?Or your friend Gabby.?
An offering. Should I push?
?Do you think I could find him??
?Frankly, sugar, I don?t think you could find your own butt without a map.?
Nice to be respected.
Jewel took one last drag, flipped the butt, and ground it with her shoe.
?Come on, Margaret Mead. Let?s bag us some roadkill.?
31
JEWEL WALKED WITH PURPOSE NOW, HER HEELS CLICKING A RAPID tattoo on the pavement. I wasn?t sure where she was taking me, but it had to beat my cement perch.
We went east two blocks, then left Ste. Catherine and cut across an open lot. Jewel?s apricot sculpture moved smoothly through the dark while I stumbled behind, threading my way through chunks of asphalt, aluminum cans, broken glass, and dead vegetation. How could she do that in stilettos?
We emerged on the far side, turned down an alley, and entered a low wooden building with no sign to indicate its calling. The windows were painted black and strings of Christmas lights provided the only illumination, giving the interior the reddish glow of a nocturnal animal exhibit. I wondered if that was the intent. Rouse the occupants to late night action?
Discreetly, I glanced about. My eyes needed little adjustment, since the amount of light inside differed only slightly from that outdoors. Staying with the Christmas theme, the decorator had gone with cardboard pine for the walls and cracked red vinyl for the stools, accessorizing with beer ads. Dark wooden booths lined one wall, cases of beer were stacked against another. Though the bar was almost empty, the air was heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, cheap booze, vomit, sweat, and reefer. My cement block began to hold more appeal.
Jewel and the bartender exchanged nods. He had skin the color of day-old coffee and heavy brows. From under them, he tracked our movement.
Jewel walked slowly through the bar, checking each face with seeming disinterest. An old man called to her from a corner stool, waving a beer and gesturing to her to join him. She blew a kiss. He gave her the finger.
As we passed the first booth a hand reached out and grasped Jewel?s wrist. With her other hand, she uncurled the fingers and laid the hand back in front of its owner.
?Playpen?s closed, sugar.?
I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept my eyes on Jewel?s back.
At the third booth Jewel stopped, folded her arms, and shook her head slowly.
?
The booth?s single occupant sat staring into a glass of watery brown liquid, elbows on the table, cheeks propped on curled fists. All I could see was the top of a head. Greasy brown hair divided unevenly along the crown and hung limply to either side of the face. White flecks littered the area of the part.
?Julie,? said Jewel.
The face did not look up.
Jewel clicked again, then slid into the booth. I followed, grateful for the meager cover. The tabletop was slick with something I didn?t want to identify. Jewel leaned an elbow on its edge, jerked back with a wiping gesture. She dug out a cigarette, lit it, blew the smoke in an upward jet.
?Julie.? Sharper.
Julie caught her breath and raised her chin.
?Julie?? The girl repeated her own name, sounding as if she?d been roused from sleep.
My heart slipped in an extra beat and my teeth grabbed for my lower lip.
Oh, God.
I was looking at a face that had lived no more than fifteen years. Its color could be described only in shades of gray. The pallid skin, the cracked lips, the vacant, recessed eyes with their somber underlining looked like those of someone long deprived of sunlight.
Julie stared at us without expression, as if our images were slow in forming in her brain, or recognition a complex exercise. Then.
?Can I have one, Jewel?? English. She reached a trembling hand across the table. The inside of her elbow looked purple in the room?s muted glow. Slender gray worms crawled across the veins on her inner wrist.
Jewel lit a Player and handed it to her. Julie pulled the smoke deep into her lungs, held it, then blew it upward in a Jewel pantomime.
?Yeah. Oh yeah,? she said. A tiny scrap of cigarette paper stuck to her lower lip.
She drew again, eyes closed, completely absorbed by the smoking ritual. We waited. Double tasking was not within Julie?s capacity.
Jewel looked at me, eyes unreadable. I let her lead.
?Julie, darlin?, you been workin???
?Some.? The girl sucked another long drag, blew two streams of smoke from her nose. We watched them dissolve, silvery clouds in the reddish light.
Jewel and I were silent while Julie smoked. She didn?t seem to question our being there. I doubted she questioned much of anything.
After a while she finished, stubbed out the butt, and looked at us. She seemed to consider what benefit our presence might hold.
?I haven?t eaten today,? she said. Like her eyes, her voice was flat and empty.
I glanced at Jewel. She shrugged and reached for another cigarette. I looked around. No menus. No blackboards.
?They got burgers.?
?Would you like one?? How much cash did I bring?
?Banco does them.?
?Okay.?
She leaned from the booth and called to the bartender.
?Banco. Can I get a burger? With cheese?? She sounded six years old.
?You?ve got a tab, Jules.?
?I?ll get it,? I said, sticking my head out of the booth.
Banco was leaning against the bar sink, arms folded across his chest. They looked like baobab branches.
?One?? He pushed off.
I looked at Jewel. She shook her head.
?One.?
I turned back to the booth. Julie had slumped into the corner, her drink held loosely in two hands. Her jaw hung slack, leaving her mouth partially open. The paper still rode her lower lip. I wanted to pick it off, but she seemed unaware. A microwave beeped, then hummed. Jewel smoked.
Shortly, the microwave gave four beeps, and Banco appeared with the burger, steaming in its plastic wrapper. He placed it in front of Julie and looked from Jewel to me. I ordered club soda. Jewel shook her head.
Julie tore the cellophane, then lifted the top to inspect the contents of the bun. Satisfied, she took a bite. When Banco brought my drink, I stole a peek at my watch. Three-twenty. I began to think Jewel would never speak again.
?Where you been workin?, sugar??
?Nowheres special.? Through a mouthful of bun and burger.
?Haven?t seen you lately.?
?I was sick.?
?You feelin? better now??
?Mm.?
?Working the Main??
