by Robert Ward
Crystal kept right on prancing about, shimmying and shaking and then coming real close to me and reaching down and kissing me on the forehead while whispering, “Hey, Red Baker,” and I reached up for her, but she stepped back and danced down the other end of the bar, trying to cheer up the grim guys down there. Looking at her I thought of those USO girls. It occurred to me that she was kind of a welfare worker of the body, using her natural delights to keep the whole, burned-down, wasted town afloat.
And thinking that made me love her all the more.
“Buy you a drink, Red?”
I turned and saw Billy Bramdowski, who worked up above me in his glassed-in pulpit. It was up to Billy to move the big tables I worked on from side to side, guiding the molten steel into the right pass while I turned it with my tongs. Just like Dog, he was part of our team, and I trusted him completely. He was a real pro up there, something like an artist the gentle way he moved all that red-hot steel, and he better be too, because if he jerks the table too hard I got a hot bar of steel flying off the table onto my legs. Just last year Tom Chenowith lost his right leg when one of the other pulpit operators showed up with the shakes from too much booze. But Dog and me didn’t have to worry about that with Bill, because usually he was a sober, mild-mannered guy. Only tonight he looked about as down as the rest of us, his face red from drinking and his blond hair matted to his head.
I put my arm around his shoulder and gave him a hug.
“Look like you been doing a little drinking tonight, Bill.”
“Well why not?” he said. “Celebrating some.”
“Celebrating what?” I asked.
“New baby, Red.”
“You had another kid. Nobody said anything to me …”
“No, not yet. Just found out. Jennie’s expecting. Number four.”
“Hey, that’s great Bill,” I said, thanking God it wasn’t me.
“Yeah, real timely, huh?” he said, laughing and calling Deena over.
“Hey, you hear that, Dog? Billy’s wife is having another kid.”
Dog gave me a look like this guy should be packed out to the farm but managed a couple tinny congratulations.
“Four kids,” Billy said, staring into his beer. “Right on time.”
“Hey, we’ll be back in there soon,” I said.
“Hey, I know it,” Billy smiled. He winked at me and started to push his money at Deena, but I grabbed his hand and reached for my wallet.
“Tonight, I buy you a drink.”
But Billy pulled away from me and waved his arms.
“No way. We’re having the kids, and I’m buying the booze. What the hell, Red, this is the last night I’ll get out in a while. Two o’clock feedings, you know?”
“If you say so, Bill.”
“I say so,” he said in a voice that was too loud and hearty for him.
“Hey,” he said, pointing to the stage. “Look at that woman dance!”
Billy started waving to Crystal, who saw him, waved back, and began to get all inspired, touching the inside of her hard thighs and darting her sexy tongue in and out of her mouth like a snake.
“Alll riiight!” Dog yelled, pounding the bar.
“Do it Crystal,” Billy said, taking ten dollars out of his wallet and throwing it up on the stage. Crystal winked at him and ever so sexily picked it up without missing a beat. She stuffed it into her bikini bottom and pranced on down the bar and began slithering around the fire pole that was in the center of the stage.
This sent Billy and Dog and some of the other boys over the edge. They were screaming and yelling, and though I joined them, I was miserable as hell.
“Good times,” Billy yelled. “Good times … Have ‘em while you can!”
He pounded me on the back and walked down the bar toward the men’s room.
“When did he become such an ass kicker?” Dog said. “He’s always been on the quiet side.”
“World’s full of surprises,” I said, looking glumly up at Crystal. I know it’s wrong and outdated, but I was thinking of her as my girl and wished to hell she was crooning her tunes down the Starlight Lounge instead of shaking her ass for all of Baltimore.
Finally her set ended, and she tossed a gold lamé shawl over her shoulders and hopped down off the stage.
