I don’t know if there was a fall moon out or not, but by ten o’clock, the place had turned into a zoo. The atmosphere had become charged with tension, and the bar was so crowded, I could barely keep up with the customers’ demands. It seemed that everyone had gotten thirsty at the same time, and patrons were yelling for service. It was a pain in the ass, hearing patrons shouting, “Hey, Jag” or “bartender” and some of them mistakenly called me, “Jack.”
Their annoying voices along with the loud music blaring from the touch-screen jukebox, boisterous conversations, and heated arguments had my head pounding. I’d tended bar at countless frat parties, college soirees and a couple of bachelor parties, but doing it as an occupation was a lot more overwhelming than I’d expected.
There was a pool of vomit in the men’s room that I refused to clean. I wished I could identify the culprit; I would have tossed his no-liquor-holding ass out of here without hesitation. What sort of lowlife scumbag would spill his guts on the floor? Seriously, how hard is it to aim for the fucking toilet?
Adding to the chaotic atmosphere, a group of college boys were drunkenly cheering each other on as they took turns guzzling down a yard of ale. I had to get valid ID from each of them and a hundred-dollar deposit before handing over the three-foot-long glasses filled with draft beer.
A scholarly-looking, gray-haired couple had entered The Dive carrying briefcases earlier in the evening, but after one drink too many, they began to unravel somewhat, and had begun staggering around, approaching random patrons and inviting them to join them back at their hotel. From what I could tell, the customers’ reactions ran the range from amused to openly disgusted. Some customers looked at me as if expecting me to handle the situation. As far as I knew, it wasn’t my job to tell the old fogies what they could and couldn’t say. Besides, they were extravagant tippers.
On my way to the stockroom to get a case of beer, I overheard the bikers exchanging contentious words with some corner boys who wanted to shoot pool.
“How longy’all gon’ be tying up the tables?” asked one of the young thugs.
“All night!” bellowed a biker.
“All night! Yo, y’all can’t monopolize both tables. You gotta give up one of ’em.”
“This is our monthly tournament; we’re using both tables, so get lost.”
“Yo, where’s Sharif at? I’m about to start spazzin’ out on these bikers.”
“Sharif doesn’t work here anymore; take your problems to Jag, the new bartender.”
Having overheard the exchange, I groaned at the prospect of having to play mediator between disgruntled bikers and neighborhood thugs.
On my way back to the bar, Rat-Face came slinking out of the Ladies Room. “Hey, Jaguar,” she said in a slurred voice. “If I wasn’t with him..She nodded toward the area where Buddha sat and giggled maliciously. “If I wasn’t getting with the porn star, I’d fuck the shit out of you right on top of the bar.” She gave a smirking smile.
Rat-Face had taken me off-guard with her bold proposal. Big ass or not, I didn’t like her, and I wasn’t interested in the least. “Yeah, some other time, I guess,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Without a doubt. Mmm-hmm. I want some of that,” she said leeringly as she eyeballed my crotch. I could feel my dick beginning to shrivel in retreat. She proceeded to join Buddha, and I made my way behind the bar. Feeling perplexed and somewhat violated, I began filling the cooler with Budweiser.
“Bartender,” someone called. I turned around and faced a chubby Ivy Leaguer. “Somebody puked out their guts in the restroom,” he complained with his mouth turned down in repugnance.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, my face scrunched in revulsion. “Maintenance will be here soon,” I lied and stole a glance at the clock. It was only ten-twenty, and the janitor didn’t begin his four-hour shift until midnight. Meanwhile, the
old couple was becoming a public nuisance, going from one customer to the next, still trying to get someone interested in a menage a trois. The last thing I felt like doing was giving the horny, old fogies a stem talking to. And my feet, hands, and back had started bothering me from all the constant walking, bending, and pouring drinks. Additionally, the air conditioning didn’t seem to be doing much and it was too hot for me to exert the energy required to physically throw them out.
The Dive needed a couple extra bartenders, a bouncer, and a cleaning person that worked throughout the shift.
Sharif called to check on me while I was in the midst of making strawberry daiquiris for a pair of hot twins that were celebrating their birthday. As much as I detested fooling with that blender, the girls were eye candy, reminding me of my long-time fantasy of a menage with identical twins.
“What’s up, man?” I said over the whir of the blender and the cacophony of background noise.
“It sounds busy; you all right?”
“I’m good, man. I’m holding it down.” If he’d called a half-hour ago, he would have caught me in a foul mood, but I was feeling a lot better, so I didn’t complain.
