Tiny Dancer Read online

  Taking Claudia along to spy on her father was my only alibi. I called Claudia right off, before I thought too long on it and backed out. When she answered, I said, “I know I told you that we should never go back to The Gentleman’s Pleasure, Claudia. I know this won’t make sense to you, but I’ve thought it over and I think we should go back. I want you to finally be at peace and this is the only way to rest assured that you have nothing to worry about.”

  Of course, I was not talking about Claudia but myself.

  * * * * *

  Drake could not under any circumstances cancel another date next weekend with Marcy. But I was relentless. He asked, “Why won’t tonight work?”

  “I’ll call you back,” I said.

  I talked it over with Claudia who said that her father had stayed out late Sundays too, working after hours both Friday, Saturday and, yes, even Sunday night the last few weeks. “Then it’s settled,” I said, relieved I would not have to twist Drake’s arm again. I called him right back.

  He said, “I’m so intrigued by the thought of you two virgins poking around a strip club late at night, I’m a little turned on.”

  “Shut up, Drake,” I said, hanging up.

  I gave Vesta the excuse that I was spending the night with Claudia who then cleared things with her mother asking if I could sleep over, telling me, “If your mother were to call mine for some reason, we’d both be in a mess.” To be sure, Claudia told Irene that the two of us were going to a late movie with friends. It was all over town West Side Story was being held over.

  I asked Drake to pick me up first.

  I knew Irene well enough to know she would be more at ease and less likely to check up on us if she trusted our driver. “Drake, it’s important you make a good impression on Mrs. Johnson.”

  “The woman whose husband is cheating on her?” he asked, pulling away from our drive.

  “If you say that to Claudia, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” I said, cuffing his ear.

  “I believe you would,” he said. “I thought Claudia was bossy. No wonder the two of you go at it.”

  “Did she say we go at it?” I asked, defensive.

  Drake backed off the subject. “I’m just assuming. Don’t tell her I said that, please.”

  I coached him on what to say to Irene. After all, he was the son of one of Dwight’s golfing buddies.

  Irene was nearly hanging out the door, welcoming me inside.

  I felt guilty over leaving her for the evening, and worse, lying to her. “Should we go?” I whispered to Claudia, but Irene overheard me and told me not to think of staying home.

  I had brought along my p.j.’s and some toiletries in an overnight bag. I ran my bag upstairs to Claudia’s room. Drake followed me through the front door her as reticent to meet Irene Johnson as he had been Vesta and Flynn when he picked me up. I believed it was because he was always sleeping with someone’s daughter so it caused him to hide from all parents.

  I stopped at the staircase to introduce him to Irene, saying, “This is Drake. He has his own car. He’s taking Claudia and me to the movies.”

  “You girls know I would love to drop you by the picture show,” said Irene.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Johnson,” said Drake, quick to jump in. “I’m going to the movie tonight too, you know meeting friends. I’ll keep an eye on the girls. You may know my father, Wyatt Keller.”

  “Of course. Your mother is Andrea. Yes, we see them at the club.”

  “Are we ready?” asked Claudia, not hiding her anxiousness all too well.

  “Claudia, isn’t he polite?” Irene gushed.

  Drake extended his hand to Irene. His expression was as innocent as I hoped it would be. He was such an actor. But when he got us into the car, he was mad all over again. He drove us in the opposite direction of Raleigh.

  “Where are we going?” asked Claudia. “Shouldn’t we head for the highway?”

  “I’ve got one more stop,” said Drake, acting cagey.

  Ignoring him, I engaged Claudia in a plan for what we would do when we pulled up to the club. It would be foolish to park as close as we did the first time, staring at everyone who passed by. I told her, “If your father did show up, and I’m not saying I think he will, he wouldn’t expect to see us. Maybe we should linger along the sidewalk, our backs to the parking lot and keep an eye out for anyone who walks past.”

  She liked the idea. She had already decided that if she found him there she would walk up to him and confront him.

