Love lost on cloud 9, p.24
Love Lost on Cloud 9, page 24
The camera panned across the crowd. Some were pushed up around the stage to get the best possible view of the show, while others sat at tables sipping cocktails. Farther back toward the bar were the handful of men more interested in their card game than what was happening on stage. One of those men was Hank Russo. The camera focused on Hank while he placed a stack of chips on the table in front of himself and spoke to the man on his left. Then it panned back to the stage, where Astrid had her back facing her audience, arms outstretched at her side. She shimmied back and forth. The crowd ate it up. Gone were her gloves. She was now dancing with the feather boa, pulling it back and forth across her shoulders as she gyrated her hips in a seductive circle. She wore heels, and her long satin skirt was slit up the center of the back, hinting at but not revealing her backside. As she worked her hips, she offered fleeting glimpses of silk stockings edged with black lace.
She turned back to the crowd and flashed a smile. She sauntered to the right and gave the people another shimmy, leaning forward while her full chest moved back and forth.
“Whoa, I feel kinda weird watching this,” Kip said.
“You feel weird?” Sharon laughed.
“Well, with you sitting next to me, yeah,” he laughed back. “Did you know Agnes’s sister was a stripper?”
“She said they both danced burlesque, when they were in the circus. Is that a fancy word for stripping?” Sharon asked.
“I have no idea,” Kip answered. He was still watching, despite the so-called difficulty. “They did this for their father’s circus?” he asked.
“Started when they were fourteen or so, if I remember correctly what she said,” Sharon nodded. Kip let out another whistle.
“I guess she wasn’t lying about her father,” he said.
“Agnes said Astrid liked performing more than she did, that Astrid was the one who competed in the pageants and stuff, later on after their father sold his show,” Sharon said.
“While Agnes stole from the other contestants,” Kip added.
“Well, yeah,” Sharon couldn’t help but smile. She missed their quirky houseguest. They turned back to watching the video.
By this point, Astrid again had her back to the crowd, but gone was her long skirt. She danced as her arms stretched behind her back, playfully pulling at the laces of her corseted top, until she pulled it off completely. When she turned, she had her arms crossed against her chest, still concealing her breasts from the audience as she shimmied and danced across the stage some more.
The camera jerked away from its focus on Astrid to a commotion by the wide doors of the ballroom that emptied into the lobby on the other side. Though there was no sound, it was obvious this was an unplanned event by the way people would turn, stare, and then rush toward the doors. The camera moved across the room to get a better view, much to Sharon and Kip’s relief.
“That’s Dolores again!” Sharon cried out when the film focused on the ruckus. Dolores looked to be yelling and waving her arms, pointing up to the stage in anger. Ginger stepped up to her and tried to speak, but Dolores shoved her away. That’s when Hank stepped up, and Dolores immediately calmed down. The two spoke for a moment, Hank’s hand on the shoulder of Dolores’s thick winter coat as he leaned in to hear her. The crowd stood by and watched, more interested in the scene unfolding than Astrid’s finale on stage.
Suddenly, the crowd seemed to part like the Red Sea as Astrid, clad only in sparkling crystal tassels on her breasts and skimpy lace panties, marched right up to Dolores, placed her hands on her shoulders, and shoved her backwards. Dolores landed on her behind in the lobby of the dancehall. The crowd went wild as Astrid exchanged words with her neighbor. She stretched out her arm and pointed to the exit, while Dolores shielded her eyes from Astrid’s naked body and kept trying to plead with Hank as he held out a hand to help her up from the floor. Astrid turned to Hank, seemed to exchange angry words with him as well, and then spun on her heel and disappeared out of the frame. The film went to black as Hank walked Dolores in the direction of the doors to outside.
“That was wild,” Kip said, unable to look away from the wall, though the film had ended.
He shook his head as if to release what he had just seen.
“That was insane,” Sharon responded.
“Remind me to stay on that woman’s good side, would ya?” Kip snorted.