“Hi ya, hon,” she said, coming around the bar and standing behind me. I couldn’t resist it any longer and didn’t even give two shits who saw. I put my arms around her and held her tight. Just seconds ago she’d seemed like the Queen o’ Sex up on the stage, but now she had changed into this innocent little girl, and I wanted to protect her, hold her safe from all the trouble the world loves to lay down on you. That’s the glory of women for me. They are all at least five different people, every time, and I’ll never understand how they do it. I mean, keep all those separate personalities straight. What amazes me is that they don’t even seem to know it. It comes natural to them, and if you ask them about it, nine out of ten will tell you a logical explanation for each of their different parts, which sounds good while it’s being told but, when you think back on it, never adds up to anything like the whole story.
Even Dog cheered up just standing next to her.
“I heard you boys got the pink slips today. Well, join the club. The Starlight just told me they’re going to go with a jukebox. I won’t be singing there anymore. Got to be the slut queen here instead.”
She smiled so sweetly when she said it that I gave her a squeeze.
“Hey, don’t run yourself down, hon,” I said. “You are the queen of every steel man’s heart.”
Crystal gave me a little peck on the cheek and winked. “A girl has got to try to find her fun where she can, hon, but you know my heart belongs to song.”
“And you can sing with the best of ‘em,” Dog said. “They ought to let you put your piano up there on the stage and do your numbers right here.”
“Vinnie isn’t interested in my voice,” Crystal hummed.
Billy Bramdowski came back from the men’s room. I noticed he had put on some weight around the middle. He smiled and gave Crystal a hug.
“You’re wonderful,” he said. “Isn’t she terrific, Red. Hey, Crystal, you hear about Jennie? She’s having a baby.”
“She is?” Crystal said. “That’s wonderful, Billy.”
She shot me a look then, and I looked away. There had been times when we were together late at night dreaming about Florida, when having kids together seemed like the most natural and logical thing in the world.
“Yeah,” Billy said. “Four babies and no job. But we’re going to hang in there. Count on that!”
“That’s right,” Crystal said. “I’ll tell you what, I think the bar ought to buy us all a drink to celebrate Billy’s kid. What do you say, Deena?”
Deena broke into her horsey laugh and started taking the orders, when behind us I suddenly heard a voice that sounded like a file being rubbed across steel.
“Hey, what’s this, charity day? Since when do you buy my customers drinks?”
Without even turning around I knew who it was. None other than Vinnie Toriano, the owner of the Paradise Lounge.
“No, Vinnie,” Crystal said. “I just thought since Billy’s wife Jennie is having a baby, you wouldn’t mind springing for a round of drinks.”
I turned and looked at Vinnie. He was fatter than ever, wearing his light green leisure suit and a silk shirt with this paisley print that looked like the bugs we looked at in night school class down Essex Community College. Parameciums. Though I would guess a paramecium had more soul than Vinnie Toriano. I’d known this moustachioed grease ball since we were kids, about as long as I’d known Dog, and you’d think by now with all of us pushing forty he’d mellow out some. But he still talked in his Godfather voice, still had to be the hard guy who gave people shit. Still hung around with his two goons, Frankie Delvecchio and Joey Capezi, both of whom had faces like hatchets and mean ferret eyes, though Joey wore a toupee these days. They were with Vinnie
now, standing a few feet away, just staring at Dog and me. Old wars from childhood, which they would never forget.
Vinnie looked at Billy Bramdowski and slapped him on the back.
“You having a kid, Bill. That’s fine. I’ll be happy to buy you a drink. Have whatever you want. These other jerkoffs want to drink with you, they got to pay cash.”
“Christ, Vinnie,” Crystal said. “Don’t be such a douchebag.”
“Hey,” Vinnie said. “I heard what happened to you down the Starlight. You want to be out in the snow like Baker and Donahue here, that can be arranged.”
“Hey, Vinnie, leave Crystal out of it,” I said. “She was just happy for Billy here, that’s all.”
I wanted to say a hell of a lot more than that and could feel the anger rising in me, but I knew starting trouble wouldn’t do Crystal any good. Next to me, Dog was half off the barstool. Behind Vinnie, Joey Capezi and Frankie Delvecchio inched forward a little, moving together like they were attached at the waist.
