Chuck Freadhoff - Free Booze Tonight Page 12
“I was lying. Look, Delilah wants to be a star so I promised to make her one. I figured I’d get her in the car, tell her that we had to stop at the casino for a moment, and bingo, she’d be all yours. I had it all planned.” Sure, the truth has a lot going for it, but in stressful situations I usually rely on my A game, lying through my teeth.
Royal Rob glanced back to the door. “Shaq, get in here,” he yelled and the dwarf sauntered in. He was dressed in a charcoal suit with a pink shirt and a stunning maroon tie. He was still wearing the fedora pulled low on his forehead.
“Well?” Royal Rob said.
“He’s lying through his teeth,” Shaq said. “They were going back to L.A. Let me kill him, boss.”
“So, you got out of the bus,” I said. “Find a can opener?”
Shaq took two quick steps forward, but he had that fedora pulled so far over his eyes it must have interfered with his vision. He bumped into Jimmy’s thigh and did a quick half spin, leaving him eye level with a smiling Winnie covering Jimmy’s vitals.
It took about half a second for Shaq to realize what the beloved childhood character was covering. He jumped back, landed on a pizza carton — double garlic and sour cream — lost his footing, did a back flip, and hit the floor with a thud. Jimmy stepped over to him and rested a foot on his chest.
Royal Rob rolled his eyes and turned from Shaq to me. “So, where’s Delilah?”
“I don’t have a clue,” I said and suddenly realized how sincere I sounded when I told the truth. If I could learn to fake that, just think of the possibilities. “Toughie’s looking.”
“Why aren’t you with her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She told me to wait.” Yup, telling the truth — like a day at Disneyland, it’s really a lot of fun, but it’d probably get old if it was an everyday occurrence.
Royal Rob glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you until noon. After that I’ll find her myself.”
Shaq moaned and his eyes fluttered as he came back to life. At first he seemed confused, as if he didn’t know where he was. He focused on Jimmy’s foot for a second then his gaze traveled along Jimmy’s harry leg and up his very loose boxers. Winnie couldn’t protect him there.
“Ahhhh,” Shaq groaned. He rolled over and bolted out of the room.
Royal Rob followed Shaq to the door. He turned back. “Noon,” he said and stepped out, but was back in a second later. “By the way, if Shaq finds her and brings her to the Alcatraz before you do … .” he shrugged. “Well, Shaq doesn’t play nicely in the sandbox. And he really hates you.”
Jimmy closed the door, eyed James and shrugged. They got back in bed. I looked from one to the other.
“I thought you guys were supposed to protect me,” I said.
“Nah, we’re just supposed make sure you don’t run,” Jimmy said.
“And if you’re dead or badly injured … .” James said.
“You can’t run,” Jimmy finished, grinning.
James clicked the remote and the TV came to life. “Stay tuned to Animal Planet, up next Vultures, God’s Garbagemen.”
I slid to the floor again and rolled onto my side. The pizza box was inches away. The smell of anchovies was overpowering. I lifted the lid. One piece left. I turned onto my back, stared at the ceiling, and listened to the TV drone on about carrion and the cycle of life.
I thought about what my own cycle of life had come down to — trapped between two psycho-killers in Winnie the Pooh underwear and a nearly empty anchovy/pineapple pizza box.
Chapter 41
I’m usually an optimistic guy but it was getting really tough to look on the bright side. The Roo boys were snoring with the intensity of syncopated chainsaws, the room smelled like a fish market in a heat wave, there was no sign of Toughie, and Royal Rob knew where to find me.
I rolled onto my side and opened one eye to peek at the pizza box shoved under the bed. I hadn’t had anything for dinner except a couple of warm beers, and that last slice of double anchovy/pineapple was beginning to look better. It reminded me of my approach to picking up women — be the last guy in the bar at closing time. True, that approach rarely worked, but then I hadn’t eaten the pizza yet either.
