Oil of Roses Ch. 21

"Like an idiot, I let him.

"So we're a busload of sleepin' drunks bein' driven through East Texas early in the morning by a speed freak.

"Needless to say, we got pulled over. Seems Willie had a real loose grasp on the concept of speed limits, not surprising given his drug of choice, and so we got popped for speeding. 550 lbs of County Sheriff in a 250 lb uniform is flashin' his big ol' light in the back of the bus and roustin' all us freaks out. There we stood, drunk or hung-over, shiverin' in the cold, lined up in back of the van while Deputy Redneck pats down Willie, who's on the edge of speed-freak frenzy. Finally his Pigness gets back to us and pokes Chet in the belly with his billyclub, askin' him what he was on.

"Chet... okay, all of y'all are through eatin' your desserts... Chet shows him what he was on 'cause he gets sick all over the Deputy, which provokes the predictable chain reaction and there we all are, dry heavin' by the side of the road with an Officer of the Lard that I'm sure was thinkin' of all the places he could hide our bodies.

"So I was feelin' a little more clear after purgin' and I ask the Deputy if I could speak to him a moment. I explain to him that we're just a bunch of kids goin' to Mardi Gras and we were too drunk to drive so Willie, who wasn't drunk, just a little excitable, had taken the wheel and we were awful sorry about his pants and shoes and any fine for speedin' he wanted to levy I'd be happy to pay in cash right then so we could get back on the road and out of his jurisdiction, go be someone else's problem. I mean, I'm tryin' to get out twenty words a second before his reptilian hind-brain figures out he could still kill us all, take all our money and dump our bodies in the piney woods."

"I take it you have a real low opinion of police, Tatiana?" asked Eddy.

"You could say that. I grew up in the South, with a Russian name, during the Cold War. I grew up a freak, an outspoken woman and an advocate of civil rights in Texas during the '60's. That's not to say there aren't any good police. There are. It's just I have a long history with the not-good variety, including this one, and it does tend to color my opinion of them.

"So this good ol' boy finally writes me out a citation for speeding, public intoxication, several other things I can't remember this long after, for a hundred and fifty dollars, looks me square in the eye and tells me that his handwriting is so bad that while it might look like one hundred and fifty on the citation it's really three hundred and fifty.

"I told him I understood, my handwriting was very bad as well, got the money out of my purse, paid the man and we loaded up the bus and got the hell out of there.

"To make a damn long story a little shorter, we all get to New Orleans, spend a few days partyin' and actin' like complete animals. Janis was right, even women who aren't conventionally attractive, like she and me, could get laid during Mardi Gras... repeatedly and pretty damn well. We were all livin' in my microbus, bathin' and washin' our clothes at the home of some other freaks we ran into in the French Quarter, and I'm going through the money I brought real quick, as I'm the only one who has any. No big deal, I was kinda used to it by then. But one night I notice my cash is almost gone so I announce that me and my bus were headin' back to Austin the next morning, all aboard who're comin' aboard. A couple of the people we'd met were interested in tryin' their luck in Texas so having room for two more I didn't have a problem with it. The little street urchin I'd been enjoyin' the company of, a boy who called himself Jean-Claude Duquesne, was most tearful that night, we had a wonderful parting evening. I was touched when I woke up the next morning to find he'd left me a rose. Of course, he was dead broke so I figgered he'd stole it, but it was the thought that counted.

"We get everybody loaded up, Dack and Jillian secure their pitiful duffle bags full of stuff on the roof, and hung over as hell I start the drive back to Austin.

"Long about Lafayette, Louisiana, everybody's tummies had calmed down enough to be hungry and I was about to need gas for the bus so we pulled in to a little truck stop figurin' we could get a bite to eat, some coffee, some gas, probably be good for a healthy chunk of the way back to Austin. We all tromp in and we're gettin' some dirty looks from the staff and customers. Hell, I figure the only reason we didn't get our asses stomped was that we were festooned in Mardi Gras beads and that alone'll warm most Louisianan's hearts. We get seated at a big ol' table away from everyone else and we go hog wild and pig crazy with that menu, I mean, we order the breakfast from hell. Everybody's feelin' worlds better about an hour later when we're finished.

