11. Phoenix
PHOENIX
“Actually, he only told us one,” Parker interrupted, “but I’d love to hear as many as you’d care to share.
I’m always looking for inspiration. The latest idea I had was bike messengers, but I’ve been mulling over a mystery involving an ex-high-profile model fallen on hard times, working at a strip club, and he is going to need at least one partner, if not more, to help him solve whatever mystery unfolds there. ”
“If you want to talk bizarre shit, we can sit around all night and I’ll talk your ear off,” Uncle James assured him.
“As long as you do it on someone else’s couch,” Dorian said. “The boys and I have an early start in the morning, so it’s closing time, gentlemen. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
“In this case, going home will work,” Aspen declared. “James, you’re welcome to join us. The shop doesn’t open until ten, so I will be sleeping in.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Dorian grumbled.
“Hey, you set the hours, not me,” Aspen reminded him.
“Which can always be adjusted,” he said.
“Going now,” Aspen said and caught Parker’s arm, tugging him to the lift while Uncle James shook his head.
“They’re good for you,” he said.
“Yeah, they are.”
He nodded, but I could tell there was more that he wanted to say.
I appreciated Aspen inviting him over, since it would have felt weird to invite someone to someone else’s place, though it wasn’t lost on me that I brought a few more things over to Aspen’s place each time I stopped by my room above the strip club.
The sight of us roaring out of the parking lot could have been the start of a bad joke, as two bikes, a convertible, and an SUV hit the street with music blaring.
Metal from me and my uncle’s bikes and grunge from Parker’s, while Aspen, despite his efforts, couldn’t drown us out with Black Sabbath.
To say we were loud was an understatement, but it felt positively amazing, as did my uncle’s acknowledgment of the men in my life and how important they’d already become to me.
I just hoped he still felt the same way about them when he heard what I needed to talk to him about, but I’d let him tell a few stories first. That always put him in a great mood.
My uncles had always turned up for me and my siblings, right along with our folks, keeping up with our sports and activities.
The rest of the stuff, camping, fishing, learning to play cards, and how to properly throw and take a punch, had always been family affairs.
Uncle James hated bullshit, so I hoped he’d be suspicious enough to dig further into the string of incidents I’d written down for him and cross-check it with the schedule, because I was certain that I knew who was responsible for letting in a steady stream of assholes and idiots.
My bike fit in the garage beside Aspen’s car, while Parker and Uncle James parked on the street. We met at the front door, Hells Bells still ringing in my ears, with a blanket of stars overhead and a bright, silver-glowing moon.
Beautiful didn’t begin to describe it.
It didn’t take long for iced tea and double chocolate chip cookies to be passed around.
Parker liked to bake when he needed a brain break, and when he was really stuck on something, he raided the kitchen, took off for the grocery store, and came back with an assortment of things.
I helped him carry them in, then waited in the den for him to finish playing Master Chef.
I didn’t mind. In between reading graphic novels, I’d put together a list of ideas, themes, and a whole plan for launching a new line of signature cocktails.
Instead of being restless without heads to crack, I was using the time to brainstorm and look for ways to make the club stand out, and not for the number of back-alley brawls, either.
It was getting embarrassing, and I wasn’t someone who was easily shamed.
It would be nice to not get the response, Oh, you work there, from someone with their nose wrinkled or a sneer on their face.
Yeah, I knew our reputation was in the toilet, but it wasn’t too late to fix that.
“Okay, you asked for bizarre, try this on for size,” Uncle James said.
“This guy comes into the club one night to watch the dancers, and he’s carrying one of those round goldfish bowls with his pet fish in it.
I’ll never forget what kind of fish they were either.
He gets a table right up near the stage, orders a beer and nachos, and tells Baily, who was waiting on him at the time, that he brought his best friends out to celebrate the promotion he’d just gotten.
She asked what the deal was with the fish.
He said those were his friends, Molly and Molly 2, because they were both Mollies.
Pfffft.
Parker barely got the napkin in front of his face in time not to spit tea all over Aspen.
I was glad I hadn’t tried to sip mine yet because I’d never heard this story before.