Someone knocked and the Roo boys, guns in hand, hustled to the door. Of course, with Jimmy and James hustle is a relative word. It’s like saying the Hundred Years War was quick – the question is, compared to what, how fast an iceberg melts?
Still, just like when Royal Rob had come knocking an hour earlier, they managed to get themselves arranged and Jimmy jerked open the door, James a step behind him.
Toughie ducked into the room. She glanced at the brothers, paused for a half second on their boxers. Then shook her head. “Funny, I had you pegged as Tinker Bell types.” They lowered their guns.
Toughie turned to me. “Delilah’s at the River Queen with Rex the Wonder Dog. But we’d better hurry. Shaq has spies everywhere.”
I scrambled off the floor and slipped past her to wait in the parking lot. Jimmy and James got dressed and strolled from the room. Toughie and I climbed into the back seat of the Continental and we headed out. A vaguely familiar scent filled the car and for a moment I thought the Roo brothers were using Pine-Sol for cologne but then I spotted the deodorizer hanging from the rear view mirror. How had I missed it before? In the dim light it was hard to tell, but the thing looked a lot like Tweety Bird.
There were no big glittering casinos or multistory hotels in this part of town. The motels and small-time clubs here were from the era of orange shag carpets and lava lamps. They reminded me of rich, old winos. They might have a good income, but time and diet had left them looking like Oscar the Grouch with a hangover.
I settled into a corner of the Continental’s backseat, glanced at the Roo boys, as big and immobile as stuffed Pandas, and looked across at Toughie in the other corner.
“You’re sure she’s at the River Queen?” I asked Toughie.
“Positive. I sent her photo to a friend who works there. He confirmed it.”
“So, ah, what’s she doing with Rex the Wonder Dog this time of night?”
“You sound jealous.”
“Me, jealous? No.” An image of Rex the Wonder Dog leering at Delilah leaped into my mind. I ground my teeth and clenched my fist. “Look, I gotta plan ahead, know how to approach her, that’s all.”
Toughie smirked. “Yeah right.”
“Well, you going to answer my question?” I said.
“Last I heard she was just sitting in the audience, watching the dummy insult people,” Toughie said.
“Rex is performing at three in the morning?”
“Yeah, he’s trying out a new routine. This time of the night most of the customers are too drunk to fight.”
“Most?”
“It’s Vegas, Joey. We invented the new normal.”
I had a vision of Delilah getting caught in the middle of a drunken melee and me having to explain to Vincent the Hammer why his rock star daughter had her jaw wired shut. I leaned forward.
“Hey, step on it,” I said.
We hit the River Queen parking lot and I shoved the Continental’s back door open before the car stopped moving. I headed toward the casino on a trot. To my surprise, Toughie matched me stride for stride.
We hustled past the night shift greeter — a discount Doc Holiday — and stopped near a row of slot machines. I took in the place. A few hearty souls, overflowing ashtrays and beer cups at the ready, were playing the slots but the gaming tables were mostly empty. A few of the blackjack dealers looked nearly narcoleptic, rocking back and forth, their heads snapping back as their chins hit their chests. A gaggle of cocktail waitresses stood at the bar surveying the sparse crowd like lifeguards staring at an empty beach on a cold day — no one needed their help. A horn sounded, lights flashed and a slot machine spit out a bunch of coins. A croupier at a poker table glanced at the white haired lady in overalls who’d won, then faced the empty table in front of him again.
Toughie nudged my shoulder and pointed out Delilah at a table off to the side. Her chin rested in her palm, fingers on her cheek, elbow on the table. She was watching Rex through half-closed eyes with the enthusiasm of someone learning about the infield fly rule. I guess a foul tempered wooden dummy was a bit of a let down after hanging out with Dimples the Elephant and Timmy the Tiger.
My gaze shifted from Delilah to Rex and back. I exhaled and felt my shoulder muscles relax. I moved across the room. When she saw me, her face filled with a blend of anxiety and disappointment, like I was the cardboard on an empty roll of toilet paper that she’d spotted a moment too late.
“You,” she said.