  “That’s a bad idea,” said Drake.

  “You’re only the chauffer,” I said. “We don’t need your opinions.”

  “I don’t see how confronting Claudia’s dad out in front of a dance club will prove anything,” he said.

  “Of course it would,” said Claudia.

  “No, he’s right,” I said, hating to admit it. I thought ahead to the consequences. “He could just say he was dropping in for drinks. Not a good place to be, but nothing like being caught with a stripper.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” said Claudia, acquiescing to our warnings. “But that means we’ll be here all night waiting for my father to leave with a dancer.”

  “Drake, how long can you stay?” I asked conspiratorially. To my relief, he had no place else to go.

  “You two are the best entertainment in town,” he said, pulling into a neighborhood. He drove down the second street on the right. With no explanation, he honked his horn.

  “Why are we here?” I asked.

  “We can’t go into the exotic club district without back up,” he said, taking charge in a way that unsettled me.

  A large athletic looking youth lumbered out of the brick house. He flicked a cigarette into the street before climbing into the backseat next to Claudia.

  “Drake, I told you we can’t involve anyone else,” I said, irritated with him.

  “Who are you?” asked Claudia, as staggered as I was Drake would do such a thing without consulting us.

  “Ladies, this is Daryl. He’s my cousin,” Drake announced as if we would be pleased.

  “We don’t need another person involved,” I said, now fully rattled. Claudia would be humiliated if too many people knew she was spying on a cheating father.

  “If I’m driving, I’m making some of the decisions. We’re less conspicuous, for one thing,” said Drake. “We look like two couples out for some fun. And Daryl has a picture ID showing he’s over twenty-one. If we need someone to look around inside the club, he’s our eyes and ears. Besides, he’s too big to mess with.”

  Daryl laughed. “I guess you’re with me,” he said, winking at Claudia who turned away and spent the rest of the ride staring apprehensively out her window.

  * * * * *

  We arrived after dark, later than the night before, giving Claudia pause enough to say, “I don’t like the look of things. Not as crowded, I mean, look at the men staring at us already.”

  “Drake, take a drive through the parking lot so Claudia can look for her daddy’s car,” I said. But I was also worried that the dancers had already disappeared inside to prepare for their numbers.

  The parking lot lights were not as bright as they could have been. But I appointed myself as a look-out. “I do see a black Caddy,” I said. I directed Drake down the row of cars until he braked behind the Cadillac.

  “That’s not his car,” said Claudia, relieved. “Daddy’s plate says NCHARGE. Plus he has a parking sticker on the front windshield for our house on Hilton Head.” She brought down her window and peered out, satisfied it was not her daddy’s car.

  “Your daddy has a place on Hilton Head?” asked Daryl, but he seemed like the kind of guy impressed with the least little thing.

  “It’s not a big place. We go there Christmas and Easters,” said Claudia, still not willing to acknowledge Daryl.

  Drake came around in his seat and said to Claudia, “Hilton Head? You realize you mess things up for him, you mess things up for you.”

&nb
sp; “Please keep your opinions to yourself,” I said, growing increasingly impatient with his views. “Don’t you know how hard this is for Claudia?” I reached into the back seat holding my hand out to Claudia. “You still want to do this?” I asked.

  She clasped my hand and nodded, much to my relief.

  A group of college students wearing university jerseys walked across the lot. They gathered on the walk out front not yet going inside.

  “Claudia, if you want to hide among the college students, it would be a good cover,” I said, trying to sound encouraging. “I’ll walk with you.” I volunteered as casually as I could, trying not to show how anxious I was to station myself at the door where the dancers entered.

  Drake pulled into a remote parking space and killed the motor. “Let me walk her,” he said, insisting. “Daryl, you keep watch out for us, make sure no one’s causing us any trouble. Look out for Peaches while you’re at it.”

  Before I could talk him out of a maneuver that undermined my plans, he was stepping out of the car. He met Claudia, closing her door behind her a bit gallantly, as if he were her date. Then he held out his arm and she accepted it, giggling. Claudia followed Drake across the lot.

