The Pull of Gravity (13 page)

I waved to her when she got close, and she stopped on the street just below us, hands on her hips, looking up. “Hey, Papa. What’s going on?”

“Hi, Jade. Where you off to?”

“Work. Starting early tonight. Who your friend?”

“This is Larry,” I said. “Larry, this is Jade.”

“Hi,” he said.

“Ah. Is this the famous Isabel’s Larry?” she asked.

Larry’s eyes opened wide.

“One and the same,” I said.

“He’s cute. You tell Isabel I say so, okay?” she said.

“I’ll try to remember,” I said.

“Hey, Papa. We have anniversary party for bar on Thursday night. You off that night?”

“Not this week.”

She gave me a faux pout. “Too bad. We having body-painting contests and I know how much you like that.”

I laughed.

“Okay. Gotta go. Good to meet you, Isabel’s Larry. Bye, Papa.”

We said goodbye and watched her walk off.

“How did she know about me?” Larry asked.

“Nothing’s ever private in Angeles,” I said. “Besides, Jade is one of Mariella’s friends.”

The smile on Larry’s face slipped a little. “I don’t like her,” he said.

“Jade’s all right,” I told him.

“That’s not who I meant.”

I took a sip of my iced tea. “I know who you meant,” I said.

Silence overtook us again for a few minutes.

“I have an idea,” I said. There was only a little bit left in my cup, so I drank it all down in one gulp.

“What?” Larry said.

“What if I make Isabel a waitress instead of a dancer?” I asked. “I’ll bump her pay just a bit. It doesn’t mean guys are going to stop asking to bar fine her, but it’ll happen less and it’ll also be easier for her to say no.”

“Really?” I could see actual hope in his eyes.

“Sure.”

“But what about the money I want to send her?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then said, “Send it to me. I’ll open an account for her and put it all in there. When she’s ready, she can start using it. In the meantime, if there’s an emergency, the money’s there.”

He thought about it for a few moments, running the idea through his mind. “Okay. Yeah. That’ll work. But I’m not going to hide anything from her. I’m going to tell her what we’re doing.”

“That’s your choice.”

And so it was settled. Larry would be happy that he was doing something to make Isabel’s life a little easier, and Isabel would be happy she could prove she wanted him for something other than his money. And in the end, Isabel hadn’t been lying. The first time she ever touched that money was two weeks after Larry died. And on that day, she withdrew it all and left Angeles for good.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

For those of us whose life was Angeles, the party rolled on. Hangovers and catfights and bell rings and beer and dancing and half-worn bikinis and bar fines and pool and everything and anything that was Angeles—it was all part of the cycle that never ended. Get on or get off, because there was no in between.

Isabel adapted quickly to her new role as waitress, making as much as, if not more than, she had when she’d been a dancer. And every month, money would come in from Larry, more than enough so Isabel could live comfortably, send some home, and quit work if she wanted. But even though I told her every time the money arrived, she would just nod and say she didn’t need it then.

In that, I think, she probably was unique among the girls on Fields. Even if they had really believed they weren’t going to touch it, most of the girls would have ended up taking it out anyway. The temptation was too great, and the pressure from the other girls for them to use it would have been tremendous. The majority of girls on Fields had a bad case of spend-what-you-got-and-don’t-worry-about-next-week. But for the longest time, Isabel and I were the only people who knew about her situation so I guess that helped.

Larry fell into the habit of visiting every two or three months. Sometimes he’d spend the whole time in Angeles, other times he’d take Isabel away for a while. To Manila, to Puerta Galera, back to Boracay. He also became one of my steady suppliers of Märzen.

As far as Cathy and I were concerned, I was able to keep that secret from the girls at The Lounge for a good week and a half. And once the news was out, the incessant teasing began. The one thing I noticed was that the girls became a bit more respectful of Cathy. It wasn’t that they didn’t treat her well before, it was just that they had collectively decided she had more power now. And instead of trying to downplay this, I decided to use it to my advantage, leaving Cathy in charge for hours on end while I went to “run an errand,” which usually involved having a beer with Dieter at Sinsations or with Hal at Tricks. Cathy seemed to enjoy the new responsibility and even talked about maybe being a mamasan one day.

Just a little less than a year after that group trip to Boracay, I was sitting in the back office at The Lounge, ostensibly going over the books but in reality doing the crossword puzzle in a two-week-old copy of the
New York Times
someone had left behind that afternoon, when I heard a scream from the bar.

This, in itself, was a bit surprising, as usually I couldn’t hear anything over the music. But it was just after six p.m. and the place had been pretty empty so the music was turned down low.

I was out of my office in a shot, and heard another scream just before I entered the main room. In the bar, I found the girls grouped together near the front door, but no one seemed to be in distress. In fact, most of them were smiling or laughing.

