Aphrodite Shuddered - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Easy Come, Easy Go

15 seconds later:

After nearly being run over by Angie in the parking lot, I thought about following her but by now her old Cadillac was long gone. Not ready to face the gloominess of spending the night in an empty house, I instead drove to Caesar’s Palace and hung out at a casino bar for an hour, dropping quarters into poker machines embedded in the bar, sipping brandy and feeling sorry for myself: I’m so alone. I’ve never felt so lonely in my life...holy shit, check out the ass on that blonde! I'd love to take that for a spin. Inexplicably, the image of a spinning roulette wheel suddenly filled my mind as I gawked at the sexy blonde's firm derriere. The little white ball clattered around inside my skull for a few seconds and landed in the 23 slot. Then the cry of the stick man at the nearest roulette table rising above the electronic clamor of the slot machines: “Get your bets down, folks!” On some adventuresome impulse, I hustled over to his roulette wheel, bought a $100 chip and slapped it down on number 23 just in time. Moments later, the ball rattled into the 23 slot. After just one spin of the wheel, I walked away with three-dozen $100 chips, feeling the Floor Manager's eyes on my back as I went to the cashier's cage to cash them in.

Using psychic energy for one's own personal gain has always been frowned upon as "evil" by all the mystics throughout history. I justified this violation of Karmic Law by rationalizing that it had been totally unplanned, that it was meant to happen.

Having no further gambling premonitions, I decided to call Donna’s apartment from a casino payphone to find out if Angie had returned there. When Donna answered, I heard a soft click in the background – a phone tap? He informed me that Angie had not returned, and he also extended an invitation to come over right then, which I politely declined.

Too sleepy to drive the 20 miles back to Henderson this late at night, I drove the short distance to my recently vacated house in east Las Vegas, where I half-expected to find Angie, Teri and others throwing a wild party. But when I arrived, the house was dark. Once inside, I immediately laid myself down on a comfy old overstuffed couch, which Tina had forbidden me to move to our new house. I tried to get a few hours sleep, tossing and turning for an hour before finally dozing-off. Just then, I heard Angie screaming, “Den-ny, help me!”

Completely disorientated, I woke-up mumbling, “Angie, what the hell? What’s going on?” only to realize she was not there. Disgusted, I curled up and tried to get comfortable, but preoccupation about Angie made that impossible. With a frustrated sigh, I thought: I’ll try a remote view on her and see what she’s up to. I was very much out of practice, but as I lay there my body already felt like it was starting to float upward to the ceiling, the same feeling that usually washed over me whenever I attempted a remote view. I repeated my mantra out loud: “Go…go…go…” until all conscious thought was blocked out, and my body seemed to rise until I could look down on the tawdry glitter of downtown Las Vegas. When I started to drift north, I went with it, not wanting to break concentration. Within a few seconds I was hovering above one of the scarier neighborhoods in Las Vegas, about a mile from Donna's place. I let my unconscious mind guide me to Angie, and suddenly my astral body dropped through the roof of an old two-story house.

Upon “landing”, I found myself in a bedroom where Angie and Teri were trading hits off crack pipes with two wannabe gangsta types: young black dudes dressed in black Oakland Raiders attire. The movie Scarface, starring Al Pacino, was playing on a 10-year old TV with most of its control knobs missing, which nevertheless was cabled with HBO.

A middle-aged black woman with streaks of gray hair walked through the open doorway. She said, "Stanley, I know I owe you 20, but I'll get it to you on payday, 'kay? Am I good for another 20?"

"Shit, no - don't even fuck with me - here's a five-dollar rock. Don't come back without my 25 - by Friday. Now take a hike so I can entertain my ladies." The woman evaporated. A few seconds later, Deke came in from the living room, where other customers were getting stoned.

Deke: "Teri, loan me 20, okay?"

"Uh-uh. Shit, all I got is five bucks left to my name."

Angie said, "I'm broke too - now. We may as well split, Deke. Teri, can I spend the night with you?"

“Sure, honey. Come on Deke, we better get going. I can’t believe how late it's getting.”

Deke said, "Hang on - I'll be back in five minutes – there’s a cash machine right up the street."

Stanley said, “I got whatever ya need, bruh. Just get the money and I’ll set ya right up.” After Deke left, Stanley lightly punched the arm of his fellow gangsta. "C'mon, man, I wanna talk for a minute. Make yourselves at home ladies - shit, I know yer good for the money - go ahead and smoke that rock on the table. We'll be back in a minute."

I mentally followed Stanley and his younger cousin Kenny into the hallway. Stanley said, "Hey, that muthafucka's ol' man's a senator, so don't fuck with him."

"Aw - what's up? I was just playin' with ‘im earlier."

"Use yer brain. In this fuckin' city, political connections is how you get ahead. He's our friend, get it?"

"Yeah ah-ight, man. A senator's a big deal, huh."

"Yeah - he's in the biggest, baddest gang of all - Uncle Sam's."

"Heh-heh. So we got an alliance with Uncle Sam's gang, then."

"There, now you're thinkin'. Man, those two bitches are hot, huh."

"Hell yeah."

An elderly female voice called down from the top of the second-floor stairs: "Stanley, Kenny, I don't want any loud parties at this hour, now! Your friends woke me up."

"Ah-ight, grammaw," the guys replied, nearly in unison. Stanley told Kenny: "Run those muthafuckas in the front room outta here if they ain't got no money.” Stanley went back into the bedroom, and I followed him. "Check this shit out - this is my favorite part of the movie - 'Say hello to my li'l fren'!' Ha-ha. Teri, load me up a pipe." He tossed her a baggie containing several vials of crack. "Put your money on the table, ladies, if you want more. Can you believe that fool Russell gettin' kicked out of his first NBA game? They'll probably suspend his sorry ass without pay. Dumb muthafucka still owes me money, too." Stanley leaned on his elbow in bed. From the sofa, Teri held up the pipe. "Bring it over, honey. Sit with me awhile - get comfortable. Your boyfriend'll be gone for awhile.”

“Deke? My boyfriend? Ha – that’s pretty funny.” A bit unsteadily, Teri got to her feet and walked to Stanley’s bed. "Woo-ee, what a rush! Here you are, Baby Boy. I’ll have to wait till Deke gets back.” She joked, “Do you take anything in trade?"

"With you, I might consider it. You got legs that go up to yer neck." He ran a hand over Teri's bare, tanned legs when she reclined beside him.

Teri patted his face. "Up close, you look really young."

"Not really - I'm 19."

"Ooh - 19 - that's really old!” she teased.

Kenny came back into the room. "Fuck! That bitch Betty is a pain in the ass - I finally got rid of 'er." He glanced at the bed and then at Angie. "Uh, Annie - I mean Angie - you wanna beer or anything?"

Angie gave him a friendly smile, "A beer would be great!" When Kenny went to the kitchen, Angie said, "That's so cute - he's a little shy. Denny was like that when I met him."

"Who's Denny? Yer husband?" Stanley asked.

Revealing more than she had to, Angie said, "We live together, but we go out with other people once in a while. It works out great because he’s always out of town on business." This is why I always thought twice about mentally spying on Tina or Angie, or others close to me – because of the possibility of hearing things that would embarrass me or piss me off. As we all know, eavesdroppers rarely hear anything good about themselves.

The mental image started wavering due to my loss of concentration, so I repeated my “Go-go-go” mantra. As the mental picture strengthened again, Kenny returned to the bedroom, carrying two 40-ounce bottles of malt liquor. "Angie, is it ah-ight if I sit with ya?"

"Heh-heh - sure, sweetie. Park yourself right here." She patted a spot near her crossed knees.

They quickly drank most of the potent rotgut beer, and smoked more rock cocaine. A few minutes later during the end credits of Scarface , Stanley said, “Looks like that Deke dude ain’t coming back. If I know crackheads – which I sure enough fuckin’ do, he’s gonna score on the street and smoke it all himself.”

Teri said, “He’d better come back.” As if she didn’t want to sound ungrateful or in a hurry to leave, she added, “Eventually, I mean. He’s our ride home.”

Angie boozily said,"It's gonna be a long walk back to my car, heheh."

Stanley said, “If he don’t come back, you can always crash here with me.” He stroked Teri’s hair and gently kissed her mouth.