  I sat back trying to decide exactly what my strategy should be. I had ruined our first visit and Claudia’s chance for disproving that Mr. Johnson frequented this place. I wanted to be certain my scheme did not interfere with her aims or even hint at my deepest prayer—to discover I was wrong about my own mother.

  I did realize I harbored a secret, guilty comfort watching nervous Claudia escorted to the front of the strip club. She had boasted more than once she had no point of reference for a broken marriage. The fact I concealed a sort of sinister consolation at Claudia’s plight surely meant I was destined for eternal flames at such a thought. Even though I felt assured Claudia had merely intercepted a prank call about her daddy, though, maybe she would remember and offer more support when I needed a friend to lean on.

  “So you’re a famous dancer, I hear,” said Daryl, moving to the center of the backseat so he could see me.

  “Used to be,” I said, not at all interested in divulging my private matters to Drake’s not-so-bright cousin.”

  “Drake’s mentioned you a lot to me. If you know what I mean. . . Peaches.”

  “Don’t say anything else,” I said, so mad at Drake I could smack him for insinuating I’d have anything to do with his Cro-Magnon cousin. “I need time to think.”

  “Drake gets the pretty girls. I told him he should share.”

  It made it no less painful to hear a troll like Daryl talking about me in the same sentence as wanton Drake. “You got an ID says your twenty-one?” I asked.

  “In my pocket,” said Daryl.

  “I need you to do something for me. But I don’t want to involve Claudia or Drake,” I said, drawing him into my conspiracy.

  “What do I get in return?” he asked, smiling in a way that made me uncomfortable.

  “You ever do anything for the sake of being one of the good guys, Daryl?”

  He scratched his head.

  “Do this for me and you’ll be a good guy for once,” I said, believing I was tapping into some human part of him. I was wrong.

  “One kiss,” he said.

  “I’m under age,” I reminded him, just short of calling him a troglodyte.

  “So am I,” he said, grinning. “It’s a fake ID.”

  “But you look so old,” I said, wanting him to know I had no interest in him.

  “Do I get the kiss or not?”

  I don’t know how long I paused. But he would not relent. “After you’ve done what I need,” I said and then swallowed hard. I tried not to bat an eye. I gathered up my pocketbook and walked a few feet ahead of him, keeping a safe distance. I would not take his arm as Claudia had done with Drake. I wished to goodness I could trade partners with Claudia right now, although Drake was no good to me without the ID.

  I steered Daryl to the other side of the sidewalk where Claudia could not see us. Claudia was doing a good job staying hidden among the college students who seemed to be gathering for someone’s birthday as several had shown up bearing gifts.

  After I distanced myself from Claudia’s post, I took Daryl aside and told him, “I want you to go inside. Try to make your way back to where the dancers are preparing for their stage acts. You should find a backstage entrance for them.”

  He grinned at the prospect of an encounter with an exotic dancer. “Aren’t you a surprise?”

  “I want you to ask if there is a dancer by the name of Alice Curry.” I cringed, figuring he would connect our names. When he didn’t, I pulled out a notepad and pen from my pocketbook. I scrawled a note and folded it up. “Please don’t read this. When I tell you that it is urgent and important, will you trust me not to read it?”

  He put his arms around me, looking into my eyes. “For a kiss from you, I’d risk a night in jail, princess.”

  I pressed the note into his hulking hands, resisting the urge to shove him back. “Give this note only to Alice Curry. If she isn’t around, then bring it back to me. I’ll be waiting here under this tree,” I said, adding in a whisper, “for you.” I untangled myself from Daryl’s grip. Then I took a few steps backward, nearly tripping off the walk. I waited in the dark shade of the large tree next to the club.

  Daryl meandered past the group of students, not so much as glancing in the direction of Claudia and Drake who were still keeping watch for guests crossing the parking lot. He was at least following orders.