Their attention was focused on a guy who had just entered. He was a big guy, not tall, but not fat either. He had the look of one of those guys who spent their entire day in the gym lifting weights. Muscles bulged everywhere, and while he could have probably lifted fat ol’ me off the ground without effort, I wasn’t going to test him.

It was Rudy, of course, he whose last name I never got because I never asked. He acted the part of the gentle giant, but in reality, he was more of a giant asshole. Wavy blond hair, Nordic chiseled face, and a temper lying just below the surface that could erupt without warning. He was one of the Angeles regulars, a Dane, I believe, who’d immigrated to the U.S. as a teenager, and now lived in the Midwest somewhere. He’d planned his trips around holidays in the U.S. He was always coming to the island at Thanksgiving, and this time, since it was nearing the end of May, he was obviously taking advantage of the upcoming Memorial Day three-day weekend.

Rudy had a way with the girls that was all his own. He had been coming regularly for over ten years, and Jade had told me once that he used to be a lot different than how he was by the time I met him. “Respectful and kind,” she’d told me. “Just a nice guy.” But now he had taken to using sarcasm as charm, and treated the girls as toys who were there for his pleasure. And if that weren’t enough, he was the king of breaking one of the Cardinal Angeles Sins. He was a butterfly, someone who’d bar fine different girls from the same bar on different nights, something he took great pleasure in.

I had a conversation with him once when we were both still sober that went something like this:

“If I see something I like in a bar,” he said,
something
his pronoun for the girls, “I tell her I want to bar fine her. If she says no, I turn to her friend, because they always got friends around, and I offer to bar fine the friend, and promise her an even bigger tip than I would have given the first girl.”

“And that works?” I asked, knowing that it probably would, but disapproving of anyone who would try it.

“Nine times out of ten the friend’s sitting in my lap two seconds later.”

“Good for you,” I said, unable to hold the sarcasm from my voice.

“Look, it’s their job, right? So if they don’t want to do their job, fuck ’em.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He shrugged. “I’m here to have fun and get laid as many times by as many girls as I can. If a girl doesn’t like my sense of humor or the way I’m treating them, someone else will. I’m not trying to win any nice-guy medals. This is
my
vacation, and when I’m on vacation, my heart stays at home.”

I doubted he had a heart at home, either, but the sad thing was, he was right. There was always a girl who would take his money. Most of them knew what he was like going in, so they didn’t care. But occasionally he’d hook someone who expected him to come back for her, and she’d stare in shock when he came back to her bar and took someone else.

“Ladies, ladies. There’s plenty of Rudy to go around,” he said.

He was still surrounded by the mob. No matter how big an asshole he could be, he still fascinated the girls. Several of them were squeezing the muscles on his arms while others grabbed at the bits of chocolate candy he was handing out.

I glanced around the room to make sure no other customers were being ignored. The only other guy in the place was sitting in one of the booths, cuddled up next to Wilma. So I put on a big smile and walked up to the crowd.

“Rudy,” I said. “Welcome back.”

“Hi, Jay.” He thrust a hand at me, nearly taking Rochelle’s head off as he did. I grabbed it and gave it a quick shake.

“I heard some screaming and thought maybe we were having a riot,” I said.

“Everywhere I go is a riot.” Rudy laughed at his own joke. “I was just giving a couple of these little beauties bicep rides. Come on, girls, let’s show him.”

He held his arms out, angled slightly downward. Two of the smaller girls, Tessa and Noreen, wrapped their hands around his biceps, Tessa on the right and Noreen on the left. Slowly, Rudy moved his arms upward until both girls, their legs bent at the knees, were dangling above the floor. Rudy continued raising his arms until he looked like a bodybuilder holding a pose at a contest. Both girls screamed as he began twisting at the waist, moving them back and forth.

After he set them back down, I led him over to a booth. Several of the girls followed, piling in around him on the bench. Isabel appeared beside me ready to take his order, so I asked, “Something to drink?”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Any preference?”

“This is the Philippines, so a San Miguel, of course.”

Isabel was about to turn and retrieve his drink when Rudy said, “Hold on there. Not so fast.”

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Let’s see.” He looked at his temporary harem. “Lady drinks for her, her, her and her.” He pointed at a different girl each time. “But not for her,” he said, gesturing at Lamie. “You stood me up last time. So you’re out.”

Lamie gave a halfhearted laugh and looked around, uncertain.

“I’m serious,” he said. He flicked his hands in an outward motion. “Shoo. Find someone else, because you aren’t drinking from this well.”

One of the girls, Veta, leaned over and whispered something in Lamie’s ear. Lamie looked past her at Rudy, then got up and left.

“What did you tell her?” Rudy asked.

“I told her she should just go,” Veta said. “That you weren’t interested.”

“Good girl.” Rudy looked back at Isabel, pointing his thumb toward Veta. “She gets two lady drinks.”

