by Diane Munier
So he was stuck waiting there for Audie and Bobby. Waiting and smoking.
“Mister?”
He opened his eyes and there she was, the little beauty from inside, high school Betty, heartbreaker. This girl had nerve following him out.
He was struck by how pretty she was. He just wanted to hear her talk; then he’d scare her back inside.
She put her hands in her jacket pockets.
He was smoking it down now, trying to be at ease. “What are you doing out here?”
She had on this tight skirt past her knees and bobby socks with those black and white shoes. She looked about sixteen. Or twelve. Cute as shit.
“You just checked me out. Like…up and down.” she laughed a little. A twelve-year-old wouldn’t say that. A sixteen-year-old might.
“Oh yeah? Raised in a barn,” he said. “How old are you?”
“A hundred and twenty-four,” she said, leaning on the wall beside him.
He shrugged and pitched his smoke. “Mature.”
“You been in the war,” she said.
“Think so?”
“Yeah. Can I bum a cigarette?”
He reached into his pocket and brought out the nearly empty pack, shook one up and held it toward her, and she took her little fingers and her unpainted fingernails and pulled it free. She stuck it between her plump pink lips. He flicked the lighter open, and she pulled in, letting out the smoke while she smiled at him. Damn.
“You sixteen?”
“Eighteen,” she said. “I work for Ill Bell. Switchboard. I hate it,” she sighed loudly before taking another pull. “Old ladies all wanting to fix me up with their sons.”
She was lying, but he played along. “You go with them? The sons?”
She laughed, and it was cute, and he didn’t want her…to go with the sons. “Sometimes. But…all the good ones have been gone in the war. Except now…they’ve come home.” She smiled again, took a drag and let it out laughing. “And the good ones don’t need help from their mamas.”
He smiled at that. He surely didn’t need his mother’s help. Good thing. “You always leave before the movie is over?” he said.
“There were some boys…they threw popcorn at me,” she said, like he didn’t know. “Is there any in my hair?” she asked, wanting him to take a look, he guessed, and he was quick to touch her then, his hand on her shoulder as she leaned forward.
Her shoulder was delicate just like he thought, and her hair was soft, but he knew that already. She was feminine, and he liked touching her—too much.
“You’re good,” he said.
She sighed and leaned back, taking another drag. “I hate cowboys. The movie. Those boys—that was funny, what you did. You’re like…Robert Mitchum or something.”
He snorted. “Coffee?” he pointed across the street.
“I don’t drink it,” she said, and he nodded.
“Right. High school girls don’t drink coffee.”
“Ill Bell, remember?”
“Right. A hundred and twenty-four.”
“Your idea.”
“Yeah. You better get back inside.”
She pitched her smoke into the street and moved from the wall.
“I guess. But I’d rather hang with you.”
“You do this with strange guys? You don’t know me.”
“Calling yourself strange, hero?”
“Got a smart mouth.”
She leaned her shoulder against the wall, tipping her head to rest against it as she swayed her hips back and forth a little.
“You were looking at my mouth…before.”
He laughed now. “Shit, girl. You on a bet here or something?”
She thumbed toward the theater. “With them? Francis and Dorie? Nah. Nobody bets on a sure thing.”
“Sure thing,” he repeated, because that was his language.
“I like you, but…you’re a little scary.”
“I scare you?” He worked his sore knuckles.
She just smiled, saw the bruises, and ran her fingers lightly over them. She scared him. What the hell was he doing talking to a dame like this? She had this kind of look and touch that did flips in his stomach.
“What’s your name?” she said.
Right on time they heard it, the whistle and the “Yo, Jules.” Audie Finn could blow paint off the walls with that horn of his.
He heard Audie say to Bobby, “He’s got a broad.”
Jules shook his head as he flattened himself on the wall. “Ignore that—him.”
She laughed a little. “Healthy set of lungs.”
“Hey…you want…” He thumbed toward those guys. “You hungry? My buddies and me…we’re going for some dinner…I mean…come with us.”
