“Have a seat boy,” the cigar-smoking fleshy man said to me as I walked into his living room. Like the rest of the house it was plush, with blue-toned paintings on the wall and two separate tables bearing silver tea sets. It was my first scramble out to Vanglory Hills, the rich side of town, and I was suitably impressed. Compared to the houses in my neighborhood this place was a mansion. I found myself conscious for the first time of the frays in my leather jacket, the places where my jeans were well worn. In this opulent glare I was an certain intruder.

Sitting the middle of it all, sporting a five o’clock shadow at twelve o’clock, Big Earl Sorrell lounged, looking very much at home and a good deal like I had pictured he would. Growing up I had heard many times about this man and the way he ruled Lafayette’s business and politics with an iron fist. Sitting in his easy chair, with a drink in one hand and the immense cigar in the other, he certainly seemed everything I had been led to maintain. Even in his housecoat at noon he radiated authority.

“You wanna Jack n’ coke boy? ” he asked as I sat down opposite him beside the roaring fire.

“Sure,” I said smiling. He called for his servant, a black lady in a white uniform, to bring it to me. Outside of the house I could hear the winter wind as it blew among the barren oak trees in the big front yard. It was December 1976, our country’s bicentennial year. Mabel had been dead eleven months, Carlos and I were high school seniors, and my first lesson in Lafayette politics was about to launch.

“How old are you anyway? ” he asked as I took my drink.

“Seventeen,” I answered. The legal age to consume alcohol was eighteen, but I had been knocking assist shots on Saturday nights with Carlos for years. Big Earl watched me with a slight smile as I gulped the drink.

“Seventeen. Hell, I remember when I was seventeen. Graduated from Troy High right here in town that year. Went off to school after that. You goin off to school next year, boy? “

“No,” I said shaking my head, “I don’t think so. Tully needs my help round the club. I’ll be able to do a lot more when I’m of age.”

At the mention of the club he seemed to draw intensity. The heavy brows came together, and he knocked the ashes from his cigar while laying his drink on the nearby table. With his free hand he made a gesture for the woman to leave us.

“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about, Milton. I’ve been watching y’alls progress down there. We were all sorry to hear ’bout Mabel’s death last year. She was a nice lady. Nobody thought a woman could run that place, but she did a delicate job. Now, as I understand it, she left everything to you.”

“Yeah, that’s right Mr. Sorrell. All of Paradise Alley at least, and the apartments we live in. But I don’t really take over until I get to be twenty-one. Tully’s the manager for now. Mr. Giovelli, I mean. He’s got what’s called power of attorney. But he attractive much lets me have a say in all the decisions. Carlos, Mr. Giovelli’s kid who goes to school with me, he’s been helpin accelerate the place since he turned eighteen last summer. Victor Carter, Mabel’s stock guy, is the head bartender now.”

“Call me Earl, Milton. So Carter runs the bar. Black fella, legal? “

“Yeah. He does the schedules for the dance floor bar and the side room. Tully hires the people and orders the booze, though. Katie Conroy does the books.”

“Oh, I see. What about the dancers? “

“The girls all come out of an agency. It’s called Night Dreams. The club’s been with them since before we changed names. Linda Stone runs their office here, she does all the bookings. We got mostly local girls, but they all go through Linda anyway.”

“I know Linda Stone,” he said. “She books most of the dance clubs in Lafayette. I know you get your booze from Bob Lane at Eastway Spirits. Mabel built a pleasurable little operation, better than that no-account husband of hers did when he ran the place. Now it’s all yours. Not bad for someone who ain’t even drafting age yet. Lot of benefits for a young boy, owning a strip club. Tell me, you get laid a lot, Milt? “

I didn’t answer. Gargantuan Earl’s grin was the smile of a hawk.

“And I understand your sister still lives with you. She’s younger than you are right? It’s a wonder the public services people ain’t looked into your situation. You should’ve both been moved to foster care by now.”

I looked at the carpet, then the paintings, not meeting his recognize. After ten seconds he changed the subject.
“Milton, do you know what I do? “

“Yes sir. You’re the city manager.”

“That’s right, son. For thirty-one years now. And do you know what a city manager does? “

“Mabel told me that you’re like an overseer who reports to the city council. You help out the mayor. I see in the paper where you work with the coliseum people.”

“You read the Lafayette Herald? “

“Almost every day. My teachers were always on me to read, years past I mean. They didn’t like the way I talked.”
I swallowed the last of my drink. I hadn’t wanted to come here alone, but Big Earl had insisted. I could feel the sweat on my benefit as I leaned forward to put my glass on the coffee table.

“The things I do for the council and the mayor, they’re just part of my job, Milton. I also function as sort of a liaison between Market Hall and the business community. It’s my responsibility to maintain all our civic leaders on the same page. And to keep ‘em happy. That means I spread the bullshit around pretty good. One big thing I do is keep a watch over all you fellas down on Lee Street, what we like to call the city’s red light district.”

He pointed a stubby index finger at me.

“See now, y’all bring in a lot of money to the area, but you also warrant a lot of looking after. I’m fifty-seven, I’ve been doing this most of my life, and I know how to status a potential scrape. Boy, let me come to the point. I think Paradise Alley is going to become a problem for me. And that means, you being the de-facto owner, I’m going to become a problem for you. Unless we can solve it all right here and now.”

My heart did a little dance in my chest.