“Hmm. I might have to take you up on that offer. Deke is getting to be so damned unreliable.” Then Stanley whispered something secret to Teri that made her smile with her eyes half open. I believe he had said, “I got a reliable cock.”

Kenny, who had been focusing his attention on the movie, then asked Angie, “Hey, how old are you – 23? 24?"

Visibly intoxicated, Angie laughed with great delight. "What a flatterer! I'll be 30 in a few months." She was actually turning 31.

"Damn - you look good."

Angie clutched his arm and said jokingly: "For almost 30, you mean."

"Uh-uh - just good, period."

"You deserve a kiss for that!" Angie leaned over and gave Kenny an affectionate peck on the lips. She backed off for a moment and then, probably because she had guzzled so much malt liquor in a short time span, raised her mouth again to Kenny, who took full advantage, holding her arms and pulling her closer.

Stanley called over to Kenny, “Hey, li’l cuz is gonna get some leg tonight – ha! She was just sayin’ that her ol’ man doesn’t give her enough dick.” I was feeling a definite dislike of Stanley now. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he rolled the quite willing Teri atop his prone body and then fondled her ass under the short dress.

A few seconds later, Kenny moved Angie's right hand to his crotch. His nylon warm-up pants were so baggy that Angie easily slipped her hand down inside the waistband.

Kenny gasped, "Fuck - let's go to my room."

Angie teased, "Heh-heh - what'll we do in there?"

Getting angry again, I gave up and let my consciousness take over. Then I thought with vindictiveness: I’m not about to drive into that fucked-up part of town in the middle of the night just to give you a ride home from a crack house. You can walk 10 miles back to your car, for all I care. I’ll deal with you later. God I’m so damned tired….

I quickly drifted off to sleep, but within five minutes I was dreaming about Angie again. Now she was lying on two mattresses which were stacked together, and making out with Kenny, who was wearing only boxer shorts. He had Angie’s cut-offs pulled down off one ass cheek. Angie broke off from Kenny’s ardent kisses moaning, “Hold on, Kenny. Wait a minute, I don’t feel so good. Oh, God I'm so wasted.” Kenny started kissing her even harder and fondling her small breasts. She then pushed herself away from his arms. “Let me up – I’m serious. I drank all that beer and now I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Fuck! Bitch, if you puke on my bed, I’ll kick yer ass! Get the fuck off!”

Rolling out of bed, Angie hiccupped and then ran out of the room, barely making it out before vomiting about a quart of beer on the hall floor. Catching her breath, she said, “I’m so sorry – I’ll clean it up, okay?”

Looking like he was trying mightily to keep himself from strangling her to death, he shouted, “Clean that shit up and hit the street, bitch? Get all yer shit and get the fuck outta here.”

“Oh God I’m sorry, Kenny.” She whimpered, “I wanna go home! Kenny, would you loan me 10 bucks for cab fare? I swear I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon and pay you back double.”

“You crazy bitch! Go out on 10^th Street and sell yer ass if you want some money. You rich ho's make me sick! Stay on the muthafuckin’ eastside where ya belong , crack ho'...”

My eyes snapped open, and I felt wide awake. That dream had been so realistic that I assumed that most of it was true. “Arrr! Why do I even bother?” I groaned while putting my shoes on. Kenny had mentioned 10^th Street, which in his neighborhood was notorious for its drugs and hookers. I didn’t want her wandering around drunk at 2am in that part of Vegas, so I threw on my coat went searching for her. It took me only five minutes to drive to Kenny’s neighborhood. Then a sight that left me gobsmacked: At the corner of 10^th and Stewart, a barefoot Angie was hanging around a group of young hookers on the sidewalk.

While parking in a bus zone 50 feet away from Angie, I got the disorienting feeling that my presence here would be the cause of the very trouble I had foreseen. As I have mentioned, psychic ability can backfire when you use it for your own purposes - it becomes merely a reflection of your own will.

A buxom, overweight black girl with crack pipe burns on her mouth was giving Angie dirty looks, while Angie, twitching her cute little butt back and forth, flirted with the driver of the Mercedes limo parked at the curb – virtually identical to the Mercedes I had seen just hours ago. When the black girl started talking loudly to the cluster of whores on the corner, I got the impression that Angie was not welcome here - no doubt she was horning-in on the other girls' territory.

Now a Porsche 944 slid in between me and the Mercedes, so the girls went into their act: "Wanna date? Baby, I'll deep-throat it - har-har! Three holes for 50 bucks, honey!"

While that went on, the Mercedes sped away from the curb. Either the driver had recognized my car, or Angie had somehow failed to make a deal. Then she strutted over to the Porsche. The big black girl said to Angie: "Go work the south side, bee-itch!"

"He waved me over! Can I help it if he don't like you?"

"Bitch don't gimme no lip! I'll kick your ass and then I'll kick that fake-pimp Kenny's ass! You sashay up in here like you all that." Angie was unfazed, since she had already heard it all from Tina through the years.

The driver of the shiny silver-colored Porsche leaned over the passenger's seat and then the door popped open. When Angie started to get in the car, the scary streetwalker yanked the back of Angie's blonde bob.

I nearly jumped out of my hide when an intimidatingly loud horn blasted behind me - a city bus was right on my ass. "Shit - now what?" I asked myself while clearing out of of the bus zone. Then I double-parked next to the Porsche and yelled out the passenger’s side window: "Angie! Get your ass over here - get in the goddamned car!" Angie must not have heard me, as she had just then punched her hulking nemesis. She had shown pretty good form, snapping two short left-jabs to the jaw - Tina had taught her well. An image of tomorrow's possible newspaper headline drifted across my mind:

Williamson Campaigner Busted In Hooker Melee

After I bellowed at her again, Angie finally saw my face. Now it was her turn to be disoriented, mortification showing in her staring eyes. A split-second later, a fist blindsided the left side of her face, so down she fell to the sidewalk. A gang of girls began kicking Angie, who rolled up in a fetal position and cried in pain and fear. Think, you idiot - they're gonna kill her!

"Den-ny! Help me!"

The departing city bus nearly clipped me as I got out of the car. When I jumped out of the way, my US Government identification fell out of my back pocket. Picking it up, I had a ridiculous idea which I implemented immediately: "Federal Agent! Freeze!" I yelled as authoritatively as I could. Running up to the girls, I flashed my impressive-looking Department of Agriculture Inspector badge inside its leatherette folder. I said, “U.S. Marshal Service! Back off, please, she has AIDS.” Grabbing Angie by the arm, I intoned, "Angie Dragna, you are under arrest for violation of The Federal AIDS Quarantine Act. Ladies, don't get her blood on you - she's in an advanced state of infection!" Just like I had silently prayed, the crowd scattered in panic, at least for the moment. The Porsche smoked its tires as it peeled away from the scene.

"God Angie, get up before they come back. I can't fight off those banshees."

"Oh, Den, my teeth are looth," she lisped while getting to her feet.

Pushing her towards the car, I replied, "Never mind that - let's get outta here."

While running around the front of the car, I saw Kenny come slinking around the corner, just in time to run into the gang of fleeing hookers. The menacing girl who had punched Angie screamed at Kenny: "That honky bitch - she got muthafuckin' AIDS, fool!" Her upraised, shaking fist still had Angie's blood on it.

“Don't touch me, bitch!" Kenny yelled in distress, back-pedaling away from them. Now the girls chased Kenny back toward us.

Shit, the goddamned door is stuck again! Why didn't I fix the fucker when I had the chance? I banged on the side window. "Angie, help me with this door! Give it good kick! Oh Christ." The hooker who slugged Angie earlier was trying to open the passenger door, with Angie yanking it shut from the other side. I froze in place for an instant, wracking my brain for an idea that wouldn't get us killed or put in jail. Sensing that a repeat of my feeble "federal agent" ploy was bound to fail, I pulled the wad of 36 crisp new $100 bills from my coat pocket and flung it at the mob. The scene instantly transformed into a kind of feeding frenzy - money fluttering erratically to the sidewalk, everyone savagely punching and stomping each other while scurrying to grab the breeze blown bills. We were all but forgotten by the mob of hookers - and by tossing away the money, my karma was back in balance.