“Hey, it’s like I say, Bill,” Vinnie said. “You want a drink, you got it. You’re having a baby, that’s just fine. But what are you celebrating, Baker, getting laid off down the plant? Or maybe you got some new plans. Like running for mayor!”
Joey and Frankie laughed in unison, only Frankie didn’t make any noise. He just opened his mouth and moved his head up and down like a spring doll of Gino Marchetti I once had in the back of my first car.
“That’s all right,” Billy Bramdowski said. “If my friends can’t drink with me, then I’ll pay for everybody.”
“Suit yourself, sucker,” Vinnie said, curling his fat lower lip into a snarl aimed at me and Dog. “As for you, Crystal, how many times I gotta tell you, when you’re working I want you behind the bar or mixing with the customers. Baker here ought to be home with his family anyway.”
“Leave my family out of it, lardass,” I said, stepping down from the bar.
“You telling me what to do in my place, Baker?” He turned and looked at his two boys, who took another step up.
Dog slid off the bar and picked up a bottle of National Bohemian, and I saw doubt in Vinnie’s eyes.
“You know?” Frankie said, “I don’t know why you don’t throw all three of ‘em out of here, Vinnie. Broad ain’t got any tits anyhow.”
I was about to move forward when Crystal suddenly turned and slapped Frankie right in the face. He fell backward, and somebody sitting at one of the tables managed to stick his foot out, sending him ass over heels on the floor.
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again, you sleazebag. You want to fire me, Vinnie, I’ll walk right out of here now. You want that? Tell me. Just say so.”
Now Vinnie stared hard-faced at Dog and myself. I caught a shot of Billy from the corner of my eye. He was picking up a bottle.
“Hey, let’s take it easy,” Vinnie said. “Everybody’s getting too damned upset. Let’s all cool down, what you say?”
He wasn’t about to fire Crystal just yet. She was the bar favorite, and the fat boy would have lost half the regulars.
Besides, it wasn’t any secret that Vinnie had about as big a crush on her as I did, which was half what all this was about anyway. He had recently opened another place down in Curtis Bay called Mona Lisa Pizza, which was modeled after some Wop museum he’d seen on one of his Mafia charters to Italy. This place was his pride and joy, made from Formstone, with stained-glass windows and a moat full of plastic goldfish. Inside there were two rooms—the Da Vinci and the Michelangelo—and girls dressed like peasants with pretorn dresses, which Vinnie had gotten from seeing the movie Spartacus (there were also a lot of crucified Christians in the movie, but he couldn’t figure any way to work that into the general theme). In the midst of all this splendor, you might expect Roman slave girls to bring in suckling pigs and all. But the best that simple-assed creep could come up with was pizza with names like El Greco’s Supremo and Attila’s Revenge. The point being that just last week Vinnie had suggested to Crystal that the Paradise and Mona Lisa and all the rest of his greasy kingdom could be hers and his if only she would put out for him from time to time. She had told him that there was as much chance of this happening as the Colts staying in Baltimore, and now, in his stupid, savage way, he had to break her chops and mine whenever he had the chance.
But tonight he had pushed it too far, and he knew it. His fat belly was quivering with fear and hatred, and he was breathing in short, deep bursts. Behind him Frankie picked himself off the floor and looked at Crystal with those little eyes, narrow slits like the edge of a knife.
“You’re gonna be sorry for that,” he said.
“Shut up, Frankie,” Vinnie said. “Go out and get the car started. Joey, you go with him.”
“No broad’s going to push me around and get away with it,” Frankie said.
“You bother her and it’ll be carnival time for you, shithead,” I said.
“You think so, Baker? You think so?”
“Come on—right now.”
I stepped forward, but Dog grabbed me from behind and Vinnie and Crystal both jumped in the way.
“Frankie,” Vinnie said, “go out and warm up the car. Crystal, get back up on that stage. What the hell am I paying you for?”
“Sure Vinnie,” Crystal said. She gave him a sexy, mocking little pout and then ran the back of her hand across his cheek. Vinnie turned red-faced and backed away from her, stunned.