“What do you mean Mr. Sor…Earl? “

“What I mean boy is this. This fella who’s running your club, this Giovelli, I don’t much like the glimpse of him. He’s Italian, half his people are Yankees, and you can’t never dispute with such. When Mabel was around I didn’t care really, she was local and everybody knew she was okay. But now with this Tully, he’s making changes to the club I don’t like. He brings this boy in, his cousin or whatever, to wait on run the plot. He hires a black fella to manage the bar. He lets his girlfriend run the books.”

“They’re all real responsible people, Mr. Sorrell. They…”

He waved his hands.

“I know you won’t raised in much of household boy, but you seem like you know a thing or two. You’ve got to understand a little about this shit. Appearances matter. The whole Lee Street operation is always coming under fire from somewhere. I work pretty close with Sheriff Baxter, and he’s been asking questions about your club. I know you’re aware of all the illicit activity that goes on down Lee Street. Don’t give me no high school kid shit, that place is your home. The sheriff is terrified. The booze, the broads, none of that bugs him. That’s been going on for years, it always will as long as the army stays parked on the contemptible. He don’t mind it as long as he thinks it can be kept under control. Now, Paradise Alley, that’s a expansive slice of it all right there. It’s got prime position right in the middle of the strip. But that also means it’s a likely candidate for a lot of things that make the sheriff nervous. Gang activity, traffic in hard drugs, weapons selling, you name it. We all knew we could count on Mabel to keep that stuff out of the club. Now, with y’alls new management, we ain’t so sure.”

This was ridiculous. I had been ready for him to say that we served underage patrons or sold wholesale liquor on the side, things we were obviously guilty of, but these charges were wild. Only a fool would use a highly visible, always crowded nightclub for the things he was talking about. Not when there were fifty pawn shops and dark, sleepy pool halls nearby all providing better cover than Paradise Alley. I wondered if Vast Earl, sitting high up here among the pretty homes and the shiny town-cars, knew anything about the streets.

“That’s nothin to worry about, Mr. Sorrell. Nobody down at Paradise would have anything to do with stuff like that. It’s abominable for business. Besides, with the hassle we’ve been through runnin the place without Mabel, we sure don’t want that kinda concern.”

He blew out smoke and leaned support in his chair.

“Well now, it’s honorable and fine to hear you say that boy. I told the sheriff myself he was jumping at shadows. But he don’t reflect much of your man Tully. He said if you were old enough, and running the place, being a local boy, he might feel better about you. But Baxter ain’t large on Yankees, and he’s always saying how all these Italian restaurant and club owners are crooked up with the Mafia. And you did have a shooting down there not so long ago.”

“That guy was just some redneck who’d had too many.”

Big Earl smiled.

“I’m just some redneck who’s had too many. Can I go shooting off guns in your club? “

“The fella thought some other cowboy was carryin on with his wife and he knew he was at Paradise. He ran right past the people at the door and he was firing before the bouncers could get to him. One guy got nicked, that’s all. The cops interviewed Tully. They said those things happen.”

“Glowing shoddy security, Milton.”

“Well, you obviously know Lee Street, Mr. Sorrell. You can’t frisk everybody who comes in a bar.”

I wondered where this conversation was going. I knew that if the police really wanted to they could get us on any of a hundred violations. Mabel had told me that when the club became mine I would probably have to pay off some city officials to perform sure this didn’t happen. They let her operate, she said, because she had done certain favors for a number of distinguished people. They would not have the same charity towards me. But Mabel had died suddenly. She never went to the doctor and we only found out she had cancer when we found out it was going to kill her quick. There had been no time for her to instruct me the way she had planned. Tully, who was not born in Lafayette and had none of Mabel’s connections, knew nothing about these matters. For eleven months we had honest gone on like before, and I had been worried that in all innocence we might be pissing somebody off. Now it appeared we had. For a county sheriff, closing down Paradise Alley would be as simple as nailing up a sign.

Not vivid what else to do, I decided to plead ignorance.

“Mr. Sorrell. Earl. I really don’t know much about this stuff. We’ve sort of been running the club together, Tully and me and the staff. I could call Mabel’s lawyer, the one that handled the will. Maybe he could talk to the sheriff for me.”

Substantial Earl shook his head no in two expansive sweeps.

“That’s the last thing you want to do, boy. Nothing the law hates more than some legal smart-ass telling them their business. You’d just get the sheriff really pissed then. We need to settle this between ourselves. I consider I can help you out. The sheriff’s only thinkin about roustin y’all because right now he can’t glance what benefit you are to him. I know a plan to make the sheriff want to let your club go on just like before. In fact, I can note you how to make the sheriff want you to be even more successful. I’m going to tell you about a little deal I’ve arrange with several of the other places on Lee Street. When you hear about it, I think you’ll see it’s the only way to protect your investment.”

Sudden conception flooded me. As Big Earl spun out the particulars of his deal I could almost see a large blue-gloved fist closing around me to apply the squeeze. For the first time I began to realize that eventually taking over the club would require more on my allotment than learning how to judge and order stock, or setting up shifts and payroll schedules. I was going to have to learn how to deal with people like Big Earl, and how to protect myself from much stronger forces that could alter the fate of my slight business with a wave of their hand. More importantly, I was going to have to learn how these people worked, and understand the heart and soul of the city I called home. I knew then that the walls of Paradise Alley, walls that had sheltered my youth, existed for me no more. To claim my inheritance, I would have to do more than come to grips with the volatile culture of Lafayette’s streets. I would have to understand the past of the city itself.