"Until I opened up my purse to pay for the meal... that little Cajun cocksucker Jean-Claude had ripped me off! Had to be him because no one else could've gotten close to where the purse was stashed without me noticin' it. Now we're a pile of freeloadin' proto-hippy freaks in a redneck truck stop in Lafayette and I'm havin' visions of becomin' Purina Alligator Chow. I'm almost in tears and Janis just pats my shoulder and tells me not to worry, she'll handle this. She goes to the manager, explains what happened and then tells the rest of the crew to start workin' to pay off our breakfast as that was only fair since they'd been moochin' off me for awhile. She was gonna go make us some gas money and I was gonna come with her to pass the hat.

"So while Willie, Billy Ray, Chet, Dack and Jillian are washin' dishes, cleanin' out the restrooms, emptyin' the grease traps, moppin' and such, Janis and I go down the road and flag down a cop tellin' him we need to talk to the Chief of Police. He gives us a ride to the station, Janis and I explain everythin' to the Chief, tell him that the rest of our group is workin' off our debt to the truck stop and ask his permission for Janis to sing on the streets to raise us some gas money.

"This good ol' boy is lookin' at us like we're some kind of zoological specimen he'd prefer was kept in a lab somewhere and then he scratches his big ol' buzzcut head and asks Janis to sing somethin'. She asks if he's got any requests. He allows as he was always partial to Jimmie Rodgers' "T For Texas", figurin' there was no way this freak knew that one. Was he ever surprised when with no further ado Janis breaks into it right there in his office, just growlin' out that song like there was no tomorrow. She even gets the yodelin' parts right and by the time she's finished we've got everybody that's on duty at the station in there listenin' to her and clappin'.

"The Chief writes out a permit on a piece of note paper, hands her a five dollar bill and wishes us luck, tellin' us where he thought we could do the best business.

"That's where we went and for the next couple of hours I stood there, my artsy fartsy little beret in my hands to collect donations while Janis Joplin sang for our gas money to get home."

"You mean THE Janis Joplin?" Carol asked, dumbfounded as everyone else murmured amongst themselves, excepting Karen who'd guessed it long before.

"The one and only... I heard her perform several time afterwards, but never was the experience anywhere near as... magical... as that day. She turned on the 'good old girl' charm and was takin' requests and workin' the passers-by; it was phenomenal. And while her singin' got more polished later in her career, to me it rarely sounded so joyful and, I don't know, singing for the hell of it, as it did that day.

"So eventually she was tired and we both were cold and there was a policeman the Chief had sent to make sure nothin' happened to us who was more than happy to give us a ride back to the truck stop. We got there, collected the rest of the crew, got our gas, tipped the waitress, thanked the manager and headed home. We had enough so that when we got back into Austin, Janis took us all out to supper at the Villa Capri restaurant, after we cleaned up a bit.

"Four months later that same Chet, Chet Helms, invited her out to California and she left Austin, moved to San Francisco and became a member of Big Brother and the Holding Company. Any time you see her wearing a bunch of bracelets I can pretty much guarantee you that there're probably two or three in the group that she bought from me after the band hit big at the Monterey Pop Festival."

"Let me guess, you're the reason Tony had all of her albums and saw her perform?" Carol asked.

"You bet I am. I damn near had to make him listen to her at gunpoint at the time, kinda funny considering his profession, but once he did he was an immediate fan. But anyway, that's the story of my one and only trip to Mardi Gras and how I met Janis Joplin."

* * * * *

When after-dinner drinks were finished and Carol had proudly paid the tab, the group of them headed out to the limo.

"You're coming with us aren't you, Tatiana?" asked Carol.

"Certainly, if y'all've got room for one more in that monstrosity."

"Ma'am, for you, we'd make the room," Karen said. "I think I might could persuade this sweet young thing to sit on my lap and listen to me make lewd propositions in her ear." She kissed Patricia on the cheek.

Tatiana looked at her over the top of her glasses yet again. "I somehow suspect that you would be doing that whether I needed a ride or not, Karen."

"And you'd be right, Ms. Turov. How fortuitous that you do need a ride when I'm so inclined," Karen said, smiling broadly.

They all piled in for the relatively short drive to the Chateau de Chantilly. As they rode along, Carol leaned in and whispered to Margo, "How much will I owe y'all for the limo service?"

"Not a penny, dear, and Harry and I are firm on this. It's our contribution to this evening and you will let us cover it or Madam will be most displeased, as will Harry."

