Little Did I Know: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

up.”
    “Stranger shows up in a small town, things happen. The energy changes, as does the gestalt of the community itself.”
    She didn’t get it, but she laughed politely, sweetly looking young and pretty. “Gestalt? What does that mean?”
    “Well, the makeup of things, the configuration symbolic or actual of people or places.”
    “Who talks that way, Auggie? I never heard that word. No matter.” As if on cue, our waiter brought a round of tequila with all the trimmings. Lizzy winked at me again. “Drink your drink.”
    I did. She followed suit and then sucked on her lime. It was strange how she truly was such a chameleon. Pretty, young, sweet one moment and then coarse, vulgar, and an old, sad presence in the body of a starlet.
    “So what are you doing here?” she asked.
    “You asked that I join you for a drink.”
    She giggled. “Not that, silly. I know that. I mean here in Plymouth.”
    “I told you this afternoon: I came to see your husband to rent the theater and put on shows.”
    She waved for yet another round. “Really? Truth: why?”
    “Because it’s what I want to do with my life and I think I’ll be good at it.”
    More drinks arrived and we repeated what was quickly becoming a ritual. I was buzzed as I watched her work the lime. This time it was flirtatious, direct, and very sexy. Was it the tequila or the girl?
    “Yeah, but then you have to spend time in Plymouth and talk to my husband . . .”
    She stopped in midsentence and crushed out her cigarette. Then she stood up quickly, leaned over the table, and kissed me hard on the mouth. She tasted of liquor and ash. Still, her lips were soft and her hair smelled of lilac. When she was done with me, she sat back down and said with a mischievous grin, “How’s your gestalt now, Auggie?”
    I couldn’t help but smile along with her. “My gestalt is just fine, Mrs. Barrows. Is that the tequila or the pheromones asking?”
    “Pheromones? Are they related to gestalt?” She said this as though she thought she was just the cutest thing.
    Before I could answer she continued, “You want to make a deal with Andy, you’re gonna need my help. Andy does what I ask him to. He is one son of bitch, but he likes to make me happy. You want me to tell Andy to give you that theater, then you’re gonna have to make me happy. You up for that Auggie?”
    Yet another round of drinks arrived, so I didn’t have to respond.
    Before she had her third shot, she removed her silk headband and shook her hair free, which made her look even better than she did before. She drank and lingered yet again on the lime. Her eyes were green like a cat’s-eye marble, and I was lit, and young, and stupid.
    “You come by my house tomorrow noon and we’ll work something out,” she said. “I’ll get Andy to give you financing as well. I mean, we all need money, right? It’ll be fun. Bring your pheromones.”
    Then she walked out of the Full Sail to her waiting limo. I wasn’t the only one in the bar to watch her ass sway as it left the place.
    Sarah Vaughan sang “Mood Indigo” on the jukebox. I took in a deep breath of crisp, salty air that cleared my head just a bit. The ocean was aglow under a black, starry night. I looked at the moon, which seemed to race across the sky as if chasing something important. Sometimes the unexpected little things say a lot. As do the lips of a stranger.

4
     
    I lingered for a while, then began the long walk back to Garden’s Beach View Motel. It was just shy of ten o’clock on this late spring night, yet it felt much later. The sky remained crystal clear, and blazing stars and a robust orange moon lit the road. There was no one around. The streets had rolled up early; other than the warm, heavy breeze off the bay, there was a disconcerting calm.
    Still, my thoughts were racing. I wanted to produce some shows. Sow my oats. Seek my bliss. It all seemed there for the taking, like the brass ring on a carousel; yet one that doesn’t come