I have a friend, a novelist named Jesse James, who claims we only went to the moon to bury Jimmy Hoffa. Now, I know that’s crazy, but the thing is, no one’s ever found Hoffa’s body. So these days I keep my options open and try to believe that just about anything’s possible.
With that in mind, I pulled out a chair and sat. I smiled at Delilah and used the line that men have used for thousands of years and in hundreds of languages.
“Listen, beautiful, I can explain.”
Chapter 42
“This had better be good,” Delilah said.
Laughter came from my right, the table full of college kids watching Toughie advance on their buddy near the stage. I concentrated on Delilah.
On very rare occasions — like maybe once — I’d found that playing the wounded puppy elicits enough sympathy with a woman to give me an edge. I was hoping for something along those lines here.
“I’m in a real bind,” I said. “If I don’t make you a star, your dad’s going to kill me. But if I don’t take you back to Royal Rob, he’s going to kill me.”
A crash came from the direction of the stage. I looked. Toughie had the college boy by his collar and belt and was pulling him toward the table full of his geek buddies. Rex the Wonder Dog was at the back of the stage, the dummy on the floor.
When I turned back to Delilah, she was shaking her head and I could tell she wasn’t buying the puppy routine.
“In other words,” she said, batting her eyelashes at me, “you’re a lying, low life con man whose only concern is staying alive. Does that about sum it up?”
“Well, I never looked at wanting to live as a negative before but, yeah, that covers part of it.”
“What part did I leave out?”
“The part about wanting to hear you sing.”
“Oh please, Joey, we’ve been there and done that. Too bad I don’t have Dimples around. I could climb up on her and escape the BS. It’s getting really deep in here.”
Now she had me totally off balance. I’d gone with the truth and it hadn’t worked. Luckily for me, my mouth kicked in before my brain had a chance.
“But I didn’t give you up to the dwarf, did I? I told him we were going to L.A., right?”
“Well, yeah, I’ll give you that.” Her gaze shifted from me to Toughie who had just dropped the college kid on top of the table his buddies occupied. “By the way, how’s Toughie doing?”
“You know Toughie?”
“Of course. My dad used to take me to the meets when I was a little girl.”
A sense of relief filled me. She wasn’t talking about what a low life I was anymore. I smiled, nodded, and tried to look wise and insightful.
“Yeah, Roller Derby, I can see it.”
For a moment I thought she was going to laugh, but her brow furrowed and she shook her head instead. “Joey, you couldn’t read a map with a magnifying glass and a compass. How did you get to be so clueless?”
Her gaze shifted and I followed her eyes. The college kid had slipped away from Toughie and was careening around the stage. Delilah was smiling, a hint of admiration in her eyes. Toughie and Delilah? For half a second my heart stopped. I checked Delilah’s eyes again — sure, admiration and friendship, but nothing more. I almost smiled, but then I remembered Royal Rob still wanted Delilah with him, and me sleeping with the scorpions. Delilah’s gaze shifted from Toughie to me. She was waiting for an answer.
“Me clueless? I don’t know. My parents liked our Rottweiler more than me. I think it damaged me as a child.”
“You’re blaming your faults on the family dog?”
“Well, it was a smart dog, I have to admit.”
“Joey, blaming your personality on a Rottweiler is like blaming global warming on a cow farting in Saskatchewan.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard methane can be problematic.”
She tilted her head, eyebrows raised.
“Look, Delilah, the fact is, I just couldn’t take you back to Royal Rob. You’re right, he is a pig. Plus, and this is the honest to God truth, you’ve got a great voice. I can make you a star.”
“You have a plan, is that it?”
“Of course I do. One Saturday night, one gig. You’ll see.”
“With a real band?”
“I got it covered. I promise,” I said. Okay, so I had it covered like a fig leaf has one of those Roman statues covered, but what was I going to say?
“And you really want me to believe that a one-night gig is going to make me a star?”
“Like Sinatra said, the longest journey begins with a single step.”
“That was Mao, not Sinatra.”