"Yes ma'am. You're paying for the limo," Carol said, eyes downcast but with a smile upon her face.

Tatiana sat in the limo, regal and aloof, watching the young people around her. She liked them. She liked them all. Carol had done well for herself and was surrounded by people that Tony would have approved of wholeheartedly, although some of them would have mystified him somewhat. Karen and Patricia, Kelly and Jessica... Tony wouldn't have really understood their relationship, but he wouldn't have had a problem with it. He was possessed of a remarkably "live and let live" attitude when not on family business.

When he was on family business he was one of the scariest men Tatiana had ever met. But such was one of the dichotomies of Tony Juliana and one of the reasons she'd found him such a fascinating human being. Carol's relationship with Tony was one that Tatiana would envy for the rest of her days, but while she and Tony had become close friends over the years, she'd had to live with the pain of Tony never looking at her that way.

It was a pain she'd had a lifetime to get used to, a thousand different times, a thousand different men. Behind the regal bearing and mask of aloofness, Tatiana ate her nightly supper of loneliness, a bottle of unshed tears her private vintage wine.

* * * * *

As the limo pulled into the strip mall parking lot and the party disembarked, Carol looked around.

"Shit, he got here before us," she said to herself.

No one else noticed the five men who stayed in the shadows but missed nothing that went on anywhere near the club.

* * * * *

"Goddamn it Niccolo, this is exactly the kind of thing I didn't want you to do!" Carol said as she got up in the face of a handsome young man in a grey Armani suit.

"Look Carol, you know me. If you didn't want this happening, you shouldn't have invited me," the young man responded calmly.

The inside of the Chateau de Chantilly had been somewhat transformed. The bandstand, such as it was, was crowded by the addition of a standing bass player and a saxophonist. A section of tables had been removed and a small dance floor cleared. A caterer had been brought in and a small buffet of what smelled to be superb Italian food had been set up. Everyone in the bar, including the staff, were wearing black armbands. By the bar there was a framed picture of a distinguished looking gentleman of Mediterranean extraction with black crepe draped around the frame.

Bizoumet and her new accompanists were rolling through "Take the A-Train" and the crowd, plates of food in front of them, seemed to be having a good time.

"Everyone, this is Niccolo Philouma," Carol said. "Niccolo, this is my Master and Mistress, Harry and Margo Grimes." On she went, down the line until she got to Tatiana.

"Aunt Tattie, I'm so glad to see you out of that workshop," Niccolo said, giving her a big hug and kiss. "I called your place and Pyotr was most upset... forgot his accent and everything. Told me you were already with this gang of miscreants. Saved me the trouble of having to drag the two of you out, kicking and screaming."

"Oh, I wouldn't have been the one kicking and screaming, I suspect. I might have found out more about Pyotr's true orientation than I want to know if you'd tried to get him to come. I suspect he would have reached levels of screaming queendom hitherto unseen outside of a theater group."

"Aunt Tattie, what a terrible thing to say about one's paramour," Niccolo replied, smiling.

Once again Tatiana Turov was peering imperiously at someone over the top of her glasses.

"Niccolo Anthony Philouma, you are far too intelligent and I'm far too... experienced... to believe Peter is my 'paramour'. He's a gigolo who likes my money a good bit more than I like what he does to me with his body." She saw the mischievous grin on Niccolo's face. "Good God boy, you can still find that much joy in yanking your Aunt Tattie's chain? I'd have hoped you'd have outgrown it by now. You get that from your godfather, you know."

"Yes and it's in his honor that I'll be trying to rattle the bars of your cage repeatedly over the course of the evening." The trio on the bandstand swung into "April In Paris". "But first, I've been remiss in my most pleasant duty to tell you that you look lovely this evening. May I have this dance, Aunt Tattie?"

She smiled and offered him her hand and without another word they twirled off onto the dance floor.

"So that's the true heir to the Philouma family business?" mused Eddy.

"Yes it is," Carol said. "And with all the other families expecting stupid fat Phillie to take over the business, they're all primed for a quick and dirty takeover of the Philouma interests. Won't they be surprised? I expect Niccolo will either wipe out or absorb several of the smaller families in the first week or two. Then the larger families will sue for peace, realizing the new and true state of affairs and Vic and Niccolo's plans will have succeeded admirably. Niccolo will be head of a larger, stronger, more profitable family and a lot of the little riff-raff families that have been clogging up the works will be out of the picture, one way or another."

