The Pull of Gravity

by Brett Battles

  Rudy had a way with the girls that was all his own. He had been coming regularly for over ten years, and Jade had told me once that he used to be a lot different than how he was by the time I met him. “Respectful and kind,” she’d told me. “Just a nice guy.” But now he had taken to using sarcasm as charm, and treated the girls as toys who were there for his pleasure. And if that weren’t enough, he was the king of breaking one of the Cardinal Angeles Sins. He was a butterfly, someone who’d bar fine different girls from the same bar on different nights, something he took great pleasure in.

  I had a conversation with him once when we were both still sober that went something like this:

  “If I see something I like in a bar,” he said, something his pronoun for the girls, “I tell her I want to bar fine her. If she says no, I turn to her friend, because they always got friends around, and I offer to bar fine the friend, and promise her an even bigger tip than I would have given the first girl.”

  “And that works?” I asked, knowing that it probably would, but disapproving of anyone who would try it.

  “Nine times out of ten the friend’s sitting in my lap two seconds later.”

  “Good for you,” I said, unable to hold the sarcasm from my voice.

  “Look, it’s their job, right? So if they don’t want to do their job, fuck ’em.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  He shrugged. “I’m here to have fun and get laid as many times by as many girls as I can. If a girl doesn’t like my sense of humor or the way I’m treating them, someone else will. I’m not trying to win any nice-guy medals. This is my vacation, and when I’m on vacation, my heart stays at home.”

  I doubted he had a heart at home, either, but the sad thing was, he was right. There was always a girl who would take his money. Most of them knew what he was like going in, so they didn’t care. But occasionally he’d hook someone who expected him to come back for her, and she’d stare in shock when he came back to her bar and took someone else.

  “Ladies, ladies. There’s plenty of Rudy to go around,” he said.

  He was still surrounded by the mob. No matter how big an asshole he could be, he still fascinated the girls. Several of them were squeezing the muscles on his arms while others grabbed at the bits of chocolate candy he was handing out.

  I glanced around the room to make sure no other customers were being ignored. The only other guy in the place was sitting in one of the booths, cuddled up next to Wilma. So I put on a big smile and walked up to the crowd.

  “Rudy,” I said. “Welcome back.”

  “Hi, Jay.” He thrust a hand at me, nearly taking Rochelle’s head off as he did. I grabbed it and gave it a quick shake.

  “I heard some screaming and thought maybe we were having a riot,” I said.

  “Everywhere I go is a riot.” Rudy laughed at his own joke. “I was just giving a couple of these little beauties bicep rides. Come on, girls, let’s show him.”

  He held his arms out, angled slightly downward. Two of the smaller girls, Tessa and Noreen, wrapped their hands around his biceps, Tessa on the right and Noreen on the left. Slowly, Rudy moved his arms upward until both girls, their legs bent at the knees, were dangling above the floor. Rudy continued raising his arms until he looked like a bodybuilder holding a pose at a contest. Both girls screamed as he began twisting at the waist, moving them back and forth.

  After he set them back down, I led him over to a booth. Several of the girls followed, piling in around him on the bench. Isabel appeared beside me ready to take his order, so I asked, “Something to drink?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “Any preference?”

  “This is the Philippines, so a San Miguel, of course.”

  Isabel was about to turn and retrieve his drink when Rudy said, “Hold on there. Not so fast.”

  She turned back. “Yes?”

  “Let’s see.” He looked at his temporary harem. “Lady drinks for her, her, her and her.” He pointed at a different girl each time. “But not for her,” he said, gesturing at Lamie. “You stood me up last time. So you’re out.”

  Lamie gave a halfhearted laugh and looked around, uncertain.

  “I’m serious,” he said. He flicked his hands in an outward motion. “Shoo. Find someone else, because you aren’t drinking from this well.”

  One of the girls, Veta, leaned over and whispered something in Lamie’s ear. Lamie looked past her at Rudy, then got up and left.

  “What did you tell her?” Rudy asked.

  “I told her she should just go,” Veta said. “That you weren’t interested.”

  “Good girl.” Rudy looked back at Isabel, pointing his thumb toward Veta. “She gets two lady drinks.”

  “Anything else?” Isabel asked.

  “Get yourself a drink, too,” he said with a wink.

  “Thanks,” Isabel said. She turned and headed for the bar.

  “Who’s that?” Rudy asked me, as if none of the other girls were around.

  “Isabel?” I said. “You never seen her before?”

  Rudy started to shake his head, then stopped. “Didn’t she used to be a dancer?”

  “For a while.”

  “She’s fine,” he said.

  “She have boyfriend,” Veta said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She no go out on bar fine.”

  “That a fact?” he asked, looking straight at me.

  “Afraid so,” I told him.

  “Too bad.” His eyes lingered in Isabel’s direction a bit longer than I would have liked.

  Rudy stayed for another hour, judiciously handing out chocolates and occasionally starting tickle fights with Veta and the other girls. But when he left, he left alone.

  “I don’t like him,” Isabel said to me.

  I was standing near the bar, talking with Cathy and keeping an eye on our meager crowd, but I didn’t have to ask her who she meant.