Driving away from the scene as casually as possible, I asked her, "You need a doctor? Dentist, maybe? They really kicked the shit out of you good, huh. I feel like doing that to you myself."

"I-I was only try-trying to get a ride home! Bah-ha-HOO!" she wailed.

"Tina's only been gone for two days, so you go off the deep end? Doing dumb shit like this is the reason she left in the first place. You know, Angie, if you wanna be a whore you'll have to take better care of yourself. You look like a swollen-faced pig and you smell like a polecat - "

"Shut-up-shut-up! WAAAAH!" Sniffing back tears, she asked, "What are you doing here at this hour? I didn't know you went in for street whores."

"Oh stop making a fool out of yourself! Somebody told me where you were - and no, I won't say who. Where's your fucking car, anyway?"

Angie daubed her bloody lip with a tissue and winced. "It's at Teri's place in North Vegas."

"This is insane, Angie. You're going to rehab - I'm putting my foot down, for once."

"I'll go, Den - I promise. In a few months."

"What!"

"There's two fundraisers next week, the Arizona primary next month - and-and - "

"Fine! Just don't expect me to be around to save your ass next time.” But deep down I suspected that I was always going to be around to save her ass.

* * *

Five days later:

After hitting rock bottom, Angie appeared to have been scared straight, yet I knew from experience that her good behavior was merely temporary. And like the other times she had sworn off cocaine, her alcohol intake increased dramatically. I was in no position to criticize her for that, considering the fact that I was drinking right alongside her.

We immersed ourselves in the Williamson campaign, in preparation for an increased fund raising effort in the event that Williamson actually did well in the New Hampshire Primary next Tuesday. However, if he finished worse than third, the campaign was all but doomed and I would probably pull the plug on the committee. Should he still be in the running, our committee was ready to sink $100,000 into a Williamson For President radio advertising blitz in Arizona, and a mass-mailing of campaign literature to 100,000 registered voters. We had scored our first real political victory that week in getting the endorsement of the most powerful politician in Nevada - Senator Dodder - who publicly stated that he approved of Williamson’s plan, if elected president, to cut federal spending and to decrease the National Debt.

As for the senator’s son Deke, I was still very steamed at him for taking Angie to a crack house - and especially for leaving her there - but again, out of respect for the senator I decided not to punch him out – not yet. But I finally laid it on the line with Angie: If she ever went out with Deke or Teri again, or ever set foot in a crack house again, I would turn over the chairmanship of the committee to her mortal enemy, Mary Jo Jenkins, who already was Williamson's Southwest Region Campaign Manager. I then told her: “And if that happens, you’ll have enough free time to spend a month in drug rehab.” My bosses in Washington wouldn't like it if I dropped out of the committee, but I didn't have to be psychic to know that inevitably I was going to stumble onto illegal activity in the Williamson campaign, forcing me to choose between being a rat or a being a liar.

On Wednesday that week, Donna happily informed Angie over the phone that the Mirage Hotel had just hired him to perform his Donna Summer impersonation act in their casino lounge, tripling his earnings to $2,500 per week. Before then, Donna had been doing his popular singing act at the Las Vegas TV Watchers Club. We made plans to be at his show this coming Friday night.

Next day, on the way to the committee office, I strongly suspected that I was being followed by non-descript black 1970s-model Fords and Lincolns, which showed-up seemingly at every turn, as if I were suddenly living in an old episode of Hawaii Five-0. Those kinds of cars where favored by my old employer – DISC - but their physical surveillance of me had supposedly stopped because of John Gall’s influence on the National Security Council.

By Friday afternoon, fed up with being tailed, I got on my encrypted cell phone and called John Gall from the committee office. With my voice reduced to a near-whisper, I asked him, “John, what the hell is going on? For the past two days I’ve been followed everywhere by the Keystone Kops – they’re not exactly subtle about it. And a guy in a black Ford’s been parked in a no parking zone across the street all day."

“Your old employers try to be inconspicuous but they really should get new cars. Do you have the plate numbers?"

"No. I tried to get the numbers but he took off - then he came back."

"Let me see what I can do - I'll call you back in an hour or so."

I tried to figure out why I was suddenly attracting so much attention, since I hadn’t been doing anything unusual as of late - aside from rescuing Angie from that mob of hookers. The heavy physical surveillance began right after Angie had spoken to Donna on the phone on Wednesday, but I couldn’t imagine why “they” would start tailing me just because of that. The only reason that it even occurred to me was because of Donna's personal connection to Cliff Williamson.

For the next hour, I kept a weather-eye on the black Ford LTD still parked across the street from the committee office. Just before we were to lock-up for the day, a sinister-looking Cadillac pulled in behind it. The LTD abruptly took off, speeding west on Fremont Street.

Five minutes later I received a call back from Gall. As I entered the men’s room to get some privacy, he said, “The Nevada plate numbers on that car are non-existent, surprise-surprise. Why the sudden interest, I wonder. What have you been up to lately? Anything that you could be blackmailed or manipulated with?”

Embarrassed to tell him about the incident with Angie last Saturday, I replied, "Um, well, maybe." After a long pause, I said, "There’s something going on with Angie. She’s got a problem with drugs and booze, but nothing that could be used to blackmail me, but maybe her. I’m seriously thinking about getting her into rehab as soon as possible.”

“That’s it? That’s your horrible secret?”

“Yep.”

“All right. Just make sure you stay clear of the drugs yourself.”

“Hey, I’m not into that scene – not anymore, that is."

"So, what are you up to for the next few days, so I can place a few operatives ahead of time. You got any plans?”

“Tonight Angie and I are going down to the Mirage Hotel for a few hours, that’s all. At around 10 o’clock.”

“Did you or Angie talk to anybody about that over the phone?”

“Yeah, sure – a few times. Do you think that’s why they’re following me? Because I’m going there?”

“That sounds as logical as anything else. Any reason you can think of why they – whoever they are - would be interested in that place?”

I flushed the noisy toilet in order to drown out my voice. Then I told Gall about an incident that occurred one year ago when I was still working for DISC, when I overheard Mr Webb and Mr Lock talking about a secret operation they were running at a local hotel - which they never mentioned by name. Perhaps that hotel had been the Mirage. “Maybe they were running a honey trap there,” I guessed amateurishly. A honey trap is the oldest trick in the espionage handbook - sexual blackmail.

“It could be anything – or nothing at all. Well, have fun but keep your eyes and ears open and your phone handy. Our boys’ll keep you company while you’re there."

"All right. By the way, I wish you guys would hurry up put me back to work.”

"Well, there have been some technical delays. The good news is that your security upgrade should get approved soon, since the issue of your girlfriend has died down, thankfully - the public doesn't seem to care anymore. But all of that aside, the Old Man is quite satisfied with what you are doing now - with the committee. It looks like your pal has a better chance of getting nominated than he believed, at first. It was very prescient of you to get involved with his campaign so early, huh." It sounded like he still believed I really had had a premonition about Williamson winning the election, but I didn't take the bait this time.

"If you're going to keep me stuck here in Vegas, I don't know what good I can do for the the Old Man - the committee is strictly legit. We don't allow any money laundering or other illegal scams." That was also meant for whoever else was listening-in on my end, in case the place actually was bugged.

"If your friend does well enough in the primaries, perhaps he'll reward you with a better job in the campaign."

COPYRIGHT 2012 BY K.D. BISHOP

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New Air Force Secret Craft, UFO, Hoax?

Here's an intriguing new video of a supposed "flying saucer"taken near Roswell, New Mexico. Assuming it isn't computer generated or otherwise hoaxed, it must be property of the U.S. government - U.S. Air Force insignia is visible on the "craft", at the end of the video. If it is real, it could be some kind of new vertical take-off and landing aircraft, using thrust vectoring.

Aphrodite Shuddered - Chapter 21

Chapter 21:

Change of Heart

The morning after her face-slapping fight with Tina, Angie called me from the committee headquarters. I tried talking her into coming home, but she insisted that she needed some time apart from us. Angie told me, “I’m staying at Donna's apartment for a few days, after she – I mean he – invited me. The nice thing is that his apartment is only a few blocks from here. But then again I might be in the way, what with Deke coming over all the time.” Then she snickered suggestively.

