How the Hula Girl Sings (13 page)

Then a strange thing took place.

The snow-cone machine blew its silvery metal lid and shot right out from under its white tent and headed straight up into the sky like a kind of rocket ship, crashing into a bright white spotlight and smashing the fixture with a tremendous clatter that made the whole fair suddenly dull and still. Then it all rained down like a quiet little flight of snow and tiny bits of glass and ice, shimmering in the lights cast down by the Ferris wheel that kept spinning around, right past the bingo caller’s noise, down into the Corn Queen’s lovely red hair, where it sparkled like a single veil of fallen stars in place. It was beautiful. It was one of the most amazing things I’d ever seen. This girl just kept smiling and waving, blowing kisses everywhere as the night and the stars seemed to blossom up right in her thick red hair.

“She’s beautiful.” Junior smiled. “This town isn’t half as bad as you said.”

“I guess.” I frowned. Junior passed me some more cotton candy and I swallowed it down and looked up into the stars right at the tip of that Ferris wheel. “I wish Charlene was here.”

“Taking this awful hard, Luce. I thought you didn’t like the idea of settling on down with just one girl yet.”

“What the hell do I know? I mean, I keep thinking, what if she’s the one for me?”

Junior shrugged his shoulders, then leaned in close with a big wide smile.

“Why don’t you go and ask her for yourself?”

He gave a little nod and I followed his line of sight across the fairgrounds.

Charlene, all done up in a nice white blouse and a blue skirt that ruffled between her long white legs.

“What the hell should I do?” I mumbled.

“Go on off with her.” Junior grinned.

“What about you? I ain’t gonna leave you here by yourself.” “I’ve gotta open tomorrow anyways. You’ve been talking about her all night. Go on now and don’t screw it up by being stubborn.” He patted me on the back and gave a big smile as I took off.

I met Charlene right by the broken snow-cone machine. She gave a little smile then a frown when she caught sight of me.

“Didn’t think you were planning on coming tonight,” she said.

“Thought I might meet some girl who didn’t have such a crazy old man.”

“Well, good luck.” She frowned and began to walk away.

“Wait a minute,” I mumbled, grabbing for her hand.

“Just wait a second. I was just kidding is all.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were looking to meet some other girl. I can’t change the way my daddy is. It’s lucky he didn’t try to strangle you.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “So you think your old man’s right, huh? You think you’re a little too good for me?”

“No.” She frowned. “But you seem to.”

She was right. She had showed up at the fair, knowing I would be there waiting to see her.

“Do you wanna go on a ride or something?” I asked.

“With you? In front of the whole town? What would everyone say?” She smiled.

“I couldn’t give a damn.”

“It’s about time.”

Charlene and I walked over to the shiny silver-and-white Ferris wheel and got right in line. This carnie with a red beard and a black patch over his eye took our tickets and locked us in place tight and threw the switch and sent us spinning up and around together right under that dull blue night.

Charlene moved closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. It made me feel weak as hell, spinning around like that, smelling her hair. Then she slipped her tiny hand into mine and held on. Everything was perfect.

Charlene lifted her head a little and looked me in the eyes and gave a little frown. “How long do you plan on staying, Luce?”

“What’s that?” I asked, still holding her hand tight as I could.

“How long do you plan on staying in town? Until your parole is served? Until you save up enough money to move out?” The silver-and-white lights flashed on by. Then big-brown-eyed Charlene looked away. “Until you’re bored with me?”

I held her hand tight in my hand and shook my head. “Why are you talking like that now? What brought this all on?”

“You know what brought this on. My daddy and you arguing. I just want to be sure he isn’t right.”

“Isn’t right? What do you mean?” I let go of her hand and shook my head.

“I mean, what are your plans? Do you want to work at that gas station forever? Do you want to stay in this measly town the rest of your life? What do you want to do with yourself?”

“I dunno.” I frowned. “Maybe pick up a trade. I can fix some cars now, I guess. I could get a trucking license maybe. I really don’t know. I never even thought about it until now. I was just happy sitting here holding your hand.”