She looked over her shoulder, gathering her jacket more tightly around her. “I don’t know anyone.”
“Hey.” He held out his hand. “Come with…”
She looked at his hand, but she didn’t take it, and he let it drop. “What’s the matter? You married?”
“No,” she laughed.
“Come on…it’s just some grub and a beer…”
“Those girls…if Francis and Dorie could come…I would.”
He laughed—that blondie and the little climber? “No.”
She laughed too. “Get rid of those girls, and I’ll get my friends. They’re way better than those sluts your guys are with. “
He shrugged. “You got some guts for a little girl. How you know those broads won’t rip your hair out when they find out you’re moving on them?”
“They let your boys pick them up. We saw it when we were buying our tickets. Those girls wait outside the show and pick up soldiers. They do it every weekend. Tell your boys to get rid of them, and we’ll meet you around the block. You got a car?”
He could hardly keep up. “How old are you?” he asked again.
She stared at him. “I told you already.”
“Give me the number,” he said. They weren’t going forward if she couldn’t answer a simple question.
“Eighteen,” she said. “We’re all eighteen. At least.”
“You really work for Ill Bell?”
“Yeah,” she said. “We’re operators.”
“Okay…operator. Get your girls. We’ll pick you up. Green Buick.”
Jules walked Isbe back to the theater. Audie had his eyes on her. Bobby was preoccupied with the two broads. It would be this way. Bobby had been lacing their Cokes from his flask. He stayed pickled as a rule.
Audie eyed Isbe and whistled. Jules pretended he wasn’t annoyed. But the girl didn’t seem to scare easy; if she did, it was over.
Isbe looked at them boldly and waved her fingers before going inside.
“C’mon,” he said to Audie. “Give me your keys.”
“What? I’m driving.”
“Give ’em to me.”
Audie dug in his pocket.
“Where is it?” Jules asked.
“Around the corner,” Audie slurred.
Jules ran lightly to the vehicle, the green beast that belonged to Audie’s uncle. He got in and started it up and drove it around to the front of the show. The four of them piled into the backseat, and he hadn’t even taken off before they were lip-locked with those broads.
“Hey, no boom-boom in here,” he laughed, but they didn’t hear or care. Normally he’d crank the radio and flip the mirror up, but he didn’t do that now. He circled the block, and Isbe’s gang was just coming out of the theater. Isbe must have had to twist their arms to get them to agree. Well, it would be over soon. Even as he’d spied her, just a flash of her coming out of that theater, it was like she was burned on the back of his eyelids. If he had a girl…like one you died for—lived for—she might be it. If such a thing…
Audie was getting crazy, kicking the seat like he was raising over that broad. “No fuckin’!” Jules yelled. Not yet, anyway.
The second time around the block, those girls were coming around the corner. Jules pu
lled to the curb and barely hit the horn. He heard Francis say, “That’s a green Buick.”
“Hey, hey,” Jules said, letting his arm fly as he whacked anyone in the backseat he could reach. “Cut it out. There’s some nice girls here want a ride.”
He knew that Francis had figured it out. She was talking a mile a minute to the other two. He saw Isbe’s face, that beautiful face looking in the car now, seeing the pile in the backseat, and looking to him, and he shrugged.
“Get in,” Jules called to the girls, but he meant her…Isbe.
They were arguing, and he saw Isbe’s face; he was bent low so he could see her.
“Come on.”
“Not with them,” Francis said. “Get out of here.”
“Who’s that?” Audie said, finally coming up for air.
“These girls want to go with us,” Jules said.
“That’s your broad,” Bobby slurred. He was never so drunk he couldn’t keep the chicks straight.
“What the hell’s going on?” Blondie One said.
“Get rid of these two,” Jules said, meaning the “sluts.” “We got these others…operators.”
“Not anymore,” Bobby sang while Blondie Two kept trying to turn his face toward hers so they could keep smooching.
Bobby cranked the door.
