?Some.?
?You still doing that little creep with the nightie?? Casual.
?Who?? She ran her tongue around the edge of the burger, like a child with an ice cream cone.
?Guy with the knife.?
?Knife?? Absently.
?You know, ch #232;re, little man likes to stroke his tallywacker while you model his mama?s sleepwear??
Julie?s chewing slowed then stopped, but she didn?t answer. Her face looked like putty, smooth, gray, and without expression.
Jewel?s nails clicked against the tabletop. ?Come on, sugar, let?s turn it up a notch. You know who I?m talking about??
Julie swallowed, glanced up, then returned her attention to the burger.
?What about him?? She took a bite.
?Just wonderin? if he?s still around.?
?Who?s she?? Garbled.
?Tempe Brennan. She?s a friend of Dr. Macaulay. You know her, don?t you, ch #232;re??
?Something wrong with this guy, Jewel? He got the gon or AIDS or something? Why you asking about him??
It was like interrogating a magic eight ball. If answers floated up at all they were random, not tied to specific questions.
?No, honey, I just wondered if he?s still comin? around.?
Julie?s eyes met mine. They looked uninhabited.
?You work with her?? she asked me, her chin glistening with grease.
?Something like that,? Jewel answered for me. ?She?d like to talk to this nightie guy.?
??Bout what??
?Usual stuff,? said Jewel.
?She a deaf-mute or something? Why can?t she talk for herself??
I started to speak, but Jewel wagged me silent.
Julie didn?t seem to expect an answer. She finished the last of the burger and licked her fingers, one by one. Finally.
?What?s with this guy? Jesus, he was talking about her, too.?
Fear surged through every nerve in my body.
?Talking about who?? I blurted.
Julie regarded me, jaw slack, mouth half open as before. When not speaking or eating she seemed unable, or unwilling, to maintain its closure. I could see specks of food in her lower teeth.
?Why do you want to turn this guy?? she asked.
?Turn him??
?He?s the only steady bang I?ve got.?
?She?s not interested in turning anybody, she?d just like to talk to him.? Jewel.
Julie sipped her drink. I tried again.
?What did you mean, ?he was talking about her, too?? Who was he talking about, Julie?? A look of bewilderment crossed her face, as if she?d already forgotten her words.
?Who was your regular talking about, Julie?? Jewel?s voice was growing weary.
?You know, the old lady that hangs around, kinda butchy, with the nose ring and the weird hair?? She tucked one of her own lank strands behind an ear. ?She?s nice, though. She bought me doughnuts a couple of times. Isn?t that who you?re talking about??
I ignored Jewel?s warning squint.
?What was he saying about her??
?He was pissed off at her or something. I don?t know. I don?t listen to what a trick says. I just fuck ?em and keep my ears and my mouth shut. It?s healthier.?
?But this guy?s a regular.?
?Kinda.?
?Any particular times?? I couldn?t help myself. Jewel gave me an ?Okay, you?re on your own? gesture.
?What is this, Jewel? Why?s she asking me all this?? Again, she sounded like a child.
?Tempe wants to talk to him. That?s all.?
?I can really do without this guy getting busted. He?s a creep, but it?s regular money, and I need it real bad.?
?I know, sugar.?
Julie swirled the last of her drink then tossed it back. Her eyes avoided mine.
?And I?m not going to quit doing him. I don?t care what anybody says. So he?s weird, so what, it?s not like he?s going to kill me or nothing. Hell, I don?t even have to fuck him. And what else would I do with my Thursdays? Take a class? Go to the opera? If I don?t do him some other whore will.?
It was the first emotion she?d shown, the adolescent bravado a contrast to her previous listlessness. I ached for her. But I feared for Gabby, and wouldn?t let up.
?Have you seen Gabby lately?? I tried to sound softer.
?What??
?Dr. Macaulay. Have you seen her recently??
The lines between her eyes deepened, reminding me of Margot, though the shepherd probably had better short-term memory.
?The old lady with the nose ring,? said Jewel, emphasizing the age indicator.
?Oh.? Julie closed her mouth, then let it drop back open. ?No. I?ve been sick.?
Stay cool, Brennan. You almost have enough.
?Are you better now?? I asked.
She shrugged.
?Will you be okay??
She nodded.
?Do you want anything else??
She shook her head.
?Do you live close?? I hated using her like this, but I wanted a bit more.
?At Marcella?s. You know, Jewel, over on St. Dominique? A lot of us crash there.? She refused to look at me.
Yes. I had what I needed. Or would, very soon.
The burger and the booze and whatever else she?d taken were having their effect on Julie. The bravado ebbed, the apathy returned. She slumped in the corner of the booth, eyes staring out like the darkened circles on a gray-faced mime. She closed them and took a deep breath, swelling her bony chest inside its cotton tank. She looked exhausted.
Suddenly the Christmas glow was gone. Fluorescent brightness filled the bar and Banco was bellowing its imminent closing. The few remaining patrons moved toward the door, grumbling their dissatisfaction. Jewel tucked her Players into her halter and indicated we should follow. I checked my watch-4 A.M. I looked across at Julie and the guilt I?d been beating back all night surged up with full force.
In the unforgiving light Julie looked like a near cadaver, like someone slowly shuffling toward death. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her for a moment. I wanted to take her home to Beaconsfield, or Dorval, or North Hatley, where she would eat fast food and go to the prom and order jeans from the Lands? End catalog. But I knew it would not happen. I knew Julie would be a statistic, and, sooner or later, she would be in the basement at Parthenais.
I paid the bill and we left the bar. The early morning air was moist and cool and carried the scents of river and brewery.
?Good night, ladies,? said Jewel. ?Don?t y?all go out dancing now.?
She wiggled her fingers, turned, and clicked rapidly up the alley. Without a word, Julie departed in the
