Free How the Hula Girl Sings by Joe Meno

all heavenly like that.”
    I knew it was her right away. That voice. That undeniable low honey-toned drawl. Dahlia spoke each word in a whisper designed to move any man she wanted inches closer. I don’t know if they teach that after you become the head cheerleader in a small town, but it was one of the many attributes that set Dahlia apart from the rest of the girls I had known. Dal had been born a woman and made every boy in her grade crazy until they were old enough to truly understand that an unsatiable belle breathed the same breath as them.
    Dahlia stepped right up to the counter and looked straight into my eyes with the biggest, sweetest smile I had ever seen her wear, except when I had asked her to our Junior Promenade, which was, of course, against my will.
    “Tell me now, what’s a body supposed to do when she finds her one true love’s back in town?”
    “Christ Jesus,” I murmured, staring at the way the light from all the windows burned through her white skirt and showed her fine lines. There were her tight blue panties hidden somewhere beneath. The same blue pair of panties had kept me to Dahlia’s side for all of my junior year at La Harpie High and had assuaged me through the Junior Promenade, which had eventually ended with her bare white hips beside mine in a parked car somewhere down her parents’ street.
    “Luce Lemay, God’s insufferable improvement for any of my wildest dreams.” Dal glimmered. “How come you don’t call me to get yourself off anymore?” Dal hadn’t changed in the three years I’d been away. I had called her a few times from the prison up in Pontiac during the first months, overcome with lust, dying to hear her voice dripping with dirty talk. I would call her up and then she’d say something like, “I have on only a wet white blouse,” then I’d nearly faint. Soon enough I found out all the lies she spun around me, and the whole sordid affair made me sick. No man needs a dishonest lover, imprisoned or not.
    “How have you been, sweet tart?” Dahlia whispered, leaning way over the counter. Her big white sweater hung way off her bare white shoulder and I could see the fabric of her blue brassiere strap poking out from beneath. “Tell me I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.”
    “That might not be a lie,” I mumbled.
    “Good enough for me.” She smiled. “How long has it been since you took me in the backseat of a car and made mad passionate love to me?”
    I shook my head and looked down at her nimble soft hands.
    “Dal, you’re wearing a wedding ring,” I mumbled. There right on her left ring finger was a huge diamond that sparkled nearly as bright as Dahlia’s blue eyes.
    “That’s right. I’m spoken for now.” She sighed. “Missed your one great chance.”
    “How’s that?” I asked.
    “You could have had me. Who knows what would have been?”
    “So who’s the lucky feller?” I asked.
    “Favor Muller. Damn near made an honest woman out of me.”
    “Well, that’s sweet. Captain of the football team and head cheerleader getting hitched.” Favor Muller was dumb as a rotten log. Much worse off, too. He ran the garbage dump at the end of town. Inherited his fine fortune from his old man. Poor Dal was now the Princess of the Trash Removal Kingdom of La Harpie, Illinois. It seemed like a just post.
    “Was only a matter of time before we got together, I guess.”
    Dal smiled. “I’d still let you take me in the back to show you what you missed.”
    “That’s awful sweet, Dal.”
    “Don’t know any other way, puddin’. So you’re working here now, huh?” Her eyes sparkled kind of emptily as she looked around. “You like it here?”
    “It’s not so bad. Clutch trusts me with the place by myself. Not too many men would do the same.”
    Dal blushed a little, then looked away. “So where are you living now? With a friend?”
    “I live at the hotel down the street.”
    “With that crazy old lady? Well, that isn’t right. A