Oh my God – Donna and Deke? I thought, and not wanting to discuss it over the phone. “You know, you can always stay at our Vegas house. Or you could stay at Tim and Jane’s.”

"Uh-uh - I might run into Tina there, too. Right now, the way I feel, I couldn’t stand being under the same roof with her. Anyway, I'm way busy right now, Den. I'm flying up to Carson City before the caucus to meet some of Senator Dodder's friends in the legislature.” The upcoming state caucus allocated half of Nevada's delegates to the Democratic National Convention, with the Nevada Primary in April providing the other half.

"How's it look? Do the party big-wigs like Cliff much?"

"We got a few endorsements, but most of them are going with Burt Gort, of course. We should win between a quarter or a third of the Las Vegas area delegates. But a lot of Democrats in northern Nevada support Periwinkle, who ain't even a Democrat. Gawd, he’s such a flake. I bet a hundred-dollars with Mary Jo that Cliff will finish second - she thinks he'll finish third."

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. Tina, lolling on the sofa, yawned and said, "I suppose you’re gonna sneak off and see ‘er, huh."

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. She’s staying with Donna and Deke.”

"Man, are they ever freaks! They even make you look normal. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was gettin’ fucked by both of them.”

“Oh that’s ridiculous!”

Tina guffawed and said, “You should see the look on your face! Jealous, Herc? Isn’t it a little late in the game for that?” Any jealousy was tempered by the memory of my recent escapades with Marta and Megan.

“Maybe I am jealous – but I also don’t want a total fuck-up like Deke associated with the committee. Christ, if the local media catch wind of him being involved with a

transsexual – “

Tina waved her hand. “Yeah-yeah whatever, Herc. You’re jealous, ah-ight.”

* * *

Life at home was getting so out of balance - I couldn't remember spending so much time alone with Tina, who must have felt some emptiness - Angie having been her loyal confidant/lover for so long. And we were bickering even more than usual, now that Angie was gone. Although Tina and I had been occupied all week with our separate responsibilities and social circles, I wondered why we hadn't had sex in the past four nights. It wasn't from lack of desire on my part. Tina had begged-off last night because she was "tired", but obviously our disparate feelings about Angie were building a wall between us. All that was put aside as I watched the late local TV news, on the day of the Nevada Caucus: "This just in to NewsControlCenter11: Deke Dodder - son of Nevada Senator Clem Dodder - tonight was booked into Carson City jail on charges of indecent exposure, disorderly conduct and possession of a controlled substance. The former star quarterback at UNLV was arrested in a public restroom at a city park near the State Capitol building, notorious as a sexual rendezvous point for gay males, earlier this evening..."

Suspecting that Angie was somehow mixed-up in this, I phoned her Carson City hotel room a few times, but there was no answer. For awhile, I believed she had been arrested too. I even tried a Remote View to locate her, but I too stressed-out to concentrate hard enough. Next morning, Tina was standing by the answering machine, listening to Angie leaving a message. I walked up beside her and grumbled, "Jeez, why don't you answer the fucking phone?" I picked up the receiver and said, "Hi, Angie. I just walked through the door."

Angie asked, "Is Tina around?"

"No - hey, where are you? Are you all right?"

"Of course, Den. I just flew back into town a few hours ago. Did you hear about

Deke - "

"Yeah. Lets talk about it later."

"Okay. I was at the hotel at the time, so I don't really know what happened," she said, probably lying. "The good news is that we got 30 percent of the vote yesterday in the caucus!" she said excitedly. She had also won her bet with Mary Jo.

"I know. That's great, Angie, but he'll still have to do well in the primary. Hell, if he doesn't make a decent showing in New Hampshire, it'll be over long before they get to Nevada anyhow. Contributions are up though, which is great."

"Hey, are we just gonna talk politics? Don't you miss me, Den?"

"Yeah - very much." I glanced over at Tina. "Even Tina misses you a lot." Tina flipped me an obscene gesture and walked out of the living room.

"Would you like to come over and visit me?" Angie asked, her soft voice zinging my heart. I hadn't seen her since her fight with Tina last week.

“Sure, I’ll be there in an hour or so, sweetie.” Upon hearing me calling Angie "sweetie", Tina pretended to stick her finger down her throat and retched. After hanging up the phone, I told Tina: "I'm going to drive into Vegas and visit Angie for awhile."

Seemingly primed for an argument, Tina said, "Oh yeah? Well, I don't really care who you fuck. Just make sure you take care of this kid." She patted her nearly flat stomach, just beginning show the form of a growing baby. "Take care of it financially, at least. I'll raise the kid by myself if I have to."

I couldn't understand why she broached that subject. "Hey, haven't I treated you really good? It's all down on paper. If we ever break-up, one-third of all I got is yours, as you well know. Our kid'll be able to attend Harvard, it'll be so well provided for." I slowly moved toward the doorway and said, "I'll be back pretty soon. Will you still be here when I get back?"

"I doubt it. Being home alone is boring as shit." As I turned to leave she said, "Um, say hi to Shortie for me - just hi."

* * *

Angie and I kissed for long seconds as soon as I entered Donna’s apartment. She was barefoot and wearing little clothing, just very short denim cut-offs and a white tank-top. When she started rubbing my fly, I hissed, "Sorry it took me so long - the traffic was murder. Is anybody else around?" I reached down and unbuttoned Angie's cutoffs.

"Donna's downstairs at the pool. Christ, he looks better in a bikini than I do! "

"I, I really missed you, Angie. I want you. Do you want me?" I wrapped my arms around her waist again, pulling her warm body against me.

Softly: "God yes, Den."

After yet another passionate kiss, I felt a slight numbness on my tongue - from a trace of cocaine in her saliva, but I didn't say anything. All I wanted now was to bury my face between her thighs. I asked, "Are you sure this is okay with Donna?"

"Of course it is, silly. Come with me." Taking my hand, she led me to the guest bedroom.

Once inside, I said, "Get your clothes off."

"Mmmm - yeah," she chuckled while wriggling out of her tight cut-offs.

A few minutes later, her feet were kicking air as I devoured her smoothly shaved snatch. When the front door to the apartment opened and then thudded shut, it barely registered in my mind. The bedroom door then cracked open just as Angie pleaded to me, "Oh! Oh! Stick it in, Den! I'm gonna cum!" lifting her ass up to meet my probing tongue. I glanced up and observed Donna standing in the shadows, observing us. I pretended not to have noticed and the door slowly shut.

After I experienced three orgasms, reality set in, making me ask myself: What am I gonna tell Tina? As little as possible, that's what. Why should she care anyway? She's seen me screwing Angie hundreds of times. After deciding to leave, I got out of bed and got dressed as Angie took a shower. I idly looked through the partially open bedroom closet and noticed the video camera sitting on a tripod inside. I looked closer - the camera wasn't running. During the brief drive home from Donna's place, I braced myself for the consequences when I arrived there.

The house was silent and dark when I entered. "Tina, where are ya?" Her new pink VW Rabbit was parked at the curb, so I knew she was home. I got mentally prepared for an argument, because whenever Tina was quiet it meant she was very angry with me and/or Angie. At home, I was happiest when Tina was hollering and slamming doors.

I was startled to find her naked in my bedroom, where she was admiring her tummy in the mirror. "I barely even show yet, Hercules."

Leaning against the door jamb, I said, "You look so good standing there."

Still looking in the mirror, she said, "Well you’re back early. I figured you'd be gone all day. So, where's Shortie stayin' these days? A crack house down by the railroad tracks?"

I barked a humorless laugh. "Tina, I fucked Angie today, all right? Now, can we just skip the drama and move on?" I had found early on that with Tina, the best way to deal with an issue was to bring it out in the open immediately.

"Move on - very appropriate, Hercules. So, you fucked Angie. Aw, that's so sweet," she said with mock politeness.

"I thought you didn't care about that!"

"Did you fuck that freak Donna, too?" Before I could reply indignantly, all of her built-up resentment spilled out: "I ain't gonna let that that woman drag me down - I got a future!" Now she put on her robe. "If you go back to her and her sick friends, she'll drag you down with her." Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. "Are ya stupid, muthafucka? Hasn't your dumb ass figured out that The Three Musketeers shit is over? Now grow up and make up your mind or I'm movin' on for good. Don't you dare laugh, but Lance Steele's asked me to marry him – I ain’t decided yet - "

"What!" I said in an off-key tone. Then I muttered, "Shit - he'll be dead in a few years."