“Anything else?” Isabel asked.

“Get yourself a drink, too,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks,” Isabel said. She turned and headed for the bar.

“Who’s that?” Rudy asked me, as if none of the other girls were around.

“Isabel?” I said. “You never seen her before?”

Rudy started to shake his head, then stopped. “Didn’t she used to be a dancer?”

“For a while.”

“She’s fine,” he said.

“She have boyfriend,” Veta said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She no go out on bar fine.”

“That a fact?” he asked, looking straight at me.

“Afraid so,” I told him.

“Too bad.” His eyes lingered in Isabel’s direction a bit longer than I would have liked.

Rudy stayed for another hour, judiciously handing out chocolates and occasionally starting tickle fights with Veta and the other girls. But when he left, he left alone.

“I don’t like him,” Isabel said to me.

I was standing near the bar, talking with Cathy and keeping an eye on our meager crowd, but I didn’t have to ask her who she meant.

“Something happen?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said in a way that told me the opposite.

“You gonna tell me?”

“Not important.”

“Tell him,” Cathy said.

Isabel frowned, then told us how Rudy had offered to bar fine her. She told him no. But ten minutes later, he asked again. When she told him no for a second time, he said he wouldn’t accept no for an answer, and that before he left to go back home, she’d go out with him.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I said that I was sorry but I don’t go out with anyone. I am just a waitress, I tell him. ‘You cherry girl?’ he ask me. I tell him that is my business. Then he laugh and not bother me anymore. See, it was nothing.”

Isabel smiled confidently, then left to get drink orders from a new group that had just arrived.

“I think maybe it was more than nothing,” Cathy said.

“So do I,” I said.

•    •    •

It turned out to be a slow night all around, and by three a.m. we’d seen the last of our customers. I waited a half hour before officially closing, then told all the girls who remained to head home and get some sleep.

By this time Cathy was basically living with me. She still shared an apartment with a couple of girls from her province who worked at the Bang-Bang Club, but she was seldom there. Our routine was to close everything down, make sure everyone was gone, then lock up and take a trike home.

I’d gone into the back for a minute to turn off all the lights. When I returned, I found Cathy talking to Isabel and Noreen. The tone of their conversation seemed serious.

“Everything okay?” I asked as I walked up.

They immediately stopped talking and looked up at me.

“Well?” I asked.

Cathy glanced over at Isabel, as if she was waiting for her to say something. But Isabel remained silent, so Cathy said, “He’s out there.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. It had been a long night and I wasn’t connecting the dots.

 “The big guy,” Noreen said. “You know, from earlier tonight.” She held her arms out like a bodybuilder.

“Rudy?” I asked.

“Yes,” Noreen said. “I see him out there. He ask me if Isabel leave yet. I tell him yes, but I don’t think he believe me. So I tell him I go back inside and check.”

I looked at Isabel. “Have you gone out there yet?”

“No,” she said.

“Okay. Noreen, you come with me,” I said. “Let me do the talking.”

“What will you tell him?” Isabel said.

“That you’re gone.”

I put a hand on Noreen’s shoulder and could feel her trembling slightly under my touch. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll deal with him. You can just go home.”

Cathy unlocked the deadbolt for us and opened the door so we could exit. Manny Aznar, who’d appointed himself my personal ride-home driver, had parked his trike right in front of The Lounge, just beyond the sidewalk. He jumped off his seat the minute he saw me.

“Hi, boss,” he said. “Home now?”

“Not yet,” I said.

I looked around, but didn’t see Rudy at first. Noreen nudged me, and when I looked down, she motioned with her eyes to my left. And suddenly there he was, an image of Thor, leaning against the building. He had one of his Mr. Happy smiles on his face.

“What’s going on, Rudy?” I asked.

“Just hanging out.”

“Noreen tells me that you’re looking for Isabel.”

“Then Noreen has a big mouth,” he said, still smiling.

Noreen slid behind me a little more. “Why don’t you go home?” I said to her.

She tried to smile, then nodded and was gone.

“Isabel’s not here,” I said.

“I haven’t seen her leave.”

“You been here long?”

“Long enough.” He pushed himself off the building and took a step in my direction. Even in the glow of the streetlights and nearby neon bar signs, it was hard to tell whether he was drunk or not. But Fields being Fields, it was best to assume he was.

“You been here since ten o’clock?” I asked.

He stopped about five feet away from me, still grinning. “Like I said, I’ve been here long enough.”

“Well, unless you’ve been here since ten,” I said, “then you wouldn’t have seen her leave. That’s when she went home sick.”

He furrowed his brow, his smile slipping a bit. “She didn’t seem sick earlier.”

“She’s not going to act sick in front of the customers.”

He seemed to consider this new information. “You’re sure she’s gone?”

“I already told you she was.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow and see how she’s feeling.”