which could not be described as complimentary. Still grinning, Joanne pointed to her own crotch and said, “Eat me.”
“I’m probably the only one in town who hasn’t,” Vicky commented.
“Tell that to Lenny. He does it all the time, and lots of other things, too.” Joanne traced the top of her G-string with her finger. “Doesn’t that bother you, to know that you can’t even turn on your own husband? To know that he’s gotta come to me when he wants someone to do it right?”
“It doesn’t bother me at all. You two are made for each other—you’re both screwed up in the head.”
“You know, if I told him you said that, he’d probably beat the shit out of you again.”
“I know, and if he does, I’m going to beat the shit out of you, ”Vicky told her. “You’ll have a hard time giving blow jobs with your jaw wired shut.”
Joanne laughed and gave Vicky the finger. She started to go back to the stage, but paused suddenly and said over her shoulder, “I’m glad your dog died.” Then she hurried back into the harsh blossom of stagelight .
The next song came on, thundering. For an instant, Vicky had almost lost control; she could see herself dragging Joanne off the stage by her hair and mopping the floor with her. It was an exciting fantasy; perhaps one day she would.
««—»»
At a quarter past one, only a few customers remained. Vicky could taste closing time; the thought of bed and sleep titillated her. She went to the farthest corner and began wiping the tables down, a scurrying shape in the dark. Someone touched her shoulder then, and she cringed before turning, suspecting a late visit from Lenny; but the dread lifted when she saw Kurt standing behind her.
“Did I miss last call?”
“No, no, we’re open till two,” she said. “Sit. I’ll get you something.” She got him a beer from the bar, returning in seconds. She was surprised at how happy she was to see him.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” he said. “I remember once when I was about sixteen, Glen and I made fake mustaches out of our own hair and tried to get a seat. We thought it would make us look older. We weren’t two steps into the place before the bouncer threw us out. He told us to come back when we could grow real ones.”
“The curiosity of youth, right?”
“Oh, sure. Nothing wrong with that.” Kurt glanced across to the dark, empty stage. “What happened to the ‘speculative’ dancers?”
“They usually knock off at one. That’s when everyone starts going home.” She thought that he looked almost vulnerable in normal street clothes, and younger. The candlelight brought his face out in relief, flickering softly. She caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. “What brings you out so late?” she asked.
“Wasn’t tired when I got off work, nothing but kung fu movies on the tube. That’s what I hate about four-to- twelves , it’s always too late to do anything when the shift’s over.” He sipped his beer and seemed to experience a childish rush.
“What’s the latest on Cody Drucker?”
Kurt couldn’t help but smile. “We still haven’t found the old coot. I just can’t figure out what anyone would want with a dead body, especially his dead body.”
Vicky grinned at the grim hilarity of it all. She reached into her apron for a cigarette. “It’s weird, even for this town.”
He reached across the table and lit her cigarette, but he held the flame up, suddenly staring at her.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
He strained his eyes on her face. “Your— You look like you have cotton in your mouth. What—”
Vicky looked down at the table, frowning.
“He hit you again, didn’t he? He punched you in the mouth.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. She trained her gaze on the orb. “So what else is new?”
He gripped the table edge, his face suddenly ugly with anger in the reddish light.
“Lenny got pissed this morning when you came over.
“I’m probably the only one in town who hasn’t,” Vicky commented.
“Tell that to Lenny. He does it all the time, and lots of other things, too.” Joanne traced the top of her G-string with her finger. “Doesn’t that bother you, to know that you can’t even turn on your own husband? To know that he’s gotta come to me when he wants someone to do it right?”
“It doesn’t bother me at all. You two are made for each other—you’re both screwed up in the head.”
“You know, if I told him you said that, he’d probably beat the shit out of you again.”
“I know, and if he does, I’m going to beat the shit out of you, ”Vicky told her. “You’ll have a hard time giving blow jobs with your jaw wired shut.”
Joanne laughed and gave Vicky the finger. She started to go back to the stage, but paused suddenly and said over her shoulder, “I’m glad your dog died.” Then she hurried back into the harsh blossom of stagelight .
The next song came on, thundering. For an instant, Vicky had almost lost control; she could see herself dragging Joanne off the stage by her hair and mopping the floor with her. It was an exciting fantasy; perhaps one day she would.
««—»»
At a quarter past one, only a few customers remained. Vicky could taste closing time; the thought of bed and sleep titillated her. She went to the farthest corner and began wiping the tables down, a scurrying shape in the dark. Someone touched her shoulder then, and she cringed before turning, suspecting a late visit from Lenny; but the dread lifted when she saw Kurt standing behind her.
“Did I miss last call?”
“No, no, we’re open till two,” she said. “Sit. I’ll get you something.” She got him a beer from the bar, returning in seconds. She was surprised at how happy she was to see him.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” he said. “I remember once when I was about sixteen, Glen and I made fake mustaches out of our own hair and tried to get a seat. We thought it would make us look older. We weren’t two steps into the place before the bouncer threw us out. He told us to come back when we could grow real ones.”
“The curiosity of youth, right?”
“Oh, sure. Nothing wrong with that.” Kurt glanced across to the dark, empty stage. “What happened to the ‘speculative’ dancers?”
“They usually knock off at one. That’s when everyone starts going home.” She thought that he looked almost vulnerable in normal street clothes, and younger. The candlelight brought his face out in relief, flickering softly. She caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. “What brings you out so late?” she asked.
“Wasn’t tired when I got off work, nothing but kung fu movies on the tube. That’s what I hate about four-to- twelves , it’s always too late to do anything when the shift’s over.” He sipped his beer and seemed to experience a childish rush.
“What’s the latest on Cody Drucker?”
Kurt couldn’t help but smile. “We still haven’t found the old coot. I just can’t figure out what anyone would want with a dead body, especially his dead body.”
Vicky grinned at the grim hilarity of it all. She reached into her apron for a cigarette. “It’s weird, even for this town.”
He reached across the table and lit her cigarette, but he held the flame up, suddenly staring at her.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
He strained his eyes on her face. “Your— You look like you have cotton in your mouth. What—”
Vicky looked down at the table, frowning.
“He hit you again, didn’t he? He punched you in the mouth.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. She trained her gaze on the orb. “So what else is new?”
He gripped the table edge, his face suddenly ugly with anger in the reddish light.
“Lenny got pissed this morning when you came over.
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