6/11/11

Black and White
By LaVa Payne


A low bass strummed. Thum-thum-thum-thum. It was a heartbeat low, slow and half-beaten down.

Piano keys tinkled in the background, and the slow heartbreaking moan of the string violins ached with their mellow quartet.

Her swooping gown bounced and shifted, bounced and shifted. In black and white, there she was. Breathtaking poise held her to the edge of the piano. The keys of the piano matched her gown and band.

Captivating, she held the audience with a lover’s embrace. The man next to me had put his drink down on the table. The cigar smoke curled around his head and danced off the edges of his fedora.

I could feel the music soaking into me like a hot shower ushering me into some place of quiet. I listened with my whole body. The velvet voice stroked me. I felt my shoulders relax as I laid my hands on the tablecloth. The candle light flickered from the red, oval with black mesh slung over it. I slipped a twenty on the rim of the tablecloth where she could see it. My votive suggestion was accessible.

I waited.

She had been watching me and now I was going to meet her in black and white.

A lonely saxophone cried in protest breaking free of the low bass still beating in synchronicity. I felt the passion rise from deep below as she bellowed, “…you’re mine.”

The purple and blue lighting behind her faded with oceans of waves upon the shore. I could feel a swell pushing forward and out as the ocean of her presence welled up behind her sultry curves.

I took a cigarette out of the package. Camels short. I tapped the cigarette twice end first on the package. I was not going to make it easy on her. She was going to have to work it for me.

I turned sideways to look nowhere. It didn’t matter. I was letting her know I had time--time to burn if necessary.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her place the microphone into the stand with the long black cord dangling along beside her dress. She eased herself smoothing the imaginary hair from her face. But it was the saunter I wanted to watch. Curving ever so slightly against the gown, Blue’s silken skin was ever so soft and alabaster. It was like candy for my desire watching her move. I wanted her. I was crazy hungry all over.

The pack of matches in my pocket danced in my palm. There was something else touching the matches in my pocket, but that would wait. I held it up letting it dance around my fingers looking at it with no apparent marvel. I knew the trick.

Blue was standing next to me. I could hear her faint panting and sense her excitement. I struck the match against the matchbook. I held the match with one hand examining the flame before I inhaled the fire of her and everything that she was into me. The fever and pleasure of her intoxicated my drink. Blue was liquor for the soul. Not many of them are around now.

The smoke funneled around the table. The silence was creeping around the room. No one mattered. Blue was standing poised and quiet with her hand outstretched for my cigarette. I obliged her.

“Daddy, what business do you have here tonight?” The small mole on her cheek stood out under the dim light as the smoke curled around her face towards the hung ceiling.

I paused taking the cigarette from her. “I was looking for a nice girl you see. But I don’t see any nice girls here.” I waited for her to show a ripple of irritation. I liked seeing her let me get to her that way.

“Hmmph. Aceray, you need to forget that fancy dream.” Blue took a glance over her shoulder. The band was taking a break, and she had all the time she needed. “I got all this, and I am not going to give that up to play wifey to somebody that will be here when eight o’clock strikes every night.” Her curves were intoxicating as she put her hand on her hip. I noticed the soft swaying from her hips.

“This life won’t last,” I waited to see the grim look on her face, “People lose interest and move to other joints, you see.” I let the smoke curl out of my mouth waiting for her to tilt her head and think of something clever to say.

“It don’t have to last for long Baby because I am going to be famous.” Blue pointed to the three men at the end of the bar. “I am going to get my own record contract and make it big in New York, forget this scene.” Her cherry lips were pouting ever so slight.

I slid my hand down into my pocket and grabbed the box. It had a slight soft feel like I imagined her gown would feel like if I stroked it. “Be my woman,” I slipped the box on the table, “be mine forever.”

Blue tilted her head back and let out a childish laugh. “Never. I refuse to give up my dreams to marry you Aceray. You would soon forget you married me and be back out here somewhere looking for another me to make you forget the wife at home.” Blue was eyeing the box. The black velvet was stark against the white tablecloth.

I crushed the cigarette out. “Tough luck doll,” I pushed my chair back. My coat was hanging on the back of the chair. “We could have been great together you see.” I turned my back to her striding to the door.

“Wait!” her voice trailed behind me.

I knew that someday she would change her mind. It was too late. I left the black on white. She would take the twenty and leave the box.


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LaVa currently resides in the Piney Woods and writes stories. Among her various hobbies are: searching the remains of WPA projects from the industrial age and combing old saw mill towns for archeological relics.