Nobody Bats a Thousand (8 page)

“Very fine, very fine, Maggie.
It’s
days like this when I can really feel the presence of the Lord. Anyone can pick a bright sunny day to feel the joy and splendor
of God
, but we must suffer to be rewarded.”

“Good, good. Well what I stopped for,
d
earie
was to ask you a question.” S
he held the picture directly in front of his face. “You see that clock on the mantel piece there? It seems it may have been left outside in an alley near Rogers and Olive, and someone might have mistakenly thought it was being thrown away. We’re trying to find it.”

The Monk stared closely at the photo.
“Ah, a pyramid.
You know the Sleeping Prophet predicted the secret to life would one day be found in the great Pyramids of Egypt. He was right about so many things. I don’t suppose we should automatically doubt him about that.”

“I suppose not.”

“Precise heights, precise angles, the great monuments in Egypt were used as a tomb, but they might have also been landmarks for beings of anot
her planet or another dimension.” H
e studied the picture for several more seconds. “That shape sure doesn’t make a very good looking clock though. Damn that thing is ugly.”

“We were just curious if you might know who might have picked it up.”

“Let’s see, Rogers and Olive? That would probably be Dirty Fr
ank, Renegade, or Red Hat Patty.” H
e rubbed his scruffy beard with his dirty hand. “Now Frank and Renegade go almost exclusively for direct recyclables, so Red Hat Patty would be my guess.”

“Do you know where we can find her?”

“She’s normally at
Uncle
Tom’s
at six a.m. for an eye opener, and she’ll be there at happy hour if she has a good day. She’s easy to spot. She’s a tiny woman always wearing some type of red hat. She’s been busted so many times she doesn’t like drinking on the street, bu
t I don’t mind. She drinks beer.” H
e smiled.  “So do
I
.”

Maggie nodded, and turned to Mary Jean. “Do you have a couple of bucks?” MJ checked her coin purse. She had exactly a couple of bucks that she handed to Maggie who passed them on to the Monk. “Well, thank you,
dearie
. I hope y
our information proves fruitful.” S
he started her truck. “Thanks again,
dearie
. You take care.”

“Maggie,” t
he Monk
said as he
grabbed Maggie’s door. “Every evening with the darkness of night I fear a change. I feel I might be possessed by demons.”

“Oh, that’s okay,
dearie
, we all feel Satan’s hand every so often. Just t
ry real hard to behave yourself.” S
he patted him on the forearm. “
Now you take care and stay warm.” S
he put the truck in gear, and pulled away.

“I guess hooking up with this Red Hat Patty is our next move,” Maggie said after they had driven a few blocks.

“Kind of a shot in the dark don’t you think?”

“If you got nothing better, you got to go with what you got,
dearie
.”

“ I’ll
go by
Uncle
Tom’s
later. Right now I’ve got to go change and get my job back. What a homecoming.  Well, at least things can’t get any worse.”

“That’s where you are wrong, dear. Things can always be worse.”

Mary Jean showered and washed her hair. Earlier she had narrowed it down to a few outfits, finally settling on a long black slip-dress with a short matching jacket. The black highlighting her tan but not setting it off so much that she looked like a total freak around all the pasty-faced white people who had been stuck in this town all winter. She didn’t feel the need to go all out just to let it be known she was back and needed to get on the schedule at work but felt it wouldn’t hurt to dazzle a little, and it actually felt good to dress up a bit after three months of either shorts and T-shirts or bathing suits. The inch-hell pumps, the only shoes that matched her dress, pinched after months of wearing only sandals, but civilization was all about pain, and since she had no alternative, she was once again ready to fulfill her obligation and take on her share of the load.

After applying a minimum amount of makeup and blow-drying her hair, she came out of the bathroom to see that Nadine, on the couch staring at the TV, hadn’t moved an inch in the last thirty minutes.

“Nadine, I thought you said you had a job.”

“Right now it’s just long days on Friday and Saturday until somebody quits and I can get more hours.” Nadine didn’t bother to unclasp her eyes from the screen. “I should probably be making more money, but at least this way I’m maximizing my cable TV dollar.” She looked at Mary Jean for just a second. “You know I just saw an interview with Christie Brinkley, you know the first supermodel, and she said when she first started out she had to do her own hair and makeup. Can you imagine that? I never realized she had it so tough.”

Mary Jean paused just long enough to realize that Nadine wasn’t kidding. She shook her head, got her keys and left.  Though she drove slowly, she was probably already downtown before Nadine had even noticed MJ was gone.

She parked in the back of the comedy club and went in through the kitchen. The first person she saw, the only person in the kitchen, was Manuel, an illegal who had been doing the dirty work at the club for as long as anyone could remember. He was at the big stainless steel sink finishing the dishes from lunch with his back to Mary Jean.

“Manuel Labor, how ya doing?”

He turned and smiled at Mary Jean, a smile that was beautiful despite a few missing teeth. “
Senorita
Maria
,
como
esta
?”

“Doing okay, Manuel, I just got back into town. Is
Senor
Burns
esta
aqui
?”

“
No
esta
aqui
por
mas
que
semana
.”