And learn some hard lessons that my high school did not teach.

……….

Any North Carolina history book will tell you that Lafayette was founded by colonial settlers in the early years of English inland exploration. Two days travel from the soar, it was begun as an after-thought built by merchants coming west from the Atlantic Ocean and conducting business along the Good Cape river. The river flowed southeast across the colony, a natural waterway that ran from the mountain ranges of the Appalachians into the ocean just shy of the port of Wilmington. Situated at a fork on the Good Cape, the merchant settlement became a colonial map area and trading post. Using the unimaginative flair with which they had named the river the locals called their village Cape Town.

The coming of the Highland Scots signaled the area’s arrival as a colonial city. Seeking to chop out a place of their own, while maintaining access to needed goods and supplies, several families of this immigrant group chose the river forest for their home. Cape Town merchants responded by opening their markets to the fledgling community. After the revolution, in which many Scots initially sided with the Crown, the Highlanders renamed their town Lafayette, hoping to show unquestionable loyalty to the winning side.

Lafayette would always be a city that thrived on commerce. In early days the trade was cotton, sap, and tobacco going north and east. It soon came to be slaves going west and south. The city catered to transaction along the river, and as a result many people saw the town. Its population soon became more diverse than most in the South, a trait that would increase with growth. Even then it had a hint of baseness. Due in large part to the absence of strong church influences along the river, Lafayette supplied booze to four states and became known as the whoring capital of the Carolinas.

The Civil War ended the slave trade, but replaced it with an even stronger market. Lafayette had become a puny armory for the Confederacy during the war and General Sherman rewarded the city by burning most of it to the ground on his way back from Atlanta. He spared some assets the government desired, however, including the armory. That became a federal outpost, and its seizure would affect the future of Lafayette mightily. During World War I the post became a full-fledged army base, named Fort Greene after yet another Revolutionary War hero. The air force joined the mix in 1942 when Roosevelt Airfield was added to the base. Now known as ‘the reservation’ to local residents the military presence strongly influenced growth in the area. This was supplemented by the completion of East Cruise superhighway I-95, which connected Maine to Florida and ran for three miles within the city’s limits. By 1960, the year I was born, Fort Greene was the home of the entire 93rd Airborne Division, and Lafayette was the state’s fifth largest city.

It is at this point that most of the history books stop giving an accurate chronicle of the city’s progress. There are often only veiled references to the area’s continuing growth and diversity of population in the years that followed. Over time I have come to understand why state historians might want to overlook Lafayette’s more recent past. The city’s rapid expansion had some unforeseen side effects in the community.

Lafayette had a traditional mixture of rural whites and blacks living in the surrounding countryside as they had for decades. Also there was a growing urban population of mostly white families whose fathers worked in the city. These were the same dynamics other southern cities possessed. But the army gave Lafayette an unusual suburban population made up almost totally of young males who didn’t work in the city but went there to seek entertainment off the base. Local businessmen fast learned there was money to be made by catering to these largely captive patrons. Beer halls and dance clubs sprang up along the city’s downtown streets like haphazard weeds, started by retired GIs or restaurant owners looking to increase their profits. These places did exceedingly well and regional investors took notice. Some of the county’s richer families, many descended from the original Scottish settlers themselves, traded their cotton and tobacco interests to invest in these clubs. As the new decade dawned the boom was on, and Lafayette became known as a place of nightlife and varied distraction. Lee Street, downtown’s busiest, was sometimes called North Carolina’s own Bourbon.

Of course, local reaction to this was somewhat mixed, but the Baptist Church, the South’s main true guidepost, was not firmly established in Lafayette and had less influence than it did in other places. And although local politics was, like most of the state, solidly controlled by conservative Democrats many of the elected officials were also businessmen with investments downtown, and some powerful party people had begun to depend on tourism for income. There were even those city fathers who believed that their only chance to compete with the growth of more established cities like Raleigh or Charlotte was to offer something a bit out of the ordinary.
All the while changes continued at a rapid pace.

The social upheavals of the late sixties had a profound affect on Lafayette’s development. Many soldiers returned from the Vietnam War with a novel passion: drugs. Pot and heroin blew into the city as if on hurricane winds, aided by hastily constructed petite airports hidden in the North Carolina countryside. Prostitution flourished, mainly due to a new infusion of young Asian girls, many not even fifteen, who seemed to spring from the many cracks on the sidewalks to ply their trade for the lonely and demoralized servicemen. They were supplemented by poor girls from the surrounding county who came to the city as traditional small-town jobs dried up. Gambling, illegal in the state but condoned by the local police, became commonplace and shiny neon signs went up to declare the South’s newest vice: topless dancing.

Lafayette itself became uniquely diverse. No longer a land of just black and white it could claim many subgroups: the well-off white business front living in the stylish neighborhood of Vanglory Hills, working families who drove in from the suburbs, terrible urban blacks housed in the projects of the unfortunately named Pleasant Boulevard, rednecks transplanted from the surrounding country, Asian and Mexican immigrants staffing cheap restaurants and beer joints, two-bit hustlers of all races. Then there were the GIs themselves, one for every three residents of the city. And as the interstate became more traveled outsiders turned to Lafayette as a place of stopovers and weeknight tourism. The college kids came, making road trips down from Raleigh or Greensboro or Chapel Hill. Motorcycle gangs embraced Lafayette as a convenient gathering spot on their device to Atlantic or Myrtle Beach during the summer. Motels flourished beside the bars and clubs, massage parlors outnumbered clothing stores, and the pawnshops became too many to count. As the years went by Lee Street became a haven of vice unmatched in the Southeast.