“Just wanted to give you a heads-up, the owner is gonna send someone over around closing time to count your register.”
“Who’s he sending?”
“Not sure. Probably Harvey. You’ll recognize him easily.
Light-sldnned dude, always dressed in a suit and bow tie. He tries to front like he’s the boss, but he’s nothing more than a flunky.”
“All right. I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, cutting a lustful eye at the twins and scheming on a way to get both of them back to my hotel room. “Yo, thanks again for putting me on with this gig,” I said to Sharif before hanging up.
I placed the frozen drinks in front of the twins. They took sips of the pink-colored libation that reminded me of a 7-Eleven Slurpee. Both girls smiled and gave the “thumbs-up” sign.
“Happy Birthday, ladies; your drinks are on me, tonight.” I flashed a smile and hoped my charm, good looks, and generosity would score some points with them.
“Thank you,” the sisters said, and then squealed in unison as if I’d bestowed them with keys to matching, exotic cars.
“You must be new here; we’ve never seen you before. Hope you’re not just Ailing in for the night; you’re too cute for us to let you get away,” said the frisky sister, whom I assumed was the dominant twin.
“No, I’m not filling in. I’m here for the summer.”
“Oh, good. Hey, why don’t you give me a birthday thrill and unbutton a few of those buttons?” said the other twin, who apparently was as feisty as her sister. Guess there didn’t necessarily have to be a dominant twin, as I’d heard.
“As stufly as it is in here, you should open up your shirt
so that smooth, chocolate skin can breathe.” The girls slapped hands and laughed.
“I’m Najah and this is my sister, Nona. And you are..
“Jaguar. Friends call me Jag.”
“Hi, Jag!” they said at the same time, both wearing identical, teasing grins, and leading me to believe that my cherished, sexual fantasy was within the realm of possibility.
“Jaguar is an unusual name. Is that your fake, bartender name or is it on your birth certificate?” Najah inquired. She lifted the straw from her drink, and licked the frosty- pink end of the straw.
“Jaguar’s on my birth certificate,” I said in as calm a voice as I could manage, considering that she had my dick throbbing each time her tongue flicked out of her mouth.
“What’s your last name?” Nona wanted to know.
“Jackson.” Some people don’t like giving out their government name, but I had nothing to hide.
“Jaguar Jackson. Sounds like a porn-star name.”
When the word “porn” entered the conversation, I immediately shot a look down the end of the bar where Buddha had been sitting, but he and Rat-Face had gone. I hoped they were gone. I didn’t want Rat-Face to come scurrying out of some comer at closing time, demanding to ride my dick.
“Can I get a birthday cherry in my drink?” Nona asked.
I immediately obliged, dropping three Maraschino cherries
into the daiquiri. Holding the stem, she pulled one of the cherries from her drink and placed it on her tongue. Then she seductively puckered her lips around the cherry, sucking it for a few seconds, and then pulling it out of her mouth, and began the process all over again. Watching a woman do anything that involves the usage of her lips and tongue gives me freaky images of fellatio and I automatically want to get my dick sucked.
Tauntingly, Nona repeated the dick-teasing demonstration until I winced from the desire to stick my dick into something wet, like her mouth or her sister’s pussy.
Closing time couldn’t come soon enough. I was physically attracted to the twins and they were obviously feeling the same. If Najah and Nona were dressed in the same outfit, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart, and I wondered if I’d be able to distinguish one from the other once I had their naked asses in bed.
I was about to suggest we continue the birthday celebration at my hotel when some clown bull carrying a beer in one hand and a glass of Hennessy in the other, sidled up to Nona and started busting it up. I heard him introduce himself as Lamario. Lamariol What kind of a fucked-up name is that? She tossed him a smile, welcoming the intrusion. Dude was in violation and I felt like eighty- sixing his ass for that stupid name and for interfering with my fantasy.
Najah finished her drink and said, “I’ll have another.”
“Me too,” Nona chirped in.
Call me petty, but I didn’t want to give Nona any more drinks. I felt like I had the right to withdraw my offer of buying her drinks all night. I felt like suggesting that since Lamario was taking up all her time, he should have been paying for her drinks. Not wanting to appear childish, I kept my petulant thoughts to myself.
I made another batch of the pink slush and begrudgingly set Nona’s drink in front of her. It’s a wonder smoke didn’t blow out of my nostrils when she had the audacity to offer Lamario her glass, saying, “Taste it; it’s delicious.”