“So who’
s in
charge
?
Como
es
el
jefe
this
semana
?
”

“Dave.”

“You’
re
kidding
?”

“No,
senorita
.”
Manuel
shook
his
head and
rolled
his
eyes
.

“Is he here?”

Manuel
pointed
in
the
direction
of
the
bar.

“
Gracias
.”
Mary Jean smiled and patted Manuel on the back then walked toward the bar wondering what could
possibly be next. About a year before Dave had started as a bar back. He was
not a particularly good bar back, who eventually became a bartender. He was a short, fat Eskimo or Hawaiian, MJ was never sure and had never bothered to ask, who was now head bartender or manager or whatever title Gene Burns had bestowed before he hotfooted it out of town to spend some of the money which seemed to come to him
as easily as if it were falling from the sky.

Dave, the only person in the room, was on the phone behind the bar. He nodded at Mary Jean and then made her wait while he chatted on for another two or three minutes.

“Mary Jean. So you’re back.”

“Yeah, Dave, and I
was wanting
to get back to work as soon as possible.”

“Well, that’s going to be a bit of a problem.”

“A problem?”

“Yeah.
You see the boss has got himself another blonde, so now we’
re full up with
waitresses, sorry.”

“What do you mean, sorry? Where’s Gene? I want to talk to him. Get him on the phone.”

“He’s in Tahoe. Probably won’t be back for another week. But it won’t do you any good to talk to him. He specifically told me to tell you he couldn’t wait around for you to come back, but you’d be the first he’d call if anything came up. Like I said, he got himself another blonde.”

“I really don’t like the way that sounds, Dave. I wasn’t fucking somebody to work here. I was working here because I’m a damn good waitress, and I make the place a lot of money, and I’d be making Gene a lot more money if little jerks like you were more professional and attentive and knew how to fill a drink order.”

“Hey, I’m one of the best bartenders in town.”

“
In your dreams
you little idiot.
”
Mary Jean turned and headed for the front door. She had gotten the picture and saw no need to prolong the conversation.

“Anything I should tell Gene?” Dave shouted to Mary Jean’s back.

“Yeah, tell him this.” S
he held up her left hand in a fist except for a protruding middle digit but didn’t bother to turn around as she marched out the front door. Out on the sidewalk, she circled the building until she found the front seat of her car where she sat wanting to kill someone. Anyone handy would do.

But soon her anger became frustration that was swiftly converted into despair. Her life had suddenly hit that stumbling block, that fork in the road.
Now
it was decision time. What to do, what to do, whack a do. Alaska was still a possibility. She didn’t have much cash but had a car and a lot of furniture to sell. She had an old high school friend who lived near Homer and long ago issued an invitation to visit, and she knew a fisherman from Juneau or someplace who spent his winters in
Tiempo
. They had become pretty good friends. MJ thought she might have fucked him during an alcoholic blackout, but she wasn’t sure, so even if she had it didn’t count, and she could go and see him without any pressure to allegedly have sex again.

Looking out at the cold gray sky surrounding her, instantly realizing that moving to Alaska this time of year was more wacky than most of her wacky ideas, she felt a sudden surge of strength, of energy, born exclusively from her deep well of Irish pigheadedness. All her recent setbacks weren’t going to beat
her
. After starting her car she headed west. First she stopped at a Burger King just to use their bathroom to apply a little lipstick and mascara and to brush out her hair; then she drove another half mile to the parking lot of
Danny’s
, a little bar and restaurant she hadn’t set foot in for over a year.

She took off her jacket and exposed her tan shoulders to the cold for the short walk from her car to the lounge. She’d known Danny casually for years from around town. She spotted him immediately after she entered the bar. He was stuffed into a booth with two other large
gumbas
, meeting together in what looked like a scene from a low-budget remake of the
Godfather
. MJ walked directly to where they were sitting.

“Hi Danny,” s
he flashed one of her brilliant smiles.

Danny looked up.
“Mary Jean, how ya doing, doll?”
He turned to his cohorts. “
Fellas
, this is Mary Jean, she used to be the best-looking cocktail waitress in town.”

MJ somehow held her smile basically
intact
, partly because she knew Danny
was
actually trying to compliment her, but mostly because she wanted something.

“So what are you up to, doll?  Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, Danny. Actually, I just got back from a vacation in Mexico, and now I’m looking for a job.”

“I thought you were working for Burns at the comedy place.”

“Time for a change.
You wouldn’t have anything, or k
now about anything would you?” S
he continued to smile.

“Actually I do need a girl for three nights a week.
Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, but they are pretty slow nights except for Monday football nights, and football season is over.”

“I’ll take ‘em. When do I start?”

“Tonight.”
H
e shrugged.  “Just come in at six and check with Chester, the bartender, he’ll set you up. Wear
whatever,
I’ll trust your good taste, doll.”  

“Thanks, Danny.” MJ passed around a final, parting smile before she strolled away and hit the road.

Back at the garage apartment, Nadine was still on the couch focused on the TV.
“Oprah’s book club.”
She turned to Mary Jean for just a second.

“Oh?  So what’s the latest best-selling romantic fantasy?”

“24.95.”