Percival Chapter Three

Clarrisa paid no attention to the hungry eyes of men sitting in front of her, clutching their one dollar bills. Cigarette smoke swirled into the ceiling fans as she danced to a rap song blaring through the loudspeakers at the Playas Gentlemen’s Club. Her buzz from the hard liquor had kicked in a half hour ago but she still pivoted gracefully on her high heals. She worked her way around the stage, placing their dollars in her garter. When the song stopped she moved to one of the three brass poles on stage.

The pounding bass of the next song reverberated the dark club and vibrated the pole in her arms. She threw her legs around the pole and flipped upside down. The faces of the men looked more interesting while upside down and in this position she could look into their eyes. They shined with lust, carnal. She removed her bra while upside down and threw it behind her, the men clapped. Slipping to the earth, she let her hands touch the ground and her feet came touched the stage.

Once again she made her rounds. A man folded a dollar in his ear, another folded his in the shape of a teepee, and a man in his late fifties waved his in the air. The song ended and she snatched her outfit and headed backstage.

“Give it up for Candi Cane,” shouted Freaky-Nick from behind a glass window.

Clarrisa emerged backstage in the dressing room with five other strippers working the lunch shift, Rosie, Penelope, Sam, Katie, and Hilda from Sweden. Katie, a short brunette and a small round face, waited behind the curtain to make her way on stage before introductions.

“Next on the stage is Blossom. Give it up for Blossom,” shouted Freaky-Nick.

“Nice spin,” said Katie and she rushed onstage.

Clarrisa stepped down into the changing room where the girls were chatting and drinking. No one went on stage sober, maybe some of the new girls, it’s one of the first things a stripper learns. Sam, the oldest one there and Clarrisa’s roommate, waved as she leaned against the empty seat next to her.

“I’m going to head out for awhile, Sam. I’ll be back at five for my next shift.”

“You’re going to see that guy again aren’t you? What’s his name?” asked Sam, as she tapped a rolled dollar bill against her chin.

“Percival. And yes, I’m going over.”

Sam smiled, turned around and faced the mirror. Clarrisa picked up her duffle bag which contained her clothes, spilled the contents on the floor and riffled through it, picking out a pair a blue jeans and a Mighty Ducks tee-shirt. As she put her leg through a pants pocket, the door on the opposite side of the dressing room opened and Santiago lumbered in with two men trailing him. Santiago wore his favorate fur coat, while his companions looked like they came out of Foot Locker, wearing bright basketball jerseys and baggy jeans where the crotch came down to their knees.

“Hey, ladies,” said Santiago. “I want you to meet Cash Roll and D-Dub. These cats are the newest artist signed to my Gratuatuous label.”

“What’s up,” said D-dub, the one to his right, as he puffed on a joint. The kid couldn’t be older then eighteen.

“We’re having a party this weekend at my house. You are all going. The girls from Utopia too, so no complaining.” Santiago turned to Clarissa as she pulled her tee-shirt over her head. “Where are you going?”

“I’m hungry. I’ll be back for the nightshift.”

He moved to her, put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up towards his.

“Alright sugar, but don’t you be late.”

Santiago opened the door and left the way he came in and Cash looked over at Hilda pointed and said, “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as they left, Clarrisa stuffed all her clothes back into the bag and waved goodbye to Sam. All she could think about was leaving and didn’t look back as she hurried out the door and over to the bus stop

While she sat on the bench, Percival popped into her head. He’s a nice kid but they’re kidding themselves about their relationship, though it felt good to have someone take care of you. He saw past all her idiocyncracies and to the person underneath all the shit, where a little girl resides that never had a chance to grow up.

The bus squeeled to a stop and she climbed the stairs, finding an empty seat in the back. For years now she couldn’t sleep because of horrible nightmares but they have subsisted since meeting Percival. The only time she slept soundly before him was when she shot up. It was a liberating feeling.

The bus bounced down the busy streets until her stop. She dodged the other passengers, minding not to step on anyone’s feet as she got off. Once outside, she hiked the mile to the motel. The sun blazed down and not a cloud mired the sky. Being cooped up in that lousy bar all day made her body crave the outside.

She remembered when she was young and her mom moved from the city to the suburb that she got to explore the woods in the enormous backyard. Clarrisa wandered for hours until hearing her mother yell for her, then she would run back. The concrete walls of the buildings surrounding her felt like an enclosed room with the sky as the only window.