"And so will you, the road you’re takin'.”

“And our kid? Does he know he’ll be raising my kid? Assuming he lives long enough to get that far.”

“Of course he knows."

Haltingly I said, "I, I've been thinking that maybe we'd get married someday."

"You sat on the fence too long, Herc. Maybe we'll get married? Someday? Sweet Jesus, I can't believe you sometimes - you can't make a commitment even if your life depended on it."

"How am I supposed to know when to take you seriously? The few times that we have talked about marriage, you acted like it was a big joke. And I can't even remember how long it's been since you said you love me. I bet you can't even say it right now."

"Sure I can - 'you love me'."

"Hilarious. Actually, you have said it, but it took a major earthquake."

"Well maybe I'd say it more often if you did something to deserve it."

"That is so fucking crazy! What do I have to do for you - bring you the broomstick of the Wicked Witch of the West?"

She harrumphed in general agreement. "Something like that, Tinman. Aren't you the one who's always quoting that Ayn Rand broad? 'Love a man for his virtues, not for his faults'? Anyway, henceforth your pussy access is denied until further notice, though I'm sure you'll manage somehow. If you need to contact me, I'll be staying with Marta. I already made the arrangements. If I'm not there, I'll be in New York on a photo shoot - I'll call you." While I slumped in a chair and sulked, Tina went to her bedroom and packed a suitcase.

Being called Tinman had stung me: No heart? God, what does she want from me? Every-fucking-thing! She came back into my room and adopted a more conciliatory tone: "I need time away from this shitty fuckin’ town, Hercules - and think about things, y’know? Well, I'm ready to go."

She looked completely different to me now - a beautiful stranger. The hot spark between us had seemingly burnt out, almost overnight. When I kissed her goodbye, it felt only slightly sexier than kissing my mother.

I spent the rest of the day and night at home by myself, proceeding to get rip-roaring drunk for the first time in years, savoring sullen loneliness while watching bad horror movies on TV, my mood bouncing from mawkish self-pity to a euphoric high as I contemplated the advantages of being a bachelor in Las Vegas. Then wallowing in despair again before passing out in the middle of the night.

I awoke at noon the next day with one of the worst hangovers in my life. Two hours later, I finally turned the phone's ringer on and the answering machine back on. Within minutes, I got a call from Angie: "Hi, Den! I've been trying to call for hours. How's it going?"

"Don't ask," I said with a raspy voice. "I got drunk as a skunk last night."

"Poor baby! Hey, can I talk to Tina, Den? I really should - "

"She's gone, Angie - maybe for good. We had a big fight after I saw you yesterday."

"Ohh!" she sympathetically groaned, although I detected a bit of malicious happiness.

"Maybe I could come over when I'm done at the committee office? I got to finish the FEC quarterly report."

"Yes, Den. Come over soon as you can. Last time was awesome - heheh."

"Is Deke hanging around today? You know how I feel about that joker."

"He’s at his dad’s place, as usual.”

When I arrived there late in the afternoon, Donna effusively greeted me at the front door: "Hey baby!” He kissed me so quickly I didn’t have a chance to evade it. The kiss wasn’t unpleasant, but I didn’t want to encourage him further. “So,” said Donna. "That bitch Tina walked out on you? Hell, she ain't goin' anywhere, honey, you'll see."

Glumly I said, "I dunno - she's never done this before." Then my emotions swung the other way: "But forget about it - for some reason, I'm in a partying mood now." So much for my resolution not to encourage him.

"There ya go, baby! Fuck all of our problems and let's have a little fun.”

"What's Angie up to? Is she here?"

"She's at the store - shouldn't be gone long." Donna patted a seat next to him on the brocade couch so I sat there. Donna certainly smelled womanly at close quarters, and not a trace of Adam's Apple was apparent - no wonder I had been fooled the first I met him.

For lack of anything else to talk about, I said, “Hey, Deke sure got out of jail quick, huh. Do you suppose that his father being a U.S. Senator had anything to do with it?"

Donna joked, "You think so?"

I laughed along with him and then said, "You know what? I totally thought you were a woman, for days after I met you."

Donna was delighted, brushing my thigh with slender, manicured fingers. "Thanks for the sweet compliment, baby! And you didn't even put up a fight when I kissed you just now."

His fingers had crept uncomfortably close to my zipper. Oh Christ, I'm starting to get a fucking erection! Desperate to change the subject, I said. “I just realized – Cliff Williamson is from Savannah - same as you!”

Donna wistfully said, “What a sweetheart he is – I worked for him as a volunteer on his very first campaign – before I started the hormone treatments got the boob job, that is." He opened the front of his ermine housecoat and flashed giant knockers. "I hadn’t talked to him in years, until I ran into him at The Life Club last New Year’s Eve.”

“I tend to avoid that club now, since I got mixed-up in politics.” It seemed a strange coincidence that Donna had just happened to reunite with Cliff in Las Vegas, but I didn't pursue it - he could have learned about Cliff being in town from any number of sources, and then looked him up at the club. Now I noticed a framed 8 x10 photograph on the end table beside Donna. I gestured to it and said, "That guy looks familiar somehow." He looked like a local pro basketball player I had seen at a game.

"That's my boyfriend Russell - "

"You mean Russell Overton? The guy who plays for the Las Vegas Aces?" The Aces was the local minor league team.

"That's him, baby. He just got called up to the L.A. Lakers this week - isn't that too cool? Only a 10-day contract but he sure needs the money. The Lakers are on TV tonight - you want to watch it with me?"

"Sure, sounds like fun. He might even actually play in the game."

Just then there was a loud bump at the front door. Angie said in a high pitched voice, "Donna, get the door please - help!" Donna then opened the door for Angie, who carried two bags of liquor and food inside. Angie said, “Hi Denny! How’s it going, sweetie? Did Donna molest you while I was gone?”

I laughed ruefully. “Ha-ha that’s a good one, Shortie."

Donna said, "I tried, dearie, but lover boy wasn't going for it."

"Denny's about 99 percent straight. But I got a few stories I could tell about the other one percent - "

I interjected, "That's enough, already." When their laughter died down, I told Angie, "I was just thinking, Tina's out of town by now, so you should come home with me. We ought to leave pretty soon, after you collect all your stuff - "

Donna, play-acting hurt feelings, said, "Awww, ain't we going to have our little party, baby? Eat some chips and watch the game?"

Angie said, "Yeah, Den. Donna's boyfriend is gonna play in it. Let's hang out here awhile." Soon the game started. After the Lakers’ starting power-forward twisted his knee six minutes into the game, the TV announcer blared: "Now coming into the game for the Lakers is Russell Overton, the 24-year old rookie free agent from Georgia Tech. He's played the past two seasons with the Las Vegas Aces of the Intercontinental Basketball Association, where this season he was averaging 18 points and 9 rebounds per games before being signed by the Lakers..." Within a few minutes of entering the game, Russell leaped high for an offensive rebound then and stuffed the ball back into the hoop on his way down - the shocked crowd cheered madly. Donna squealed in delight, "Oh, that was great!" He planted celebratory kisses on my left cheek.

When the TV camera scanned the court side Hollywood celebrities at halftime, the announcer said, "There's Jack Nicholson, of course, and there's Lance Steele, and sitting next to him is Tina - "

"TINA!" I yelled very loudly. Angie, not paying close attention to the game, instinctively glanced around the room as if fearing that Tina was in the apartment. Pointing at the screen, I breathlessly informed her: "Tina's at the damned game, Angie! In the front row next to Lance Steele."

When a player dribbled the ball past Tina's and Lance's seats, Angie said, "There she is! What a fuckin' trip. Well, Den, I guess she won't be coming home tonight." I had believed that Tina was bluffing about marrying Steele, but actually seeing her with him made reality hit home.

A minute later, the game action grabbed my attention again : "Overton makes a quick pivot in the post - and he slam-jams it home! That's eight points in the third quarter by Russell Overton! The Lakers are up by one as Larry Bird in-bounds the ball..."

