The Night's Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page A

been easier to try driving the motorcycle up the stairs than dragging it by its handlebars one step at a time.  She was covered in sweat by the time she got to the top, but now she could get out of this place and all of its suffocating love.
    Lois found the keys hanging up in the kitchen, along with the house key Lois had left behind in a restaurant bathroom years ago.  She snatched both to tuck into her pocket.  Then she wheeled the bike out to the street.  It started up on the first try.  She didn’t look back in the mirror as she zipped away once again from her childhood home.
    * * *
    She got as far as The Brass Drum on 148 th Street, on the border between Centerton and Uptown.  For one thing she had forgotten a helmet and was tired of getting bugs in her face and for another the bike was almost out of gas.  She’d find a unicorn to ride home in Centerton before she found a gas station.  So she might as well get a drink before she had to walk the bike five miles to the nearest station.
    She had first gone to the Brass Drum when she was eleven years old.  She had looked every bit of seven back then too with her short stature and freckles.  The bouncer had stared down at her and asked, “You lose your teddy bear or something, kid?”
    “I’m not a kid.  I’m a little person and if you don’t let me in I’m going to sue your ass for discrimination.”  The bluff and the Drum’s shady reputation got her inside, where she had drank her first beer.  She hadn’t liked the taste of it so much as she enjoyed the idea of doing something Mom hated.
    This time the bouncer didn’t give her a second glance as she went in.  She found the same stool as back then, between two clones of Red and Blue T-shirt back in Durndell.  The bartender was a woman who looked as if she doubled as the adult entertainment.  “Give me a Jack Daniels and leave the bottle,” Lois said.  She slapped down enough money to make certain that request was honored.
    As she drank her first glass of whiskey, she looked around the bar.  She hadn’t lied to Mom when she said she hadn’t done any prostitution or stripping while on the run.  That didn’t mean she was a virgin by any stretch.  She had gone to bed with a few guys over the last seven years out of first curiosity and later boredom more than anything.
    Boys like the ones on either side of her didn’t interest her much.  Most of them knew less about sex than she did and their idea of conversation usually involved their football team or how much they could bench.  Surveying the bar, she hoped to find someone a little more interesting, someone with a brain .
    She saw a likely target coming out of the VIP room.  He had the brown skin and black hair of a Latino or Arab.  That black hair was on the long side, but not too long.  From the look of his trim frame he kept in shape but wasn’t a jock either.  The jeans, button-down shirt with the top buttons open, and sport coat meant he probably wasn’t in college yet either.
    As if he sensed her watching him, he turned in her direction.  She didn’t try to make a pathetic attempt of minding her own business.  Instead she smiled and held up her glass.  He seemed to understand the message and walked over.  His gait was confident enough that she knew he wasn’t a virgin either.
    His eyes were brown and he had a five o’clock shadow that somehow made his face more handsome.  His skin was still smooth enough that he couldn’t be thirty yet.  She noticed these details as he came up to her.  “You want to go sit down?” he asked, shouting to be heard over the noise from the band attempting to play rock music.
    “Sure,” she said, nonchalantly, not trying to sound coy like a lot of women would.  She snatched the bottle of Jack and followed him over to an empty table.  She filled the glass and then pushed it towards him while taking hers from the bottle.  They slammed their containers down in unison and then laughed.