Audie yelled, “Hey, shut that door! We got pussy here…”
“Pussy?” Blondie Two said. “Don’t be crude.”
“Hey!” Bobby yelled toward Isbe’s gang.
Jules had his hand over his mouth. Was he going to let Isbe get away like this? He thought he would let it play out. But she was going to round that corner and then he’d lose her.
Bobby was out of the car going after the operators, but Blondie Two wasn’t having it. She got out too, pulling at her dress. “Hey, get back here, Bobby!”
“Hey you, in those jeans!” Bobby called. Dorie wore rolled-up jeans. With his long legs, Bobby caught up with them easy. Jules moved the car slowly forward. He hadn’t thought Isbe would retreat so quickly. She was disappointing him.
She stared at him while Bobby talked to the one called Dorie, but that big one, Francis, was yakking away. She was pissed.
“What’s going on?” Blondie One kept saying. “Get in the car,” she was telling her friend.
“No. No. I ain’t doing this. That guy had his hand up my dress, and now he’s going after that broomstick?” Two pointed at Dorie.
“We’re gonna have steak,” Blondie One said.
Audie lunged for her again. “Drive,” he said to Jules, his hand between Blondie’s legs.
But Blondie shoved him off. “You guys—you promised!” she screeched at Audie.
Audie put his hands up like she’d pulled a gun. “Calm down.”
Blondie One wasn’t calming. “We gonna have dinner and go dancing like you said?”
Audie leaned back and closed his eyes. “Sure.”
Jules was trying not to laugh. He watched in the mirror, and Blondie tried to push Audie forward so she could dig out his wallet. Audie heaved a sigh and pushed her hand out of the way and went for it himself. He threw ten dollars on her lap.
“Ten lousy dollars!” she screeched.
“I didn’t have change,” Audie said.
She hit on him for that, and he covered his head and laughed. Then she was pulled out of the car by her friend, and they yelled their way down the street.
Jules put on the gas, and the car moved, the back door still open wide. He pulled up next to the girls where Bobby was still negotiating their surrender. Audie had stayed quiet until they got close. “I’ll take that one you had.”
“Hell you will,” Jules whispered. She was staring at him, and he saw her make up her mind.
She hit Dorie on the arm. “Come on,” she said. Then she walked toward the car, and he leaned over and opened the door.
Chapter 2
The girls approached the Buick, and Bobby stood sentry at the back door. Isbe said something to the other two over her shoulder and skipped around the front of the car.
Jules said, “Hey…hey…” as Isbe came to his left, her breasts moving. She was all lit up. He liked the whole package, but where the hell was she going?
To his right, Francis steered that little one to the front seat.
Bobby said, “Nah…nah…” as Dorie got in beside Jules and big tits got in next.
Left again, and Jules tried to grab Isbe as she passed his window. She veered out of his long reach and damn near went in front of an oncoming car. It honked, and Jules got startled, and that loosened his tongue, and he flipped the bird and yelled, “Watch where you’re goin’, asshole!” and the guy slowed down, and Jules could see him looking back and his mouth going. Normally he’d be out by now dragging that shitbag from his car and beating his nose into the back of his head, but all that was forgotten when he watched Isbe get in the backseat next to Audie.
Audie was scooting over and saying, “Yeah baby, you got it right.”
“That guy almost hit you,” Jules turned around and scolded her. But he wanted to say, what game you playing? Get your sweet ass up here by me where you belong. And then he wanted to punch Audie’s nose.
He knew the anger was rolling off him. Little Bits sat beside him, looking wide-eyed and a little scared, kind of leaning toward Francis as she slammed the door.
Bobby was still holding the back door open, but leaning in now, speaking to Dorie. “Hey little girl, come on now…”
And Dorie looked all around like she didn’t know what to do, cause Isbe and that Blondie ran the show.
Jules adjusted the mirror to look right in Isbe’s big brown betraying eyes. “What you doin’?” he said.
“She’s doing the right thing, that’s what,” Audie said, his gorilla arm going around Isbe’s delicate shoulders.
