Summer Wind

Nine

They had funny nicknames and were twice our age. Everyone in Angelo’s seemed to know them. They were dressed to the nines, shiny suits, shiny shoes and shiny hair combed straight back from their shiny foreheads. They both wore jewelry; big rings on their little fingers and a gold chain or two around their necks. I saw them as big dumb dogs, panting after us, harmless, thick Guidos with money who wanted to have dinner with two nice girls. I couldn’t keep straight which one was which; one was named Petey, the other Frank. There were two of them and two of us, but it wasn’t like we were two couples, just four people out to dinner. At least that’s the way it was at first.

We were ordering up a storm, a table full of appetizers, fried calamari, antipasto, and then a pasta dish for each of us. The guys asked for an order of chicken parmesan, an order of veal scaloppini, an order of shrimp scampi which we all shared. We washed everything down with Angelo’s own house wine, a thick, strong red. I hadn’t done any speed that day, not even diet pills, and had actually slept almost a full night on the couch at Larry and Dee’s, waiting for Larry to get home from work. I smoked a joint with Dee when he got home from day shift, as I was waiting for Larry to wake up. The pot and now the wine, along with the food, were sending me into what felt like a coma, my body was unused to having so much food all at once. At one point I had to stop and take a break, I thought I might throw it all up.

Donna was saying that she had to use the little girls’ room, and obediently I got up and followed her.

“These guys are so nice, which one is which again?” I giggled to Donna when we were in the ladies room.

“Yeah, they’re real nice allright. Petey is the one that seems to like you. Look, you know who these guys are, right?” She was looking at me funny; I had never seen this look on her face before.

“They’re gambler-guys, right?” I was unsteady on my feet, and had just almost knocked my head on the sink while flipping and fluffing my hair. It was getting harder and harder to get words out so they sounded the way they were supposed to. Everything seemed to be mushing together in my head. I wasn’t used to drinking without having some kind of stimulant to counteract it.

“Well, yeah, they’re here to gamble, but they’re also here to do some other business, you know? So they’re friends of Vince and Ronnie, and Phil, but they are also those guys’ bosses. Get it?”

“They’re Ronnie’s boss, got it. What’s the big deal?” I was smearing lipstick around my mouth. Donna handed me a paper towel and motioned toward where I’d missed and gotten a smudge on my cheek.

“The big deal is, is that where Ronnie and Vince and Philly were happy to have us and a few other girls around them in a night club or in a casino, these guys may want a bit more, how shall I say this, commitment? She looked up toward the ceiling as she pulled a tiny brush out of her back and tugged it through her hair a few times. “But it’s like a business deal. A trade off, ok?  You can’t think of it in any other way. Do you get it?”

“Yes, I get it.”

 I didn’t.

“Can we just go back out now? I need some coffee or something.”

When we got back to the table Petey and Frank had ordered espresso and sambuca. Petey was leaning closer to me, asking me if I had ever had Sambuca before. It smelled licorice-y and sweet, and in each tiny glass there was a coffee bean, and a small saucer with a handful of beans on the table. “What do I do with this?” I had reached into my drink and pulled out the coffee bean, giggling.  “It looks like a rabbit turd.” Petey moved his chair closer to mine, and took the bean from my sticky fingers, then stuck my fingers into his mouth and licked them off; his tongue was hot and moved around my fingers like a snake. I jumped, surprised at the sudden intimacy, and pulled my fingers out of his mouth, wiping them on my napkin.

He was saying, “You are supposed to crunch it, then down the sambuca while it is still in your mouth. Like this.” He popped it in his mouth, and bit down, then leaned toward me and opened his mouth, showing me the pieces on his tongue. His face was so close to mine I could see all the little clogged pores on his nose. Then he took the shot of sambuca and threw it back, chewing up the rest of the bean. He was looking into my face like he was trying to recognize something about me, like maybe he thought he knew me from before or something. “Now you try it.”

I picked up a bean from the saucer and chomped down on it, then raised the glass up and tilted it, spilling the thick liquor into my mouth. I swallowed the pieces of the bean in my mouth without chewing them, I was so used to taking pills dry I could probably swallowed a golf ball without washing it down.

