emotion behind their pot-fueled glaze.
“I’m afraid to even go home alone anymore,” Madison said through her tears. “This could have been me. There is still so much I want to do with my life, I still haven’t gotten my headshots done. I want to get an agent, and this happens. It could have been me.” A number of them mumbled agreement to this last statement.
No one said anything personal about Kelly. No one really knew her that well. She had been a visitor in their life not a resident. I knew I should speak up but I had no words so I poured a tall glass of Jack, said a silent prayer and proceeded to get drunk. Turaj came up to me at the bar and started to speak, but before the words could come out I shut him down. “Don’t do it Turaj. Walk away.” He must have seen the danger in my eyes, looking down he moved to the other side of the club.
“Do you have a problem with my nephew?” Manny asked, stepping in beside me and pouring himself a short shot of Jack.
“He’s a weasel Manny, and if he wasn’t your kin I probably would have busted his ass a long time ago.”
“His father, my brother gave his life so that I could make it out of Iran, did you know that?” Manny said looking out at the room.
“No I didn’t.”
“Family, honor, very important Moses. When we grew up we were very poor, had nothing. Grew up fighting in the streets my brother and I. Whatever we had we got and held onto by knife or by gun. In the last days of the revolution it was a running gun battle for the border. Get out with what you had. At a roadblock my brother drew fire allowing me to get our families across. He died in those sands so I could be here today. Did you know I have a son who is a doctor and a daughter who writes for the New Yorker, she says I am an exploiter of women. And Turaj, he dreams of one day following in my footsteps. I know he steals a little here a little there, but he only steals from what will one day be his, so what is the crime?”
“What do you want from me, Manny?”
“I want you to give him the respect you give me.”
“Tall order,” I said, letting the amber booze flow down my throat.
“I wish he was tough like you, most Americans are soft. It is my fault, I wanted to protect my children from the hardness I grew up with. But you must respect him. Ok?”
“I’ll try, for you Manny.”
“Good. Now I have to go home. Junie is waiting up, and after thirty years I know better than to keep her waiting long.” With a laugh Manny walked out of the back of the club. He was living proof that the American dream was alive and well. Turaj danced in jerky motions with Taylor, who had given up her grief and was now seeing if seducing the manager could get her better shifts.
It didn’t take long before the wheels came off the affair. It turned from a memorial to a wake to a party. I sank into one of the leopard print couches and let the room swirl around me like an Impressionist painting. The whiskey washed up and over me, leaving me beached on the couch in its warm glow. The room was all light and color, Florence Welch was singing
“He looks so sad, don’t he look sad, Ronnie?” Lupita swayed at the blurred edge of my vision.
“Pitiful baby, just pitiful.” Ronnie’s ebony form slipped up. Her face soaring high in the distance above me. They were both a step past tipsy, one shot shy of drunk.
“Let mamacita make you feel better.” Lupita slid her soft fingers over my forehead.
Ronnie giggled, filling my vision with the sloping valley of her cleavage. “I hate to see a good man down.” Swinging a leg over mine Ronnie sat on my lap, facing me, she started to gently grind to the beat. Lupita crawled onto the cushion beside me rubbing herself against me. Somewhere in my reptile brain the blood started to rush. “Give it up baby, you’re in Queen Ronnie’s house now.” She moved her lips close to mine, our whiskey-laden breath mingling in the tiny space between our lips. Looking deep into my eyes she rubbed her breasts against my chest. I could feel her thighs rub against me, pelvis against mine. Lupita was all over me with hands and body. Like that Hindu goddess with all the arms, I couldn’t tell where one woman stopped and the other started, but it all felt soft and good. The music changed and Sinead O’Connor was wailing out
“What’s wrong mi amore?” Lupita purred in my ear, her hand fumbling on my limp member.
“It ain’t you girl…I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting too old for this…” If they heard me they didn’t react. They stepped up the rhythm drunkenly laughing while they stroked me from all sides.
“Off.” They both froze at the sound of Piper’s voice. She stood planted firmly in the swirling room. “I said off.”
“Shit girl we weren’t doin’ nothin’.” Ronnie stood up, swaying on her feet.
“We just want to make him happy,” Lupita slurred. “Tell her, Moses.” I reached out for words, but only found a thick tongued mumble.
“Scram. Go on, I’m not playing.” Piper said shooing them off with a wave of her hand. Sitting down next to me she patted my thigh, looking out at the building debauch.
“You wan’ a drink?” I fumbled the words.
“No. I drink for boredom, tragedy I take straight up.” Drifting her fingers over my face she spoke quietly, “You’re going to be ok, you know that don’t you?”
“Sure, I’m going to be fine.” Lying was getting to be a habit with me. I lay back into the cushions closing my eyes. I felt the room spin as I fell into warm silky blackness.
CHAPTER 5
Somewhere on the other side of the worst headache known to man I could hear the distant thunder of a leaf blower. I peeked out through puffed eyelids and saw crystals hanging in the window. This was not my home. This was not a home I had ever been in before. My mind felt thick, like I had pickled more than a few brain cells. I was clearly not up to the task of figuring out where I was. Above me, a brass and oak ceiling-fan spun in lazy circles. Piper leaned down into my field of vision. She was wearing an oversized Raiders tee-shirt. “Don’t look so nervous, it’s me.” Apparently we were in her brass bed. This scrap of information cleared nothing up for me.
“How did I get here?” I asked, my voice sounded like a distant growl.
“You said you wouldn’t survive unless I let you fuck me… I’m joking, Mo. Relax, your chastity is intact. I drove your useless ass home. Helped you stumble into my bed.” I let my neck muscles go, my head sinking backinto the pillow. My temples throbbed and my mouth felt like I had spent the night chewing on an old running shoe.
Piper traced the scabbing tattoo of Kelly on my shoulder. “That’s going to be hard for us real girls to compete with.”
“Not a lot of real girls lining up to compete with anyone for me. Maybe you hadn’t noticed.”
“Christ, Moses, there were girls all over you last night, or were you too lost to notice.”
“Ohhh… Did I get a dance from Ronnie?” Blurred memories flitted in and out of focus.
“No, she tried but you shocked us all and declined. We may have to change your name to Saint Moses.”
“That’s good.” She was gently stroking my hair while the world slipped away.
When I awoke again, Piper was standing by the side of the bed, she had on a short Catholic schoolgirl’s skirt, knee high white socks and saddle shoes. Her cleavage spilled out of a Wonderbra as she leaned over. In her hands, a glass of O.J. and a bottle of aspirin. “Come on big guy, I need to get to the club, and you need to go home and shower ‘cause you be stinkin’,” she said with a laugh.
“How come you look so good and I feel so bad.”
“Maybe it’s youth, or maybe I didn’t try to drink the bar dry. Now take your aspirin like a good little Moses, and let’s roll.” I did as I was told, nothing I ever drank tasted as good as that O.J. Sitting up, my brain seemed to
