Chapter 9
It was ten o'clock at night, and Cindy and her mother sat at the bar of The Crazy Cockatoo drinking martinis and staring out the big picture window at waves breaking on the shore below. At the other end of the room, beyond the forest of tables, a young man was strumming a guitar and singing.
Cindy was not used to drinking, but now that she had had several martinis she decided she'd been missing out on quite a lot. Her head swam with the excitement of the soft lighting of the club and the people milling about the bar, and the sound and sight of the Atlantic Ocean rushing in great swirls of luminescent foam just outside.
"This isn't much like Hurley, Texas, is it, honey?" Mamie said.
"No," Cindy said, laughing, "thank goodness."
Her thoughts returned to Hurley, of the only movie in town, the single ice cream place,-and the secret visits she and Rosalie had made to The Prairie Flower Saloon to peek through the back windows. She giggled, thinking of the time she saw her stepfather in the bedroom with the skinny prostitute. It hadn't seemed funny then, but now it did. She must tell her mother about it later.
Cindy drank the last of her martini, "I'd like another of these," she said, smacking her lips.
Mamie gulped her drink. "Me, too, Fletcher," she said to the bartender, "let's have another round."
"You bet, Mamie," Fletcher said.
"How you doing, kid sister," Mamie asked Cindy, giving her a nudge.
"Fine," Cindy said, "just fine, mo ... Mamie, I mean. I feel like I'm walking on air."
"Good," Mamie said approvingly. "But you ain't seen nothing yet. There are ways to have fun you never dreamed of."
The bartender brought them two drinks. "Two martinis for the prettiest girls in the place," he announced. "One for you, Mamie my love. And one for your lovely kid sister, Cindy."
"You've got big eyes, Fletcher," Mamie said, "but I'm saving Cindy for bigger things."
Fletcher shrugged. "The story of my life."
Cindy sipped at her drink and stared thoughtfully at her mother. In the dim lighting of the nightclub, Mamie Drucker could pass for her sister. The indirect lighting softened the lines around the eyes and neck, and her relaxed pose made her seem like a serene schoolgirl. Cindy felt giddy. All the excitement of the club, of finding her mother after so many years-that, combined with the alcohol, was beginning to affect her.
"Mamie," she said, holding onto the bar to steady herself, "I think you're wonderful. I want to be just like you, and I want you to teach me everything you know."
Mamie smiled. "That's just what I had in mind, honey. I'll teach you everything I know. And believe me, that's a lot."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Cindy said seriously.
"Say," Mamie said suddenly, getting off the barstool, "you haven't met my friend Mike yet."
She took Cindy's hand and guided her through the tables to where the guitar player was playing and singing. He was tall, well-built, with clear grey eyes and long black hair parted at one side. He was singing a sad song, one that Cindy had never heard before.
Mamie waited until he'd finished, then she said to him, "Mike, I'd like you to meet my kid sister, Cindy. Cindy, this is Mike Bradbury."
"Happy to meet you, Cindy," Mike said, flashing her a smile and taking her hand gently in his.
"Stop over later if you have a chance," Mamie invited.
Mike nodded, and Mamie seized Cindy's hand again and flew back to the bar with her, where she ordered two more martinis.
"I'm beginning to feel dizzy," Cindy said.
"It takes a while to get used to it, honey," Mamie said. "Oh, there's Moose now."
Cindy focused her eyes on a man coming through the doorway. Dressed in grey business suit, he was a man in his late forties, with narrow shoulders and a chest that had slipped below his belt. He came over to the bar and put an arm around Mamie.
"Mamie," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "It's been a long time."
"Long time, huh?" Mamie said wtih a smirk. "I saw you yesterday, you lecherous bastard!"
"Well, it seems like a long time," he said. "Who's your friend?"
"My kid sister Cindy, just in town from Texas," Mamie said.
"Cindy, I'd like you to meet Moose Warren."
"Well, well," Moose said warmly, looking Cindy up and down, "I can see good looks runs in your family, Mamie."
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Warren," Cindy said.
"Call me Moose, all my friends do," Moose said, putting an affectionate arm around her. "Let's find ourselves a booth in back where we can talk."
"Good idea," Mamie agreed, sliding off her stool. "C'mon, Cindy."
"Here, let me help you," Moose offered.
He put his hands on Cindy's waist, high up under the breasts, and lifted her from the stool, his fingers lingering for a moment as though testing the flesh. "Thank you," Cindy said.
"My pleasure," Moose said with a big grin.
"I'll bet it is," Mamie said, grinning back at him.
Moose led the way among tables toward a darkened leather-lined booth set in one corner of the room away from the bar, the bright lights, and Mike Bradbury who was still strumming his guitar and singing.
