Part 6 (2/2)
Pearl grabbed Evelyn's hand and started running for the car.
”My Heavens,” exclaimed Evelyn, ”This street car reminds me of some Madam's parlor--there's five girls I know--h.e.l.lo, gang.”
”O. K., Ev. How is the biggest liquor and beer consumer today?” asked one of the girls.
”I'm fine. Girls, this is Pearl. She is a newcomer in our midst, and a good scout--Pearl, this is the girls--find out their names for yourself.
I knew what some of their names was last week, but only Heaven knows what they are this week.”
The girls smiled and said h.e.l.lo to Pearl, and all moved over for them to sit down.
”Ev, what's this I hear about a party tonight at the Rio Bravo Hotel--have you heard about it yet?”
”Yeah--Mickey Finn, you know her, we just run into her at the corner, and she told us about it, and said for us to come. Are you going?”
”Sure, we all are.”
”Do you think it will be all right, Ev?” asked Pearl, under her breath.
”I don't get you--how do you mean all right?”
”Well, I've never been on an all-night party in Juarez--so naturally I'm curious--but what I mean is--can you get away with much over here without the Mexicans landing you in jail?”
”As long as there ain't no murder, or absolute destruction of property--you are pretty safe, but why bother--wait till you get in the can before you start worrying about it.”
Juarez, with its lights twinkling in the glowing dusk--with its midnight purple mountains looking like big, futuristic pillows flanking it on three sides, the skies screaming, flaming, gold, crimson, varied colors of reds, shading into blue, darker blue, then deep blue, then to purple in the far east, with the sounds of laughing, running, playing dogs and children, sounds of a tw.a.n.ging guitar slightly out of tune, accompanied by a nasal but sincere Mexican love song being sung to a Senorita with dark eyes and broken, dirty teeth, and bosoms that would make a Holstein cow's eyes bulge with envy--smells of all sorts drifted on the soft, gentle breeze, of tortillas, of beans frying with cheese, of chili sauces, of charcoal, of unwashed dirty bodies, of manure, both human and animal. A street car rattling by with its cargo of brilliantly painted cheeks, flas.h.i.+ng smiles, syphilis-carrying, would-be, has-been, and are-to-be wh.o.r.es.
Signs advertising whiskeys, and liquors of all kinds, brilliant in color, flashed in the deepening dusk, their utter defiance at the American side of the border. The extra bartenders were coming on duty, extra waiters were appearing in respective places, rubbing their hands together like p.a.w.nbrokers, at the thought of the night's tips; at the thought of what could be taken out of the pockets of one too drunk to notice; at the thought of the tips that would be thrown at the entertainers that would roll where they could stoop and pick it up without being noticed; at the thought of drunken women's pocketbooks that can so easily be gone into in a crowded place without fear of being caught. This was Sat.u.r.day night, the biggest night of the week.
”We are getting off here at the corner,” said one of the five girls. ”We are going to start with the Gold Palace, Pearl; you and Ev come along with us.”
Evelyn started to rise.
”Thanks,” said Pearl, as she caught Evelyn's arm, ”We are going to ride around to the Lobby No. 2. I've a friend around there to see on business--but we will see you at the party, if not sooner. I hope you all have some good luck tonight.”
”Thanks, honey,” called one of the girls, ”I'm d.a.m.ned if we don't need it.”
”Why didn't you come on and get off and get a drink? I don't think Harry is there yet--it's a little early for him.”
”Oh, Ev, I just can't wait.”
”Well, I admit you sure got it bad.”
”Say, how do these parties usually end, and where?”
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