Read Femme Noir Online

Authors: Clara Nipper

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Mystery & Detective, #Contemporary, #Women Sleuths, #Lesbian, #Gay & Lesbian, #(v5.0)

Femme Noir (5 page)

BOOK: Femme Noir
7.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“That is ironic. That’s so ironic, it borders on metaphor,” Jack quipped.

Jhoaeneyie laughed again, causing several couples nearby to move away uneasily. “Touché.”

“Now look at that.” Jack gestured to a man across the bar. “Men should never wear pinkie rings. That’s just obscene.”

I looked over at the man in question. “Oh, that’s just the beginning of his problems.”

Laughter burbled out of Jack and we clicked drinks.

“Say, Idgie—” I began.

“Jhoaeneyie.”

“Jhoaeneyie then,” I said, “Do you know what all this cloak-and-dagger Michelle stuff is about?”

“Well, you see,” Jhoaeneyie trumpeted. “I did know Michelle. She came to me as a patient.
I know all about her.
I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you anything.” Jhoaeneyie touched the side of her nose. “Client confidentiality, you know.”

“But I don’t want to know—”

“Sorry.” Jhoaeneyie winked. “Can’t help you.”

“All I’m asking is why am I—”

“That’s enough.” Jhoaeneyie shrugged. “I’ve drawn a boundary. You must respect that.”

I blinked. “Uh-huh.” I lit a cigarette to burn disgust out of my mouth.

Jhoaeneyie put both of her thumbs into her nostrils simultaneously and dug around for a few seconds before removing them and wiping whatever she found on her pants.

“Idgie’s famous double dip,” Jack murmured. I coughed on a swallow of beer. Darcy and Ava-Suzanne were on the dance floor jerking stiffly like spastics.

“I have spot-on intuition,” Jhoaeneyie said. “I can see into people right away.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m a complicated lady.”

“She’s a complicated lady,” Jack echoed.

I looked her up and down. “Nothing is complicated.”

“Oh, you’re a black-and-white type,” Jhoaeneyie said, then embarrassed, added, “No offense.”

“No sweat,” I said.

“Good.” Jhoaeneyie laughed. “Glad you’re not uptight about that stuff. You know what I mean? Glad you’re laissez-faire.” She pronounced it “less-sez fair.”

“And?”

“Well, FYI, Darcy and Ava-Suzanne are real super ladies. They’re something special.”

“Oh, I can see that,” I said. Jack sipped his shot.

“So, I just want you to be careful.” Jhoaeneyie double-dipped again.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to get off on the wrong foot in a new town. See, I’m an encourager. I see what people are about and I encourage them in the proper direction. Know what I mean?”

“No clue.”

Jhoaeneyie laughed and laughed at that, scaring several passersby. “You…” Jhoaeneyie gasped. “You are amazing. You’re hilarious. I knew we’d hit it off.”

“I’ve got to go change,” Jack announced, standing up. “Save my seat, will ya, precious?”

“Wait! Don’t leave me.” I clutched his arm.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t you worry.”

“Why do you have to change? You look fine,” I persisted.

Jack looked down at himself. “I cannot
hope
to meet anyone as superfine as I am in this raggedy, wilted shirt. This tragic outfit is
so
eight o’clock. And just look at me!” Jack admired himself in the mirror behind the bar. “I am a mess.” He grinned seductively.

“Come right back,” I commanded.

“Of course, bobbin. My other shirt is in my car. You smoke as much as you need.” He left.

I glanced at Jhoaeneyie, who double-dipped, her eyes twinkling. Darcy and Ava-Suzanne were headed back to the bar to sit.

“I’m a witch,” Jhoaeneyie said, trembling with excitement as if presenting me with a gift. “Yep, Jhoaeneyie’s a witch,” she repeated, grinning. More patrons glared at the foghorn voice.

“Is that right?” I stirred the bowl of peanuts.

“Doesn’t that shock you?”

“Not particularly.” I shrugged and tossed a few nuts into my mouth, which made me thirsty enough to finish my beer. The bartender replaced the beer with a new, frosted one.

“I really am,” Jhoaeneyie added. “Although my daughter, Journey, isn’t sure she wants a pagan life, I’ve encouraged her to make her own choices.”

“Because you’re the encourager.” I laughed. “That’s beautiful.” I smiled so hard it hurt. “Journey, huh?”