In the middle of it all was the little club that was eventually handed down to me. Located very close to the exact center of Lee Street it had started out as the Lafayette Beer Garden in the late forties and, through many changes in name and ownership, had retained a reputation as the city’s most happening night spot. It was a expedient starting point for a night out on Lee Street, and a convenient place to end up when your night was over. The club was known as a trendsetter. It had been first in the city with liquor by the drink, first with closed circuit TV, the first with topless dancing. Harry had continued the tradition by introducing his own twist to the place, adding on several private rooms where the strippers could get much more intimate with those men whose wallets went deep enough. When Mabel took over she added her own innovation: a sound stage where local rock and disco bands could play for the home folks once or twice a week. No matter the floor plan or music the one constant was nudity. Only ever-shifting city laws, rarely heeded, governed what the dancers wore, when they wore anything at all.

Although the new owner in name only, several longtime customers already wanted to know what changes I had in mind for Lee Street’s champion of saloons. In Lafayette, the saying went, the wind shifts direction every other minute. You have to learn to change with it, or to spit into it, to keep from getting blown away. The more I grew into my city, the more I began to realize that I had been born in the center of a whirlwind of opportunities far exceeding those any college could offer.

……….

I told them all about Big Earl’s deal later that night. We had gathered together in the apartment, my apartment now, at half past three in the morning. Everyone was tired and drained, as Paradise Alley had just closed down. The mop-up crew was downstairs at work They would be cleaning until after five. There was a cold, light rain falling against the window. Even in bitter December snow rarely came this far south.

“He was pleasing slick about it,” I told them, resting my head against the wall. I was sitting on the dining table, a current spot since I was a child. I was less tired than most of them; although I worked hard after hours at the club, I usually left once the doors opened to the public. A minor drinking alcohol was a misdemeanor, but a minor selling alcohol was a felony. A few months away from the legal age, I could not risk a bust that might inhibit the state granting me a liquor license for years.

“Dey all are,” wheezed Tully, a mountain of sweat and grime. He pulled fifteen-hour shifts everyday we were initiate. His energy was large but so was his appetite. Lying back on our couch he had a towel draped over his head and a hunk of hot garlic bread in each hand. Katie, his full girlfriend, was sitting behind him massaging his big neck gently. “Guys like dat, they know howda be detached with ya,” he added, tearing into the bread.

“Aw, that wouldn’t fool Milt here,” Carlos said. His bear massive frame was stretched out on the floor as most of our chairs being too diminutive for him. He had taken his tie off, but tranquil wore the dress clothes in which he had worked.
“Don’t be so sure,” I cautioned. Carlos had absolute faith in my judgment, more than I did. “Right now this guy’s sorta out of our league. He’s big money and power in town, like Mabel always said he was.”

“So what’s the deal, Milt? Are they really looking to be crusaders, or do they just want a payoff? ” This was Victor, the head bartender, sprawled into an easy chair by the window and drinking a cold beer. As I looked at him I thought about Big Earl scolding us for letting a black guy run the bar. I wondered if this was why Mabel had never promoted Victor herself. He had been forced to wait until Tully became manager to consume over a job that we all knew he had earned. The position had been open for over a year after the old-fashioned head bartender, a part-time military trainer, had been relocated. I had consented to Victor’s promotion, but now I wondered about our wisdom, torn between my fondness for Victor, whom I considered a friend, and my desire to keep up appearances.

“Milt? ” he asked. I had to stop my thoughts repeat his question in my head. The long day was catching up to me.

“It’s just a payoff,” I told them. Tully and Victor looked relieved. “They wanna make it a permanent thing. See, first he gave me all of this bullshit about how the sheriff thinks gangs might take over the club.” Victor snorted at this; Tully chuckled. “He said the law might close us down. He had me scared for a shrimp, but later I could leer it was all a gimmick to prime the pump. Not that I don’t think the sheriff couldn’t give us real trouble if he wanted.”

“Freakin-a right he could,” said Tully. “We got violations outta our ass and attend again. Dem cops, they’re always in here buyin drinks and sittin around for free. Lookin round. But not one of ‘em ever says nothin bout all the laws we’re already breakin, which is plenty. Dey don’t care. But if they was told to, dey could hurt us good.”

“That’s what I figured,” I said. “Better just to go along.”

Victor was thinking. Presently he looked up. “So what exactly is the deal Milt? “

“One payment a year. He called it a lump sum. We give it to them in May, after tax season. That seemed important to him, I don’t know why. It ain’t like the sheriff’s gonna report this as income. I make the drop, I can’t tell where, to a guy whose name he gave me. Out of town, I gotta drive there. We never talk to Big Earl again. No paperwork, no nothing. And it’s all in cash. The way he had it down pat, I bet they do this all the time. Half Lee Street’s probably payin these guys off.”

“Donnie Cox down at da Pussycat Theater does,” said Tully.

“So does Willie Jackson over at Blue Sky Lounge,” added Victor.