“Get up here, girl,” Jules said, more strongly than he should have. He didn’t beg. He stared at her as he lit a smoke.
“Drive the car. Drive the car,” Audie said.
Isbe pushed Audie’s arm off of her and scooted right up to Jules. “Ain’t this what we do? You sit behind me…I sit behind you.” She put her arms around his neck and giggled in his ear, and it gave him chills and damn this girl. She was a flirt and a half, and she had no idea about him. She reached for his smoke and took a drag and then she held it between his lips, and he took a drag, and then she stole it back and did it all again.
“Is this a ducktail?” she said, rubbing her fingers in the back of his hair, and he blinked to keep his eyes from rolling.
Audie yelled Jules’s name, and he looked in the side view and pulled into traffic.
“How the hell…” Bobby drawled, and that said it all because their situations had changed. “Me and you baby,” he said to Audie, and he threw his arms around him and kissed his ear.
“Not your damn tongue,” Audie groused, shoving Bobby off and wiping his ear on his shoulder.
Dorie was looking back there, and she squealed and bobbed up and down.
Everyone laughed—except Jules. He was looking in the rearview at the monkeys, and at Isbe, wanting her closer and knowing her ass was too close to Audie.
But she kept talking in his ear, and he felt her lips there. “Where we going, hero?” Then she yelped and jumped a little and slapped at Audie.
Audie said, “Sorry, baby girl. Sit back here. You don’t want that chimpanzee.”
“I’ll pull over, bastard,” Jules said to Audie. Isbe tried to feed him the smoke, but he shook his head a little. Not now.
Audie grinned. He was mad he’d lost that Blondie that put out. Jules knew because the Blondie they had now was gonna make him work for it. Getting at Isbe was getting at Jules, and Audie had that ugly side. He waved at Jules and flipped him off, all in the mirror. But he’d better mean that wave, or he’d be sitting on that bird.
These dames didn’t know who they were with, Audie, Bobby, and Jules—Gorilla, Baboon, and Chimp. That’s what they called each o
ther, along with many variations like “banana licker,” “red ass,” and “pee drinker.” But those names and the behavior they were attached to would hopefully stay in the bottom drawer while they were trying to impress these girls.
Shit, had they lost it? Whores didn’t mind, but real girls…what the hell had he been thinking to try this?
Jules veered a little because Isbe was pretty much breathing in his ear and it was going straight to Willy boy. That was his spot there on the neck. She was on it like she knew.
Isbe was suddenly yanked away, and she squealed and laughed. Jules was watching, and he ran up on the car in front of him and slammed on the brakes because the light was red. They all yelled and laughed more, but Blondie told Jules to look at the road. Then she jumped because Bobby had his hand between her seat and the door.
“Get your hands off—” Blondie yelled.
Bobby said, “It’s gin, mama.” He was offering his flask.
Blondie took it, smelled it, and chugged it.
“Let her go,” Jules told Audie, because he had his hands all over Isbe now.
She was laughing because he was doing his Frank Sinatra in her ear. Then he poked her side and said, “Ticklish?” And someone honked because the light had changed.
“Off,” Isbe said, laughing and pushing at him. “I’d hate to burn you with my cigarette.” She flicked ashes on him.
“Hey, shit,” Audie laughed, brushing at the ash.
“Drunk asshole,” Jules said, as much to himself as to Audie.
Blondie took another chug of Bobby’s liquor.
“My kind of girl,” Audie said from the back.
“Don’t count on it, buster,” Francis said, capping it up and handing it back to Bobby. “There’s something between my legs and my ears.”
Audie had this look on his face. “Your smart mouth is outstanding,” he said in mock-awe.
Dorie piped up, “Guess I’ll try some of that booze.” No one had thought to offer.
Bobby flipped the cap and handed it to Dorie. “Go easy, little girl.”
“Ain’t you the good Boy Scout,” Audie praised Bobby, smacking him on the back.
Dorie took a drink and coughed and shivered. “Gasoline,” she said.