“Yes, you’d love her.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, you would, I’m serious.” Double-dip. “She’s exceptional, you know what I mean?”

“Darcy. Ava-Suzanne. How’s it going?” I clapped Darcy on the back.

“I’m exhausted.” Darcy sighed with a smile. “I don’t know how I do it. I really don’t. With everything I do, I should be dead.”

I said nothing.

“You’re amazing,” Jhoaeneyie said.

“You’re a goddess,” Ava-Suzanne added.

Darcy put a hand on her left breast and addressed me. “There’s a lot going on in here, you know what I’m saying?”

I sank onto my bar stool and hugged my beer.

“Between my job,” Darcy continued, counting off on her fingers, “and supporting Ava-Suzanne, and my spiritual work and my art and then helping this one”—Darcy gestured to Jhoaeneyie—“with her music…I am done in. See, I’m real visual. That’s my medium. So music is more of a challenge.”

“A guitar is a moody mistress, you know what I mean?” Jhoaeneyie said. “See, I’m not like that. I flunk all simple stuff. Tying shoes, flushing the toilet. Give me something intricate and difficult. That’s my métier.” She pronounced it “may-teer.”

“Jack!” I shouted, seeing him come inside again. “Jack’s back.” I noted, with a little envy, how fresh and crisp he looked. I vowed to copy his changing clothes idea.

Jack grinned and sat. Everyone drank in silence for a few moments.

“Darcy’s done time,” Jack murmured in her ear. “Funny, huh?”

Interested, I turned back to Darcy and said, “Jack just told me you’ve done time. Is that true?” I wondered if that had served Darcy’s artistic purpose.

Fake modesty made Darcy smile archly and say yes.

“What for?”

“Forgery.”

I turned back to the bar and said to my beer, “Forgery’s a woman’s crime.”

“What?” Darcy heard me but seemed stunned. “Ava-Suzanne, my lover, has played in Europe. We’ll probably go back there soon.” Darcy sniffed. “Better class of people.”

“Is that so?” I asked Ava-Suzanne, whose nostrils curved into a snarl.

“Oh, Darcy, please don’t brag on me. You know I hate being an ornament. I have issues with being shown off,” Ava-Suzanne said, simpering.

I dared to put my hand reassuringly on Ava-Suzanne’s cold forearm. “Don’t worry about it. Really.”

The infidel voice of Jack slipped into my ear again. “She was third chair in Bumfuck, Arkansas, or some such mishbegotten place.”

I smothered my laughter by draining my beer. I hadn’t planned to drink so fast, but I had no other way of keeping a straight face. Plenty of time later to laugh out loud. I needed a cigarette badly.

“So, Ava-Suzanne, where have you played?” I asked.

“Oh,” Ava-Suzanne replied airily, “Europe, various places in the U.S. In different orchestras.”

“Do you play here?” I didn’t even know if Tulsa had an orchestra.

“No, she can’t anymore,” Darcy interrupted. “She has a serious energy blockage in her right hand. We’re getting alternative medicine to treat it, but until then, it’s agony for her to play.”

“You see,” Jhoaeneyie began, “emotions are connected to the body. I’ve seen it. Ava-Suzanne is gifted, but her obstacles from trauma forbid her playing.”

“Bullshit,” Jack cooed tipsily into my ear.

“Have you been to a doctor?” I asked.

“Yes, but they say I’m fine,” Ava-Suzanne answered haughtily, shaking out her right hand for emphasis as if it hurt to even talk about it.

“Allopathic medicine is worthless. That’s why we’re going to the womyn’s holistic natural healing clinic and have Qiu Qu with Cinnamon Moonbear. She’s the best. I’m learning her trade so that I can do it.”

“Ladyfair Moonbear is
amazing
!” Jhoaeneyie interjected.

“Cho Choo?” I asked.

“Yes.” Darcy warmed to her subject. “It’s a process of clearing nasty, thorny storages of pain.”

“Ask how.” Jack giggled.

“How?” I asked.

Darcy sat up straighter, clearly loving her own voice. “A qualified practitioner immerses Ava-Suzanne into specially supercharged ionized clear fluid…You know what that is?” Darcy asked smugly.

“Expensive water,” Jack whispered.

“And Ava-Suzanne remains there for a specified amount of time depending on what you’re clearing and how deeply.” Darcy smiled. “After which she is released and the first big breaths afterward are vital to the healing. That is what moves the blockages, those first powerful gasps.”

