Gypsy Davey Read Online Free PDF Page B

neck, upand down her neck, working one side and then the other. Lois closed her eyes and threw her head back. They continued to dance, more slowly than the others. Jerome nibbled her neck, nibbled her earlobe, took a nip off her chin. Lois started kissing him back. Jerome’s back was to Davey, and Davey could see the top half of her face as she waggled her head in one direction, Jerome in the other. Trying to swallow each other in their mating dance. Like spiders. Their feet moved almost too slowly for the eye to see by the time they had rotated to where Lois’s back was to her son. Davey watched Jerome’s hands. Stained with something like dirty motor oil, those hands slid up and down and up Lois’s sides. Then down again, his hands slid. Down, Davey watched, over his mother’s backside, up and down again, rubbing it with both hands, feeling it, then squeezing it, kneading it, squeezing his mother’s behind as she swiveled her hips to accommodate.
    The song ended. Lois opened her eyes and started talking, nuzzling into Jerome’s face. Davey walked backward, back into the crowd. He banged into a man who grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and sent him on his way. A new song came up, something jumpier this time, with fiddle and accordion, and the dancers started bopping. This time they jostled Davey all around. He found his face momentarily pressed into the soft inviting hip of a woman, and almost nuzzled it, almost embraced it, almost held on and hugged.Next thing, though, the hip stuck out and bumped him off, on his way again. Sharper elbows jabbing his head, pointy cowboy boots cracking his ankles. But none of it felt like crisp, bone-on-bone blows to Davey. They were just bumps, knocking him almost off his feet, the impact somehow muffled. As if he was wearing a lot of sweaters, a lot of thick heavy socks, a leather boxing helmet.
    Davey’s eyes were swollen as he climbed back on the stool. He stared at the polished surface of the bar.
    â€œHey, I missed ya, little monk,” Victor said. “Thought maybe you wasn’t comin’ back.” Davey didn’t look up. Victor stooped to look up into his face. “Glad ya did , though,” he said.
    â€œWell hey there, big man,” Lois said, her hands on Davey’s shoulders. Jerome was not with her. Davey looked up as she sat down next to him and showed her the exact placid face he had on before she left. “Old Vic takin’ care of you?” she said.
    Davey looked at Vic, who smiled proudly at the job he’d done. “Ya, he is,” Davey said. Vic flipped him another bag of honey roasts, which Davey devoured like the others.
    â€œI’m gonna go home now, Ma,” Davey said, wiping a grain of salt from the corner of his mouth with one finger.
    â€œReally, Davey?” she said, trying to sound more disappointed than guilty.
    â€œYa, Ma, I’m ready.”
    â€œOkay, we’ll go then, I guess.”
    â€œNo. You don’t have to go, I know the way. It’s only a little ways. I want you to stay, really.”
    Lois paused, then took Davey’s hand. She turned and stared at Victor for a few seconds until he walked away, shaking his head. “Are you sure, Davey? ’Cause I’ll go with you, if you want.”
    He shook his head as he hopped down. “No, Ma, I want you to stay.”
    From the far end of the bar, Victor waved to Davey. Davey stopped in the doorway and waved back.
    â€œI’ll be right along, honey,” Lois called extra loudly. “I’ll be right there. Tell your sister I’ll be right along.”
    Davey nodded and pushed the door open, letting the last of the daylight come in and slice the bar down the middle. Then he closed the door quietly behind him.

DECKED OUT IN CHEESE
    Sneaky Pete could do this trick where he extended his right arm, straight out from the shoulder, shift, align, maneuver it just so, so that the elbow joint