5.3 – The Curtain Falls

Friday, May 26, 1993 – The Night before the Funeral

Chuck did one last once over in the mirror -hair, collar, shirt tuck- as Gina breezed through the bedroom in a skirt, heels and a bra.

“I can’t believe you let Lydia talk you into going to a gay bar. Art thou    curious, my love?” Chuck said, still looking in the mirror.

“No -I’m not curious, thug that you are. She thinks she can intimidate me, and that’s not going to happen. We’ll see who has the last laugh.” Gina reappeared ready to go, a leather blouse-jacket, barely buttoned up to the crease between her breasts.

“The heels might be a bit much, darlin’. Remember -them girls is rough. I’d hate to find you toppled over by the bar. I might not make it there in time.” Chuck held his arm up for her to hold onto.

“You do realize your mother will be placed in the ground tomorrow. I’ve never met your family, Chuck. Something about this all seems so wrong.” Gina looked at him, wondering what he was feeling.

“Well -they’ve made it all these years without me. I wouldn’t know ‘em if I passed them on the street. Trust me -it’s best we not go.”

Gina started to speak, but decided against it. She turned and headed out the bedroom. Chuck slipped his silver case from his pocket, popped a pill, and slipped it back in.

“C’mon -let’s go!” Gina yelled, waiting by the front door.

Chuck glanced one last time in the mirror, and caught his own eyes looking back at him …” who is this bastard looking back at me …

*          *          *

“Welcome to the Cat’s Meow, Mistress Gina. We’re so glad you could come!” Gina -hand clasped in Chuck’s- led as they wound their way through  the random groupings of females along the aisle.

“So this is your hood, huh? I imagined worse. It’s actually quite svelte.”

Lydia paused -as she always did when first encountering Gina. Chuck was looking for the bar.

Gina -Chuck- this is Seale. A leggy, dark-skinned woman-thin, svelte and tall- her back to Lydia, stepped out from behind where Lydia stood and turned to face the group. She reached out a long, muscled arm to extend her hand in greeting.

“Pleased to meet you both.” Seale’s voice sounded like the ocean -deep, vibrating- in waves.

“And just so everyone knows -Seale is with me, so don’t go gettin’ any ideas Gina.” Lydia laughed and elbowed Gina in play. “We already know Chuck has all kind ‘a ideas.”

“Hah-hah …. anybody want a drink, cause I’m on my way.”

An oval contour made up the walls and ceiling in the club. Track lighting lined the bar’s counter across the way. Tall black bar chairs made up the seating with an occasional tall, skinny table situated throughout. A South African beat coursed through the floors and ceilings as women strolled, danced and fondled all about.

Lydia grabbed both women’s hands and led them towards the dance floor, as Chuck made his way to the bar. Crowds cluttered throughout, Chuck had to bob and weave his way to the counter, and to his surprise, Durnard appeared leaning ever so casually against the bar.

“Hey -what’re you doing here?” Chuck said.

“Lydia told me you guys would show. I figured you could use a compadre amongst all these wayward females. Besides -it gives me a chance to check out the competition.

“It’s wild in here, man. I feel like Egor at a castle soiree.”

“Who da hell is Egor?” Durnard said. “By the way, you’re girl is out on the dancefloor with your possee.”

Chuck glanced towards the floor unconcerned, then flagged down the     bartender. “Could be interesting, huh?”

“Shoulda learned your lesson with Lydia. You trying to send Gina over da the  fence too?”

“I’m just trying to hold it together man. Whatever will be, will be.” The silver case came out and down went pill number two of the night.

Chuck tapped his fingers on the counter, waiting for the bartender. “Twas the night before the funeral, and all through the bar, slipped wet and horny women while I remained afar.” Chuck laughed. And laughed some more. And couldn’t stop laughing.

The bartender approached, and Durnard waved him away. He grabbed Chuck by the arm.”C’mon man -let’s get some air.”

© 2009, J. A. Jeanty. All rights reserved.