“No kidding,” Sharon said. “I wonder if David knows about any of this? Let’s watch another one.”
“Babe, I’d love to, but I’ve got to head to bed. It’s eleven-thirty already, and I’ve got to get up for work in a few hours. I can thread a new film up for you, if you want. And I’ll gladly go through more of these with you tomorrow, I promise.”
Sharon reluctantly agreed to let Kip go to bed, but had him load a new film for her to watch. The video was labeled Halloween, 1976. She sat back down with Rex by her side and waited to see what would happen next.
SHARON’S EYES LIT UP when the images of Astrid and Hank’s Halloween party at the dancehall appeared on the wall. A banner above the bar read Have a Roaring Good Time! in what appeared to be hand-painted letters. There were glasses of champagne lined up like little, golden soldiers, waiting for takers on the bartop. A woman attired in a sparkling black dress and matching headband walked by with a cigarette box hanging from her neck, smiling and offering stogies to the men who walked past.
When the camera found Astrid and Hank standing by the doors to the lobby as they welcomed guests, Sharon gasped.
“She looks so beautiful,” she whispered to Rex. He didn’t seem to care.
Astrid wore a white, jeweled dress that hugged her curves and was cut above her knees, where white fringe then fell almost to her calves. Every time she moved, the dress moved with her in a hypnotic sway. A thick, white feather boa was slung across her shoulders, and white satin gloves covered her arms past her elbows. Long strands of pearls were knotted and hung around her neck, and atop her head was a spectacular crystal-encrusted headband with a single, full white feather sticking up from it.
Hank stood next to Astrid, looking dapper in a classic tuxedo, smoking a cigar and smiling at and shaking hands with guests as they arrived. All were dressed in Roaring Twenties fashions, though none could hold a candle to their hosts.
Sharon continued to watch as her eyes burned behind her lids and her head became heavy. She slumped down in the loveseat and rested against Rex’s warm, soft body while the images flickering on the wall danced and drank and laughed for the camera. Sharon felt herself falling, until she was standing in the middle of it all in full color and sound, surrounded by partygoers in full Gatsby fashions sipping champagne, their laughter rising and falling in time to the big band music engulfing the hall.
Sharon looked down. She was barefoot and wearing only Kip’s faded Eagles t-shirt. Why was she always so underdressed? Would she ever look like a real, grown-up woman, like the other wives?
“You knew this was a party, silly, do you want to ruin everything?” Ginger Pratt asked her, snapping her fingers in front of Sharon’s face to get her attention. Ginger wore a white tuxedo and green stiletto heels. Fred stepped up beside her, wearing a black tuxedo. Sharon knew it was Fred, even though he had the elegantly carved and painted head of a carousel horse.
“Let’s give the people what they want,” he said to his wife. Fred grasped Ginger’s hand and the two walked away to the dance floor.
Sharon walked toward the bar, where she saw Vic Dolan choking. She ran up to him, but Ramona stepped in her path before she could get there.
“Don’t you ever mind your own business?” she demanded. “Go! Nobody wants you here!” She held out her arm and pointed toward the corridor that led to Astrid’s dressing room.
Sharon stepped around Ramona, past where Vic was still choking on a cherry stem while the men around him played cards. Hank looked up from his cards, lifted his champagne glass, and winked at Sharon as she slipped away down the long, dark hallway.
Sharon ran down the hallway. She could make out a light seeping from under the doorway at the end. She could hear Agnes giggling. Or was it Astrid? When she reached the door, she turned the knob and pushed. On the purple chaise against the wall, Hank sat, still in his tuxedo. Dolores sat next to him, wearing Astrid’s white, jeweled gown and headpiece. She held a long, slim cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke out of her blood-red lips. Sharon was confused, and turned her head to look back down the long hall. There was only darkness. She was standing at the mouth of the tunnel.
