Odditorium: A Novel Read Online Free Page B

the back of the line.
    “Gimme some more volume, Rox. I’m in a party state of mind.”
    “When haven’t you been in a party state of mind?” Tildy asked. “You ought to retire from ball and move to Vegas.”
    “Thinkin’ about it, thinkin’ about it … Come on, Roxie, make it loud … ‘Heart’s desire creates love desire, goin’ higher and higher….’ Woo, will you look at that. I just greased these hip joints this morning.” That’s-Mary slanted forward on the balls of her feet and shook her ass as if it was on fire. “I’m a tiptop bebop can’t-stop butt-monger.”
    “All right, T.M. Get down with it,” somebody shouted from the front of the line.
    “If you don’t watch that beer, Mary, I’ll be all over your butt like two miles of wet cement.”
    That’s-Mary patted the wet spot on Wanda’s back. “No harm in a little beer. You’re headed for the shower, ain’t you? We’re all headed for the shower. Hell, we ought to bust on in there and have us a shower party, all of us together.”
    “I ain’t into no freak scenes,” Wanda said flatly.
    Up front, there was growing concern about the hot water supply. They were kicking on the door and yelling. Heidi, who was the youngest and so absorbed with hygiene that she changed panties after every meal, had been in the bathroom for almost ten minutes now.
    “Open up, Heidi!”
    “Give somebody else a chance, huh? You think we don’t sweat just like you?”
    Tildy threw down her paper and stood up; the top towel came loose and her conoid breasts popped free, still wrinkled and pink from the steaming water. “Everybody’s welcome to shower in my room, but not with this mess going on. If you can’t cool down and stop acting like babies, I’m gonna throw everybody out.”
    “That’s fine for you. You already had your shower.”
    Vinnie, who had been lurking in the hall for some time hoping for a quick flash in the crowd of tit or bush, stepped inside rattling the keys that hung from his belt. “Let’s work it out, ladies. What’s the problem?”
    Tildy made no effort to cover up. “The problem, Vinnie, is this dog-shit motel you booked us into. If we had more than one shower, there wouldn’t be a problem.”
    Vinnie, who could not look at her, feigned interest in the swap-meet landscape painting on the wall. Autumn in Vermont, just like mother used to make.
    “We’re working on it,” he said.
    “Mm-hmm.” Tildy pulled a T-shirt over her head. “‘We’re working on it.’ You should have that tattooed across your chest.”
    “Aww, don’t be so hard on Coach. His daddy’s been after him all day long as it is.” That’s-Mary, who had bobby-pinned the empty beer cup to her hair as a party hat, twirled over to Vinnie and threw her arm around him. “Let’s have some fun, Coach. Wanna play a game with me?”
    Vinnie smiled up at her. She’s always so nice to me, he thought. No matter what. That’s Mary.
    It was he who had given her the name. During their first season, Pete had arranged to lease the team bus for a nominal cost with the understanding that free parking-lot tours would be conducted at each game. Patrons were encouraged to avail themselves of a photo opportunity, posing with Flora and the others in front of the sparkling Scenicruiser. One afternoon, at a youth camp outside Cairo, Illinois, Vinnie was conducting an old bat and her three grandkids through the vehicle, demonstrating the multiple settings of the reclining seats, the individual ventilation controls. He was about to throw open the door of the heavily chromed, ultraviolet-flush restroom, when he noticed a figure slumped across the rear seats. After a bottle or two of Tokay and a veal parmesan po’boy, the then Mari-ellen LoPinto had crawled onto the bus, passed out and vomited all over herself while asleep. The bat reeled back, pressing a hanky to her face and shooing the kids down the aisle.
    “Gee, I’m … uh, uh … that’s Mary,” Vinnie stammered