Mamie dropped back slightly and took hold of Cindy's arm. "Be extra special nice to Moose, Cindy. He's a real prince of a fellow. Besides, he's got money. He owns this place and a couple of others. He could do you a lot of good."
Cindy nodded dutifully, though she didn't see how he could do her a lot of good. Ahead of them, Moose was taking a RESERVED sign off the booth table.
"Here we are. You in first, Cindy."
Cindy sat down and slid across the leather seat, aware suddenly that her dress had slid up over her knees. Moose was staring at them admiringly, but she didn't mind. She had nice legs, and it was only natural that a man should like to look at them.
Moose slid in next to her. "Not every day I get the chance to sit between two lovely young girls," he said. "What'll you have?"
Mamie slid in next to Moose, and when the waitress came over she said, "I think I'll try a gimlet."
"Me, too," Cindy said, though she didn't know what a gimlet was.
Moose went along with that, and when the drinks arrived he raised his glass. "Let's have a toast," he said, "to Florida's latest acquisition, Miss Cindy Drucker."
Cindy smiled, pleased by the attention, and drank with them. She became aware that Moose's hand was under the table on her leg, which he was squeezing affectionately, but she didn't mind. He was just being friendly. Besides, she was having a good time, thanks to her mother and the atmosphere and all the martinis she'd consumed.
"I expect to see a lot more of you, Cindy," Moose said, "a lot more."
"That," Mamie said slowly, "could be arranged. As a matter-of-fact, I thought we might get together at my apartment later for some fun and games."
"I'd like hat," Moose said enthusiastically. "Sounds like fun, doesn't it, Cindy?"
"Yeah," Cindy said enthusiastically, "sounds like fun."
Moose turned his attention to Mamie, and while the two of them were whispering conspiratorially together, Cindy sipped at her drink and tried to focus her attention on the singer, Mike Bradbury, and the words of the song he was playing. It was a slow, sad ballad of unrequited love, and Cindy wondered why the man didn't sing any happy songs.
Vaguely she heard her mother and Moose arguing, but she paid it no mind.
"Be reasonable, Mamie," Moose said in an annoyed voice. "Five hundred bucks is a lot of money."
Mamie shrugged. "Where else can you get a virgin so cheap?"
"Look," he said, "set it up and I'll give you a hundred dollars."
Mamie drained the fluid from her glass and stood up. "C'mon, Cindy. There's another place I want to show you. I've got friends there, too."
Dtuifully, Cindy drank the remainder of her gimlet and started to slide out of the seat. Moose's hand was still on her leg, this time under the skirt, moving slowly, his fingers caressing the soft flesh of her thighs. Reluctantly, he moved away and stood up.
To Mamie he said "Two-fifty," in a desperate tone.
Mamie ignored him. She took Cindy's arm. "Come on, Cindy." To Moose, she said, "If you change your mind, we'll be at The Store. But I guarantee we won't be there for long."
Mamie took her hand and led Cindy through the crowd. Mike looked up, smiled and waved. Cindy smiled and waved back. He seemed like such a nice fellow. In fact, the entire world seemed to be getting better all the time.
They walked out into the cool Florida night, got into Mamie's ancient car and drove along the coast.
"What were you and Mr. Warren talking about?" Cindy asked.
"Just some business," Mamie said. "Did you like him?"
"I guess so," Cindy replied, though she hadn't actually thought about it. She giggled. "He had his hand on my leg."
"That's because he likes you, honey," Mamie said, pleased. "And I don't blame him, because you're a chip off the old block."
Cindy was pleased. She wanted to be just like her mother, forever young and popular, and she wanted her mother's friends to like her too.
"How are you feeling?" Mamie asked
"Fine, just fine," Cindy said, sliding down in the seat.
They drove along in silence and Cindy dozed. She awakened as Mamie shook her by the shoulder and sat up startled, to find the car parked on a busy street lined with bars and nightclubs.
"We're here," Mamie announced.
They got out and started walking along the street, among the crowd of people. From the open doors came a cacophony of sound, intermingling music, laughter, the sounds of dancing. The sidewalk people were dressed casually in flowery sport shirts, slacks, pedal pushers, and there was a carnival atmosphere prevalent.
At one end of the block was The Store. It had obviously once actually been a store. Now the large windows were painted black, and only a small sign indicated that the place was a coffeehouse. The room was long and dark, the only illumination being tiny candles burning feebly at each table. In a far corner, bathed in blue light, two girls dressed in tight black outfits were playing bongo drums and a flute.
"Bet you never saw anything like this back in Hurley?" Mamie said proudly.
