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Oct. 8th, 2007 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
titusnowl"Well, if this ain't just the snake's hips." My sister's voice cut through the crowded air of the speakeasy and hit me in the ear as effectively as if she'd walked over and physically smacked me upside the head, which I reckoned she was fixing to do momentarily. Me, I was caught like a deer in headlights, froze up on my way to the kitchens still hugging a crate full of bottles that claimed to be Crown Royal and tasted like legitimate grounds for abdication.
Beth worked her way through the mess of dancers, trailing a sallow, ferrety fellow behind her like one of those wooden ducks on a string. "If our parents knew you were here," she was saying meanwhile, and if I'd had any sense I would've ducked out while she was still getting her toes stepped on by foxtrot agents.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded when she got in range. So far as I knew, Beth didn't even drink.
"Stewart invited me," she said, drawing herself up - I hate it when she does that, because she's taller than me; and that helped me place the ferrety fellow. Her fiancé, the accountant. I looked at him.
"Your name's Stewart? I thought it was Stanley."
"It's Stewart," he said shortly.
"Are you sure? Because I really, really thought it was Stanley."
"Jim, I can't believe you forgot his name!" She was really setting up to fume.
"I know! The only guy you've ever landed - I ought to remember it just on account of the novelty!" She looked like she would smack me for that crack, so I switched tacks. "What would Ma and Dad say if they knew you were in here? And you!" I rounded on Stanley. "Leadin' my sister into this-here den of iniquity and vice - you got a goddamn nerve - "
Beth wasn't having any of it. One finger shot out and pert-near poked me in the nose, so's I went cross-eyed trying to keep track of it while she wagged it and her jaw in eight-to-the-bar time. "What are you doing here? Pa'll tan your hide six shades of red when he finds out - "
Jerry, one of the boys in the kitchen, poked me in the arm on his way by just then and said something fussy under his breath. I had to get moving - couldn't stand around on the job.
"I don't know what you think you're up to - " Beth was saying, and I cut her off.
"I'm - " a goddamn genius, that's what I was. I looked 'em both straight in the eye for a second, then glanced real furtive-like at Jerry disappearing into the kitchen and said in a quick rushed whisper: "I'm undercover. Don't throw up dust or I'll get busted like a Jersey mug!"
They didn't know what the hell I was saying - sure they didn't! They couldn't, on account of I was making up lingo like a dining-car cook making leftovers hash. But it sounded impressive, whatever it was, and they ate it up. Beth put her finger away and Stanley put on a face that only an accountant could make and nodded real stiff. "Sure, we won't tip your hand," he said.
"Make like a couple of eggs and scramble!" I hissed. "You don't know me!" And they ankled.
Not that I didn't half owe 'em one. All the crates save the one I was hugging on were already inside, thanks to good old Jerry. I carried my box into the kitchen and put it up and slumped against the wall to drink down an advance on my pay, and Jerry poked me again. "Lazybones," he called me. Hell, five minutes with Beth was enough to make me feel like I'd gone through the ringer. "That your sister?" He whistled, which I found kind of funny on account of she ain't nothing to whistle over.
"Yeah," I told him. "A real damn Valkyrie. You like her, I got a line on fifty more just like, down at the stockyards."
By the time them two figured out I was feeding 'em breadcrumbs, I had enough dirt of my own to keep 'em dumb. That's my life with my family: a carefully-balanced pile of blackmail and bribery. It'd be good practice if I wanted to join the mob.
Hell, for that count, it was good practice for living in Dallas.
Beth worked her way through the mess of dancers, trailing a sallow, ferrety fellow behind her like one of those wooden ducks on a string. "If our parents knew you were here," she was saying meanwhile, and if I'd had any sense I would've ducked out while she was still getting her toes stepped on by foxtrot agents.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded when she got in range. So far as I knew, Beth didn't even drink.
"Stewart invited me," she said, drawing herself up - I hate it when she does that, because she's taller than me; and that helped me place the ferrety fellow. Her fiancé, the accountant. I looked at him.
"Your name's Stewart? I thought it was Stanley."
"It's Stewart," he said shortly.
"Are you sure? Because I really, really thought it was Stanley."
"Jim, I can't believe you forgot his name!" She was really setting up to fume.
"I know! The only guy you've ever landed - I ought to remember it just on account of the novelty!" She looked like she would smack me for that crack, so I switched tacks. "What would Ma and Dad say if they knew you were in here? And you!" I rounded on Stanley. "Leadin' my sister into this-here den of iniquity and vice - you got a goddamn nerve - "
Beth wasn't having any of it. One finger shot out and pert-near poked me in the nose, so's I went cross-eyed trying to keep track of it while she wagged it and her jaw in eight-to-the-bar time. "What are you doing here? Pa'll tan your hide six shades of red when he finds out - "
Jerry, one of the boys in the kitchen, poked me in the arm on his way by just then and said something fussy under his breath. I had to get moving - couldn't stand around on the job.
"I don't know what you think you're up to - " Beth was saying, and I cut her off.
"I'm - " a goddamn genius, that's what I was. I looked 'em both straight in the eye for a second, then glanced real furtive-like at Jerry disappearing into the kitchen and said in a quick rushed whisper: "I'm undercover. Don't throw up dust or I'll get busted like a Jersey mug!"
They didn't know what the hell I was saying - sure they didn't! They couldn't, on account of I was making up lingo like a dining-car cook making leftovers hash. But it sounded impressive, whatever it was, and they ate it up. Beth put her finger away and Stanley put on a face that only an accountant could make and nodded real stiff. "Sure, we won't tip your hand," he said.
"Make like a couple of eggs and scramble!" I hissed. "You don't know me!" And they ankled.
Not that I didn't half owe 'em one. All the crates save the one I was hugging on were already inside, thanks to good old Jerry. I carried my box into the kitchen and put it up and slumped against the wall to drink down an advance on my pay, and Jerry poked me again. "Lazybones," he called me. Hell, five minutes with Beth was enough to make me feel like I'd gone through the ringer. "That your sister?" He whistled, which I found kind of funny on account of she ain't nothing to whistle over.
"Yeah," I told him. "A real damn Valkyrie. You like her, I got a line on fifty more just like, down at the stockyards."
By the time them two figured out I was feeding 'em breadcrumbs, I had enough dirt of my own to keep 'em dumb. That's my life with my family: a carefully-balanced pile of blackmail and bribery. It'd be good practice if I wanted to join the mob.
Hell, for that count, it was good practice for living in Dallas.