To his credit, he declined. “Nah, I’m good,” he said frowning at the slushy concoction before taking a healthy swig of Henny that he chased down with beer.
“Are you from Philly, Jag?” Najah asked, pulling my attention away from her sister and Lamario.
“Yeah, I’m originally from here,” I muttered sullenly, unable to adjust my bad attitude.
“What part of Philly?”
“The bottom.”
“Oh.” There wasn’t much else for her to say about the bottom, being that it was such a bad part of town.
The natives were getting restless, and so I returned to my bartending duties. Whenever there was a lull, I halfheartedly continued my conversation with Najah. Don’t get me wrong, Najah was the business, but I had my heart set on getting with both her and her sister, and it had seemed possible until Lamario interfered with my plans.
Najah was starting to feel the liquor; I could tell by
the way she kept touching me. Each time I stopped to chat with her, she would reach out and caress the top of my hand or run a finger over the veins in my arm.
Sitting next to her, Nona was also feeling a pleasant buzz. Lamario was sitting at the bar with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. I looked down and noticed that Nona was running her hand over the bulge in the front of his pants.
“We should take this outside,” he said dreamily, in a whispered voice that he thought was confidential, but both Najah and I had overheard.
“Outside...where?” Nona asked.
“My car...in the lot.”
“Okay,” Nona readily agreed, and then rose from the barstool.
Najah grasped her sister’s wrist. “Nona, I know you’re not going anywhere with him!”
“You can come, too!” Lamario said, cutting his eye at me and laughing, as if he and I were in on a private joke. I mean-mugged him. The shit wasn’t funny. This bozo had invaded the territory that I had already pissed on, stole one of my chicks, and was now plotting on the other one. Pussy can turn a civilized man into a savage, and I probably would have swung on that bull if Najah had decided to take him up on his offer. But unlike her sister, Najah was loyal.
“My place or yours?” she said with a soft smile when I placed her third drink in front of her.
“Whichever is closest? I’m staying at a hotel near the airport; what about you?”
“Fm much closer—Powelton Village.”
“Sounds good ” I said without much enthusiasm. I wasn’t all that interested anymore, but I’d probably have a change of heart by closing time.
Najah scrawled her address and phone number on the back of a business card that promoted a hair salon. “Drop by when you get off. I have to get my sister; have to make sure she didn’t run off with a serial killer.” She pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen. “Meet me at the car, Nona,” Najah said firmly. Maybe Najah was the dominant twin, after all. And maybe there was still a chance for me to get with both sisters. But after some thought, I had to ask myself if I really wanted to indulge in Lamario’s sloppy seconds. Hell no!
PRESENT DAY
B y age twenty-one, my relationship with my mother had completely dissolved. Alcohol consumed her life and she had abandoned her parental duties a long time ago. Now-adays, she didn’t have a stable environment; she drifted around and only contacted me when she needed money.
I met with her secretly and winced when I saw how haggard and disheveled she’d become; she was nothing like the beautiful woman she’d once been.
“What do you want?” I asked, looking over my shoulder, afraid that Mr. Lord or one of his employees had followed me.
“I got kicked out of the place on Larchwood Avenue, and now I’m ready to get myself together. I’m going into a treatment center, upstate. The next time you see me. I’ll be clean and sober.”
I’d heard that before. Mr. Lord had sent her to six or seven treatment centers, but since she’d finally taken
the initiative to get help on her own, I hoped that this time the treatment would work. I shoved six hundred dollars into her hand. “You can’t go on like this; you look horrible and you reek of alcohol,” I scolded.
“I said I’m going to get treatment. Why do you always have to act so high and mighty?” she said, sticking the money inside a pocket. “He always tried to make you think that you were better than me, but you’re not,” she spat. “He used me from the very beginning, pretending to be interested in me so he could get to my Uttle girl.”
“You should be grateful that he intervened and helped you raise me. Had it not been for Mr. Lord, I wouldn’t be the well-bred young woman that I am.”
My mother sneered at me. “You think you’re on his level? Ha! That’s a laugh. He’s a sick man, you know. He’s a member of a secret society that enjoys hurting and degrading people.”
“Mr. Lord would never hurt me. He disciplines me when I require it, but he loves me.”
“Oh, he’s disciplining you, now? In other words, he finally got around to whipping your behind?”
“Because he loves me and wants what’s best for me!”
“You better get away from that man, Fonia. Bringing him into our lives was the biggest mistake I ever made. And I took his abuse in exchange for what I thought would be a better life, but I paid a high price for that upgrade. You need to get away from him before you end up being a drunk like me.”
