Rescue Me

“Some. I’m okay, though.” Gritting my teeth, I smiled for show.

“Look, I know the lunch crowd around here doesn’t tip for shit, and I know you’re a dancer and all.”

I was a dancer. I used to be happy. Heck, I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t going to clarify that when I barely got the swing back into my hips.

“I’ll manage.”

Chuck dinged the bell, and I went to collect my plate for a counter customer, glad it wasn’t a large tray of heavy food I still couldn’t handle on my own.

“Here.” Denise ripped off a ticket from her waitressing book, handing it to me.

“What’s this?” Flipping it over, I saw that she scribbled the number to a place called Dollhouse. I’d heard vague rumors about it from my auditions. It was a place girls who didn’t make it sometimes went to earn quick cash. I shivered.

“Listen, sometimes the money gets tight and dancing a few hours on a Saturday night makes up for the coffee stains and sticky counters. Take it or leave it.” She brushed past me, setting her plates down at a table of construction workers on break.

I thought about it, slipping the paper into my apron. I wanted to fix my own problems without having to run away. I wanted to dance again when the fear stopped controlling me. Attempting to rip the Band-Aid off my warring anxiety, I decided to call on my break and see what all the fuss was about.

3

Joey

“Joey, come on, we’re gonna be late!” My brother grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pushed me out the door to the waiting rented SUV he conned me into driving for the night. The air was crisp, waiting to snow, and it was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, as close to amateur night as we could get for this bachelor party.

“Relax, papi.” I shrugged him off and slid inside checking my mirrors before pulling out onto the roadway.

My brother Emmanuel tried passing me an open container of alcohol. “Don’t be an idiot, Manny.” I pushed it back glaring at him. He shrugged in that annoying way older brothers do before capping the top. I wasn’t about to get in trouble for anyone tonight.

“We just have to grab Julio, Brendan, and Orson.” My brother smiled. This was all his idea to go to some seedy strip joint for Julio’s bachelor party. I was just the tagalong driver, taking off my usual nightshift for this. I figured Hudson owed me and part of me was happy to hear the chief chew his ass out after the past few weeks. Honestly, I would have preferred to be working instead of being the designated babysitter for my brother’s friends, but here we were.

A night of drinking, gambling, and women would have been fun, but I had to put up with these guys in exchange. I loved my brother, but I couldn’t afford to get caught up in shit given my job, which I valued above all else.

We headed to a shithole area of the neighborhood and met up with some other guys who were invited to the wedding. There were a lot of bro hugs and drinks poured from the bar. Emmanuel was already two drinks ahead of me and pounding down a third.

“Hey, Manny, take it easy, or are you planning on going home early? Mami give you a curfew?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Joey.”

We teased each other and ordered some shots for Julio, who was currently draped over two scantily clad women wearing cheap stilettos and thongs.

“How’s work going for you?”

We leaned over the bar, and I contemplated what I might say. Manny wanted to know about t

he fun stuff, but that wasn’t why I did the job.

“I like it. My chief is a good guy. My lieutenant is an asshole, but someone has to be. It’s more than just writing parking tickets.”

Manny nodded, sipping his drink slowly.

I thought about how busy I had been on this night shift rotation. Mike and I had brought in a mugger from the park thanks to Mr. Walker, our resident park dweller, giving us the heads-up. Some said he was crazy, like my lieutenant, but I’d rather follow a lead than do nothing. It felt good to get people like that off the street, away from terrorizing innocent people.

“Hey, looks like the show is starting.” Manny pointed to the guys, who pulled Julio into a VIP lounge that looked over the club. The place was a dive between the cheesy porn music, which I guess was expected at a club, poor stage lighting to hide the dancers’ ages or flaws, and the strong drinks to encourage more money spent.

“Have a seat, the girls are coming up.”

All the guys sat on couches that looked tainted, and I took up my spot against the wall, sipping my drink, wishing we could have bar hopped and ended up at the Cask and Barrel or somewhere closer to home that wasn’t going to require a full decontamination. Several dancers and bottles of liquor later, I was more than ready to bounce.

“Hey, pretty thing, come over here.”