“Hey, Chairman of the Board, Chairman of China, what’s the difference? They were both big successes.”
The edges of her mouth curled and I thought she was going to smile. That’s when Toughie pulled out a chair and sat along side Delilah. She glanced at the table of geeks. I looked. The one who had been heading for Rex the Wonder Dog was sprawled among the glasses of beer, like an upside down cockroach.
“A friend just called. The Dwarfmobile is on its way. We gotta go,” Toughie said. She shot Delilah a look. “You coming with the Door Stop or staying?”
“Door Stop?” she said.
“Door Stop, Spare Parts, Joey, call him whatever you want, but if we’re going, we gotta get a move on.”
Delilah turned to me. “You really think I sound like Billy Holiday and Etta James?” she said, that girlish hopeful pitch back in her voice.
“With a little Janice Joplin around the edge.”
She looked into my eyes, then nodded. “All right, Spare Parts.”
I stood up and took Delilah’s hand. “Let’s blow this pop stand,” I said and we headed for the door.
Chapter 43
“Where we headed?” I asked Toughie.
We were packed in the back of the Continental, the River Queen fading into the distance, paddle wheeler and all. Jimmy and James were up front while Toughie and I were anchoring the corners of the backseat with Delilah between us. Delilah had her legs curled under her. The bottoms of her feet were pressed against my thigh, and she was leaning against Toughie.
Toughie shifted, giving Delilah a little more room, and glanced at me. “We’re going somewhere Royal Rob will never look for us,” Toughie said.
“We’re going to Schenectady?”
“Schenectady?” Delilah said and kicked me. She started to say something more, but I held up my hand and turned to check out a vehicle that shot past us heading in the direction of the River Queen – the Dwarfmobile.
“It’s Shaq,” I said as the brake lights of the microbus lit up. “He spotted us. Looks like they’re turning around. Step on it.”
James hit the gas and we began to gain speed. But true to its Detroit roots, the sedan was more St. Bernard than Greyhound, and it just seemed to lumber down the highway at a faster pace, like a cast iron bathtub on wheels heading downhill �
�� sure it picks up speed as it goes, but in the end, there’s only so much gravity can do.
Toughie glanced out the rear window and turned back. “Looks like we’ve lost them for awhile, but they’ll now know that Delilah is with us. We’re going to have to split up.”
Delilah sat up and put her feet on the floor. “Can’t we just drive back to L.A.?”
Toughie shook her head and turned toward the front seat. “Jimmy, James, you want to explain?”
“We won’t get through …” Jimmy said.
“Las Vegas. Royal Rob …” James said.
“Has the town wired. They’ll spot us,” Jimmy said.
Great, I thought. We’re might as well be waddling through Bosnia in a Winnebago.
“Drop us off at the motel,” Toughie said. “I’ll look after Spare Parts and Delilah. Ditch the car and meet up with us.”
I looked across Delilah to Toughie. “Somewhere Royal Rob will never look for us?”
“Exactly,” Toughie said.
I couldn’t see very well in the back of the car, but I thought I saw Toughie smile. I leaned back and stared straight ahead past the Roo brothers and through the windshield. Then it hit me. I felt like a guy whose his girl friend just told him she only has a mild case of the bubonic plague. You can be really glad it’s not worse, but there’s absolutely no way its good news.
“We’re going to the Alcatraz, aren’t we?” I said.
“He’ll never look for us there,” Toughie said.
“Well,” Delilah replied, “this should be interesting.”
Interesting? Isn’t that what they said about the Charge of the Light Brigade?
Chapter 44
Toughie glanced down the hallway past the room service carts and nodded to Bennie the guy who’d sneaked us in through the employee entrance. A few stories below, the Royal Alcatraz’s casino was probably going full tilt, but up here in the hotel it was quiet as a graveyard.
Bennie handed Toughie a room key. Toughie opened the door and held it for Delilah. I followed Delilah inside and Toughie stepped back into the hallway to speak with Bennie.