Donna said gleefully: "Russ is really showing out! He'll make millions if he plays his cards right."

We intently watched the exciting finish to the game. With less than a minute to play, the Lakers' announcer loudly yelled: "Magic Johnson from Three-Point Land - good! Magic has 18 points - wait - there's a disturbance down on the Celtics' bench. Russell Overton is trying to get at one of the Celtics. Oh no, he's taking a swing at Len Renko for some reason..." A wild melee erupted, with a half-dozen players trying to pull Russell and Renko apart. Russell managed to connect with a right hand on Renko's cheek before they could be separated.

Donna bawled, "I knew that loser would blow it somehow! 'Bye-bye millions - hello sponge off Donna again!"

I asked, "Why would he go after that Len Renko guy?"

"Len Renko? Ugh! I remember that asshole when he played for Albuquerque last year and was in town for a game. After the game, Russ took me to The Crazy Stallion Saloon - a lot of the players like to hang-out there, and that jerk was there too. He asked if I'd go out with him next time he came to town, but I turned him down because he was drunk on his ass, acting like a real shit heel to the strippers that worked there. I didn't tell Russ about it til we got home - he would have started some shit at the club if I had." Donna covered his mouth with his hand and then said in realization, "Oh fuck - I wonder if he said anything about me to Russ during the game - Russ is such a fucking hot-head."

I tried to reassure him: "Wait-a-minute, Donna. Anything could have set him off."

"Oh, what difference does it make? I'm fucked any way you look at it. The Lakers will probably ship his sorry ass back home after this shit!"

As we watched the last few seconds of the game – which the Lakers lost, due to Russell's antics – someone entered the apartment without knocking. It was Deke. He held out his hand to me and said, "It's great to finally see you again, Denny." Shaking hands, it surprised me that such a muscular young guy had such a weak grip.

"Hi. Sorry about the first time we met - Tina wasn't on her best behavior that night."

He laughed and said, "Can't say I blame her too much, since it was two in the morning."

"How's the senator doing these days?"

"The old goat is fine, but I'm on his shit list as you can imagine," he replied, referring to his recent arrest in Carson City. "But that was a set-up by dad's political enemies. They knew I was in Carson City for the caucus - you have no idea how dirty politics are."

"I'm learning fast, though." Then I gave Deke a hard look in the eye. "That's why I told Angie to stay away from drugs."

He pretended not to know that I was irked with him, looking me straight in the eye unconvincingly. He said, off the point: "See what I mean about enemies? After they arrested me downtown, I didn't even tell the police where I was staying, but somehow they found out immediately and raided my suite at the Silver Nugget." That was the same hotel where Angie had stayed in Carson City. I then sensed one of his thoughts, a surge of overweening male arrogance: I fucked your old lady!

Unthinkingly I blurted a retort under my breath: "Aw hell, Angie's had better." I got the sudden urge to knock the smug look off his face, but his father being a U.S. Senator made me think twice. As Senator Dodder was a “super delegate”, his endorsement, and in turn those of his state politician friends, would give Williamson more Nevada delegates than any other candidate.

Deke looked perplexed. "Huh? What was that?"

"I was saying that having political enemies is the best reason to stay out of trouble in the first place." I glanced over at Angie and said, “Well, Angie and I were just leaving.”

Donna groaned, “Awww, so soon?”

“Afraid so, We need to get up early and get to the campaign office,” I said, just making an excuse to leave.

Angie said, “But that’s right down the street, Den. Why don’t we just crash here and save the drive home and back?”

“Naw. Grab your purse, Angie.” Still flush with anger about Deke, I felt I would say something I would later regret if we didn't leave immediately.

Walking downstairs to the parking lot, I told Angie, “Every time I see that idiot, I want to punch his lights out. So what all went on with him in Carson City, anyway? You sleep with him yet?”

“How can we be together, when you don’t fuckin’ trust me!”

“It's not a matter of trust! I’m just pissed that you’d take-up with a loser like him, and - ”

I don’t know what Angie blubbered in reply, because I was too preoccupied watching a dark Mercedes limo with blacked-out windows parked on the street abutting the parking lot. The fancy car stuck out in this gone-to-seed section of Vegas. I told Angie to shut-up and get in my car, and then, being naturally curious I walked a short distance in order to read the limo's rear license plate. It sped away before I could see it clearly, but it had routine-looking Nevada plates, not government vehicle plates. Probably just an off-duty limo driver trawling for drugs between jobs, I supposed. Walking back to the lot behind Donna’s apartment, I heard a car engine revving angrily, the loud whooshing sound unmistakably coming from Angie’s 1962 Cadillac Coupe DeVille. Since she had drunk too much bourbon as usual, we had planned to leave in my Camero and pick-up her car later, but evidently she was pissed about my accusation about her and Deke. I finally returned to my rational senses then, realizing I could have been mistaken about them. My jealousy may have played a mental trick on me, causing me to believe I had read Deke's thoughts, when in reality it was merely my insecurity reflecting back on me.

The Caddy's tires squealing, I had to slip between parked cars to avoid getting run over as she sped by, flipping me the bird on her way out of the parking lot. I now regretted having accused her. But then again, the innocent don’t run away - only the guilty, which from my own past behavior I knew to be true. 
COPYRIGHT 2012 BY K.D. BISHOP 

Aphrodite Shuddered - Chapter 20

Chapter 20:

The High Cost of Living

The rest of the week passed as slowly as water torture. Our initial panic about Tina’s old porn videos began to subside by Christmas Eve morning, but then, Inside Scoop reported that evening: "Merry Christmas from Hollywood! Was Tina Kincaid - Hollywood's newest sensation - a porno actress in her younger days? Here's Jerry Kravitz with the inside scoop.”

Overweight, middle-aged Kravitz appeared on-sceen. "Thanks, Pauline! One of my secret informants in Los Angeles has given me a video tape, in which hot new actress Tina Kincaid appears to be engaging in sex acts with multiple partners! We'll be right back with edited highlights of that tape!"

I answered the phone. "Denny, it's happening!" hissed Angie.

"Calm down, and don't watch TV. I want you to get home now."

"I have to see it, so I know how bad it is. Meet me at Tim's house, Den. Jane's throwing a Christmas party. Helluva Christmas, huh."

After the commercials, Kravitz said, "Last week, I asked Ms Kincaid if she had indeed performed in adult videos, but she refused to be interviewed for this story."

In a video-clip, Tina shook her fist at the camera and shouted, “Get the (bleep) outta here, mutha(bleep-bleep)!”

"Now here's exclusive footage of the pornographic tape. It's been electronically altered to conceal parts of the body." Suddenly there appeared slow-motion images of Tina, Angie, and two naked men entwining together on a hotel bed. A frozen close-up of Tina's ecstatic face was then juxtaposed against her studio publicity shots - it was unmistakably Tina. Angie was buried in the pile of humanity. Fortunately, her face was electronically pixel-ed out due to its close proximity to an apparently erect penis.

Voicing-over the video, Kravitz said, "These are scenes taken from a compilation of Kitty Kat Video releases. This particular tape came from a man, who prefers to remain nameless, who bought it in a video store in 1986. Inside Scoop has, since last week, unearthed several similar tapes." I had seen enough. After gathering the Christmas gifts, I hustled out of the house in order to avoid the telephone and the news media.

At Tim's house, Angie and Jane got drunk while trimming the Christmas tree. Jane said to me: "I freaked when I saw Tina on that shitty show. How's it gonna affect her?"

"She's very embarrassed, of course. Actually, she'll make a few million from it, if I know show business."

"You're taking the news rather well."

"I already knew about the videos. Seems a lifetime ago." I changed the subject. "Is Tim gonna be here? I know he's busy at the club right now."

"Yeah, he's working. I'm going there myself later tonight. You guys haven't been there in months, huh."

"No, we haven’t. And I assume that Cliff won’t be attending any more club functions from now on."

Jane laughed and then said, "I dare say. Hey, did you know that Marcus is back in town?"

I fished for information. "Really. For Christmas? Doesn't he have relatives in Canada or wherever?"

"Marcus' parents are dead, and he was an only child. He called Tim and asked if he could spend the holidays here."