46
“SHARON, BABE, HEY, WAKE up for a minute,” Kip whispered in Sharon’s ear as she slept. She felt herself pulled up from the darkness of sleep and opened her eyes. It was still dark in the bedroom.
“What is it?” she asked. “Is it Agnes? Is she back?”
“No, no,” he whispered. “I can’t find my keys. Where’d you leave them yesterday?”
Sharon tried to think, but her brain was foggy with sleep. After falling asleep watching Astrid’s home movies, she’d crawled into bed well past three in the morning. “Um, I probably put the—did you, did you try the pocket of my shorts?”
He darted away into Sharon’s closet. She heard him pull open the trap door of the laundry chute.
“Look on the bench,” she called out weakly, her eyes not wanting to stay open.
“They’re not there,” he said, stepping back into the bedroom. “I’ll just take your car again,” he said, coming back around the bed to kiss Sharon on her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”
Sharon mumbled and rolled over onto her side, feeling the heavy warmth of Rex lying in Kip’s spot.
WHEN SHE AWOKE AGAIN, sunlight was streaming in through the windows, and she had thrown the blankets to the floor in the growing heat of the morning. She rolled over to face Rex, gently snoring with his head on Kip’s pillow. She reached out to stroke his fur and his tail thumped the bed, but he did not open his eyes. With a yawn and a big stretch, she felt the events of the previous day come tumbling back into position in her mind. She wondered when she would hear from Agnes again.
Getting up to start her day, Sharon brushed her teeth and then entered her closet. She stood and stared at her dresses. She sat on the bench in the window and thought about changing into fresh clothes when she heard a commotion across the street. She turned and peered outside.
Dolores was standing on the steps of her porch and yelling at a man in a police uniform, but it was not her husband. He stood at the top of her driveway, along the edge of the road, with a defeated slump to his shoulders.
Sharon inched the window up slowly until she could better hear the argument, then set her elbows on the wide wooden plank of the windowsill and rested her chin in her hands. She relished the opportunity to finally be the one watching.
“I don’t care who told you to do what, Glenn. You are not allowed to trespass on my property,” Dolores stated loudly.
“The edge of the road is not your property, Dolores,” the officer sighed. Even from across the street, Sharon could see the sweat growing, making a larger and larger stain on his back.
“It is my property when you go stomping around in the woods over there, stepping on my blueberry and raspberry bushes.”
“We’re just taking a few photos, Dolores, for Vic’s investigation, and we’d really like to get it finished up this morning. I’ll tell my guys to be careful where they step.”
“I’m going to stand right here and watch them,” Dolores told him, hands on her hips. “And I’ll be calling and complaining, Glenn, if I see one footprint where it doesn’t belong.”
“I’d expect nothing less, Dolores,” he replied with a wave, already walking away from the altercation.
“Give my best to your whore wife,” Dolores called after the man once he was on the amusement park side of the road again.
But though Sharon heard the insult, the roar of a passing car meant that police officer Glenn did not. Sharon shook her head and laughed to herself. What a miserable woman, she thought, watching as Dolores stood, hands on hips, as the police officers walked around outside Cloud 9, taking photos.
When the officers disappeared back behind the park’s entrance, Sharon kept watching Dolores. She watched as she violently plucked the wilting blooms from her lily plants along the front edge of her flower garden, and as she shooed away the mother barn cat with a shake of her foot at the animal.
“I wonder how Sweet Pea is doing?” Sharon mused out loud, not feeling hopeful for the little kitten in need. “I should have just said yes. We could have figured it out, poor little thing.”
Sharon watched as Debbie came out to talk to her mother. Though she couldn’t hear what either was saying, it looked to be an argument between mother and daughter, with Debbie stomping back up the steps and slamming shut the heavy front door. Dolores threw her garden tools down in disgust. She strode across the lawn and driveway to the barn, sliding the heavy door open, and disappearing into its darkness. The door slid shut.