The motel popped into view around the bend of the road. When there, she climbed the stairs. Percival kept his door unlocked for her, so she entered.

“Percival,” she called but no reply came. She threw her pocket book onto the floor and went over to the fridge to see if one of the several takeout containers were still good. She gave one a sniff before finding a clean fork and chomped down on some raviolis.

Percival mentioned to her the other day that he had to go to his other job, something to do with helping out in a science lab but he should’ve been home by now. She turned on the television and watched her soup opera.

Her favorite character, Herzel loyde, had become entangled in an illicit love affair with a man that was in love with another. Her lover had just died but she just found out that she is pregnant with his child. She didn’t know why this made her think about Percival and their own relationship; they hadn’t kissed yet. When she finished eating, she tossed the container in the overflowing garbage can.

The door sprang open and Clarrisa jumped. Percival rushed in with a bright smile on his face. He carried a large shopping bag, but when he saw her, he hid the bag behind his back.

“I got you a gift but I don’t want you to see it yet, so turn around.”

She got excited and turned around. She loved gifts. Her fondest memories of her childhood were of Christmas morning.

“What is it?” She bounced with excitement.

He took out the dress and hid it under a pile of dirty clothes and placed a pair of jeans inside the bag.

“I don’t want you to sneak a look at it so I’m putting it under the sink. When he passed her, she looked over her shoulder trying to catch a glimpse at the contents inside, but his shoulders shielded the bag, as he bent to put it under the sink. He got up and kissed her on the cheek.

“You’ve got to tell me what it is?” she begged.

“Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“That you will go to dinner with me this Saturday.”

“Of course. Now tell me what it is?”

“It’s an outfit for you to wear.”

“Really. Can I look at it?” She moved to the sink without his answer. When he didn’t answer, she opened the cabinet and pulled out the bag. Her heart sank as she pulled out a dirty pair of jeans with one leg inside out. “What is this?”

He didn’t want to disappoint her but he also wanted to see her try it on for the first time on Saturday.

“I’m going to give it to you on Saturday. So you’re going to have to wait, but I promise that you’re going to love it.”

She smiled and kissed him on the lips. Never in a million years did she think she would find love. He had a way of making her feel special.

“Oh shit. What time is it?” she asked and realized that she had to be at the club for the next shift.

He looked at his watch and said, “Three forty-five. Why?”

“I’ve got to work tonight. I’ll be here around three.” She felt bad leaving as soon as he got home but she didn’t want to piss off Santiago. She grabbed her purse and kissed Percival again on the lips.

“Bye. I love you.” She felt relieved to say it but was scared how he would take it but it just came out.

“Bye. I…’ll see you at three then.”

As she closed the door, she hoped she didn’t push it too far that he was going to run. During the walk to the bus stop, she thought about if he was going to break up with her. Maybe he wouldn’t be there when she got back. She would walk into an empty motel room with a simple note that said: Not ready for this. Have a nice life.

The bus’s brakes squealed to a stop and she waited for everyone else to get on first before she got on. She dreaded going back to her job. Maybe she could get a job as a waitress, something more respectable. She’d been doing this for three years now, and was considered a veteran. But she knew that another job wouldn’t pay her the same and she got her heroine cheap from Santiago. If she left she’d have to pay for it at normal price and wouldn’t be able to pay her rent. She felt trapped. She tried to quit once, but she relapsed a week later. She pleaded her roommate to take her to a rehab but Sam wouldn’t.

The bus came to a stop near the strip joint and she followed several men out the door. A few of the women eyed her as she got off. It was almost five and she hurried inside, she didn’t want to piss Santiago off.

She entered the back door and D-Dub leaned against the hallway and looked at the closed office door, which meant Santiago was inside doing business. He bobbed his head and acknowledged her, and she scooted around him and hurried into the changing room. There were twice as many women here then earlier in the day. The constant chatter of women sounded like a flock of swarming geese. Clarrisa went over to her duffle bag and started getting changed. The concoction of thumping of rap music and twenty screaming drunk strippers filled the room. Bottles of alcohol passed from hand to hand and when a bottle of Jack Daniels reached her, she took a big gulp and felt the comforting burn in her chest.

“Clarrisa, you’re starting out at the bar, then working the side stage,” said Sam, as she handed her a rolled dollar bill.

“Alright, you’re working the same shift as me?” she said and bent down to look at the mirror.

“As always. I’ll meet you out at the bar.”