"You and Tony talked about family matters a lot, didn't you?" Karen asked.

"One of his favorite subjects," Carol said, smiling to herself. "The aftermath of Vic's death was one of his biggest concerns and he often pondered how it would work out. Even he didn't know, or if he did he never let on to me, that Vic was bringing up Niccolo behind the scenes to take over. The public image has always been that Niccolo was estranged from the family. It was only Vic's recent decline in health that brought him back into the fold. But enough talk about things we probably shouldn't be talking about.

"I see that Nick has reserved us a large table, let's go sit down and order some drinks. I suspect this party will be a long one."

After the song was finished, Bizoumet excused herself from the piano and the bassist and saxophonist went into a little improvisational jam as she headed for the table.

"Alright Carol," she said as she arrived, "you know I'm going to get you up there singing tonight so you might as well resign yourself to the idea right now."

"And a good evening to you too, dear," Carol replied. "I figured there was no way out of it when I first thought of coming here tonight. But give me a bit, alright?"

Introductions were made around the table as Nick and Tatiana came to sit down as well. After everyone had met and drink orders been delivered, Carol turned to Harry.

"Sir, I'm covering our tab tonight but if we go over what I have on me I'll reimburse you for what I can't cover immediately"

"Nope, not happening. Margo and I are picking up the bar tab for all of us tonight."

"Harry, you're crazier than a shithouse rat. You got the limo, Tamara and I are covering the bar tab," Eddy said, "and I don't wanna hear no gawddamn argument about it."

"I'm not going to argue with you, you knuckle-dragging Neanderthal throwback, I'm just going to beat the shit out of you like I was your mama and pay the bill," Karen said.

"Well, I'd offer to do evil things to your body, Karen, so Jessica could steal the check from you," Kelly said, "but unfortunately this'll end up being way too rich for our blood. But if you'd like for us to try and pay, we'll offer up our innocent young bodies to the crowd," she smirked.

"Absolute and complete nonsense!" Tatiana exclaimed. "I have far more money than I know what to do with and I'm picking up the tab. That's the end of the matter; let's hear no more about it!"

Niccolo sat back smiling. "You know, there are times when I love being me. You see, I'm the one with armed guards surrounding the club. I'm also the one who's already made it clear to the house that I'm picking up the tab for everyone in the place tonight. So I win the Great Tony Juliana's Wake Bar Tab Pissing Contest, hands down."

Tatiana looked down her nose at him. "You, young man, do not fight fair."

"I'm sure you have a point in that statement somewhere, Aunt Tattie, I'm just not seeing it. Now then, who needs a refill?"

As everyone laughed he motioned a waitress over. "Rosalind, be a dear and get another of the same for everyone."

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr. Philouma," Harry began.

"Call me Nick."

"Nick," Harry continued, "how are you avoiding having the bar fill up with freeloaders?"

"First off, the patrons don't know I'm covering their tabs and won't, until they're on their way out. Secondly, the waitress and bartender grapevine has spread the word as to who I am. Generally speaking, people don't try to take advantage of people with my last name in this town. And thirdly, so what if they do? In reality I think it's a pretty safe bet I have more money than Aunt Tattie, so spending a little more of it isn't going cause me to miss any meals."

Carol sat snuggling between Margo and Harry. "So Nick, how'd you lose any unwanted escorts this evening?"

"Wasn't that hard, although I want you to know that it wounded my Sicilian patrician soul to ride in a Honda Civic to get here unseen. The boys weren't happy about their various low-end rides either, but they did the job. We managed to lose any local, state and/or federal watchers."

He looked at Harry and Margo. "Carol was most insistent that I not bring you the kind of 'official scrutiny' that I live under. She's a very good girl."

Margo leaned down and kissed Carol, whispering "Thank you" while Harry said "Yes she is, she's a wonderful girl."

After a bit more conversation around the table, Bizoumet went back to the piano and the trio began playing dance music once more. The tiny dance floor was soon crowded with couples, leaving Carol and Tatiana alone at the table after they begged off, forcing Nick to dance with a lovely woman who had wandered in a bit earlier by herself.