Free The Garden of Last Days by Andre Dubus III Page A

please.” He shook his head. He nodded in the direction of Little Andy in the corner. Andy hardly ever got off his stool, but right now he was standing there watching the other floor hosts carry the man out of the club.
    “It’s all right. He sits there all the time. Have a seat.”
    “No.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a thick roll of bills. He held it low in front of him like it was the answer to some kind of question she didn’t need to ask. His eyes passed over her body—her breasts, belly, and hips. “Please, Champagne.”
    “The Champagne Room? You want to go to the Champagne?”
    He nodded and peeled five hundreds off his roll, pressing two into her hand. Five and a half months at the Puma and only once had she gotten a high roller who wanted to go to the Champagne. She’d be off rotation and could stay back there as long as he wanted. Two hundred to her for just that one hour.
    He was walking ahead of her with his cash toward Little Andy in his dark corner on his stool, and she had to follow him.
    But Franny. First she had to go back. Check on her. He could wait five minutes, couldn’t he?
    But he was handing the three hundred to Little Andy, who stood and held open the black velvet curtain, looking at her, waiting for her. The foreigner, too; he stood there looking eager, his head cocked to the side, his eyes two dark holes. He’d pick another, she knew that. Now was the time he wanted, and if she turned and walked away and made him wait, he’d want his money back to give to Retro or Wendy or Marianne, so she had to, her body already taking her there, her nightsmile too, Franny back behind the narrow walls in Tina’s office. It would only be for an hour anyway.
    April stepped by the waiting foreigner and Little Andy. He smelled faintly like aftershave and bacon.
    “You’re gonna tell Tina I’m off rotation, right?”
    “Yep.” He let the heavy velvet drop behind her, the black-painted door in front of them, the red bulb above, her Champagne customer standing there with his intent eyes and fat roll of cash. She reached by him for the crystal knob and felt herself lift out of her body and back through the curtain to the bright dressing room and Tina’s TV-lit office, her daughter on the couch waiting for her. April there with her now. The two of them snuggled on a single cushion. Only Spring turning the knob and stepping into the Champagne now. Not April. Just Spring.

AT THE CORNER of the Amazon Bar, Lonnie pressed a dampened bar napkin to the base knuckle of his right middle finger. Dolphins Cap had gone down so easily, but under that thick beard he must have a snaggletooth or maybe his mouth had been open. Nobody touched the girls. Not out in the open anyway. And even the big spenders didn’t get to do what Dolphins Cap did. Lean over the stage and brush his folded dollar along what this new dancer was showing, other men shouting him along, a brushfire that had to be tamped. And when Lonnie got there, the new one, this young skinny redhead with big breasts, didn’t know she could dance away from that, and she just lay there spreading herself open. Dolphins Cap saying cunt . Something else and cunt . At the apron in the stage light in front of them all, Lonnie tapped the new girl’s ankle and shook his head. At first she didn’t seem to know what he wanted, Dolphins Cap standing there with his dollar. But then she took inLonnie’s Puma T-shirt, and her fake smile fell away and she sat up. Dolphins Cap stepped back, his eyes on Lonnie now. He was squinting hard at him and was half a foot taller and much heavier, but it was the hollering customers behind him Lonnie needed to show something. One of them motioned with his arm for Lonnie to move out of the way.
    Lonnie pointed at Dolphins Cap’s chest, then the door. He mouthed the word go , saw the wedge of pink light as the front curtain parted and Larry T came walking. Scaggs, too.
    “Go.”
    Dolphins Cap looked back down at