Clarrisa was ready to go, as she slid her feet into her high heels. Sam followed her to the bar. Their job was to talk to the men, try to turn them on and get them to have a lap dance. She’d sit at the bar and talk to some old construction worker, who just got out of work, coax him to buy her a drink and then talk to him. It was interesting to listen to how they talked, coming up with huge tales to impress her like how much money they had or that they knew the next big thing that’s going to make them a millionaire. Then there’s the locals, who knew all the strippers by name. Old Harry Zubanks, who gets so drunk that he’d pass out during a lap dance. Then there’s the rowdy Terry Schapel, who would pick fights with other patrons who he thought were hitting on his stripper for the night. There’s also the upstanding Leon Dubieruck, who always came dressed in his lawyers outfit. He’d sit around, sip on his hard liquor and spend his money on only one stripper for the night.

They were as comfortable here as if they were at there own homes. A wave of the hand and there usual drink got placed right in front of them. Sam walked over to two men playing pool and grabbed the pole away from the man standing there waiting for his turn. When his companion missed his shot, she bent over, wiggling her butt in the air and took the shot for him.

Clarrisa was now in her Candi persona. She leaned close to Leon’s ear and whispered, “Can I bum a cigarette from you, love?”

“Why sure, sweet cakes,” he said, and knocked the pack against his palm and a single cigarette popped out. “Here you go, my dear.”

“Why, thank you.” She placed it between her lips and bent down to light it with a match he just lit. Giving the pool stick back. “How long have you been here?”

He swiveled his barstool around and faced her. “Since four. I closed shop early tonight. Can I get you something?”

She squeezed between him and another gentleman that stared somberly into his draft beer. He looked like a truck driver to her. As she rubbed up against him, he turned around, glancing at her body rather than into her eyes. She was used to that, especially since she had on such a revealing outfit. But he turned back towards his beer.

“I’ll have a long island iced tea,” she said to Hilda, who ran the bar tonight. Leon slid a twenty across the bar.

She puffed on her cigarette and leaned over the bar, trying to catch the attention of the truck driver, but he didn’t pay her any mind and continued to look downcast into his now empty glass. She noticed that he twisted his wedding ring around, not taking it off, but rotated it.

“Why don’t I take your mind off your wife for awhile?” she said to the man. He looked taken aback.

“Is it that clear?”

“Yes. You look like a someone shot your dog. Why don’t I take you into the V.I.P. room? Maybe that will cheer you up.”

“I don’t think so,” he said and leaned closer to her and put his hand out. “My names Chris.”

“Candi. Well than, maybe you can watch me when I’m on stage?” she said and shook his hand.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Santiago enter from the side door, followed by an entourage of eight men. One of the men was Santiago’s drug dealer. He wore a purple suit and twirled a white cane. Several of Santiago’s bodyguards loomed around him and eyed the crowd. They herded into the V.I.P. section, and Erckel, a scrawny boy, used by Santiago as an errand boy, ran up to the bar and ordered four bottles of crystal. His real name’s Eric but Santiago named him Erckel because it fit the kid’s dorky demeanor.

Hilda produced the four bottles from a special refrigerated lockbox underneath the bar. The kid bear hugged the bottles and slalomed through the crowd and back into the V.I.P. room.

Clarrisa watched Erckel so much that she didn’t even see D-dub behind her, until he tapped her on the shoulder. She twirled around with her drink in hand.
“You were here earlier? What’s your name?”

“Candi,” She said and sipped on her drink through the straw.

“Yea that’s right. Well your coming with me,” he said and tossed a hundred dollar bill and let it bounce off of her breasts and drift to the ground. “That should make you mine for an hour.”

“Where to sweetheart?” She picked up the bill.

He took her hand and led her into the V.I.P. room. Black lights filled the room with a purple glow. The walls were lined with leather sofas, built right onto the walls, and mirrors filled every space other then the door on the other side of the room that led into what the strippers called the black hole, where what happens in that room doesn’t leave that room. Several women gyrated their bodies over patrons sitting on the sofas.

They walked across the room and knocked on the door to the black hole. One of the large bodyguards opened the door and let them in. The black hole was just as big as the V.I.P room but had a big screen television, lounge area, a large pool table and a personal stage for private strippers. Santiago sat on a recliner and yelled at the basketball players on television. D-dub led her to a plush couch and pulled out a huge roll of twenties held together by a blue rubber band. Clarrisa started dancing to the music being pumped in through huge speakers in all four corners.