“Do you know where he’s working?"

Jane replied, "He didn't say, exactly, but Sandra told me he's a defense industry lobbyist of some kind. He came to town to see Steve Cromwell, actually. You know that Senator Dodder is chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee?"

I joked, "Funny how that works out. Hey, maybe he'll give the committee some money."

Angie then spoke up. "We're way ahead of you, Den! We also want him to give money to Senator Dodder and his friends. That way, the senator will help us."

A few minutes later, I phoned John Gall and gave him the latest news about Marcus, and that he would be staying with Jane and Tim over the holidays. He asked, "How's the committee going? Keeping busy with it?"

"Not really, since Williamson's people started working on it, but I'm still the Treasurer, so I can keep tabs on things."

"An excellent idea. So, you really think he has a chance?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be here," I said in earnest. Instantly realizing I had revealed more than I intended, I mentally steeled myself.

He said with a laugh, "You sound pretty sure of yourself, Denny. Did you have some sort of premonition about him?" If President Hedges ever found out I had dreamed about Williamson winning the presidency in 1992, I feared the congressman could end-up like Lymon Larroquet: in federal prison on trumped up charges of campaign finance violations.

"No, nothing like that," I lied. "After meeting him, I got involved with his campaign because I was sort of star-struck, to tell you the truth. Even if the novelty's worn off by now, I still think he'd make a decent president. But it's a weird situation. If you ever want me to quit the committee, it's no skin off my nose."

"Because of the possibility of divided loyalties, you mean."

"Of course."

"The Old Man asked, as a personal favor to him, that you keep your position on the committee - like we talked about before. His feeling is that your friend has zero chance to win the nomination, let alone the White House - no harm in it. I'm sure you know where to place your loyalty, Denny."

"Yes, with whoever is authorizing those nice federal government payments to my bank account."

* * *

I proceeded to get drunk on that Christmas Eve. The porn video debacle had begun to worry me - my superiors would not like it if I became publicly linked to the scandal, and I hadn't told Gall about that little gem, figuring that if worse came to worst he would find out soon enough. Mr Webb probably laughed his ass off after seeing the latest Inside Scoop report.

I had forgotten Tina’s mother’s phone number, so, for the first time ever, I tried sending a mental message to Tina: "Amazon, call Tim's house." I flinched when the phone rang five seconds later. "I'll get it - Hello, Joe's Pool Hall - 8-ball speakin'."

"Hercules? You are drunk!"

"Not quite. Anyway, is everything cool up there? I saw that old video on TV."

Tina whispered, "What? They really showed that? I managed to keep mama away from the TV all day. Fuck, it's all over - the modeling gig - everything."

"Not necessarily. Look at Tammi Lorraine - an ex-15-year old porn star - she's doing all right. Marta had the same trouble, remember?"

"But everybody's gonna know!"

"Maybe you can say that it was taped secretly - you didn't know about it."

"Yeah, right! Are you tryin’ to be funny? At a time like this?"

"Okay-okay. Tell 'em you were desperate for money - that's almost true."

"You’re not helpin', fool. I gotta go - mama's comin' - "

"I love you," I said to the dial tone.

Later, Tina gave me the details of her Christmas visit with her mom. Here I present edited highlights of one of their conversations, using mostly Tina’s own words: Tina: "Mama, you’re gonna hear somethin’ bad about me on TV pretty soon. It’s kinda embarrassing to talk about. I made this stupid video tape years ago, just playin’ around ‘n’ shit, and - “"

Mom: "I always knew that that no-account bum - Denny - would get you in trouble, girl."

"It ain't his fault! It’s mine! An’ Denny ain't no bum, neither. Hell, he's almost a millionaire, and he's gonna be the father of yer grandchild! I had worse, mama, much worse."

"Why didn't you marry Robby McMillan - that good Christian boy from church? You always fell in with the worst sort of characters."

"And you didn't? Remember that sick Reverend Henderson? And Daddy? Don’t start diggin’ up the past - neither one of us'll like it!"

"Don't you get smart with me, now," Mrs Kincaid said in a high, shaky voice. "I can still whup yo' ass!"

"Sweet Jesus, I'm 30 years old!"

"And don't use the Lord's name in vain."

"I'm outta here, mama. You can read all about me in the National Rag next week!"

"Tina Marie, you get back in heah! Where do you think you’re goin'?"

"I love you mama, but I'm goin’ home."

* * *

Nineteen-ninety-one ended disastrously when unflattering cover-photos of Tina graced the latest tabloids. Some sleazy fish wrappers, such as The Tattletale, printed racy stills from the videos on its front page - blurred images of Angie's face could be recognized if one looked close enough. People who knew both Tina and Angie might now put one-and-one together. On December 31st, my encrypted cell phone rang, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. The first thing Gall said after we traded code names was, "You didn't think we wouldn't notice what's going on with your, um, friend - did you?"

"No, of course not. I probably should have told you immediately, I know - ."

"I'm forced to write this up in your file, Denny, and it could affect your security clearance. If that happens, your government contract will get voided."

"I don't like the situation either, but I don't see how it threatens my position with the government. You must know my background - I still can't understand why the government put up with me to begin with."

"Obviously you have your uses, but that can only get you so far, Denny. Do me a favor and avoid being seen in public with her for the foreseeable future - not with a hundred papparazzi following her everywhere."

"Not a problem, believe me. The last thing I need is my photo in People magazine." Tina had already flown to L.A., where for the past week she had been hiding at Marta's Malibu beach house. Then, Marta talked Tina into co-hosting her TV talk-show for one week, beginning January 7th. In the meantime, Tina issued a press release stating that the sex videos were merely "party tapes done for kicks," and that "I was unaware that they were being sold." After getting phone calls and visits from reporters, Angie and I were temporarily staying at Tim's guest house. Angie was worried that she had been recognized in the videos, although nobody had, so far, spoken publicly about her participation.

Now, in the evening on New Year's Eve, Angie told me: "Tina's a big joke around the office - ha-ha. People are so hypocritical - they really love it! I hope Mary Jo never finds out that I was involved in it."

"I don't think Cliff would even care, Angie. Well, as long as the media doesn't catch on, that is. Have you met Hilda yet?" Hilda was Cliff's wife.

"No - thank God. I'd be out on my ass if she knew. She's so jealous of any woman in the campaign that Cliff knows personally."

"With good reason, I should think. Politicians are even more sex crazed than I am." Oops, I should have kept my mouth shut!

Angie pounced. "You think Cliff fucked me, don't you!"

"Whoa - let's not start a fight. I don't dwell on what you did in Atlanta."

"I didn't do anything with him!"

"Sorry, Shortie, I know that. Come on, it’s getting late. Wanna go to bed?"

"Oh I don't feel too good, Den. I'm hardly pregnant, but I'm so run-down! I don't even feel like celebrating New Year's. Shit - there's another fundraiser coming up, and then I'm flying out to the Iowa Caucuses with Mary Jo - won't that be fun."

"Take it easy - we'll have our own little party tonight and raise a toast to our new fetus. You know, if I hadn't been such a pot head, we'd have a kid by now.” Then I told a white lie: “I don’t smoke it anymore, so maybe I'll get fertile again." Of course I had never told her about my THC-laced aspirin.

Now someone knocked and then walked in. "Hi, can Angie come out and play?" It was Teri, an ex-showgirl who lost her job at the Flamingo because she had abused coke and thus missed work once too often. She was very good-looking - long limbs, narrow waist, and a nice smile.

Angie jumped up and said, "Hi, Teri. Come here for a minute. What's Jane up to?"

Now they entered a bedroom. In my circle of friends, Teri was notorious as being a serious coke fiend, so I immediately suspected the worst. But they came back into living room seconds later. Angie breezily said to me, "Let's go and visit Jane and Tim for awhile. Maybe it'll cheer us up."

"Okay, but I wanna get back here early. Tim's parties are nuts." While we walked up a footpath from the guest house to the main house, I felt a powerful thought coming from Teri while we made small talk: "I want to suck your cock." I didn't take it seriously though, because months ago Lieutenant Lewis had warned: "You shouldn't pay attention to people's random thoughts, since they - and we - so often think without acting and act without thinking. Remember, human consciousness is chock-full of irrational ideas - don't try to predict human behavior!"

