What we owe ye, old buddy?
Let me have five. That’ll get the whiskey and everthing.
Reese paid and they stepped out into the gravel. The taxi slewed about in a cloud of dust and flying stones and went back out to the highway. Reese tucked in his shirt and hitched up his trousers and seized the doorhandle to make his entrance but the door was locked.
Ring the buzzer, said Suttree.
He pushed the button and almost immediately the door opened and a man looked at them and stepped back and they entered.
A concrete floor, a horseshoeshaped bar upholstered in quilted black plastic, a gaudy jukebox that played country music A few sloe-eyed young whores in stage makeup and incredible costumes, ballroom gowns, bathing suits, satin pajamas. They lounged at the bar, they sat in the booths by the wall, they danced with clowns dressed up like farmers wooden clown dances in the shifting jukebox lights. Through a door to the rear Suttree could see thicker smoke yet and the green baize of gaming tables.
Godamighty damn, said Reese reverently. Looky here.
Suttree was looking. He’d been in places like this but not quite. A whole new style seemed to be seeking expression here. They crossed to the bar and were immediately set upon by whores. A blackhaired girl in a chiffon dress with a train that followed her about the floor sweeping up the cigarette butts had Suttree by the elbow. Hidy cutie, she said. Why dont you buy me a drink? Suttree looked down into a pair of enormous painted eyes dripping a black goo. A pair of perfectly round white tits pushed up in the front of her gown. You’ll have to see this man here, he said. He’s the last of the big spenders.
She immediately turned loose of Suttree and got hold of Reese’s arm even though there were two other girls hanging onto him. Hidy cutie, she said. Why dont you buy me a drink?
I’ll buy ye’ns all a drink quick as I get done at the tong table, cried Reese.
The bartender was standing at the ready and Suttree held up one hand and caught his eye. He raised his chin to know what Sut would have.
Bourbon and gingerale, said Suttree.
Where you all from, honey? said a blonde who appeared out of the smoke.
Suttree looked at her. Web City, he said.
You’re a smart son of a bitch, aint ye?
He watched Reese at the cardtable until he became bored and went back out to the bar. But the whores had thickened and he got another drink and went back into the gambling room again. Reese seemed to have won some money and Suttree tapped him on the shoulder to get some quarters and dimes for the slotmachines. The dealer raised up and eyed him narrowly and told him to back off from the table if he wasnt playing. Reese handed him two dollars over his shoulder and Suttree took the money and went into another room and got change from a lady at a cardtable by the door. There were eight or ten slotmachines along the walls and several young men in dark gabardine shirts and their heads almost shaven were feeding money to the whores and the whores were operating the machines. Suttree won about seven dollars and went back out to the bar and got another drink. He was beginning to feel a little drunk. He bought the blackhaired girl a drink and she took him by the arm and they sat in a booth at the far wall and she immediately ordered two more drinks from a waitress dressed in a swimsuit and black net stockings. The black-haired girl put her hand on Suttree’s leg and got him by the neck and ran her tongue down his throat. Then she stuck her tongue in his ear and asked him if he wanted to go out in the back.
Reese came reeling through the smoke and the din with a painted childwhore on his arm. She had an eyetooth out and smiled with her cigarette in her mouth to hide the gap.
Looky here, Sut.
Hidy.
Aint that a purty little old thing?
Suttree smiled.
Reese had her by the hand. He leaned toward Suttree. Listen, he said, you wouldnt tell on a feller would ye?
Maybe not. Where’s the whiskey?
Here. Hell fire, get ye a drink. He brought the bottle forth from his overalls and handed it over.
You raise tobacco too? the girl said.
Sure, said Suttree.
Reese was making peculiar faces and jerking his shoulder at Suttree. Suttree spun the cap back on the bottle and slid from the booth. I’ve got to talk to my partner here a minute, he told the girl.
They conferred a few feet from the table. Let’s hear the bad news, said Suttree.
Bad news’s ass. Looky here.
He was cupping his hand at the mouth of his pocket, a roll of bills crouched there like a pet mouse. Old buddy, I strictly slipped it to em in yonder, he said.
The whore on his arm leaned across to whisper in Suttree’s ear. You ought to get with Doreen yonder, she said, nodding toward a puffy blonde at the bar. She’s real sweet.
We got to get us another bottle of whiskey, said Reese. Both she and Reese had taken to hoarse stage whispers and Suttree had to bend his head forward to hear them at all what with the howl of electric guitars from the jukebox. As he did so the old man seized him by the head and pulled him close and rasped in his ear: Go on and get her Sut. We’ll strictly put the dick to em.