“Let’s see if she got it all!” Petey grabbed my chin and pulled my bottom lip down with his thumb, smearing my lipstick again. Petey leaned in like he was going to look down my throat, said, “here I better see for sure,” and covered my mouth with his, his tongue working its way around my entire mouth. I tried to pull away but he had my chin in his hand and his other arm had slipped around my shoulders. “She took it all, allright!” He and Frank were laughing, and Petey’s arm was around me, I looked over at Donna and she was leaning against Frank, he had his arm draped around the back of her chair. She had that Mona Lisa smile on her face again.

My head was heavy and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. It must have been late; I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, the restaurant was almost empty. The waiters bustled around us, cleaning up empty wine glasses, taking away the espresso cups, sweeping away crumbs, offering to pour more Sambuca. There was a huge red wine stain on the table cloth, had I done that? I was resting my chin on my hands, leaning forward with my elbows on the table, trying to wipe out the feeling of his hand on my face, and also trying to avoid his touch. He had his arm around the back of my chair now, a possessive gesture, and with the other hand was signaling for the check.

The waiter put the check down on the table and backed away. Petey looked at the check and pulled out a roll of bills, peeling off about five, I couldn’t see what denomination, and threw them on top of the check. I looked over at Donna and Frank, her chair was turned to the side, almost facing his. He had one hand on the armrest of her chair, the other was holding her hand, he seemed to be admiring her fingernails; they were long and painted bright red. She was laughing, saying something in a low voice, then put her leg up and pulled her bare foot out of her shoe and put it in his lap. Her silky skirt gathered in a pool in the space between her legs. Petey leaned toward me again, putting his hand in the small of my back, “Maybe we should leave these two alone, huh?”

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere right now. I don’t feel good. Donna, Donna,  will you come to the bathroom with me?” I was pleading across the table.

“She don’t hear you, she’s busy,” Petey laughed, then came in close and blew in my ear.

“Uck!” I fluttered my hand toward my ear, one of my fingers caught in my earring. “Petey, I have a boyfriend.” I slurred into his face.

“Not tonight, you don’t,” he hissed back at me. His hand on my back pulled me into him, and with his other hand he grabbed both my legs and pulled me onto his lap.

I shoved at his chest with both my hands, trying to laugh, I couldn’t believe he was serious. “Knock it off! Donna and I have to go.” I was weak with the drink, twisting away from him like a child having a tantrum, and my head was a block of ice: solid. My stomach was on fire, and the flames were crawling up my throat. I could taste the bile, or was it Sambuca? Petey’s tongue? I twisted free and lurched to my feet and stepped on Petey’s foot, twisting my ankle. “Donna.” She had her eyes closed, with that smile on her face again, and Frank was whispering something into her ear, curling a tendril of her hair around his finger. I had never seen her with a man like this before. How could she stand this old man’s hands on her? My skin where Petey had touched me felt like there were leaches on it, slimy and sucking.

“DONNA!” I screamed it, surprised at the sound of my own voice, and this time both she and Frank looked up at me. She had that same look I had seen on her face when we were at her father’s trailer. She was looking at me like she didn’t know whether to be embarrassed for me or because of me. “Kim, would you relax? Come to the bathroom with me.” She turned and said something to Frank as she stood up and they both laughed.

“I don’t have to go to the bathroom, I want to go. Out of here. Let’s ditch them and go to the Chez.” The look on Donna’s face said that I wasn’t whispering, but I didn’t care. “Please lets go.” Tears had formed in my eyes, and were spilling over, my mascara glomming together, black rivulets starting down my cheeks. I tried to swipe my bag off the back of the chair, but Petey’s hands were pulling me back down.

“Sit down and relax for a second, Kim,” he was chuckling. What was so funny? “We’ll all go in a minute, just sit down here.” He tugged hard at my hips, trying to put me in the seat. Then he looked over at Donna, his head tilted to the side, and his hands up in a gesture of confusion and exasperation.