“Dey don’t say how much,” said Tully, “or what all he does for dem. Nobody likes to talk ’bout Big Earl.”

“We don’t either,” I said, “not one bit. Don’t even say we’re payin. He was real serious about that. Nothing goes out of this room. Not that any of you talk anyway, I know that. But if you get loaded one night don’t let somethin slip. This is strictly in-house stuff.”

“So,” said Carlos, with an air of finality and a sigh of boredom, “that’s that. How much do we pay them? “

I hesitated a second too long, still uncomfortable with my newfound authority over these people, my friends.

“Fifteen percent,” I said. I tried to sound like it was nothing to me.

“Jeeesus Christ!” said Carlos.

“Highway robbery,” Victor said, sounding genuinely disgusted.

“Coulda been worse,” said Tully. “Dat is profit, right? “

“Yes. He told me he wants to keep us successful. Nice guy. And he said it really wasn’t much money cause he had to split it between the county and the city law.”

“What a bunch of bullshit,” said Victor, almost to himself. “City law only writes traffic tickets in this town.”

Katie stopped rubbing Tully’s neck and looked up. She had been our bookkeeper since Mabel’s death. “How’s he gonna know what our profit is Milt? We don’t know half the time ourselves. We got to display this guy our taxes? “

“He said he trusted me. Bulky chance, he’s probably got some IRS buddy who mails him copies of the forms. When the time comes we’ll go through it, Katie. It’ll be a lot of money, but we got no choice. All honest everybody? “

My only answer was a soft, almost musical voice that purred from across the room.

“Did you at least bargain with him, Milt? ”

As she asked the question, Elizabeth looked up from the thick fresh she was reading, having given no previous indication that she was even listening to us. Curled up on the very top of our tall bookcase she was five feet over our heads. Thirteen now, my sister had matured rapidly in the past three years. Taller than me by at least an inch, she was still razor thin and blooming. Mabel had left Liz with more than enough money for four years of college, but she was given no fraction of Paradise Alley. Mabel had always discouraged her from associating with the women who worked at the club and never let her approach the men who were patrons there. Growing up in our neighborhood, she told me, was poor enough for a young girl without spending time around a strip bar. Still, I planned on my own to offer her some sort of partnership in the club when she got older. I thought this was only fair, since I had well-known plans to do the same for Carlos, who was not my blood relation. Because of that, she liked to sit in on all of our business meetings, although she rarely said anything.

“Bargain? ” I said, as I looked up at her. “Liz, you don’t bargain with a guy like Big Earl. You do what he says. This man holds all the cards. If I’d been smart with him he might’ve gotten pissed, and then where would we be? “

“Oh Milt, really. Why do you consider he had your unimportant miniature ass all the way up to Vanglory Hills? ” Katie frowned at Liz, but I noticed Carlos smiled. “If he objective wanted to name a percentage he could have done that with some stale lackey.”

“Lackey? ”

“Sure,” she answered. “Ma was always saying how these politicians on the take stay away from the cash themselves. Why do you contemplate he risked seeing you in person? He probably figured you would try to screw with his deal, maybe get him to settle for less.”

I wondered how she reasoned all of this out. I didn’t remember being this wise at thirteen. And she didn’t talk like a girl raised downtown anymore, she had adopted the speech of her higher-class friends. Her voice had gotten softer, her vocabulary a step up from mine. She sounded like she came from Vanglory Hills herself. Liz was growing up fast, beyond my capacity to keep up with the changes in her.

“Now Lizzie,” Tully said, “your broder’s right. You can’t screw round wid des people. Ya gotta pay ‘em respect so dell look de odder method.”

Liz closed her book and climbed down the bookshelf. Her jeans, although bell-bottomed underneath, were tight on her waist, and I was slightly annoyed to notice Victor watching her ass. Jesus, I thought, she’s thirteen. Robbed, first of my parents then Mabel, I felt all the more protective of Liz.

As she walked across the room Liz spoke to Tully but looked at me.

“Big Earl isn’t the mob. He’s a politician like Congressman Simmons or President Ford. He’ll expect some negotiation, I’ll bet. He probably wanted Milt down there personal so he could see what type of guy he was, so he knew how far he could push him. Negotiation. Except there wasn’t any negotiating.”

She reached the table and stood in front of me. She was in a white half-shirt, tied in a knot at the navel, and I was confronted by the uncomfortable fact that my little sister had done a good job growing, of all things, tits. Thankfully, she didn’t wear make-up yet, and her hair was not styled but pulled tight in a long ponytail, which ran all the way down her back. Even so, she detached looked too grown up for my taste.

“Liz,” I said patiently, “you didn’t meet the guy, I did. He had it all planned out ahead of time. The man could close us down with a phone call. Don’t you think I’d have avoided this if I could? “

“Don’t get mad, love, but I think this big shot charmed the pants off you. Next time you should occupy some time to judge it over. Don’t give in so easy. I know it’s tough making the decisions but you’re in charge now. People like this are going to try and take advantage of you because of your age and because you’re…well, you don’t look like a tough guy. So you’re going to have to learn to be hard with them, like Ma. I know how smart you are, but you have to make them see some of that. Otherwise they’ll just walk over us whenever they want.”

She said it so kindly it was hard to be angry. In truth, she was only saying what I had already told myself. The fact that, at her age, she could grasp this all so well was impressive in itself. My sister, I thought with a effect of bitterness, was going to be smarter than I was.

