Artwork by Matt Priso - Instagram @ sik_abyss


This is a short sample from my second novel, tentatively titled Valley Ridge Dreamers


Dawn's infancy strangled the bleak taste of nothingness left on the streets the morning that Herm met Rosetta. Sailors spilled into the gutter outside the Loews Theatre. The CAUTION and DANGER signs and the orange barricade tape meant little to the rowdy revellers that had just experienced a Bruce Lee triple: Way of the Dragon (1972), The Game of Death (1972) and Enter the Dragon (1973). Two sailors jumped the opening in the ground. The sun was rising, and a peach coloured haze began to spread across the skyline. For a brief moment, Herm considered pushing a sailor into the sinkhole. The U.S.S Malone and its frigate had docked in the river for a recreation stop over. The sailors shadow boxed, and kicked their way down the main road, and disappeared into townhouses, apartment blocks and alleyways with beautiful women. Windows to apartment blocks were open, Valley Ridge locals let cigarette smoke exit their bedrooms, and in doing so the decibels from the records they played spilled into the air, becoming a collage to Herm. A marvellous audio collage of Jazz and Blues and Rock. His shift was over and his hands were filthy, the deep sweat pores of his fingers were clogged with rat faeces, and he smelled like beer. He washed his hands under a dripping fire hydrant, and watched stray cats and dogs congregate in an alleyway, conspiring or debriefing. Rats scurried down the gutters towards the sewer, ignoring their nocturnal tendencies. The shells of fireworks littered park benches, and the smell of gun powder masked Herm’s whiskey soaked threads. Rumours swept the city that the sinkhole was a conspiracy, and that the U.S.S was here to decimate the place. People were on edge for reasons they had no control over. The sinkhole seemed to be growing before their eyes, and to Herm, no one seemed to care.

He had finished his shift at A Man Is Not a Camel where they played Bitches Brew from front to back on repeat for six hours. It was a groundbreaking record for Herm. He made a promise to himself to buy another copy of it and frame it, but that morning he desired some Monk or Coltrane and the company of a fine woman. The green neon lights of The Everleigh Club flashed before him. He held his duffel bag by his side, and took a deep breath.

“You open?” Herm asked the burly guard on the door.
“Twenty four hours when the ships come in soldier,” the guard replied said with a southern drawl.

“I’m not a soldier, and they there in the gutters are sailors and rats, there’s a difference.

“What you got in the bag chief?”

Herm opened his bag and held it open in front of the security guard.

“Just a change of clothes and a book. Just finished a double at the Camel."

“Hectic in there as it is out here?”

“They can drink. Thankfully half of em were at the Loews triple.”

“What was on?”

“Way of the Dragon, The Game of Death and Enter the Dragon.”

“A bloody Bruce triple.”

“Bloody is a good way to put it.”

The burly guard removed the rope from the door and shadow boxed as Herm entered the Everleigh Club. It was a two story brothel on the corner of Main Road, and West Side Avenue. The ground level was a dark lounge bar, the windows had been painted a dark red, and the room was lit by several lamps, all with green globes. A sound system played Blue Train, and two red headed women danced on a triangle platform positioned next to a small circular bar that only served beer and whiskey.

Surveying the room, Herm felt at home.
“Sit down dear, you have come to just the right place,” said an old woman with plaited gray hair that reached to within a few centimetres of her tail bone, a blue bead had been wound onto the end of the plait and it clipped the belt around her waist when she walked. The old woman was Gertrude Everleigh, and she was the best of the best when it comes to managing a house of ill repute. Gertrude was the younger half-sister of the Loews film curator, Jimmy Dunn-Mavis, one of the many Dunn hybrids that owned or managed establishments throughout Valley Ridge. Gertrude had an eye for spotting talented girls, and they flocked from all corners of the country just to lay claim to having been a working girl at the Everleigh Club. Gertrude didn’t just hire any woman; she hired girls with the talent to make a man feel like he is the last man on Earth. Gerty hired her girls carefully, dressed them well, paid them well, and her performance feedback was thorough, but fair. Most of all, Gerty treated her girls like family. But, there was one thing that Gerty could never achieve, and that was employing a classic girl next door type. Gerty handed Herm a Draught beer, and whistled with her thumb and pointer finger. Within seconds a party of five women appeared from behind a velvet curtain, and bestowed themselves in front of him. Gerty began to present them like a car salesman would present five prestige cars. “Take a seat,” she said. Herm rested his weary legs upon a red velvet ottoman, and eased his back into a black leather couch, one leg crossed over the other at the top of his knee cap in a ninety degree angle. He took a large swig of the beer.

