The Breeze

"You better hurry, my wife is threatening to leave me. She says, we together too much these days." he laughed as he turned to curse the cooks. He cursed them playfully in English, but when he got pissed, he cursed them in his strange language.

Back at the motel, I went into room thirty one. In the motel there was only one room numbered in the thirties. The room was above the office and my apartment.. The room was twice the size of the normal motel rooms. When I unlocked the door, the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. I had been avoiding the room for two weeks. It was the only room in the motel, I had not checked out.

Room thirty one was occupied only during the weekdays, at night. It was never open from Friday till Monday nights. During those nights Maude decided everyone should be with his or her family. Room thirty one was an illegal bar and gambling club. You couldn't just walk into room thirty one, you had to call ahead and be invited. Aunt Maude ran room thirty one as an exclusive club for the business owners and their guest.

The convince store type cooler held only beer and cokes. No liquor was allowed in room thirty one. The beer sold for two bucks a can, on the honor system. You got the beer and dropped the money in an empty gallon mayonnaise jar. The only game allowed at the large round green felt table was five card stud. There were usually too many players for anything fancy.

I found Maude's box fan in the closet of the room, along with the black wooden box of poker chips. I plugged the fan into the wall socket, then sat it in the door. The exhausted air would have knocked anyone passing by the door for a loop. Fortunately, the balcony in front of room thirty one didn't connect to the main building. The office and room thirty one sat perpendicular to the main building.

I turned on the cooler, then left the room. The cooler and the fan were both running full blast as I returned to the office.

I remembered my younger days at the beach. I had lost a lot of money in room thirty one, until Maude taught me to play five card stud. I continued to lose money for a couple of more summers, but not as much or as fast. Somehow when I was seventeen her rules took hold in my mind. I stopped losing to the other players. Form that time until I owned the Breeze, I never lost consistently again. I don't mean I never lost a hand, and I don't mean I didn't have a bad night occasionally. Hell some nights the laws of average and logic just fly out the window. What I mean is that I never lost over a weeks time. I also learned to recognize the nights when even Jesus Christ couldn't beat the odds. When those nights came, I had the courage to cut my losses and wait for another day.

In Maude's game it was perfectly fine to quite, even if you were winning. I would often sit on a bar stool and watch as some lousy player took pot after pot. Sometimes it just wasn't your night.

As always, I was amazed at how quickly word spread through the small village. If you forget about the tourist, the town had a population of less than five thousand. I began receiving calls about room thirty one within a day of talking to Poppa John. The local police chief came to see me on Sunday. He waited until the weekend checkouts were finished before he approached me. He knew that his job as well as mine depended on the tourist. He didn't want them to overhear our conversation.

"Johnny, I hear you are going to reopen the game." he stated.

It was funny people around town either called it the 'game' or room thirty one. Sometimes both were used.

"I was thinking about it." I stated, neither asking permission nor offering any information.

"Just in case you didn't know, Maude and I had an understanding about the game." I expected a bribe solicitation next. "I allowed her to run the game, as long as there was no trouble. If I get one call to this place because of the game, I will close it." he said.

"I understand," I replied.

"Also Johnny, these guys need to work their own businesses over the weekends. No Friday or Saturday night games." he said. I nodded. "The very most important rule is no tourist allowed in room thirty one. If you break that rule, I will personally whip your ass."

"Now chief, we need to have an understanding. The game will not operate Friday Saturday or Sunday nights. I will personally take care of any trouble here, but there has never been any trouble at the game. I will not allow tourist to play here, nor will I allow them to know what goes on in room thirty one, but if you decide to whip my ass, you better bring a lot of help." I said it with a smile. I really didn't care whether he allowed the game or not. I could get by without the money it brought in.

"I heard you were a bad ass. Well let me tell you, the only reason I'm letting you open the game, is that the businessmen around here want it. I figure, if you run it like your Aunt did, I won't have any trouble. If you fuck up, I will put your ass in jail."

"That's fair,' I said to calm him down.

He suddenly smiled, you will let me know when you open. I like a game of cards once in a while myself. Besides, I figure I can own this place by the time I retire."