  “Something happen?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said in a way that told me the opposite.

  “You gonna tell me?”

  “Not important.”

  “Tell him,” Cathy said.

  Isabel frowned, then told us how Rudy had offered to bar fine her. She told him no. But ten minutes later, he asked again. When she told him no for a second time, he said he wouldn’t accept no for an answer, and that before he left to go back home, she’d go out with him.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “I said that I was sorry but I don’t go out with anyone. I am just a waitress, I tell him. ‘You cherry girl?’ he ask me. I tell him that is my business. Then he laugh and not bother me anymore. See, it was nothing.”

  Isabel smiled confidently, then left to get drink orders from a new group that had just arrived.

  “I think maybe it was more than nothing,” Cathy said.

  “So do I,” I said.

  • • •

  It turned out to be a slow night all around, and by three a.m. we’d seen the last of our customers. I waited a half hour before officially closing, then told all the girls who remained to head home and get some sleep.

  By this time Cathy was basically living with me. She still shared an apartment with a couple of girls from her province who worked at the Bang-Bang Club, but she was seldom there. Our routine was to close everything down, make sure everyone was gone, then lock up and take a trike home.

  I’d gone into the back for a minute to turn off all the lights. When I returned, I found Cathy talking to Isabel and Noreen. The tone of their conversation seemed serious.

  “Everything okay?” I asked as I walked up.

  They immediately stopped talking and looked up at me.

  “Well?” I asked.

  Cathy glanced over at Isabel, as if she was waiting for her to say something. But Isabel remained silent, so Cathy said, “He’s out there.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked. It had been a long night and I wasn’t connecting the dots. />
  “The big guy,” Noreen said. “You know, from earlier tonight.” She held her arms out like a bodybuilder.

  “Rudy?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Noreen said. “I see him out there. He ask me if Isabel leave yet. I tell him yes, but I don’t think he believe me. So I tell him I go back inside and check.”

  I looked at Isabel. “Have you gone out there yet?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Okay. Noreen, you come with me,” I said. “Let me do the talking.”

  “What will you tell him?” Isabel said.

  “That you’re gone.”

  I put a hand on Noreen’s shoulder and could feel her trembling slightly under my touch. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll deal with him. You can just go home.”

  Cathy unlocked the deadbolt for us and opened the door so we could exit. Manny Aznar, who’d appointed himself my personal ride-home driver, had parked his trike right in front of The Lounge, just beyond the sidewalk. He jumped off his seat the minute he saw me.

  “Hi, boss,” he said. “Home now?”

  “Not yet,” I said.

  I looked around, but didn’t see Rudy at first. Noreen nudged me, and when I looked down, she motioned with her eyes to my left. And suddenly there he was, an image of Thor, leaning against the building. He had one of his Mr. Happy smiles on his face.

  “What’s going on, Rudy?” I asked.

  “Just hanging out.”

  “Noreen tells me that you’re looking for Isabel.”

  “Then Noreen has a big mouth,” he said, still smiling.

  Noreen slid behind me a little more. “Why don’t you go home?” I said to her.

  She tried to smile, then nodded and was gone.

  “Isabel’s not here,” I said.

  “I haven’t seen her leave.”

  “You been here long?”

  “Long enough.” He pushed himself off the building and took a step in my direction. Even in the glow of the streetlights and nearby neon bar signs, it was hard to tell whether he was drunk or not. But Fields being Fields, it was best to assume he was.

  “You been here since ten o’clock?” I asked.

  He stopped about five feet away from me, still grinning. “Like I said, I’ve been here long enough.”

  “Well, unless you’ve been here since ten,” I said, “then you wouldn’t have seen her leave. That’s when she went home sick.”

  He furrowed his brow, his smile slipping a bit. “She didn’t seem sick earlier.”

  “She’s not going to act sick in front of the customers.”

  He seemed to consider this new information. “You’re sure she’s gone?”

  “I already told you she was.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow and see how she’s feeling.”

  “Sure,” I said. “But I can’t guarantee she’ll be here.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not leaving for a week.” He turned and took a few steps down the street before stopping and looking back at me. “I think she and I made a connection tonight.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I said. “Goodnight, Rudy.”

  “Goodnight.”

  As Rudy ambled in the direction of The Pit Stop, I stopped by Manny’s trike and asked him to follow Rudy for a while to make sure the guy was really leaving.

  A half hour later, Isabel joined Cathy and me in the trike as we drove to my house. By then we were laughing about Rudy, saying things like, “He probably won’t remember anything in the morning,” and “I’m sure he won’t come back.” But our laughter was a little forced, and like I said to Rudy, nothing was guaranteed.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next night we employed our creep-watch procedure. If Rudy tried coming in, one of the door girls would engage him in conversation while another would slip inside and warn Isabel and me. If Rudy asked about Isabel, our greeter would tell him Isabel hadn’t come in and was still sick. I knew that probably wouldn’t stop him from checking, but if he did, Isabel would be safely hidden in the back room, and the rest of the girls would claim to not have seen her.

  But Rudy didn’t show up that night, or the two nights that followed. I was beginning to think he had forgotten, and would return to the States without giving us a return visit.

