32


The Elk's Mouth Bat and Grill was a place out on the highway with more class than Mattfield was used to. It relied on highway traffic and put a couple too many cents on the drinks to keep out the dregs of society. That was probably why the place didn’t do a lot of business.

The owner, Elk, was a stubborn son of a bitch who never admitted he was wrong. When the sign people called him up to tell him he'd spelt the name of the bar wrong on the paper, he cursed 'em out and told them he should know how to spell the name of his own goddam bar, and they should just get on with making it, and shut the hell up. That's how the The Elk's Mouth Bar and Grill got to be called The Elk's Mouth Bat and Grill. Most folks was used to it now.

Weren't never any of the Roundly's morons in there, except for two. One was Snowy the accountant. The other was his boss, Desire. Desire? That's a laugh. There weren't never nothing 'desirous' about the woman. She'd been soaking her insides with gin since she was fourteen, so you can imagine. Her nose was the shape and colour of a button tomato. Elk and the short order cook called her Rudolph, not to her nose of course.

But she sure helped keep The Elk's Mouth open. Elk was more'n happy to help her spend her old man's money. The only reason he didn’t date her was cause he feared she'd stop spending and start drinking for free. That would of wiped him out. And there wouldn't be 'special' nights like tonight.

She'd booked a table at the back, like anyone else might of wanted it. He laid on one hell of a feast and wasn't charging her the full hog. If things went well tonight, he figured he could afford the jukebox he'd dreamed of. Tonight they was all hoping she could sell off the land that used to be under Roundly's factory.

Desire had never really forgiven the Japs for Pearl Harbor even though she'd been in a gin coma when it happened. But she'd sure read about it after. She figured any country sneaky enough to creep in and blow up a navy without telling no one, wasn't to be trusted in business. So she didn’t have no conscience at all about lying to the Jap auto people when they wrote and inquired about her land.

She'd told 'em the people of Mattfield would be delighted to have a Toyota Plant in their midst, and relish the opportunity of culturally integrating with the three hundred Japanese technicians that'd come with it. She sent 'em fifty-year old studies of the site that was done before the surrounding land started sliding. Most of the houses was a yard closer to the plant than when they was built. Them Toyota people wouldn't have to walk to work, just ride their houses down there.

Desire didn't see it was her place to tell the nips that. They'd find out soon enough. Desire saw herself as a mature business woman. It hadn't taken her long to run Roundly's into the ground. But she blamed the world downturn in pool playing, not herself. The factory had been rooted in the past. This was her chance to get some collateral and set herself up in a more seventies kind of business. She was planning to go technical. She had her heart set on typewriters.

There was a danged foolish notion going around at the time that computers would be taking over from the sturdy typewriter. She was one of the few people at the time who could see how soon that fad would die out. Shit, how the hell could normal folks afford one of them big brain boxes or be smart enough to use it? Yet everyone was talking about how businesses was all gonna get computerated. Typewriter companies would panic sell and switch to computers.

That's where Desire come in. If someone had a little capital they could stock up on typewriters and bide their time till the computer frenzy fizzled itself out. It was so obvious she couldn't understand how no one else had thought of it. But foresight was what showed the difference between a gambler and a lady entrepreneur.

Japan was her chance. She had a high power meeting tonight with Miss Ajinomoto, the ex-ecutive secretary of the ex-ecutive director of Toyota. As Desire's house was kind'a neglected, and her office was kind'a burnt down, the Elk's Mouth was the only place she could meet and give a good impression.

When the Jap arrived, Desire had already gotten through half a bottle of gin for Dutch courage. She was at her most charming. Miss Ajinomoto was right on time and she bowed when Desire introduced herself. She was a little woman in a grey suit and her hair was all piled up on her head like a soft black ice cream cone swirl. She wore a load of makeup and thick glasses that made her eyes look bigger than they probably was.

Desire yelled at her, "DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?"

Miss Ajinomoto yelled back, "YES, A RITTLE BIT."

There was only two other customers in The Mouth and they was both at the bar. One was a big old guy in a rug. If it had been green it would of looked like a tuft of grass. He smiled a near perfect set of dentures at the two broads as they walked past and wondered why they was yelling at each other.

Elk had set up the rear table real pretty, silver service and all. Miss Ajinomoto touched the tablecloth like she'd never seen one before.

"This is most rubbery."

"It is? I'm sorry."

"No, rubbery is good. Is like, your face is rubbery too." Desire was gonna smack her one till she realized the woman had a speech defect.

"OK, I get it. Thanks." Elk brought over a plate of entrée spring rolls he'd defrosted specially in honor of this visit.He leaned over the Jap.

"Have a roll. They're Asian." Desire was delighted when the visitor took a bite and smiled.

"You see? Authentic Asian cuisine. All the Toyota staff could come and eat here. Home away from home. Except you probably don't have homes, right? What do you people live in over there?"

"Wooden huts."

"Really? How fascinating. America must be a real eye-opener for you." She blushed. "No offence intended."

Apart from that accidental 'eye' insult, the rest of the evening went real good. Desire crossed over into the gin zone and got more difficult to understand. But she thought the nip was warming to her. Elk had done 'em a steak for main course and Desire taught the woman how to use cutlery. She was a quick learner. Even her English had gotten better the more beer she drank.