“You are shitting me,” I said.

“No, why would I? The results are well documented with research and case histories on their Web site. And I’ve seen it work wonders for Ava-Suzanne.”

“Yeah, the Chappadick treatment by inches,” Jack whispered in a slur. “I say, heal her all at once.” Jack and I clinked drinks again.

“Plus, I was a mess before I did it. It made me a whole new person,” Darcy added.

I waited to see if Jack had anything to say about this. He didn’t. He was smoking, though, and in glee, I took one and lit up, flicking one wooden match of my perpetual pocket collection with my thumbnail.

“Oh, baby, that’s cool,” Jack said. I grinned and set several more matches on the bar in case I needed them.

I pulled on the cigarette in ecstasy. Oh, God, the sweet, hot dryness that caressed me deep inside where no woman could get. I held the smoke inside, nestled in every crevice for over a full minute. I kissed the cigarette as I wrapped my lips around it for another long drag. I could keep a straight face now, no matter what Darcy and Ava-Suzanne said. Paradoxically, my career as a jock and a coach kept me in such great shape that I was a better smoker, try though I might to quit annually. With a smile, Jack watched me smoke and offered me a sip of his shot. I took one and followed it with a long drink of beer. God, I loved things on my lips and in my mouth. Cigarettes, suckers, bottles, pens, pencils, straws, toothpicks, women. I offered my beer to Jack, who drank happily. Darcy and Ava-Suzanne were staring in distaste. I hadn’t noticed before, but under the calming influence of tobacco, I saw that Darcy was nervous and fidgety. Her lips were raw from continual licking, and her cuticles were bloody shreds. I wanted this over.

Darcy was pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What’s the matter, kitten?” Ava-Suzanne crooned.

“Just a second.” Darcy pressed her temples. “I have a headache, but I’m not a headache person. There.” Darcy smiled with all her teeth as if she had done a trick. “All gone. With all I do,” she began, Ava-Suzanne and Jhoaeneyie nodding sympathetically, “all my tension goes right to my neck and shoulders. That’s where all my tension goes. Right there. I carry a load of stress because of my multitasking.”

“Right now, she’s cleaning her oven,” Jack muttered.

“I need to find a good massage therapist. One who will take my special requirements into consideration. And work with me on many levels and simultaneous therapies. One who is exceptional because I like it deep. But till then,” Darcy smiled wistfully, “sometimes I get a little headache and I have to treat and heal myself. Thank God for me, huh?” All three laughed and raised their glasses. I had to shut my mouth, for it had fallen open. Jack winked at me.

“I’m hungry. Where can we go for a bite?” I asked, knowing it would end the interview.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Ava-Suzanne said prissily.

“Of course you are,” I said. “I didn’t fight my way to the top of the food chain to be a rabbit. But you might know where is a good restaurant for all of us. Do you eat milk, eggs, and cheese?”

“Yes.”

On a hunch, I asked, “You eat fish and chicken too, don’t you?”

“Yes, but not every day.” Ava-Suzanne pursed her lips and patted her short, messy, dishwater hair.

“Mostly, I cook for her. I’m a great cook. Chicken, fish, whatever, I can do it. We should have you over some time. We’re both vegetarians, but it would be delicious. And fun.” Darcy seemed sincere. I rolled my eyes in disgust. I knew animal rights activists and true vegetarians and militant vegans and vegetarian chefs. In Los Angeles it was very common. And
nobody
there had the temerity to admit she ate meat while claiming to be vegetarian. Even I knew fish and chicken were meat. Hell, milk was just liquid meat. Around the college where I coached, the vegetarian places were on every corner. What was uncommon, however, was a femme who would mix a stiff drink and eat a slab of meat. But I understood Darcy. Some people were poseurs and didn’t know it. What’s more, they didn’t want to know it.

“Sure, let’s do that some time. Suppose you tell me what you know about Michelle?”

“Let’s rock and roll!” Jhoaeneyie exclaimed.

BOOK: Femme Noir
7.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Tear (A Seaside Novel) by Rachel Van Dyken
Shattered Circle by Linda Robertson
Love at the 20-Yard Line by Shanna Hatfield
Stand-Off by Andrew Smith
Ellie's Advice (sweet romance) by Roelke, Alice M.
Mother of Eden by Chris Beckett
Saint Jack by Paul Theroux