I scowled in repugnance at the very thought of ending
up like my mother. “Mr. Lord loves me, Mommy; he’s going to marry me one day.”
“Oh, he loves you all right. He loves what he’s turned you into. But when he’s ready to settle down, it won’t be with you. He’s going to marry a society girl. He’ll keep you on the side until he gets tired of you, and then he’ll throw you out to the wolves, the way he did me.”
“You became a hopeless alcohoHc. He had no choice but to throw you out; he was afraid that you were setting a terrible example for me. He didn’t want your bad influence to rub off on me.”
“Well, who do you think turned me into a drunk? Your precious Mr. Lord, that’s who!”
“He didn’t put the bottle up to your mouth; you did.”
“It was the only way I could escape from the sick things he did to me—”
“What sick things? He only spanked you when you deserved it,” I blurted, defending Mr. Lord.
“He did more than that. He forced me to go to secret parties once a month. And the things that he and his friends did to me at those parties are too disgusting to think about without needing a drink.”
“What secret parties? You’re drunk right now, and you’re talking nonsense.”
“Drunk mind, sober tongue. Isn’t that what they say?” She laughed bitterly. “Most of the guests at those parties enjoyed being humiliated, beaten, and urinated on, but not me. I hated all of it.”
Urinated on? Clearly, my mother had lost her mind.
Then she gazed at me and I saw lucidity and for a brief moment, and I also saw a glimmer of a mother’s love in her eyes. “Don’t let him take you to any of those parties, Fonia. Once that happens, you’ll slowly start losing your mind.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You need help. Mommy, and I hope the treatment will work this time around,” I said sincerely. “But you really have to stop contacting me. You know I’m not allowed to communicate with you.”
“Aren’t you going to help me get on my feet when I get out of the facility?”
“No, I can’t. You’re on your own now. Please don’t contact me again.”
A smirk formed on her lips. “When he gets tired of you and gets himself a new family, you’re going to end up exactly like me.”
Driving the Lexus that Mr. Lord has given me for my twenty-first birthday, I sped through traffic lights trying to get home. I was only supposed to leave the house to run errands. I had no idea how I would explain the mileage on the odometer, which he checked regularly. I decided to shop for groceries at Whole Foods in Wynnewood. There was a Whole Foods that was closer to our home, but it didn’t carry the special caviar that Mr. Lord enjoyed. Driving to Wynnewood would explain the extra mileage.
WTien I arrived home, I was surprised to find his car
in the driveway, but was relieved that I’d had the insight to come up with a good excuse. Carrying a Whole Foods shopping bag, I entered the house.
Mr. Lord was in his office, and I immediately went to greet him.
“I didn’t know we needed groceries,” he said. He kept tabs on every item in the house and knew which groceries needed to be replenished.
“I wanted to surprise you with one of your favorites.”
“And what might that be?” he asked, eyeing the bag suspiciously.
“Your favorite caviar,” I said, reaching into*the bag to show him proof. “I drove all the way to Wynnewood to get it.”
“Put it away, and then come have a seat. I want to talk to you.” His tone was stern.
I went to the kitchen, wondering if he somehow knew that I’d been communicating with my mother.
In his office, I stood with my hands folded in front of me, bracing myself for a scolding.
“There’s no easy way to tell you this, Fonia...”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m getting married.”
Shocked and devastated, I sank into the chair across from his desk. Unable to believe what I’d heard, I could hardly breathe.
“I’ve been backed into a corner financially and the only way to survive is to join forces with a very powerful
family. My marriage will be nothing more than a business arrangement, and I expect the arrangement between you and me to continue.”
The room was starting to spin; this couldn’t be happening. My mother’s prediction was coming true, and my worst fear was being realized. Mr. Lord was getting himself a new family. He was leaving me. “How can we continue if you’re getting married?” I asked, feeling dazed.
“Leave that up to me. My wedding is in three months.”
“Who’s the lucky woman?” I asked with bitter tears filling my eyes.
“Her name is Sylvia Chessman. She lives with her family in Phoenix, Arizona. The ceremony will take place there, and of course. I’d love for you to be there, but my fiancee wouldn’t understand our special relationship.
“She wants to honeymoon in Bermuda for a week, and I’ve agreed, but I can’t have you out of my sight and on your own for that length of time. Your passport is up-to-date and I’m going to book a flight for you from Philadelphia to Bermuda on my wedding day. I’ll reserve a suite in the same hotel as Sylvia and me.”