"Move forward a little Milly,” Gerty said firmly.
Milly took one step forward, flicked her black shoulder length hair from her eyes, placed her thumb into her chin dimple and performed a slow pirouette, almost losing her balance before correcting herself. Milly had blue eyes like the ocean, and a large smile with straight white teeth. She eased her right foot out of her high heeled shoes, and dragged her toes up his shin. Milly looked like a woman without a trouble in the world, but she was exhausted, and it showed. She had been run ragged all night by bustling six foot sailors with nothing much better to do than bounce from one joint to the next.
“No thank you,” Herm glanced at Gertrude, took a mouthful of beer, and swirled it around in his mouth for two seconds before swallowing it. Swaying from side to side was a short Russian brunette named Vixen. She wore a pink one piece that was jacked up on one side of her buttocks. Herm looked at her up and down twice, just to make sure that they were not related.
“Next,” he said.
Wylde Child rolled some chewing gum around her pointer finger, and winked four times as she stepped forward. Wylde was the experienced one, her breasts were large, too large for Herm, they were oval shaped and something was just wrong about her. Herm liked women that were less obviously made. He raised his index finger from his can of beer in a motion that indicated next. Gerty wondered what kind of soldier he was. To Gerty, Herm was difficult man to impress. Lilac had her eyes closed as Herm inspected her up and down. She had a round pot belly that rose two inches from her hip line, which she moved in gentle circles. She clapped her hands every few seconds in an awkward way to the Miles Davis record that was still playing. Her timing was off by several beats as she sung “pick me pick me.” Herm was a man who valued rhythm, and Lilac had no sense of it. He suspected she was out of it and dismissed her, waving his arm upward with a distinct flicking motion, like he was pitching an imaginary curveball to a batsman. Gerty shooed her away with her knee length red boots, striking her on the shin.

“Ouch Mum,” she said, skipping across the lounge, and disappearing behind the red velvet curtain.

“And that there on the end Mr Soldier man is my Plush. She is my secret weapon tonight, and she isn’t cheap; but she is worth every last cent. If you shoo her away then I might just have nothing for you boy.”
“I’m not a soldier. Besides, there’s a difference between sailors and soldiers,” Herm replied. But he did like what he saw in Plush.
“I like my girls to be clean ma’am."

Herm scratched the side of his face, and drew his palm over the top of his short brown cropped hair. He was telling the truth in one way, but indicated that he was a deviant. He did value cleanliness in all kinds of people, and while he visited brothels regularly, he only did so because he was lonely. He liked a conversation with a compelling and beautiful lady, one that has interesting stories. For Herm, as sure as eggs are eggs, a prostitute has an interesting story to tell.

"So is this Plush here clean ma’am?” He added.
“Of course my dear,” Gerty said with a gentle nod.
“I only employ clean girls, and I only employ the best girls; but as you can see, it’s been a long night for these girls, and these girls are not showing themselves in the best light. You have already tossed four aside. Those soldier friends of yours have run them ragged; but this here Plush is as cool as you can get, and she is as clean as you can get. The question is soldier, are you clean?”

“Madam, I’m not a soldier, there’s a difference. I’m a research psychologist, and if you know anything about the field of research, then you know that we are meticulous when it comes to making sure that we cover all bases. Research psychologists take no chances when it comes to women. We look at all avenues, and cleanliness is next to godliness.”
He was talking out of his arse and Gerty knew he was lying. ”Of course Mr Research Psychologist, how ridiculous of me to ask such question. I care for my employees like they are family, and this establishment has a cleanliness policy which must be enforced. And as for your profession, and where you have come from, it all remains a secret inside these here walls.”

“Very well,” Herm said.
He looked Plush up and down and finished the beer. She had slender legs, her calf muscles were round and defined, and she was wearing a blonde wig to her neck line that hid her own dark brown hair. She had a pink flower tucked behind her ear, which Herm understood to be a symbol of a  woman’s first night as a working girl. Plush was as fresh as they come. She wore a blue size six laced two-piece that cupped her medium sized breasts. She had matching blue high heels. Herm took a deep breath through his nose. She smelled like the ocean. It was an unfamiliar scent for him.
“I’ll take her,” he said.
“Mr Researcher, they aren’t used cars, they are prestige cars, you can’t just take one. All my customers must treat my girl here like they are angels, and if you do that, then you are welcome back anytime. But, if you treat my Plush here in any way that makes her feel as though she is not being respected, then you will not be welcome back here again. And see that big bulk of a man at the door.” Herm turned his head to the man mountain that searched his bag.

“That’s Lance, and people around here know that Lance can’t dance. But when I give Lance a certain glance, he will knock your lights out boy.”