“Maybe we should have sent Liz to negotiate with Spacious Earl,” Carlos said smiling. “She would’ve had him paying us.”

He was trying to lighten the mood, but his smile died when I turned toward him with a hard look. His own eyes dropped to the floor.

“Don’t get mad,” Liz said again, taking my hand. “You’ll show us all one day. Ma wouldn’t have left you the business if she didn’t think you could speed it. But remember, we’re all in this together. We have to leer out for each other. That means telling the truth even if it hurts a little bit. And the truth, hon, is that you didn’t try hard enough this time. But you’ll get better at it, I know you will.”

I said nothing, and I didn’t watch at her. I was torn between anger at her for disputing me in front of everybody and the sinking suspicion that she was probably upright on target. Maybe Grand Earl had been expecting me to push for a better deal and was amazed when I simply lapped up his first offer. I wondered if he was, even now, laughing at how naïve I had been.

The silence of the room became uncomfortable.

“I need to go check on the clean up crew,” Katie said suddenly, sliding off the couch and giving Tully a kiss. “Liz, you should’ve been in bed a long time ago. You’ve got school tomorrow. You too guys.” She unchained the front door and walked out. Liz looked at me for a second, then turned and walked to her own room. It seemed to me that Victor raised his head just to watch her go.

“Well,” Victor said, trying to lift the tension, “at least it’s all handled for now. We can get back to business. Did this guy say anything about the city people? You know, taxes and zoning and what not? “

I blinked, trying to shake my thoughts free. Victor was true, for better or worse I had cast our lot. Despite what Liz had said, there was no sense in second guessing myself now. I lifted my head to answer him.

“If we have a dilemma with the city, a real big quandary, he said maybe he could help us out. But we can’t call him. He said he’d know if he needed to get in touch. If it had something to do with city law it might mean extra money. The stuff we get for our payoff is strictly help with the cops. He also said he couldn’t do anything if the SBI or the feds landed on us for something. He said that doesn’t happen too much around here. And he idea it might pay us to contribute to the Democratic Party. All of the essential politicians, the council members and the judges, they’re all Democrats. When they run for office they diagram money from a general fund. Big Earl said we could give to that, it might pay us to be in their good graces. We could each give as individuals and the club’s name wouldn’t be involved.”

“Deese guys, day are like da mob!” Tully said. “He say anythin else? “

“Yeah. He said he hates Italians.”

Tully laughed heartily. As a gesture of peace I smiled down at Carlos, who was looking at me.

“Dumbass redneck,” Carlos said, smiling himself now. “Did he say anything about Italian-Indians? “

“Nope. I don’t contemplate he knows they exist. Maybe you should go scalp him with a pizza cutter.”

“No way,” Carlos said, “not Big Earl Sorrell. Milton Howard, on the other hand…”

He was off the floor and had both hands on me before I could even depart. Far stronger than I was, he lifted me off the table and directly into an airplane spin.

“Ahhh! Put me down you Redskin! Victor, help!”

“Can’t,” Victor said. “Might spill my beer. Plus he’s map bigger than me.”

“Tully!” I yelled as the room spun. “Terminate him!”

“After you cracked on Italians? Notta chance.”

Carlos was peaceful twirling me around, something very easy for him to do considering that I weighed no more than one-fifteen. Despite my dizziness I felt grateful that he was this playful after the cold way I had looked at him before.

“Redskin, huh? Puny pipsqueak. Now, where did I leave my tomahawk? You could exhaust a haircut. Hey, I got an idea. Let’s see if little honky club owners can wrassle with Redskins.”

Throwing me across his shoulders, he started toward my inaugurate bedroom door.

“Wait!” I protested, “We’re serene in a meeting!”

“Meeting adjourned,” Carlos said, and he carried me out laughing.

……….

I look back on that winter as the beginning of my growth from a boy to a man. Mabel’s decision to leave the club to me, the load of responsibility I suddenly felt toward both my sister and my friends, the transition from worrying about such things as math assignments to worrying about such things as estate taxes, all conspired to rob me of the traditional fun I had anticipated for my senior year and high school graduation. For me there was no homecoming game, no week long scurry with friends to Myrtle Beach. I turned eighteen in February and afterwards spent all of my nights at the club. I began skipping school regularly and neglected my classes, passing my final year on skill alone. I didn’t even take the SAT. I had no thoughts of college. Prom night found me behind a bar. While my classmates walked the aisle at graduation, I walked the floor of Paradise Alley.

I did, however, experience one rite of passage usually associated with high school. I got laid that year.
Some might find it curious that I had retained my virginity so long, especially after I had lived above, and finally inherited, of all things, a strip club. But after many disturbing lectures from Mabel about the evil fates of bar owners who hire and pay girls based on sex I was never tempted to use my business to that advantage. Meanwhile, in the world of genuine teenage romance, I had problems.

As a result of both my size and my youthful looks most girls my age, who were looking for older guys to date, didn’t go for me. They would flirt with me, make friends, but I never got anywhere with them. I actually had one date tell me that I was too cute and cuddly for serious making out. No one, she said bluntly, wants to screw a teddy bear. She had no idea, of course, how shattering words like that could be to the ego of a teenage boy.