I heard Donna’s voice saying, “She’s never been like this, maybe she ate something that made her sick, the clams? Kimmy, are you sick?”

“Stop it!” I started slapping at Petey with both hands, flapping my hands in his face, head and chest, my teeth gnashing. “I’m not sick.” I was crying now, snot was bubbling out both nostrils, I was panting and my heart was pounding so hard I half expected it to jump up through my throat and out my mouth along with the bile. “What are you doing?” I was yelling at Donna. “What the hell are you doing?” I stumbled away from the table, flinging my tiny bag over my shoulder, and made for the door. I saw Donna out of the corner of my eye, she started after me, then Frank and Petey both stood up, Petey had his hands on his hips and looked pissed. Well, I didn’t care! I was pissed too, at him, and at Donna.

I threw myself out the door and staggered out into the street. The car we came in was parked right out front, a big silver grey Lincoln Continental, and the guy that had picked us up and driven us was leaning against it, smoking. He saw me come clattering out into the street, tossed the cigarette aside and stood up. I had broken the strap on my shoe when I stepped on Petey’s foot, and bent over to try to fix it, but my head swam with the effort and I pitched over on the sidewalk. I struggled to right myself; trying to act as though nothing unusual was happening. My shoe had come off when I fell and I focused all my feeble energy on it. Donna and Frank and Petey came out of the restaurant, and when I saw them I got dizzy all over again. I pushed both hands on the sidewalk to stand myself up, standing lopsided with one bare foot on the pavement. Petey walked over to me, and I looked past him to Donna and Frank standing over by the car. I thought I saw Frank lighting Donna’s cigarette, the two of them talking to the driver. Petey snatched the broken shoe out of my hand and hit me across the face with it, the heel smashing into my cheek, breaking the skin. I felt the blood start.

Petey was hissing at me through clenched teeth, calling me names. He kept hitting me with my shoe, the broken strap wagging and snapping in my face. I had my hands up over my face and head, and was trying to back away from him. Where was Donna? I tried to take my arms down for a second and look to see where she was, I thought I saw her standing between the car and where Petey and I were, her hands folded across her chest. Petey hauled his arm back and smacked me in the side of my head with the heel of the shoe. I fell backward, lost my balance and tottered off the sidewalk into the dirt at the side of the restaurant. Petey came over and kicked me, hard, in the stomach, saying “Maybe she ate something and it made her sick, huh?” He threw my shoe into the empty lot next to the restaurant and turned around and walked back to the car. I heard his shiny shoes tap-tapping on the pavement. I heard the doors slam, and the car start, then pull away. I lifted my head up, expecting to see Donna on the sidewalk, waiting to help me. I saw no one.

With no warning, the fire in my stomach came flooding out my mouth and nose. I coughed and gagged, tasted sambuca again. The lighted sign outside the restaurant flickered out. I didn’t know what to do, I stood up, my head was splitting, cracked ice, and I could only really see a little out of one eye. Had Donna gone back into the restaurant? I tried the door, it was locked, the lights inside were out. I put my hand up to my face, and even in the dark, I could see when I looked at my hand that it was covered with blood. I considered wiping it on my dress, then swiped it on the cement steps of the restaurant instead, mixing dirt with the blood. I fumbled in my bag for Kleenex, a piece of paper, something to wipe the blood off with. I had nothing in my bag but lipstick, cigarettes and a few dollars in cash. I lit a cigarette and hobbled down the street towards Atlantic Avenue. When I got under a street light, I bent down to look into the side view mirror of a parked car. The right side of my face was dark with blood coming from a two inch wound on my cheekbone. There was a flap of skin hanging there and I tried to push it back in place. My right eye was dark red and already starting to swell. There was blood stuck in my hair too, another cut there from where Petey had hit me with the shoe. I considered venturing into the lot next to Angelo’s to look for my shoe. Still, I didn’t think I looked that bad. I had only about three dollars with me, so my first thought was that I would take a jitney home. I thought I could cover up most of the damage with my hair on the right side. Petey must have been left handed.