“Dammit, Luce, that’s what I mean. You just don’t seem to care. You don’t seem to want the things I want at all.”

“Like what, Charlene?”

“Well, I want to get out of this town for sure. Maybe go out West and go to beauty school and learn to do makeup for movie stars. But I know I’m getting out. I know one day I’ll be married and have some kids and a nice little house and be settled down somewhere else, somewhere far away from here.”

“Why do you hate this place so much?” I asked. “What did ol’ La Harpie ever do to you?”

“Nothing.” She frowned. “That’s exactly the problem. You can’t step outside your own house without hearing your neighbors talk about a rumor one of them heard about you. That’s why I hate this town. Look at them. Look at them right now, all watching us.”

I peered down from the Ferris wheel and gave a smug little grin. Charlene was right. Every busybody in town was watching the lowly ex-con and the daughter of the Used Car King holding hands and sitting close. All their dull eyes flickering along our skin, hoping to see us make some foul unrepentant mistake.

“Take your hand and put it on my heart,” Charlene whispered. The soft timbre of her voice nearly made me blush. I nodded and placed my palm along her soft white blouse.

“Now kiss me,” Charlene said, nodding with a grin.

“What?” I mumbled. “Right here?”

“Right here.”

I nodded and gave her the kiss of my life. The Ferris wheel spun on down and around and the carnie with the red beard and eyepatch let us out and we walked right out of that fair, holding hands and laughing at the way everyone seemed to stare at us. We hopped in Charlene’s car and drove away and then parked down the street from her house a little ways and began kissing and petting and getting sweaty in her backseat, mumbling to each other and still giggling like kids all right.

Afterwards, Charlene tendered a gentle kiss upon my lips, then turned and walked up to her house.

I thought for a minute that I was still back in the pen and this was all a kind of dream, but then I knew it was true.

strange customer

This place where I worked could be as strange and unpredictable as a night out kissing Charlene. Most of the time it was pretty dull and quiet. People usually just came in and filled their cars up and paid for their gas. But other times that gas station might be lurid and mean.

It all started with a bird.

I had been involved with a big 350-cid V-8 engine in a most personal way. Those sweet silver cylinders had me pulled in right down to their fiery pistons locked in place on a glossy magazine page.

Then a black bird hit the front glass window. It knocked me right out of my daydreaming during the middle part of my shift.

BOOM!!!

I snapped right awake.

The bird hit the glass and disappeared, dropping down into the dirt. It was one of those big black crows that ate all the dead things that drifted along the side of the road, this big black crow just plowed straight into the front glass window there and snapped its feathery neck and fluttered and twitched in place,
caw-caw-cawing
and hissing where it had bounced off the shiny glass. Then it landed and became silent and still in the dusty gray dirt.

There was no mark that it had smacked the glass except for a single spot where the damn thing’s beak had hit. I looked out the window and stared at the spot and caught a glimpse of

Junior’s sign all in the same wink.

Fuel-line cleaner

on special

do shine

here thru

munificent dirt

I hopped from behind the counter and stepped outside. There it was, all puffed up and broken and bent, with its thick black wings fluttering and trembling in place, pounding its head against the dusty gravel as a line of blood dripped from its open beak.

CAW-CAW-CAW!!!
it howled, pounding its thick little head against the ground.
CAW-CAW-CAW!!!
Its wings twisted up together one last time, in a kind of mockery of flight, then it fell still and collapsed on its side, breathing heavily, then lightly, then not at all.

I took all this to be a bad sign, and once I was sure it was dead and the first fly had landed upon the bird’s open eye, I picked it up by its one broken wing and dropped it out back in the trash, gritting my teeth. I went back inside and washed my hands and stared at the shiny spot on the window.

A prostitute came in like a bad dream. It was the woman I had paid to make it with the first night I spent in town. She looked skinny and long and steady, and stunk of a desperate kind of perfume.

