I Went Down (NaNoWriMo Read-Along)

3 Dapper Jack

On stage, a quartet of the girls with cascading feathers overlaying their bosoms and thighs were dancing. Or maybe they were walking, it was hard to tell. On the Plains, dancing was a lively affair where partners threw each other around. For these girls, as far as Dapper Jack could see, dancing consisted of small steps that shifted their hips back and forth. The movement was accentuated by the floating plumes attached to the curves of their bodies, and was not unpleasant. What would be better, of course, would be to seize one of them in his arms, and toss her back and forth in the Angiers style. To see if the feathers came off.

He shifted in his seat and picked up his glass of weak beer. Without turning his head away from the display on stage, he took a quick inventory of the room in his peripheral vision. Round tables grouped at regular intervals with male shapes hunched over them. Faces lit by flickering candles in red-painted glass holders. Dark drapes over the walls and gas lamps casting a warm glow from the corners. Typical for a nightclub of its class, Minnie’s was just slightly worn but not so shabby that they tried to keep everything hidden in complete darkness.

That was the manager’s doing, and now Jack turned his head to the left. Cal was standing watchfully at his usual spot at the end of the bar. His eyes jumped to the movement and his eyes met with Jack’s. He nodded slightly and Dapper Jack returned the gesture. Enough to acknowledge each other, but not so much as to call the manager over when he wasn’t needed. He now turned his gaze to the right, but his companions had not taken their eyes away from the performance.

On stage, the girls had joined together in a circle, linking arms and presenting their tailfeathers to the audience as they minced around in a slow circle. When they broke apart, there was a fifth girl in the center. As the dancers fanned out, she began to sing. Dapper Jack let her voice blend with the brassy sound of the band behind her and considered her figure instead. She was wearing fewer feathers, so it was easier to see. This pleasant occupation was disrupted by a man approaching the table. When the man’s trajectory became clear, Dapper Jack set down his glass and reached into his jacket. When he recognized the newcomer, he relaxed slightly. Though his gloved fingers had already half-removed a knife, he pulled out his cigarette case instead. He popped the slim silver case open as the man pulled a chair up to sit on Jack’s right. The others at the table glanced over but did not deem the newcomer more diverting than the show.

“Smoke?” Jack asked, letting his low voice slide under the sounds of the trumpets and saxophone to the man’s ear.

But the other man shook his head. “Mister Primrose,” he said in a hoarse whisper to the man who had been sitting next to Jack until the newcomer inserted himself in between. “I got news for you.”

Jimmy Primrose did not answer until the young would-be diva had finished her song. Only when the man had begun to fidget nervously under the combination of Dapper Jack’s attention and Jimmy Primrose’s lack of it did Jimmy turn to him. He gave the man a brief glance and then turned his gaze to a speck of dirt—so small as to possibly be imaginary—on the sleeve of his blood red suit jacket. He brushed it off. “Yes?” Another brief glance at the man, who was now withering in his seat. It was one of Jimmy’s usual tricks for making people feel insignificant and Jack could see it was working well. “What is it, Maxward?”

There was a brief contortion of Maxward’s scarred and stubbled throat, then he leaned forward. “I just heard this on my way home,” he said, “and I thought, there’s something Mister Primrose is gonna want to know.”

Dapper Jack flicked open his lighter. The brief flare of light showed a sheen of sweat on Maxward’s forehead. Poor Howie. It must be information of some moment or value, or else he wouldn’t have dared to disturb Jimmy Primrose while he was watching a show. But he was obviously reconsidering now whether he wanted to be the bearer of the news.