about a feeling he was having. This was epic! This was bigger than a tornado in the middle of a trailer park parade!
I waited, holding my breath. I felt the heat from his palm on my cheek. I could soak that in for days. He let his thumb stroke my cheekbone ever so gently. I thought I was going to melt right into the vinyl bench. He’d have to scoop me up and pour me into my bag.
“I felt this unbelievable connection to you,” he said. He dropped his hand and I swear on Mama’s grave I whimpered.
“That probably sounds weird,” he said. He shifted slightly, removing that nearness between his black denim-clad thigh and my legging where my dress had ripped farther up the slit.
“No Zack, not weird,” I argued softly. “I feel it too. Every night I try to connect with the audience on some level. I try to get in their heads and their hearts. I have this theory that certain chords match up with sound waves and if I hit them just right, I can wiggle my way right into their hearts and tweak them until they want to cry!” I blurted out. Then I saw a hurt expression cross Zack’s eyes. What did I say wrong this time? I sat back with a thump, feeling stupid. He didn’t let me finish. I wanted to explain that the feeling I had at that same time was nothing I’d experienced before, ever.
“Oh,” he said. “I thought…” then he didn’t finish his sentence. What? What did he think? Oooh I wanted to poke and pry and get that final thought out of his head so bad I could taste it. But between his grim look and Mama’s caterwauling in my head, I decided I better let it go.
“Thanks again, Zack, for saving me,” I finally said as the train pulled into my station. I had no idea if he was getting off here or riding onward. I wished it wasn’t so awkward between us. I wished I could invite him for tea and conversation. Ray!