Within a few minutes of arriving at the party, Angie and Teri disappeared into the churning mass of dancers, and then they dashed up the marble staircase. Suspecting that they were doing a coke deal, I decided to do a Remote View. I went into an empty bedroom and lay on the bed, relaxing enough to focus my full concentration on Angie.

I instantly located her inside a second-floor bathroom, where Teri was spreading cocaine on a granite counter top. Teri then weighed-out an eight-ball for Angie, who slowly inhaled a big line. Angie said, "Gawd, I needed that! I feel like shit - Denny's gonna boot me out when I tell him. And Tina'll poison his mind against me. Shit, I haven't slept with her for weeks - I know that Denny has!"

"I'm really shocked," said Teri. "I always thought of you three as a unit - and nothing could come between you."

"I used to believe that too. Life got...complicated."

"Tell me about it - my life's a fucking disaster! I'm a 32-year old, dope-dealing ex-chorus girl with two ex-husbands and an ex-child. Better to deal a little coke than be some cocktail whore - or a stripper."

"Girlfriend, I wish I had your problems. C'mon, let's go back downstairs. Denny didn't look happy."

With a sense of dread about what Angie had thus far avoided telling me, I ducked into the game room before they came out of the bathroom. As I played an antique pinball machine, Angie said in surprise: "Den! Oh, hi. Aren't you lonely in there?"

"Yeah - get in here. Can we talk?" Teri immediately beat it. "I'm not dumb, Angie. Teri gave you some coke, didn't she?"

"We had a few lines - I-I - " Tears squirted from Angie's eyes, as if on cue. "You'll just hate-hate me for what I have to tell you. I lost the bay-baby!"

"Now, you know I won't hate you no matter what. You had a miscarriage, huh." She lowered her bloodshot eyes. "Angie, it ain't a contest between you and Tina to see who can pop out the first kid. I'll still love you if we never have kids." I flicked a tear off her cheekbone. "But I'm sending your ass into re-hab if you don't stop doing dope. I'll get into serious trouble at work if you keep this up." Anger flared up in me then, as well as fear when I considered what could happen to me if I lost my security clearance.

"I promise - "

"I'd whip your fucking ass if I didn't think you'd enjoy it!" Then, as Angie's chest heaved spasmodically, I sensed that she was secretly pleased with my outburst. "I'm not your daddy and I don't have the time or the inclination to tail you around Vegas making sure you're being a good little girl."

Angie removed the envelope of cocaine from her purse. "Here, Den, you flush it. I can't watch. See ya downstairs, okay?"

Walking to the bathroom, I yelled back to her, "We're not done talking about this - and stay away from Teri!"

* * *

By mid-January, things started looking up: Williamson had finished only a mediocre third in the Iowa Caucuses, but with the national news media starting to take notice of him, modest contributions from local Democrats were pouring into the committee's coffers. And with the Nevada Caucuses coming up in a few weeks, Angie was so busy she had no time to get in trouble. To our relief, Tina's Huge Porn Scandal had burnt itself out, probably due to the fact that she had no angelic public image to uphold. Ticket sales for Revenge of the Amazons, then in its fourth week, actually started to increase because of all the attendant publicity. Tina's appearance on Morning With Marta, which all week did programs about Hollywood Sex Scandals, caused a jump in that show’s ratings. The first program dealt with movie stars who had made porno in their youth.

Marta talking on-the-air with Tina: "So many of the actresses I've known in the adult film industry suffered from sexual abuse when they were children. Did you experience anything like that, Tina?"

"Oh hell yeah. When I was 15, my step-father tried to molest me whenever he got drunk. A lotta weird stuff went on that I won't get into 'cause my family would get embarrassed, uh, but when I was 16, I got involved with the pastor in my church. I looked up to him as my only positive male role-model - " Tina's voice faltered. "And he...I was in the choir - other girls did it with him too." TIna's tears trickled down as she quoted the reverend: "He told me, 'Let me infuse you with the sweet love of Jesus and the power of the Holy Ghost'."

"Did it affect your religious faith?"

"No, I just don't need preachers no more." The audience politely applauded, while Tina dried her eyes.

"We could do a whole week on religious sex scandals."

Now the audience applauded loudly.

Years ago Tina told me about her pastor, who, along with certain church deacons and ushers, conducted orgies with girl choristers in the church basement. After the ensuing scandal, the pastor and some of his minions went to prison. The "weird stuff" - to which Tina had alluded, was her sexual experimentation with her two step-brothers and to her older step-brother's shocking liaison with her mother.

Marta interviewed Tammi Lorraine later in the show: "Tammi, how on earth did you end-up making commercial X-rated movies when you were only 15?"

“My childhood was unbelievable, Marta. I was born into a hippy commune - drugs all over the place, of course. My folks never got married, and dad ran off when I was eight - mom was only 24. Mom eventually hooked-up with a man from L.A. who shot TV commercials, so we moved to L.A. and hung-out with guys who were photographers and movie cameramen. I was constantly surrounded by cameras, and I loved showing-off for the lens. There was always booze and dope around the house - I started drinking when I was about 11, I think. In junior high, me and my friends would skip school and hang-out at a house owned by an acquaintance of my mom's boyfriend. He'd get us drunk and high and watch us make-out with the boys that came with us. Then he started filming us - he probably sold the movies for big bucks."

"Didn't your school or parents find out?"

"I had already missed so much school anyway - nothing seemed unusual. I flunked the eighth grade, it was so bad. Then we moved to another school district, and I dropped out when I was 15. By then I had a whole new identity as Tammi Lorraine. My real name is Petunia Breedlove."

"So that's when you turned professional?"

"Yes, but I hardly made any money - a few grand here and there, new clothes, new car. They made about a hundred-million off me."

"Exactly how did the authorities discover your real age?"

"A seventh-grade teacher of mine saw me in a movie in a porno theater and called a reporter, who broke the story a week later."

"How do you feel about those days?"

"I hated it - they stole my childhood."

* * *

In order to restore our privacy, I had recently purchased a house and 10 acres in Henderson, Nevada, near Hoover Dam. On the night before we moved there, Tina and Angie had a giant argument as we packed our belongings. Screeching voices coming from Angie's bedroom attracted my attention. Angie: "I know yer havin' a fuckin’ baby - shut-up about it, bitch! Yer always playin' mind games with me!"

"Oh-phtt! You are playin' mind games with yourself, sister. Don't take your muthafuckin’ problems out on me."

"You think yer so all-that! Big-shot movie star!"

"And you actually think you’re gonna work in government? Maybe he'll put you in charge of the DEA - ha!"

"Hey, fuck you, bitch. Cliff's gonna give me a job workin' in the White House."

"What - workin' on your knees suckin' his dick?" Angie then slapped Tina's face. I had never seen that before, so I was paralyzed. "The first one's free, bitch. Don't ever do that again."

Angie said, "Yer tryin' to drive me away from Denny, but I ain't goin' nowhere. And don't touch me anymore - you make my skin crawl - Denny!" Tina followed Angie into the living room.

Tina: "Don't bother runnin' to Hercules. We're gettin' married, ain't we, Herc?"

Angie: "That's a fuckin' lie! Den, what's goin' on?" A note of panic shaded her voice.

I said, lamely, "Uh, Tina, that's not quite true, now. It was purely hypothetical - "

"You weasel," Tina sneered.

"But you have discussed it," Angie calmly said. "I knew you were plotting behind my back. Don't bother putting my stuff on the truck - I'm staying with Jane. I knew this had to end someday - Bah-ha-hooo!" As Angie cried, I sat down and covered my eyes, and Tina resumed packing.

Within minutes, Angie dumped clothes into a black trash bag, and then she hurried to her car. I called after her: "I'll phone you tonight, Shortie!" The front door slammed with finality. "Why did you have to mention marriage?” I asked Tina. “You knew it would make her crazy."

"I told her weeks ago, but she thought I was bullshittin’."

"You turned me down, as I recall. We might get married some day, but I still love Angie."

"I love her too, but not in the way you mean. Get off the fence, Hercules."

COPYRIGHT 2012 BY K.D. BISHOP 
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