Herm Falzone grinned at Gertrude Everleigh. He liked the way she operated. He enjoyed the company of women that had little care for the establishment that is love. Prostitutes were the out of bounds types that kept society moving in the wrong direction. All five of Gertrude’s women were beautiful to him, even Lilac with her considerably obvious flaws. Herm had never fallen for a working girl before, but if there was one with the ability to push him over the edge, then Plush it could be. Plush took him by the hand, and led him towards the stairwell. It was her first night at the Everleigh Club, but Plush moved like she had been a working girl her whole life. At the touch of each footstep, her hips swung with precision. As experienced as Wylde Child was, with her ten thousand hours of honing her craft, she did not have the natural talent that Plush had. Plush was born Rosetta Falzone, daughter of Germaine and Lindy Falzone, the renowned local winemakers. Earlier that night, Gertrude gave Rosetta the stage name Hush after seeing it on an overpass billboard that morning.

ALOE VERA - HUSH

FACIAL SOAP

EXOTIC - ALLURING

FRAGRANCE FREE

Hush would make a fine name for a new working girl, she thought driving under the overpass. But, Rosetta Falzone misheard her when she suggested it. “Plush,” she replied with excitement, “I love it!”

Rosetta Falzone was a young down on her luck actor, the only living daughter of the popular award winning winemakers. But, she left home to weave her own career path, and it broke the heart of Lindy Falzone. Her innocent girl next door type looks made it easy to find an agent, and she began to find small parts in commercials on television and some voice overs on radio. But showbiz was a competitive line of work that valued fresh new faces, or the type of face that would go the extra mile. Some of the girls that she had met on casting calls were working girls on the side, it was the best kept secret. Prostitutes, escorts, working girls or whores kept society moving in the wrong direction.

“A good safe place like The Everleigh Club will do wonders for you Rosetta. Gerty treats us girls like we are family. And most of the customers at The Everleigh are actually quite charming. The Everleigh Club takes all the risk out of the profession,” said Candice Bricknell, also known as Wylde Child, who had played a small part as a farmer that specialised in comforting cows while giving birth in the television show A Country Practice.

The Everleigh Club’s reputation preceded it, but that reputation was based on the pillars of A Grade women, classy decor, great music and refreshments and cleanliness. Gertrude Everleigh knew something was missing, and it was the types of women that she was employing: exotic, sensual, voluptuous, extraverted, toxic, colourful, experienced. The range was there at any given time, and the satisfaction levels regularly exceeded expectations. Gertrude made decisions on instinct, and those instincts could not be rushed or forced. When the thing that is missing appears, she will see it, and she will have it.

On the third Tuesday of every month, Gertrude closed the doors for a night to give her employees a well-earned rest. However, she did not close the doors for that reason alone. On the third Tuesday of every month it was date night with Peter, her husband of ten years. Date night consisted of fish and chips at A Man Is Not A Camel, a red wine or two, and then a movie at either Loews or The State Cinema. The difference between the two theatres was that The State screened arthouse and foreign films, and the occasional documentary, whereas Loews screened mostly mainstream drama, action or comedy movies. Gertrude and Peter did not have a preference, they were not movie snobs. The decision on where they went, or what they saw, was based purely on their mood that night. On the third Tuesday of January 1981, Gertrude and Peter stood on the edge of the sinkhole behind Loews and peered into it. It was pitch black, deep and big enough to swallow up a bus. There was a cold and unnerving aura about the hole, and every now and then if you stepped close enough to the edge, and listened attentively, you could hear its stomach rumbling. Some say, that when the Moon is full, you can hear a child down there saying “follow us.” But, on that particular Tuesday, Gertrude and Peter could not hear a thing, and they decided to purchase their popcorn early and get a good seat for the nine o’clock showing of The Howling by Joe Dante. Peter liked a good horror, and the trailer alluded that to be the case. He had also read the novel of the same name, written by Gary Brandner, so he was intrigued how the movie stacked up to the book. For Peter, the chances of the movie comparing favourably to the book (in general) were slim. He preferred the way a novel uses digression, and back story. Movies based on books rarely achieved what they set out to do. Regardless, on that particular Tuesday, The Howling would be the movie that best suited their mood.

The two lovers preferred to sit in a middle row, especially at Loews where the theatres were larger, and when they could, they liked the to sit to the left of the middle aisle. They did this at home as well; their couch was positioned off centre because of an old workplace injury that Peter sustained to his right shoulder. His neck tilts slightly to the right, and it is more comfortable for him while seated if he is watching something off-centre. On that particular Tuesday, they had no problem picking any seat they wished to; the theatre was practically empty. The order of the advertisements and trailers was methodical, and was always the same at Loews Theatre:

- Lights dimmed halfway;

- Three local advertisements for products or services;

- An announcement that highlighted the theatres exit doors in the event of an emergency;

- Two mainland or international commercials for products or services;

- Three trailers for upcoming movies within the next two months;

- One trailer for an upcoming movie, two to four months;

- Lights dimmed completely;

- Theatrical presentation.