“Baily brought his order and said that when she passed through later to check on her tables, he had his head pressed against the side of the bowl as he stared up at the stage, enjoying the view. He never bothered anyone and never asked her to bring him anything else either, but she said that at the end of the night, he thanked her for checking on him, waved, and carried his fish out the door, with a twenty-dollar tip left behind on the table for her. Honestly, we could do with a few more patrons like that.”
“At least he wasn’t lonely,” I said. “He brought his two best friends, and he didn’t care if anyone looked at him sideways because they were fish, but it’s probably a good thing it wasn’t a rowdy night, or I’d have been worried about the fish tank.”
Uncle James chuckled and shot me a look.
“You are your father’s son, kid. He felt the same way.
He positioned himself where he could intervene if the guy and his fish needed help.
They didn’t. It was a quiet night. Most of them were back then, which was likely why the guy felt safe bringing his fish in there.
Would be nice to see us get back to being that place again. ”
“Should I assume that you starting us off with the fish story was a means of easing into the realm of bizarre and unusual things that happened at the strip club, or did you toss us right into the deep end?”
“No, that was tame,” Uncle James said. “There’s no way any of you will be ready for the deep end tonight. He’s been hearing my stories since he was a kid, and even he isn’t ready for a few of them yet.”
“Seriously?” I grumbled. “Just how old do I have to be?”
He stroked his salt-and-pepper beard. “I don’t know, kid, you may have to wait around and read about them in my memoirs.”
“You don’t even like filling out the purchase orders,” I reminded him. “If you can’t jot it on a cocktail napkin, you don’t bother.”
“Exactly, but I bet I can piece my memoirs together one cocktail napkin at a time,” he said before taking a bite out of a cookie. “Now where was I?”
“You were at the part where you tell us what lay beyond the Mollies,” Parker said.
“Well, let’s see, there was Candy, and yup, that was her real name. Her folks pretty much predetermined that she was going to land in the industry somewhere by giving her that moniker.”
“Unc, should you really be making comments on the names other people gave their kids when I’ve got a cousin named Tequila?”
“As I was saying,” Uncle James said, pretending he hadn’t heard me, even while his cheeks pinked up.
“She came in there, and man, could she dance. Too bad she had a temper like a rattlesnake. Got into it with damn near all the other girls, especially if Sheela paid any extra attention to them. Well, unless Sheela was pissed, then Candy would just stand around smirking while waiting to hear what kind of trouble the other dancer had gotten in. If you ask me, I think she had a hand in some of that bullshit, but no one could ever prove it.”
“When do we get to the bizarre part?” Parker asked. “The guy with the Mollies was way more interesting.”
“I’ll give you that, at least in the beginning,” he replied. “It’s hard to work in a place like that without winding up with a chip on your shoulder about something. But a few months in, that’s when shit got strange.”
“There we go,” Parker said, leaning forward in his seat.
“So, one of the dancers, Delilah, used to have this clear plastic umbrella she carried out with her, for when they made it rain, only she’d flip it over and catch the money in it, among other things.
Sometimes she’d bang it on the floor a few times, and one night, when she did, the tip went through the floor, and the next thing you know, wasps came buzzing out of there like someone had hollered last call and started stinging the fuck out of people.
Turns out they had a nest under the stage.
Three days later, we got a fire ant infestation in the women’s dressing room; they were pouring in through a window.
So, we get the exterminators in there again, it’s starting to cost a pretty penny to keep shutting down, plus all the cleaning and sanitizing that has to be done after they’re finished spraying the place.
Not to mention the actual charge for extermination.
We even called the fucking Orkin man in at that point in case we were facing a plague of some sort, but he found no signs of mice, thank the goddess for that. ”
“Ummm, I’m still not sold on the whole bizarre part,” I said, sure Parker felt the same way.
“I’m getting there, damn. Got any more cookies?”
“Tons, let me grab the container,” Parker offered.
“Actually, Aspen, if you don’t mind helping him, I could use a minute with my nephew.”
“Sure thing,” Aspen said. “Looks like everyone could use their drinks refreshed anyway.”
Within moments we were alone, and I finally had the opportunity I’d been waiting for all night.