By dessert they was best buddies. Desire knew all the bullshit had paid off when Miss Ajinomoto leaned over to her and said,

"Desire, I have to make the decision." She lowered her voice. "My boss don't speak no English so I gotta make recommendations for the guy." (See what I mean about how good her English had gotten?) But I'm supposed to pretend it's a committee decision. I'll be honest with you. I've been to see five other plots of land already and there ain't much difference between any of 'em. It's good that you've got all these empty houses here, and I like you, but …"

"But what?" Desire was close to a deal. She could taste it. Lady entrepreneurs had a tongue for an opening.

"I …I'm too embarrassed to say."

"Aji, you can tell me. We're friends, ain't we?"

"I have brought dishonor on my ancestors. One of the land owners made me an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"He knew that my decision was final, so he offered me …an incentive to choose his land."

Here it came. Desire'd been right. They were shifty little people. But she'd expected it. Business was business.

"We're talking money here, right?"

"I'm so ashamed, but I have twelve starving people in my family. What he offered could keep them alive for ten years. I could never earn …"

"I understand. I'm a woman ain't I? Just cause I'm a serious business person, don't mean I ain't got womanly feelings. How much did he offer?"

Miss Ajinomoto held up two fingers. Desire was pleasantly surprised. She splashed some Coke on top of a half glass of gin and sort'a puffed herself up.

"You know, girl? I'm gonna make your day. I'm gonna top that offer, and I got cash right here." She reached in her bag and came out with five fifty dollar bills. Miss Ajinomoto looked disappointed.

"I guess I didn't make myself clear enough. He didn't offer me two hundred. His bid was two grand."

Desire almost fell off her chair and off the end of the earth at the same time.

"Two thousand fucking bucks? Are you out of your tiny yella mind?" The guys at the bar looked over. Miss Ajinomoto almost lost it for a second but got her composure back. She opened the briefcase at her feet and took a bit of paper out.

"Of course, you're right. I was shocked at the size of his offer too. That's why I have no choice but to give him this." She put the paper down on the table. All Desire could focus on was the word Toyota at the top, and all them zeros after the number at the bottom. All I need is his signature at the bottom of this and I can go back to Japan with two thousand bucks in my pocket."

She stood. "I can see I've offended you by talking about money. I'm very sorry. Allow me to pay for this derightful meal."

"Hold your horses sister. You sit your little fanny right back down there where it come from. When you going back to Japan?"

"Tomorrow morning. Early." She sat down like she'd been told.

Desire rustled around in that bag of hers and come out with the car keys. She stood up kind'a shakily.

"You wait there. Don't you think about leaving." And she staggered out of the Bat and Grill leaving a grinning Asian all by herself. She sat politely at her table and sipped at her beer.

 

-o-

 

"Hi, baby." She looked up. The guy with the grass on his head was standing over her.

"I been to Bangkok." She was in too good a mood to let this sorry creature spoil her night.

"Wow. Really? I used to be a hooker there." He was a bit stunned at her honesty but it confirmed what he knew about oriental chicks. He smiled and went to sit down. "Till I got the disease."

"Disease?" He froze where he was.

"Yeah. Man that thing just spread and spread. Made one hell of a mess of me, down there. But the doctor gives me these special pads, you know? To mop up the puss. And if I burst the blisters regular, I can still perform pretty good. You wann'a sit down?"

"No. I just come over to say hi."

"OK. Hi. Bye."

"See you around."

 

-o-

 

Desire was back twenty-five minutes later. She was sweating and shaking. But that could of been from not having a drink for twenty-five minutes. She seemed relieved to see the Jap still sitting there.

"I was afraid you'd gone. I didn't see no car outside."

"No, I ehr, parked down at the police office and walked up. The company don't like me parking outside bars. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." She signaled over to Elk to bring another bottle and she put a big brown paper bag on the table. She wasn't a woman who was used to moving fast, that was obvious. She slumped down on the chair and fanned herself with her hand. "Shit I gotta start having sex again. I'm out'a shape."

She'd gotten home, raided her cash stash and made it back in some kind of a record time. But given the number of zeros she'd saw on that contract, two thousand dollars wasn't that much of a sacrifice. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, her dad always said. She never really understood what it meant, but it seemed fitting in this case.

"There's two grand in that bag. The bills ain't pretty but money's money. That's what I say. You can count it if you want. And here," she stuck two fingers down her cleavage and found a rolled up bill. "…is another twenty bucks to take my offer over his. I think that pretty well seals the deal. Right?"

They shook hands on it and toasted it with a couple of drinks while Miss Ajinomoto filled in some details on the contract. The director had signed the thing already so the whole deal was done before 10 PM.

 

-o-

 

Desire was feeling mighty proud of herself. After the nip had left she ordered drinks for everyone in the house. That was her and Elk and a little drunk guy with a Davy Crockett hat. She sat at the bar on her favourite stool and enjoyed the adrenaline surge from her first major business negotiation. She was a natural.

She read through her copy of the contract with Mr. Kamikaze's signature on the bottom. It sure was a nice contract. She hadn't noticed before how Toyata had the same logo as Holiday Inn. Maybe they was partners.