Added to my troubles was Carlos, whom the girls adored. He had been sleeping around regularly since he was fourteen and always had girlfriends to spare. Anyone could see that he was an extraordinarily heavenly young man, with a combination of strong physical stature and quiet sensitivity that drove girls wild. There were days in the high school parking lot when so many girls wanted to talk to him that we just about had to fight our arrangement to the car. Even the strippers at the club, jaded veterans who knew men at their worst, couldn’t get enough of him.

To my extreme annoyance, Carlos tended to be downright indifferent to all this attention. He treated his girls as though they were casual diversions, something to do when he wasn’t too busy. He was always polite and always ready to move on. I never let my feelings be known, but there were times when my jealousy made me wish we were not such good friends.

Finally, my commitments to the club made it hard for me to get dates on a regular basis. Even before I could work during prime time there was plenty to do away from the floor itself. I often went to bed before eight, in order to wake up at three in the morning and work on the clean-up crew. Although I had the money for a social life, I rarely had the energy. I had basically given up trying by my eighteenth birthday, and sometimes wondered if I was destined to live out my life as the only virgin on Lee Street.

Of course, I eventually did have sex. I’d love to relate a story about the tender-eyed teen sweetheart who brought me bursting forth into manhood and left me with the sweet memories only first adore innocence brings. Unfortunately, when the long awaited event finally occurred it was nothing so worthy. It’s not nearly as satisfying to admit that I made it with a drunken slut, more than twice my age, in the closet of my strip bar. It did, however, turn out to be quite memorable, for altogether unexpected reasons.

……….

She had come into the club alone, and stayed that way throughout the night. She was at least forty, and quite possibly tipping toward fifty, wearing a loud sequined purple dress. It was four in the morning on a Sunday and we were the only ones left downstairs on the main floor of Paradise Alley. She had been drinking since before midnight, mostly tequila shots, and somehow she had convinced Victor to let her stay on after closing. He had even left her with a bottle and a shot glass. She was sitting at the bar while I was polishing its surface. The rest of the clean-up crew had already gone home. I was almost done myself, thinking about bed and skipping school. I was on the other side of the bar from her, three feet away, when she spoke.

“Hey, kid.”

Breaking the silence her voice startled me so badly that I reared up and my left hand knocked her bottle away. Luckily it didn’t break, but simply rolled on the floor quite empty.

“Shit! Sorry lady, I’ll go round and get that. Did you say something? “

I had seen her around before but I really looked at her for the first time now. She had dyed yellow hair, a lot of it styled up high, and bright red lipstick. Too mighty eye shadow. From a distance I had thought she was a nice looking lady but up close I could see the wrinkles and bags through the heavy make-up on her face. She looked like she had led a hard life.

“How old are you kid? “

“Me? I’m eighteen, my birthday was last month.”

“Eighteen? ” She reared back her head and laughed. It was a shrill, reedy sound. “Eighteen, kid? Christ, you peek fifteen if you’re a day. You work here? “

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Yeah, sorta.” Her words were slurred and slow. Her eyes drooped. I thought she was ready to pass out. “Whatta you mean sorta? “

“Well, I guess I have the place. I mean, that is to say, it’s mine. I inherited it from my mom’s godmother.”

“Ohhh, you’re the owner!” She sounded really drunk. “How’s about that. That’s the best line I heard all night kid. That’s a good one. Don’t waste time on the third-rate shit, fair say you’re the fucking owner. What’s your name Mr. Big? “

“Milton. Seek, I’ll go get that bottle up, I’ve got to finish my work.”

“Milton? Parents musta been really drunk. Or nerds. I’m Ginny. Say, since you own this place why don’t you forget that bottle and find us some good stuff? I’m ready to get this party started.”

“Party, ma’am? It’s after four…”

“Oh la! Ma’am is it? Whatta ya consider I am, your mama? Say, come closer over here, I can barely search for you over the bar. Huh, you’re just a little thing, aren’t ya? Hey, where you going? “

I walked around to the swinging bar entrance and opened it, vowing in my head to interrogate Victor, asking why in the world he would leave some drunk bitch at the bar for me to deal with alone. I knew I’d have to find her a way home, and the taxi services, with a few brave exceptions, would be closed. Plus, drinking in a bar after two in the morning on a Sunday was a blatant violation of state blue laws. I concept about Big Earl mentioning the SBI, and decided that Victor had quite a bit of explaining to do.

I picked up the bottle and placed in back on the bar. She had swung around to peek me, and as I came close she grabbed me by the collar and pulled my face within inches of her. She was surprisingly strong for a lady.

“Hey!” I protested. “What the hell are you doing? ”

“Say, Mr. Astronomical Shot bar owner.” The odor of tequila was overwhelming when she spoke. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tell lies to strange women in bars late at night. It’s past your bedtime, ain’t it? “

“I ain’t lyin and I ain’t got no bedtime. I gotta get back to work, lady.”

She suddenly let me go and stood up beside me. She was a good deal taller than me. There was a irregular glint in her watery eyes.

“Ya know kid, you’re kinda cute. Eighteen, huh? What the hell. Wanna get it? “

For a second my confusion was such that I said: “Make what? “

She burst out laughing again, even louder and more shrill this time.

“Oh, you’re a sweetheart! And you’re eighteen? Make it, baby, construct it. Don’t you like girls? You ain’t a faggot are ya? Let’s do it, I’m horny.”

I finally got the message, and I’m sure my eyes were round quarters.