Sharon stood up from the bench to finish dressing and heard David’s police car roll into the driveway. She watched him get out of his car and then pull a box from the back seat. Without going up to his own house first, he started crossing the street to Sharon’s. She zipped her shorts quickly and pulled her hair into a ponytail as she made her way down the stairs to greet him.
“YA BEAT ME TO IT,” David joked with a wide, simple smile when Sharon swung open the door before he could knock.
“I saw you coming,” Sharon smiled. “Please, come in. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was able to find some of Astrid’s belongings at a thrift store a few towns over,” he said, looking around the room. “I was hoping to give them to Agnes, if she is available.”
Sharon felt her stomach flip. “She’s not here,” Sharon said. She thought about making up a story about Agnes wanting to see the beach or go sightseeing in Boston, but she waited for his reaction first.
“Ah, that’s too bad,” he said, his shoulders dropping. He held the box awkwardly in his arms.
“But I can take that, and make sure she gets it when she gets back,” Sharon said quickly. He lit up again.
“Make sure she knows she’ll have to present identification to claim Astrid’s remains,” David said, allowing Sharon to take the box from him. She nodded and set it down on the coffee table.
“Say, David, I saw some of your other officers out taking photos this morning—they said something about it being for Vic’s investigation. Is there anything we should be worried about?”
“Oh, no, Sharon, it's just standard procedure,” David said.
“For a man who had a heart attack?” Sharon asked. There was an awkward silence, until Sharon could no longer keep quiet. “She’s missing, David. Agnes, I mean. I have no idea where she is. She disappeared last night while Kip and I were upstairs talking.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scolded, suddenly standing up straight and taking on an authoritative air. “You should have called me. What if he’s come back?”
“What if who’s come...?” she tried to ask, but David kept talking.
“Was there any sign of struggle? Did she leave a note? Did she take anything with her? There’s a lot I could have done for you, Sharon.” He sounded alarmed as he peppered Sharon with questions.
“I don’t know,” she said in a voice she did not recognize. She thought for a moment. “She took her bag with her, and cash. I don’t know how much, but she had plenty. And the phone book was out on the table, open to taxi services.”
Sharon didn’t say anything about the postcard poems or the extracurricular exploring the two had been doing throughout the house and park next door. Sharon figured that could be kept to herself for now. David was busy scribbling in a small notebook.
“Kip and I have been,” Sharon started, thought about her words, and blew out a big breath. “We’ve been fighting lately.”
“About Agnes?” he asked.
“Yes, among other things, more personal things,” she said weakly. “Kip might have accused her of taking advantage of us when we got home from your house yesterday.”
“Right after the incident with Ramona?” he asked with a sigh.
“Yeah,” Sharon said, deflated.
David placed his hat back on his head and checked his watch. “Okay, it does sound like she left on her own, perhaps out of anger or wanting to give the two of you some space,” he said. “I'm going to head back to the station and see what I can do from there.”
Sharon nodded. “Thank you, David. I appreciate your help.”
He turned and made his way down the front steps, turning when she called out to him.
“How is Sweet Pea?” she asked.
He smiled. “She’s doing great. Slept on my chest all night,” he said. Sharon bowed her head and waved.
She watched him walk quickly back to his cruiser and drive away in the direction of downtown. Then she turned to the box on the coffee table and tore into it.
47
SHARON HELD THE RED silk dress from Astrid’s box of belongings up to herself and looked in the mirror. It was about two sizes too small, but beautiful. Sharon imagined Astrid walking through Nettlestone in it and had to laugh out loud.
“If she was anything at all like her sister, she was a piece of work,” she said to Rex as he sat gazing out the window from her closet bench. He gave her a quick nod of his dark, furry head, then focused his attention back on the outside world.
She tossed the dress back in the box and pulled out a black leather purse. The bag had plastic bamboo handles that clacked when Sharon held it. It had a pleasing weight to it, and Sharon turned to the mirror to model herself holding the item.