  I stayed in the shadows to draw no attention from any male guests looking for girls who were easy pick-ups.

  Daryl had been gone fifteen minutes. I was beginning to feel anxious. The parking lot was overflowing and guests were parking in the street. A cloud cover moved across the sky streaking the moon. I was certain I heard a distant rumble. A breeze blew my hair around my face. The moon disappeared entirely making the night dark as tar.

  Finally, Daryl’s lumbering frame moved toward me, a colossus causing pedestrians to part and allow him to pass. He was only a few yards away when he threw open both arms, saying, “I did it, princess. Where’s my kiss?”

  I wanted to run, but had cornered myself. I would at least try and stall him. If I had to kiss him, I didn’t want to risk Claudia seeing me do it. If forced, I would tell him not here, to walk me back to the car. I prayed for a miracle.

  Then a stage door opened. I was completely unaware of the backstage entry until now as it squeaked open behind me a few feet from where I had hidden under the tree. A thick-necked bouncer stood in the doorway taking up the entire opening. “Anyone out here named Flannery Curry?” he asked, bored.

  I whirled around. “I’m Flannery Curry,” I said, not even glancing at Daryl.

  “You’re company is requested inside,” he said. “Follow me.”

  I never felt so relieved to be entering a strip joint and not a parked car. Before I followed the bouncer inside, I said, “Daryl, tell Claudia to wait for me. Don’t leave without me.”

  “You shouldn’t go in there,” said Daryl.

  “I have to,” was all I had time to say before the door closed.

  An antiseptic stench rising from musty wood hit me square in the face. The building was mostly constructed of aging wood, wood ceilings and plank floors thickened by numerous layers of paint. The bouncer identifying himself as Eddie led me down a corridor with walls too thin to drown out the noise from the disorderly audience gathered beyond the dancer’s dressing rooms, out in front of the stage.

  Eddie knocked on a splintered brown door, saying, “Starlight, your visitor.” He left me alone in front of the door. I hoped that the dancer called Starlight would take one look at me and tell me I was mistaken.

  I felt a lump in my throat, my mouth dry. My mother’s face flashed in front of me from my last memory of her the day she left. I remembered her slender frame, her blue cotton print dress. Hair pulled back in a ponytail that made he
r look like a teenager.

  The door opened, but not wide enough to see anyone in the dim yellow light of the hallway. “Come inside,” said the woman. “Hurry.”

  I stepped into the room. The first thing I noticed was a pink wall and a bright red lamp adorning a vanity. Then I froze when the door closed behind me.

  “You’re gorgeous,” she said, standing off as if she were taking me in.

  “Alice Curry?” I had imagined I might cry upon sight of my mother. But instead my chest tightened and I could barely breathe.

  We stood looking at one another. It wasn’t a dramatic moment like when you meet your mother at the bus station after a long trip. Truth be told, I could think of a hundred other places I would rather be at this moment.

  “Do you have a hug for me after all these years?”

  I embraced her. I was surprised at how skeletal she felt, like a bag of bones underneath her faded white satin robe. “I can’t believe it’s you,” I said. I could not manage a smile, although it seemed right and proper to show her some affection. Too many years between us had suddenly opened up into wide and unfamiliar terrain. I could not think of what to say. I felt nothing but anger. To be honest, I wanted to scream at her.

  “It’s been so long,” she said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you called me Alice.”

  I had not rightly decided what I should call her.

  “Your hair, it’s turned auburn,” she said, cupping the ends of my hair.

  “I’ve colored it,” I said.

  “Perfect for your skin. You did inherit my red hair, though.” She said it like a question.

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re born red, you stay red. I guess you’d understand why I want to know how you found me,” said Alice.

  “On accident.”

  She invited me to take a seat on a soft worn sofa and then sat next to me, drawing up her bare knees and hugging them with her arms. “Not to sound motherly all of a sudden, but you really shouldn’t be here, Flannery. I wouldn’t wish anyone here, but especially you. What brought you here?”