The Mysterious Dame
The Club seemed like a good place to escape the summer heat; fans rotated slowly, their wide blades circulating the ice-cooled air. Maxine was singing that night, swaying slowly while she crooned into the mic. It was the most movement we'd see out of her until it was time for her to walk backstage. Any more than that, and she'd work up such a sweat that it would make her unbearable to look at.
Yes, it was a sultry night. And then, in walked a dame that made the night seem hotter, draped in thin silk that was blood red. The half-veil attached to her hat was just enough to cover her eyes, just enough to tease a man into thinking her attention was on him.
Her attention was on me.
She glided over to me, and Benny slid a gin in front of her without a word exchanged. I don't think he knew her, she just looked like someone who wanted a gin. She tilted her head at me in greeting, leaned in close, and said, "You know Joe Farrington?"
I knew Joe Farrington. I knew him well, knew him as well as you know someone you've known your entire life. I didn't have to answer, I could see that she knew I knew him. And she probably knew that I knew that she knew I knew him.
Yeah, I knew Joe. Knew him like a brother. I told her that, but she just nodded. She had already known. What she really wanted to know, she said, was how I happened to know him like a brother. So I told her.
"He's my brother."
I never saw a dame's eyes flicker quite like that. She hadn't known; she knew Joe, and she knew I knew Joe, so how could she not know that?
Furthermore, I could see that she didn't want me to know that she hadn't known. But after a moment, I could tell that she knew that I knew that she didn't know, but I didn't know if she knew that I wouldn't allude to it. We nodded to each other and she picked up her glass and tossed that gin back like a pro.
"Thanks," she purred. "That was what I wanted to know."
Three men fainted when she passed them on her way out the door. I watched her go, wondering why she had wanted to know.
I guessed I would never know.
I guessed wrong. Some detective I turned out to be.
I asked Benny for another Jack and Coke. As I told you, the night was hot, and the fans couldn't bring down the temperature significantly to keep you from building a good thirst. As I sat at the bar wondering about the Dame...there really wasn't any other name that would suit her. She could have been called "Shirley", or "Joan", or "Nancy". It wouldn't matter. The only appellation that would best describe her would be "Dame", anything else wouldn't do her justice...Anyway, as I sat their letting my subconscious dwell on her smell, her walk, the subtle curve of her lips, and the not so subtle curves of her breasts and hips, I felt the buzz in my jacket pocket of my cell phone. Slight, just enough to break my reverie with the insistence of its vibratory pulse.
"Hello, Sam here."
"Mr. Faith? Is this Sam Faith?", the voice was subdued, questioning and hesitant.
"Yea. Who's this?"
I guess asking this question is reflex. Something in the night, in his voice, in the events that had already occurred made me know who it was...Well if not his name, at least his occupation.
"Mr. Faith this is Detective Sanders. I am sorry to disrupt your evening especially with the kind of news I have to tell you. I hope you are sitting sir?"
"Yea. What?"
"Your brother is Joe Farrington correct?", questioning. Uncertain, yet confident in the positiveness of the answer to come.
"Yes, well my half brother if you want to specific. What's the matter?" I knew. I knew what he was going to say before the words came out of his mouth. What was it about strange women, dark bars, hot nights, and unexpected phone calls in the night that you just know the news is going to be bad?
"I am sorry to have to tell you this over the phone sir, but there has been an accident. Your brother's car was found off of Highway 121 in flames and his body was inside. It looks like he lost control and crashed off the embankment. We need you to come down to the morgue and identify his personal effects."
Silence. Damn. Fuck. I looked at the empty glass of gin still sitting on the bar, and then at the doorway where the Dame left.
Silence. Damn. Fuck.
"Mr. Faith? You there Mr. Faith? Are you ok sir?
Silence. Damn. Fuck.
More persistent this time with a hint of concern, "Mr. Faith are you ok sir?"
"Yea." NO! "I am still here. When did this happen?"
"About 4 hours ago sir. We had to get the contact-next of kin information from the hospital records. I am sorry to have had to tell you this over the phone sir. I am sorry also to ask this but, could you please come down to the county morgue to identify him?"
"Yes. I'm on my way now", I replied robotically. Was that my voice? It sounded so distant. So...dead.
"Let me give you the address sir. Do you have a pen and paper handy?" he asked.
"Uhm...No need. I know where it is." Yea I knew. I knew very well.I had been down there to many times for it to be comfortable. Hell, once is more times than any person needs to go down there. It didn't quite register with me at the moment, but he seemed surprised to know, I knew. Of course why would he know I knew.
"Ok then. We'll be waiting." We?
I hung up the phone. Maxine was singing another song, or was it the same song? After awhile Blues all sounds alike. I guess it was very apprapo. What was she singing? I couldn't quite focus on the tune or the words. The sentiment was there in the music. It spoke of heart ache-loss. It was the dirge of the spirit. Isn't that what all Blues songs were about?
I finished my drink in one swallow. Contemplated another one...or five. Then thought better of it. Dropped a $20 bill on the counter next to my empty glass. The Dame's gin glass was gone. Benny must have cleaned it up. I looked at where she sat. Then I stood up and walked out the door that she had come in from.