"You just might, but I don't think you would like it." I said grinning. I looked forward to winning his police car or at least his badge.

On Monday, I called the beer distributor in Wilmington. I explained who I was, he remembered me from the game. I explained that I would like to buy some beer. He knew instantly that the game was going to be starting up again.

"Just tell me what you want," he said.

"To be honest Frank, I don't know what I want. Why don't you just send someone who is familiar with Maude's game over. He can just stock the cooler and give me a bill."

"No problem but we don't write bills for this kind of thing. It is strictly c.o.d." he said.

"No problem, but you have to come over one night so I can get it back." I laughed.

"If you play like you did when you were a kid, I'll own the Breeze." he said. It was strange how they remembered that I was a lousy poker player as a kid, but forgot how much of their money I had taken sense. Selective memory was a beautiful thing.

I personally cleaned and deodorized the carpet that afternoon. The place smelled a lot better before I went to bed. I was awakened by an early morning fisherman. His party needed a room. There were only two more weeks of the four hundred bucks a week special. There would still be an all weekday special but the price would go to six hundred. At six it was still a bargain for three or four people.

People had begun to check in and out regularly by that time. The house still wasn't more than half filled but it was enough to pay the tax lean. I was feeling pretty good about the upcoming season. Word about the game had swept the beach. I was getting twice as many calls about the game, than I was about rooms. I decided to start the game as soon as Lori arrived. I almost sorry I had hired her. I would never be able to keep the game's existence from her. If she was even a little pissed, she would tell her dad. Then I would have a family fight on my hands.

The Monday, of the week Lori was to arrive, Tisha my maid talked me into having the motel painted. A guy she knew from school needed a place to paint a mural. She knew I needed the building painted, so the two seemed a perfect match. I allowed her to bring a pimply faced kid over with the sketches. His idea was to paint the front as if people were at the beach. The second floor would be the ocean and the sky. He had no plans to paint the rear or the sides of the building. I told him thanks but no thanks.

We haggled and negotiated until I realized how desperate he was to paint something. I found out it would be his summer school grade. The project would comprise kind of a master's thesis. I had him by the short hairs, since no one in Wilmington would allow him to paint on their building.

"Tell you what kid," I suggested. "You spray the sides and rear with that sky blue paint, then toss in a couple of clouds on the top floor of the sides and rear, and I will allow you to paint anything you want on the front."

"You pay for pressure washing the building to get rid of the loose paint, then pay for the materials and you got a deal." he said.

"What kind of money we talkin'?" I asked.

No more than five bills. "I can shoot the rear and sides in a couple of days, but I am not going to paint the trim." he declared.

"Sure you are kid. If you don't paint the trim, then I am going to have it painted red, just to fuck up your master piece."

"Damn you are a hard man," the kid with a face like a pepperoni pizza said.

The kid arranged the pressure wash for that very afternoon. By five I had a building that looked a lot like the surface of the moon. I also had two bills in my hand. One was for a hundred and seventy five bucks for the wash. The other was for two hundred and fifty bucks for paint. Tuesday morning the kid showed up at eight. He brought a couple of flunkies and a paint spattered van.

They taped downstairs windows until noon. After their lunch break at Poppa Johns, where I opened an account for them, they began shooting the downstairs. I didn't even look at the job until six when they had gone. The downstairs of the back and the lower half of each side was a sky blue color. I mean everything was the same color, I had expected it but it was still a shock. The next morning they began on the upper parts of the building. I heard the hum of their compressor and the clanking of aluminum ladders all day. I didn't leave the office.

After I saw their van leave the parking lot, I walked around the building. It was hideous. The upper story was a different shade of blue. It looked like crap. I was on the verge of telling them not to return, but I figure a deal is a deal.

The van pulled into the rear again on the third day. I didn't have any idea what further crap they could pull on my poor building, but I left them alone. I paced the office all day, but contained myself. I drove to Poppa John's just to keep from going to the rear of my building,.

"Hey Johnny," Poppa shouted. "You gonna make me rich, if them boys stay a couple more weeks." His laughter told me I was in trouble. I accepted his bill. The nine meals the boys ate ran me almost a hundred and seventy five dollars.