Wordlessly, Cindy nodded agreement Her mother led her through the maze of darkened tables and found an empty one against the wall. She peered intensely to penetrate the gloom. In the flickering candlelight she could see an occasional face, generally bearded.
"Wait here," Mamie said, and got up.
A moment later she returned with two glasses of wine. Cindy sipped at hers and made a face.
Mamie laughed. "You'll get used to it. In fact, you'll get used to a lot of things. One thing you've got to remember is that you're not in a small town any more. You've got to act like a sophisicated woman of the world."
"I'll try," Cindy said, seriously.
Mamie patted her hand. "I'm sure you won't disappoint me, honey. You must'nt be alarmed by anything someone does in a friendly fashion. Like Moose, I mean. If he wants to put his hand on your leg, well, so why not?"
"Why not!" Cindy agreed, sipping her drink.
"Remember that's what makes the world go 'round," Mamie went on. "A little affection between a man and a woman won't do anybody any harm, now will it?"
"No harm at all," Cindy agreed. Now that she'd gotten over the shock of the initial taste, the wine didn't seem too bad. Of course, she had the cocktails to help numb her tastebuds first, so that helped.
She felt a warm, rosy glow deep inside her and felt it creep through her entire body the more she drank the red wine. She was more relaxed than she had ever been in her life, and she found herself tapping her fingers in time to the strange music.
Mamie rose. "I'm going to call that guy and see why he's not here," she said, annoyed. She disappeared into the darkness.
A moment later, the bartender appeared before her with two fresh glasses of red wine.
"Compliments of the management," he said. "You a friend of Mamie's?"
"Yes," Cindy said, trying in vain to focus her eyes on him.
"So am I," the bartender said. "In fact, I've been very close to her on a couple of occasions. You new around here?"
"Just arrived yesterday," Cindy said, "from Texas."
The bartender looked her over. "Is it true what they say about Texas girls?"
"I don't know, what do they say?"......
"They say the're tall in the saddle," he said, guffawing, while Cindy looked at him, puzzled, wondering what the joke was. "Look, we've got a hot party lined up after closing. How about going with me?"
"That's very nice of you, Mr. ... er
"Just call me Carlo."
"... Mr. Carlo, but I already have a party lined up."
"Lucky fellow," Carlo said wistfully. "Maybe another time."
He disappeared, and Mamie appeared an instant later. "I found him," she said.
"Who?"
"Jay. The fellow who was over at my place when you arrived. He said he'd meet us there later."
"Oh," Cindy said. She didn't like Jay, but if he was her mother's friend, she determined to be nice to him.
"By the way," Mamie said, "I noticed Carlo was over here. He ... uh ... didn't say anything to you, did he?"
Cindy stared at her.
"Anything about him and me, I mean."
"He said you two were close friends, that's all."
"He would," Mamie said, grimacing. "Sometimes he gets pretty damn smug." She glanced at the clock over the bar. 12:30. "I wish Moose would hurry up."
"Maybe he won't be here," Cindy said hopefully. She was beginning to get very sleepy.
"He'll be along, all right. Moose has his pride. He doesn't want to miss out on a good thing even if it costs him money. He won't miss the party, especially with you there, honey."
Cindy had forgotten about the party, and the reminder made her feel even more exhausted. It would be rude of her to suggest that she go to bed while the others were up enjoying themselves, but she was feeling very tired, and things weren't as bright and clear as they'd once been.
"Well, it's about time," Mamie said.
Cindy looked up to see Moose Warren making his way through the crowd toward them. He gave Mamie a half-hearted grin. "You drive a hard bargain, Mamie."
Mamie smiled, pleased with herself. "I know what the market value is for good merchandise, Moose honey. Do you have the money with you?"
He nodded. "Five hundred in cash, like you wanted."
"Good." Mamie held out her hand. "Let's have it."
"Uh-uh," Moose said, unsmiling.
"When I get delivery."
"Okay," Mamie said with a shrug. She stood up. "C'mon, Cindy, we're going home."
With Mamie leading the way and Moose in the rear, they threaded their way among the candle-lit tables of the coffeehouse. Cindy glanced up as they passed the bar, and Carlo the bartender winked at her.
The night air was cool. It partially awakened Cindy, but it also gave her a headache.
"I hate to be a party-pooper," she said, "but would you two mind if I went right to bed?"
"Of course not dear," Mamie said. "In fact," Moose said, "I'll insist on it."
The two of them laughed at some private joke, but Cindy took no notice of it. Once inside the car she began feeling sleepy again, and she was only vaguely aware of Moose's hands eagerly reaching up under her dress.