Easter City Read Online Free PDF Page B

out his
lip and sniffed.
      I raised my eyebrows, nodded at the
key, the flyer, the door.
      “Fine then! Nipple
makes the rules! Joq never gets to make the rules, yeah? Because
Joq’s just an ‘ ickle
baby !” He stomped over to the bar and
filled up a flask before heading to the door and gesturing me to
follow with his middle finger.
      We stepped into the square and Joq
shut the door tight and shivered. A tear shimmered down his
jaw.
      The burnt out shops loomed around us,
but they didn’t seem intimidating. It was like they were watching
over us (the bar heat and booze had gotten my head).
      Far off, up the side
street, past that barrier between the buildings that kept the
Wealthy Devils out, Fly Me to the Moon was scratched on a far reaching
gramophone.
      We started up the street to where Joq
had joqed himself off at the couple that had been going to the wing
place. The side street was hard to climb and we took our time so we
wouldn’t fall, which gave Joq a window to rattle off pointless shit
about himself.
      “—me father bought ‘em for me. Volumes
of ‘em British movies, yeah? Used to watch ‘em all the time at me
‘ouse in the ‘ills! Big ‘ouse, it was! Full of pretty maids what
gave me a good suckling even up ‘til me tenth birthday!”
      I stopped at the top of the hill and
waited for Joq to catch up so he could lead the way to La Rouge.
Across the street, Love Bird’s Wings and Fries was empty. A few
cars drove past, but this side of Main Street was otherwise
vacant.
      Joq led the way, talking. I followed,
ridged, shrinking back whenever we passed a group. But none of them
bothered us—not even the Wealthy Devils. They just passed us and
kept pointing at the flyer-strewn street and murmuring excitedly
about an impending snow storm, and how they were going to be late
for the show, which bothered me more; the magic show in my dream
happened at night.
      “Calm before the storm, you know.
Worst Main Street’s had, though you wouldn’t guess it by the look
of the sky.”
      “Walk faster, or we’ll miss Julia! You
know how desperately I want to see her!”
      “Damn you Marissa. I’ll never bring
you back to Main Street if you don’t shut up, you hear? Then you’ll
have nothing to contribute to your ‘gossip girl’ group!”
      Grey clouds billowed overhead and
blocked out the sun, throwing Main Street back into shadows of
neo-noir gloom. They kept piling on heavy so that by the time we
saw the gold obelisk of Big Win Casino, streetlights tinked on.
      At the intersection near my gutter
there was gridlock and a swamp of escorts and Wealthy Devils and
families, pushing their way into La Rouge, slipping around its
marble columns and clapping up its granite steps in their stilettos
and black shoes.
      A man with a handlebar mustache was
standing on the island-roundabout, shouting into a bullhorn. “THIS
WAY, IF YOU PLEASE! ALL CARS TO VALLET! JULIA TO OPEN IN AN HOUR,
ON THE HOUR! EASY DOES IT! NO PUSHING IF YOU PLEASE!”
      We joined the crowd and made our way
across the street and, after practically walking in place behind a
particularly large group of Wealthy Devils, walked up the stairs
and past the bellman. In a blur I was standing in the lobby of La
Rouge.
      It was vast and airy and everything
was marble—the floor, the walls, everything. And there were crystal
chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and a low pressure wine
fountain near the center. Across the room was a sizable restaurant.
Tendrils of grilled steak and fried fish scents whispered across
the room and slithered up my nose.
      The ‘no smoking sign’ was eclipsed by
cigar smoke. Usually people left smoking for casinos, but I guess
this magic show was big news and everyone wanted to show off their
hundred-dollar-bill-wrapped, gold-tipped Cubans.
      Cool sweat beaded my brow. There were
so many adults in one place. Wealthy Devils in suits, lounged on
white sofas with their escorts’ fingers