“Am I gonna see you tonight, honey?” she asked me.
Vinnie heard this as he followed his cretins out the door. But when he got there, he turned back and looked at me. His gold chains were shining in the hot red lights from the stage.
“You gonna push it too far one time, Baker.”
“Blow it out your ass, fat boy,” Dog said. “You scare nobody!”
“You’ll see. One of these days. You’ll both see!” Vinnie waved his fat finger up and down and twisted his lips so he looked like a blowfish. Then he turned and made a movie exit out the door.
“You’re breaking his heart, honey,” I said to Crystal, putting my arm around her shoulder and feeling her perfect, smooth skin.
“Just like you’re breaking mine, Red.”
“Hey, hold on.”
“Am I going to see you tonight?”
I stared down at my drink, ran my hand through my hair.
“I can’t tonight, hon. I gotta go home and break the news to Wanda and Ace.”
Crystal fluttered her long lashes and shook her head.
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to listen to my records with me.”
She looked at me and then over at Dog, who was having a drink with Billy.
“Count me out of this one,” Dog said. “Life is trouble enough without humping you, Crystal.”
“Well, you’ll never know what sweetness you missed, hon,” she laughed.
I felt a pain go right through me to the bone, and I wanted her so badly I almost grabbed her and hustled her out to Dog’s truck.
“Tomorrow night,” I said. “Can you make it then?”
“Maybe, Red,” she said. I guess I got so long-faced that she kissed me, and she whispered, “You know I can. I love you, honey.” That cheered me up, and I ordered another round.
“Gotta dance, hon,” she said. She went back behind the bar and blew me a kiss on the way up to the stage.
“Son of a bitch,” Billy Bramdowski said. “That is one beautiful woman.”
“Kicked old Frankie’s ass too.”
“Yeah,” I said, “some woman.”
Dog looked over at me and shook his head.
“We’re out of fucking work and you’re in love. Ain’t life wonderful!”
But I didn’t hear him. I was busy staring at her dancing and moving to Aretha Franklin, shaking her ass, and running her hands up and down her smooth, flat belly, and I thought of the snow outside, and of Vinnie and his crooked moustache that looked like a caterpillar trying to crawl off his
face, and of the plant closed down, dark and silent, and then Crystal and I were in that big white convertible moving across the endless sun-baked road, heading down through the palm trees to the land where dreams didn’t die.
When Dog left me off in front of our row house on Aliceanna Street, I suddenly had an attack of the Red Baker Special Express Guilts. Began feeling all clammy and wet, like old cardboard left out in the sleet and snow. I mean, what was I doing hanging out there at the bar, seeing Crystal, when I should have been home taking care of my family, figuring out our next move?
Like a high school jerk I stuck a piece of gum in my mouth so Wanda wouldn’t smell the booze and then spat it out on the street, remembering that Wanda knew the only time I chewed gum was when I was drinking hard whiskey. Maybe that was the whole problem, I thought, as I looked in the window and saw her arranging some daisies she’d just bought. You want someone to know you, to share your every secret, someone who you can fill up the lonely mortal space with, and then after they do, you feel all empty and hollowed out. They steal your secrets, they know the fear under your charms. You’re whittled right down to the bone.
So you go out in the street, where you can kid yourself that you’re a different man, acting out a new part with a stranger.
The thought of all that, plus losing the job, made me want to head down the street to Slap’s Tavern, but I made it into the house and tried for an optimistic smile.
“Hi,” she said in that flat tone of voice she used when she had been hurt or disappointed. “Where have you been?”
“Well,” I said, taking off my wet coat and hanging it on the wood peg by the stairs, “I could lie and tell you I was visiting sick orphans down at the Children’s Hospital or reading to the blind over at Church Home Hospital, but the truth is I just came from the Paradise, where Dog and I celebrated the losing of our jobs with a few beers.”
“I see,” she said, turning her back to me and going on with the flower arranging.
“Where’s Ace?” I said.
“He’s down in the basement talking on the telephone. We’ve been waiting to have dinner.”
“Hell, I’m sorry.”