Then there was this sound. This sound she kept making. It rose right from her chest, a jerking kind of sound, like one of the valves of her heart was loose. It was the sound of something running on down. Trapped. Her heart gave another little start as she spoke and asked for a pack of smokes, leaning against the counter with a sigh and a low broken cough. She looked sick. She made me sorry for all the things I had ever dreamt or done to any girl I had ever known.

“Pack of Reds, Johnny,” she murmured, letting all the jewelry and bracelets and bangles along her long thin arm dangle as she leaned against the counter.

I pulled the pack of smokes from the cigarette stock and placed it on the counter with a little smile.

She smiled back. “Hey, I know you, don’t I, cream puff? I mean, you and I hit the hay once or twice, eh?”

Her cold blue eyes circled around inside her head as she tried to stare at me straight.

“Just once,” I nodded, looking down at my hands. My face felt red all of a sudden and hot as hell. This girl looked bad. She looked old and tired and sick and torn apart by the things she had seen and done to herself.

“Was I worth your while?” she asked, giving a little smile.

“Sure.” I tried to grin. “Everything was fine. It was nice all right. You’re … very nice.”

“Feel like having another nice time?” she murmured without any kind of sincerity.

“Not today.” I frowned. “But thanks for asking.”

“Thanks for asking?
What do you think it is I’m giving away? Tickets to the parade?” She smiled again, making the jerking sound in her chest rise.
Thump-thump—thump-thump
, it muttered, tightening in place. “I got everything you want right here.”

She leaned in close and made a little kissing movement with her worn-out lips. “I just need some money is all. I’m not asking for any handout, I’m willing to give you what you want and all.”

“Here, listen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying not to stare at her worn-out face.

“Tallulah.” She frowned.

“It’s a pretty name.” I smiled. “It’s a very pretty name.” I dug into the back of my pants and took out my wallet and placed twenty bucks in Tallulah’s hand. “Why don’t you take this and get out of town? Why don’t you take this and get on out and don’t ever look back?”

Tallulah smiled and shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s not like that at all. This is all my fault. This is all my own fault.”

I stared at this girl, unable to speak.

Tallulah dropped some change and a dollar bill on the counter and placed the pack of cigarettes next to her heart.

“Don’t go on thinking you ruined me,” she whispered. “I did all these things myself. I did all these things without anyone else’s help.”

This lady turned and walked out of the store slowly, wobbling a little as one of her red high heels gave. She strode out through the glass doors, trying to light a cigarette and mutter to herself at the same time. It doesn’t always work. Your hands sometimes shake too hard. This lady must have been a pro at it though. She lit the square on her first try and tossed the match into the dust, then walked on off.

I put the lady’s change in the cash register and stared out those shiny glass windows some more.

BOOM.

Another bird hit the glass a few minutes later with a gentle kind of crash, more solemn and serious than the one before.

A little brown robin redbreast had slammed into the window, then fluttered on back, then slammed into the window again. The glass must have been too clean. It must have been too shiny and ended up reflecting the whole sky in its panes.

I left the little spattering of blood where it had drawn cold. This time I didn’t go on outside. I stood behind the counter where I was.

Some more customers came in, the dusk turned straight into night, dark and lonely and without a word or reply as I stared on out through those glass windows, sure that robin out there was lying in the dirt dead. I went up to the window and looked out and didn’t see it lying there. It was gone. It had flown away. I went outside and looked for it all withered up in a corner somewhere but I couldn’t find it. It was gone. I went back inside and thought about it all. I paged through some nudie magazines and helped myself to a pack of gum, and then, from out of the long, solemn, silent darkness of the night, two huge headlights burned on through and pulled up to the diesel pump, shining brightly along my eyes and face.

It was Guy Gladly. I saw his name written there in bright yellow letters along the side of his sturdy red rig. He left his truck idling and hopped on out and walked right through those double glass doors with a great big smile.

“Luce Lemay!” he shouted. “You doggone fool! How have you been, you doggone fool?!!”

He shook my hand hard with his big smile beaming, pushing back the nice black Stetson that sat atop his head. He had a square face and black mustache that curled up a little at its ends.