"My god Poppa, you feeding them steak?" I asked playfully.

"No but them kids can put away them fancy burgers. You know the ones I sell to the tourist." he laughed.

I paid up, after all a deal's a deal. After my fish sandwich lunch, I returned to the motel. Pimple face was waiting. "Okay Mr. Sims, we are finished with the rear. You want to come take a look?"

"Sure kid," as far as he knew, I had never seen it before. I followed him to the side of the main building. He had on the third day transformed it into a seascape. There were white caps and birds flying between clouds. "Damn kid, you did a fine job on this old wreck."

"Don't sound so surprised Mr. Sims. There are going to be a lot more buildings like this around." he said with obvious pride.

"Kid, seeing this, I have absolutely no doubt about it." I stood marveling at his artistry with a spray gun.

"Mr. Sims, I got a favor to ask. I really hate to do it but I promised the others." he said.

"Okay kid, but I want dinner and a movie first," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Never mind, what is the favor." I said shaking my head.

"We will be shooting the base coats on the front tomorrow. When we wrap up around five, I won't be having any more help. I would kind of like to take the guys out for pizza and beer. You know as a thank you." he said looking at his paint covered shoes,

"How much?" I asked.

"Sixty bucks should do it," he said.

"Hell kid, you can't have much of a party on sixty bucks." I said handing him a hundred dollars. "Just make sure you are able to work on Monday." I said.

I didn't check anyone into the front that night. I had been checking all the fishermen into the rear, since I didn't think they would mind the paint everywhere.

Bright and early the next morning the three painters began shooting the front of the building. I had a front row seat in the office. They actually worked quite well together. First the taped plastic over the windows, then more plastic to the walks. After that it was tape door numbers then spray the hell out of the first floor.. After an expensive lunch on me, it was repeated on the second floor. The bottom of the building was sand brown, the middle sea blue and the top sky blue. The colors ran together. It was a total nightmare. I had seen the final product on the rear, so I wasn't worried.

Lori showed up the next morning. I showed her to her room first thing. I gave her a front room, and time to settle in. She arrive at the office around ten, just as pimple face showed. "Sorry Mr. Sims the party got a little out of hand." he said.

"Are you up to working today?" I asked.

"Sure, but I don't think I will be able to do more than blend the colors with the spray gun. I'm not steady enough for the brush work yet." he smiled sickly.

"By the way, this is my niece Lori. She is going to be my assistant for the summer. If I'm not here you can leave a message with her." I said.

"Hi," he said extending his paint stained hand. "Bobby Edwards."

"Lori Sims, nice to meet you. Is that really going to be a mural?" she asked.

"Sure just wait, it's going to be beautiful." he said with a shy smile.

The kid backed out of the office, he was embarrassed. I think he was embarrassed by Lori's good looks. She had just turned eighteen. She was young and quite beautiful in that soft baby fat way. She was a long way from fat, but her body still carried a very slight puffy look. Her hair was red, obviously from her mother's side of the family. She was fair skied with big brown eyes. Somewhat uncommon in redheads. The kid was blessed with a great body, that surely didn't come from her anorexic mom.

"So Lori, let me explain how things work," I said. I spent most of the day on Saturday explaining the check in process. I also introduced her to Tisha. They almost instantly bonded. Tisha was only a couple of years older than Lori. The two of them rattled on about college, and boys.

"Okay you two, get in the car. I am taking you to lunch," I demanded.

Poppa John's was filled with tourist even though the season didn't officially kick off until the next weekend. Poppa was harassed and raising hell at everyone in sight. I caught him long enough to introduce him to Tisha and Lori. He smiled at both, then returned to cursing his foreign language. One of the waitresses, brought our food in bags. I showed the girls to the outdoor area reserved for locals. There were three picnic table under a couple of pines in the rear of the restaurant.

"I'll call Poppa this afternoon and set you up an account. I guess I can spring for your meals. That is if you stay away from the tourist menu." I laughed.

"How will I know the tourist menu?' she asked.

"Don't order anything with a fancy name. It is the same food, but without the tourist price. Just order what you would at home." I said with a grin.

