IFFY FICTION

Gus settled into his favorite armchair, dark-red and stained with use. He leaned his cane against the table and looked around the room, waiting. 

His old eyes weren’t as sharp as they once were, but he always enjoyed coming in from a bright morning and watching the colorful lights playing over the empty tables and chairs. By noon they would be swarming with men, hungry for $2.99 steak and fries and other carnal attractions.

Sandy laid a napkin in front of him and set his iced tea on it. He tore open a packet of Sweet-N-Low with palsied hands and stirred it into the one cup he would allow himself. His bladder couldn’t handle more. 

“You having the usual, hun?”

“You know it,” he said, giving her a wink.

As Sandy wandered off to put his order in at the bar, the background music lowered and Scotty’s voice came through the speakers.

“It’s a beautiful day outside, an even more beautiful day inside today at Sweetie’s. We’ve got our $2.99 steak and fries special, and the most beautiful ladies in Austin. Get your hands together, gentlemen, for our first up on the main stage, the gorgeous, Arianna.”

Gus chuckled to himself. Every morning the DJ opened with the same lines, though Gus guessed it didn’t matter what he said until the clientele started streaming in. 

The lights switched to the red and blue mix she always used, and Arianna emerged from behind the curtain. She danced as though the room was full, and the men were lining up around the stage, dollars in hand. Gus knew she treated it like a warm-up for the day. Arianna, or Shannon as Gus preferred to call her, was always first in because she left early to pick her son up from school. Arianna looked over at Gus, and gave him a wave. She used to sit with him, years ago, but now they just maintained a distant acquaintance. 

The suit shirted men began to fill the tables by the time Sandy delivered his patty melt. Gus ate slowly, watching the freshly showered girls trickle in with their wet hair, duffle bags, and makeup cases. As he chewed, he tried to summon the memory of how patty melts had tasted when he was young. The memory was not as good as the real thing, but it sufficed. 

Gus had just drained his iced tea, his lunch pushed to the other side of the table, half eaten, when the girls started coming out to walk the floor, transformed by their makeup and platform heels. 

When he saw Ashlyn walk out of the dressing room, Gus popped a Certs into his mouth, and wiped his face for good measure. He could only call her by ‘Ashlyn’. She had only been “his girl” for a couple of weeks, and she hadn’t permitted him beyond the stagename that all the others got. But they were getting close.

“Good morning, Gus.” Her long, red hair fell into his face as she leaned down to hug him, wafting Burnt Vanilla Sugar body spray into his face. He breathed deeply.

“Good morning, darlin’. Have a seat.” Gus patted his thigh, and Ashlyn lowered herself onto his lap. He put his hand on her leg to enjoy the feeling of her milky, young skin, and felt her muscle tight and trembling.

“I can handle your weight. I may be old, but I’m still strong.”

She gave his bicep a squeeze. “I know you are, hun,” she said and smiled, revealing the crooked front tooth that he found so endearing. 

Ashlyn chatted with him for a polite three songs before asking him if he was ready for a dance. 

“Actually, before we do that, I have something for you.” Gus reached down to the floor, hand groping beneath his chair. Ashlyn was just about to offer to help him, when he pulled out a pink gift bag and sat it on her lap. 

“Oh, Gus, you shouldn’t have.” Under the tissue paper, she found a pretty candle in a golden mercury glass votive. She lifted it to her nose. “Burnt Vanilla Sugar. You remembered my favorite scent.”

“Got one for myself too. I’m gonna light it tonight. I love the fragrance.”

She leaned toward him and pressed her glossy lips to his cheek. “Thank you so much.”

Gus smiled at her, feeling the leg upon which she had been sitting beginning to quiver. “What do you say we have those dances now?”

Shelly. Gus rolled the name around in his mouth like a pearl. She had finally given him her real name. He thought of seashores, wild tides, and a girl with long red hair. He muttered “Shelly” to himself during the bus ride home. He sang it to his old chihuahua, Buster, as he greeted him with a weakly wagging tail at the door of his apartment. He whispered it as he struck a match to light the Burnt Vanilla Sugar candle on his kitchen counter. 

Shelly had a similar sound to Nelly, which was the name that Helen had hated to be called. Helen with the strawberry blond hair and the long slender fingers, one upon which she wore the simple golden band she had chosen. Imagine that. Of all the rings she could have picked, she picked that one. There had never been another like her.

He looked at his own naked hand, blotched, an angry bruise spread out beneath his paper skin. Not for the first time he told himself that he was glad. Glad that he had never had to see her like this. She was plucked and preserved, a perfect peach in his mind’s eye, while he was left to rot on the branch.

Gus inhaled the candle’s perfume. Shelly. She was a sweet girl. 

He looked over at the dog who was curled up in his spot on the back of Gus’s recliner. “What do you think, Buster? Eighty years old.”

Buster opened an eye at the sound of his name, but didn’t stir.

“Well, I guess I should make a wish.” Leaning on his cane, Gus put his face close to the candle, closed his eyes, and blew.