  I was both wrong and right.

  It was Friday night and all hands were on deck. Our slow season was quickly approaching, but on this night we were full up. The liquor was flying off the bar, and the music was about as loud as I could stand it. As far as the crowd went, there wasn’t an empty chair. Over a dozen guys were standing around, drinking their beer and watching the show. We had over thirty-five girls working that night, not enough to go around, but enough to keep most of the customers happy.

  That many people inside meant the temperature was making a fast path to boiling. I had the air conditioning cranked to full, but it wasn’t enough. On this occasion, outside was definitely cooler than in.

  The girls started taking turns going out front to spend a few minutes with the door girls and cool off. I was tempted to do the same, but there was just too much crap for me to deal with. Everyone seemed to want to buy me a beer that night, which meant spending time talking and joking before moving on to the next group.

  I think the last time I saw Isabel was around eleven thirty p.m. This wasn’t surprising; I hadn’t seen Cathy since about nine. It was just one of those nights when everyone was hustling—the waitresses constantly hauling drinks across the room, the dancers grinding to the full extent of their talents, and those sitting with the guys displaying as much affection and interest as money could buy—all of it in an effort to create that perfect experience for the customers, that aura of possibilities that drew them halfway around the world to the dirty streets of Angeles.

  Around one a.m., I suddenly heard Cathy’s voice in my ear. “I need to talk to you.”

  I was sitting with a group of businessmen from Hong Kong—displaced Brits, mostly—talking soccer. Not my favorite sport, but if you spent any time in Angeles, you couldn’t help learning more about it than you ever thought you would. I looked over my shoulder, and found Cathy standing there, grim-faced.

  “Excuse me, guys. Back in a few.” I got up and followed Cathy into the back where the noise was several decibels lower.

  Veta was there, but the moment she saw me, she looked down at the floor.

  “What?” I asked, knowing something wasn’t right.

  Cathy grabbed Veta by the arm, and said something to her in Tagalog. The harsh tone surprised me.

  Veta cried out as Cathy’s fingers dug into her triceps. She mumbled something, then Cathy gave her a shake and told her in English, “Louder!”

  “It’s my fault,” Veta said, still not meeting my eyes. I could see tears beginning to run down her cheeks and heard the fear in her voice.

  “What’s your fault?” I had no idea what was going on. The worst I could conjure up was that Cathy had caught Veta trying to steal something, money maybe, or something that belonged to one of the girls.

  “Isabel,” she said, then began sobbing uncontrollably.

  The hair on the back of my neck began standing on end. “What about Isabel?”

  “She’s with Rudy,” Veta managed.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  But Veta had slipped out of Cathy’s grasp and curled up on the floor. I looked at Cathy.

  “Veta was outside getting some air,” Cathy explained. “Rudy came walking down the other side of the street, and when he see her, she say he call her over.” Cathy looked down at Veta, her face full of disgust. “Rudy tell her he just want to talk to Isabel, that he was sorry there was a misunderstanding. For five hundred pesos, Veta said she bring Isabel to him.”

  Rage is an emotion I seldom feel, but it suddenly coursed through me so quickly it was all I could do to keep it from taking over. I reached down and pulled Veta to her feet. Through clenched teeth, I said, “You took her
to him?”

  “He only want to talk,” Veta said. “That’s what he tell me.”

  “So you gave her to him?”

  “I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I made a mistake.”

  “No shit,” I said. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. I just told her we were going for a walk. As soon as she saw him, she tried to run away, but he grabbed her. I ran away. I didn’t want him to hurt me, too.”

  I looked over at Cathy. “Keep an eye on things,” I said.

  I pushed Veta toward the bar. “Show me where you took her,” I said.

  • • •

  Though Fields Avenue was bright and lively and crowded, there were side streets and alleys where darkness took over. These were the places best avoided on those drunken walks back to the hotel. It was to one of these places that Veta led me.

  “Here,” she said.

  We had come down one of the less used side streets, but could still hear the cacophony of music blaring from a dozen bars only a block away. Veta had stopped beside the darkened entrance of an old building. At one time the place had been a bar called Tony’s Palace, but it had been closed over a year due to the lack of foot traffic.

  There were a few scuff marks in the dirt sidewalk but other than that, there was no sign that anything had happened.

  “You’re sure it was here?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Sure.”

  “Did he say where he was taking her?”

  “I tell you, I run,” she said. “I don’t know where he taking her.”

  “Do you know what hotel he’s staying at?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t tell me.”

  “Not even that first night when he was buying you all those drinks?”

  She thought about it for a moment, then said, “No. He didn’t say.”

  I felt a moment of overwhelming helplessness. They could have been anywhere. He could have done anything to her, even killed her, then gotten on a plane and been back in the States before we even found her. I realized in a hurry I needed help.

  Dragging Veta behind me, I raced back to The Lounge. I had one of the door girls go inside and get Cathy. The girls who remained stared at the emotional wreck that was Veta, wondering, I was sure, what was going on. But there was no way they were going to ask me. I was kind, gentle Papa Jay, so my reasons must have been good.