"So Tisha, how do you like working for Uncle Johnny?' Lori asked.

"I'll tell you when he isn't around," Tisha said seriously.

"Come on Tisha, it isn't that bad," I suggested.

"I don't want to talk about you with you sitting here," she said with a grin.

"Well, we have to get back anyway," I said hurrying them along.

When we got back to the motel, it looked a little better. Bobby had blended the colors and it looked less like a drunk's nightmare. "God," I said when I saw it.

"Don't worry boss, that Bobby is really talented. You will be proud of it next week." Tisha said.

"I hope you are right. If I saw this place looking like it does now, I would run to another motel as fast as my gimpy old leg would carry me.

Even the few hours until five made a difference. Bobby had added the clouds and waves to the seascape. he had even done some shading to create contours in the sand. It actually looked a little like a real seascape by five. That is if you squinted one eye and stood on one foot.

I left Lori alone for the first time on Sunday, her job for the day was to check out our guest. Mostly it was to accept their keys and wish them a safe trip. While she ran the motel, I drove into Wilmington. I made the stops of the local motels giving them a pep talk and delivering envelopes filled with ten dollar bills.

I was in the motel office by five. I found Lori reading a paperback novel. Some kind of murder mystery. She claimed to have found it in the lost and found box. I wouldn't have been surprised, there were plenty of things in it. Most of the items we kept no more than a month. Some which looked valuable, I planned to keep a year or so. I was sitting in my apartment reading the Sunday paper when I heard a female voice ask Lori, "Where is the gimp honey?"

I opened the door to see Ruth standing across the counter. She saw me before I could have closed the door, even if I wanted to close it. "My uncle is resting in his apartment. Could I help you."

"Afraid not honey. You aren't my type. Johnny get you butt out here." she said looking at me.

I stepped from the door. "Don't worry Lori, she is one of the good guys. At least they tell us that. Lori meet Ruth." I said pointing to Ruth.

"Hi," Lori said nervous.

"Hey kid, don't get scared, I'm a cop." Ruth said gently.

"Oh the way you talked I thought you were a longshoreman." Lori said. I broke into laughter. I was joined a moment later by Ruth.

"You have to be related to Johnny. You got that twisted sense of humor." she said. She next turned her attention to me. "Since you got little miss Muppet here to take care of the place, you can take me to dinner."

"Ordinarily I would love to, but tonight will be Lori's first night checking in guest. I really have to stay with her."

"Okay, then we send little miss Muppet out for Chinese. We can all have dinner in your place." she suggested.

One thing about Ruth, she had never taken no for an answer. "Sure why not. Lori would you mind driving into Wilmington?"

"Not if the pig stops calling me little miss Muppet." she said. These two were definitely not going to get along.

"Okay, now both of you play nice or I'm going to send you home." I said laughing.

"Sorry sweetie," Ruth said to Lori. "Being a wise ass is an occupational hazard. I will try to play nice."

"Okay, then draw me a map to the Chinese restaurant." she suggested.

After Lori left, I asked Ruth, "So what's up?"

"Nothing much, you just pissed the chief off bad." she stated.

"Can you piss him off good?" I asked.

"I don't expect so. He is going to be after your ass." she said.

"I would rather have you after it," I joked.

"That's nice, but I'm serious. If you screw up, he is going to nail you." she said.

"Unfortunately, if he wants to keep his job, he better not fuck with the game. There are too many city councilmen already on the club roles."

"I know, he isn't real happy about that. He would like it better if it were just you and Poppa John."

"Has he got a hard on for Poppa?" I asked.

"Yeah, but he can't touch him either. Everybody loves that old man. Besides he would have a mutiny if he tried to close Poppa's." she said.

"I know he don't like wise assed motel owners, but what has he got against Poppa?"

"The chief tried to get Poppa's beer license. Seems one of Poppa's waitresses sold some beer to a customer to take home. One of our rookies told the chief and he arrested the waitress. Poppa was furious. He went to the girl's arraignment with a lawyer. The lawyer demanded that the girl be released since she acted in good faith. If anyone should be arrested it should be the owner, Poppa John. The law was pretty clear that the owner was responsible for his staff's actions."