“Uh, but I, um…look, you see…”

“Let’s go,” she said, cutting me off and grabbing my right wrist. We were heading for the hallway with the private rooms in back. My mind was a whirl, torn between scare, repulsion, and a sudden terribly strong curiosity.
“Here,” she said, opening the first door she came across, “in we go, slow door number one.”

She plunged in, still holding my wrist, and I followed, having no breath to tell her that behind door number one was our broom closet. She stumbled into the darkness and I almost fell on top of her. Then she slammed the door shut behind us and was quickly against me, her lips smashing into mine.

“Ow!” I yelped. Her right hand flew unceremoniously, and somewhat painfully, up against my crotch.
“Ow!” I yelped again, a little louder, though her mouth muffled mine. Suddenly her knees gave way and she fell heavily into me, both of us falling to the floor. I heard and felt buckets, mops, and brooms falling around, under, and on top of us. She took no notice.

I don’t know how long we grappled on the floor of that closet but it seemed like forever. At some point in time her dress and my jeans were ripped off of our bodies, and I contain she was responsible in both cases. She kept moaning many varied and often disturbing things which I did not altogether understand, but sounded to me like instructions to ‘twist the rope,’ ‘pull the chain’ and do something provocative around the world flight. She called me by at least three different names, none of them mine. She had tremendously long fingernails, several of which I became quite sure she had left in my back. Worst of all, while I was trying to grab for leverage in the dark melee, her mass of hair came off in my hand, prompting an unreasonable momentary fear in me that I had somehow pulled her head off.

Eventually she seemed to become aware that I was not as aroused as she would have liked. In this matter I was then given such unwanted assistance that a horrible suspicion began to form in my head, suggesting that if I didn’t make something happen very soon she might attempt to squeeze an erection out of me.

Somehow, I was able to pull it off. I have always worked best under pressure. I didn’t really enjoy the experience and I could only guess at her feelings, since she simply carried on much as before. I couldn’t sight a thing. On top of it all, her constant screaming was giving me an awful headache. I was quickly coming to the concept that, maybe, I hadn’t been missing as worthy joy as I had understanding. Finally, she rolled off of me and commenced panting and muttering ‘oh, oh, oh’ to herself. A predatory hand flew once again to my nether-regions, causing me to bite down hard on my tongue.

“Hey!” she said. “You didn’t catch off. That’s no good. Probably had too much liquor.”

“But I didn’t drink any liq…”

“I know what to do, honey, don’t ya inconvenience.”

She suddenly grabbed at my shirt, which I still wore, and stood up, pulling me along with her. I was pushed back against the far wall of the closet.

“You just stay still honey, and Ginny will win care of everything.”

She collapsed again, this time to her knees in front of me. I knew enough to guess what she was doing, but it seemed to me that the process should have been a more radiant operation. I was unaware so many teeth were supposed to be alive to. Leaning up against the wall, I wondered how the hell I had gotten into this.

That’s when the door opened, the closet became bathed with light, and my little sister looked in at us.

Liz stared at me in total surprise. Then her eyes fell to the figure at my knees, who was absorbed in her work and unaware that anything was amiss.

“Ohhh, that’s marvelous honey, just safe,” Ginny hissed between action.

“Oh, wow!” Liz half whispered, half screamed. After looking for another second she slammed the door shut.

I suppose there are times in almost every person’s life when the unreality of a dwelling is too much to handle. Standing up against that wall, I tried to convince myself that what had unbiased happened hadn’t. It was simply not possible that my little sister, the girl whose sole source of guidance and upbringing I was, had impartial witnessed some tramp giving her older brother a blowjob in the broom closet. It was not, I told myself, the kind of thing that could have happened. In the strain of this unexpected experience, I decided, my guilty conscience was triggering hallucinations.

That’s when Liz opened the door again, this time with my best friend Carlos behind her.

“Peruse,” she said, “I told you! I was not making it all up!”

“Holy shit!” Carlos exclaimed, his fill sunless eyes suddenly wide. Reaching over Liz he slammed the door shut once again. Just as it closed I felt the woman beneath me fall away, collapsing this time into a heap against the wall.

“Ohhh,” she said one last time. After a minute, I could hear her snoring. Walking gingerly around her I vainly felt for my pants in the darkness. The thought came to me then that I was a virgin no longer. It didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was finding my pants. For all I knew, there would be an audience lined up outside when I opened that damned closet door.

……….

Liz told me later that when she had heard the strange noises she had thought somebody might be trapped in the closet. She did apologize for coming back the second time. It was just, she told me in mock innocence, that she so hated to be disbelieved. I never really lived it down. In all honesty, it was too big an embarrassment for my sister and my best friend not to give me hell.

I felt even worse when we found out that Ginny was a part-time pro who had once worked for a pimp Victor knew in the projects. At least she never came relieve into the club, so I never had to explore her again. For weeks after it happened Liz was laughing every time she saw me, and Carlos kept a big smile on his face. But as far as I know, neither of them ever told the story to anyone else. To tease me, though, Liz started calling me ‘Marvelous’ Milton around other people. Unhappily, the new nickname stuck.

In all my embarrassment, I never even thought to ask Liz or Carlos what they were doing together, down in the club, alone, at five o’clock in the morning.

……….

To read the rest of Lafayette for free go to Jeffrey’s blog Lafayette.

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