My head was spinning with a million questions that I was afraid to ask for fear of appearing impudent.
Despite the fact that my world had collapsed around me, I uttered, “All right,” responding as obediently as ever, while hoping with all my heart that he was only joking. It had to be some sort of test to see if I’d stick with him through the most bizarre circumstances.
“You’re pouting, and that’s unbecoming,” Mr. Lord chastised. “You’re not a child anymore; surely you realized that sooner or later I’d marry a worthy young lady.”
“I don’t understand why you’re not marrying me. I did everything you ever asked; I thought I made you happy. Please don’t marry her, Mr. Lord. I’ll correct whatever mistakes I’ve made. I can make myself worthy if you give me a chance.” My words came out in short, frantic bursts.
“You did nothing wrong. My marriage to Sylvia is a marriage of convenience...nothing more.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to be spending a lot of time flying back and forth to Phoenix for the next few months. In fact. I’m flying out tonight. But I’m going to squeeze in some time to buy you a new wardrobe for the Bermuda honeymoon.” He gave me a smile, but I couldn’t return it. Profound pain enveloped my heart, and all I could do was stare at him through teary eyes.
“Fonia,” he said with patience in his voice. “We’ve never needed a piece of paper to define our relationship, have we?”
“No.”
“And we don’t need one now. Sylvia will be my wife in the eyes of the law, but you’re the wife of my heart. Sylvia nor any other woman could ever please me the way you do. I want you to think of the trip to Bermuda as our honeymoon. Reality is not always what it appears to be. People see what they want to see. Do you understand?”
“No, Mr. Lord, I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
He sighed and then gave me a patient smile. “When Sylvia and I leave for Bermuda, the guests at our wedding will see newlyweds, happily beginning a new life together, but in reality I’ll be actually starting a new life with you. Are you ready to finally give yourself to me completely?”
“Of course. I’ve been waiting to give myself to you since I was eighteen.”
“Your wish will soon come true. WTien we return from Bermuda, you won’t be a virgin anymore. I’ve devoted years to molding you into a decent and malleable young woman, and I can’t think of a better time to deflower you than on our honeymoon.”
'“Why do we have to wait? I’m ready now.” It was true; I yearned for a deeper level of intimacy. For years I had been experiencing strong sexual desires that weren’t being met. At night, I often touched myself, imagining that Mr. Lord was making love to me in a traditional way... penetrating me with his penis instead of his finger.
“What do you mean, you’re ready now? Do you know how disgusting and perverted you sound? Don’t you dare question my decision to wait another three months.” His voice shook with rage and he pointed his finger at me angrily. “I tried to raise you to be decent and pure, but you’re no better than your mother. You’re nothing but a whore.”
I swallowed guiltily.
“If you don’t think you’re capable of waiting until my
wedding night, then feel free to walk away from the life I’ve provided for you.”
“I can’t walk away. You are my life, Mr. Lord.”
“Then don’t disagree with me.”
“I overstepped my boundaries, and I won’t do it again.”
He shook his head regretfully. “Maybe it’s not a good idea to keep you in my life.”
“I’m sorry. Please take me with you on your honeymoon. I mean.. .our honeymoon.” I felt horrible. Mr. Lord rarely lost his temper with me, and I wanted to be back on his good side. I gave a half-hearted smile. “I’d be happy and honored to give you my virginity on your wedding night.”
“Do you mean that or are speaking words that you think I want to hear?”
“I mean it with all my heart. Your pleasure is my pleasure, Mr. Lord.”
“That’s my good girl.” He stood up and opened his arms. I rushed into them, basking in the reward of his affection and warmth. “I won’t forsake you, Fonia. I’m aware that you can’t exist without my guidance.”
Choking up, I nodded my head in agreement. “I don’t want to exist without your guidance. I’m nothing without you. The thought of losing you scares me.”
“You’re not going to lose me. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to figure out a way to work you into my married life. I could move you in under the guise of being part of the cleaning staff...or you could be Sylvia’s personal maid.”
I gasped inside. But when he began to caress my face, making me feel warm and loved, I realized I would do anything to be close to him. I’d even move into his home and become his wife’s maid.
“On second thought, moving you in my home may not be a good idea. Sylvia’s a smart girl and she’d catch on.” He looked off in thought. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do about you, Fonia, but whatever I decide, you’ll have to trust that I know what’s best for you.”
“I do trust you, Mr. Lord,” I said. But inside I was terrified. I felt as if I’d already lost him. He was going to throw me to the wolves, like my mother had prophesied.