Peter had a weak bladder, and two glasses of red wine at A Man Is Not A Camel filled that bladder to the brim. During the second local advertisement (which was a thirty second advert for Wayne’s Second Hand Cars), Peter took an early restroom break. He asked Gertrude if she would like anything from the concessional stand. She said “no,” as she had hardly touched her popcorn. The third local commercial was for Fox Trot Real Estate, who specialised in low to middle market properties. An ideal agent for newlyweds or singles ready to enter the market at affordable prices. Gertrude placed her lemonade into the drink holder and swallowed a mouthful of popcorn in an expressionless, dumfounded manner. The Fox Trot Real Estate Agent was a handsome middle aged actor that played the role of a salesman convincingly. The Agent was showing a young attractive couple through a waterfront unit by the Bay. The script was poor for a number of reasons, none more so than the fact that the waterfront unit did not align with the Fox Trot Agency brand of real estate. However, Gertrude was dumbfounded for another reason. It was the young female actress that said, “honey look at the size of the bed.” The male says, “sweety, the bed doesn’t come with the unit,” and the agent replies to both of them, “well at Fox Trot, we can make anything happen.”

Honey, look at the size of the bed.

Honey, look at the size of the bed.

The words went over and over inside Gertrude’s head as she stared at the young female actor. Peter arrived back from his piss stop with an empty bladder.

“What's wrong, what did I miss? You look like you have seen a ghost,” he said.

“Honey, look at the size of the bed,” she replied.

Confused, Peter shrugged his shoulders and took his seat for The Howling.

Gertrude couldn’t concentrate on The Howling, and when Peter asked her what she thought afterwards, she said it was what she expected. Nothing more and nothing less, but Dante certainly can direct a horror movie. Gertrude did not tell Peter about the Fox Trot advertisement, or the female actor; because she knew that she would have to go to extreme lengths to acquire her services, and Peter did not approve of her extreme lengths methods.

Gertrude knew that she had to make a call to Candice Bricknell; Candice knew everyone in local showbiz.

“I’m sorry sweet thing for calling you on your night off, and for calling so late of course.”

“Gerty, it’s okay, you know I’m not up to much anyway, what is it, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing is wrong, well not yet, but if I don’t get what I want then you know how I get.”

“Don’t I know it, what do you need, and how can I help?”

“You went to the movies last week and saw Scanners didn’t you?"

“Yes, Beau and I quite liked it actually.”

“Was that at Loews?"

“Yes, it is not the type of movie they usually play, but the new year often starts out slow, so they screen pretty much anything for a week or two.”

“We just saw The Howling,” replied Gertrude.

“Oh, we saw the trailer for that. I mentioned to Beau that I hoped it screened for long enough for us to see. We loved Piranha, so we figured a Joe Dante movie is a movie to watch. Was it good?”

“Yes, it did get a little strange though.”

“He certainly has a career ahead of him, doesn’t he?”

“Candy, I don’t want to waste your time talking about movies, but did you see all the advertisements that played before Scanners?”

“Yes, I think so, I’m sure we did.”

“The local adverts as well?”

“Yes, I’m sure. We got there before the lights dimmed because Beau is paranoid about getting a seat. There was no point of course, because horror films at Loews are not that popular, especially B Grade horror like Scanners.

“Perfect, I need to ask you a series of questions about the local advertisements you saw that night.”

Candice was curious and wondered where Gerty was going with the exchange. Was it some sort of test, and if so, then what for?

“Do you perhaps remember seeing a real estate advertisement?”

“Ah, yes, I can. Beau chuckled actually, in fact we both thought it was quite funny. Especially when the Agent replies, “we can make anything happen.”

“Perfect, and do you still have friends in the industry?”

“Ah, yes, of course, we are all quite close still. You never drift apart if you care enough.”

“Perfect, and do you by any chance know the female actor that plays the girlfriend, or the newlywed, it was a bit unclear, but I suppose it is irrelevant.”

“Yes, yes, I do. We went to school together as a matter of fact. Rosetta, Rosetta Falzone. Her mother Lindy manages the vineyard now. She was in Medium Cool actually.”

“What do you mean manages it now? And which character did she play in Medium Cool?”

“Well, something happened to Rosetta’s father, he just vanished one day. And, as for Medium Cool, she was just an extra.”

Candice knew where Gerty was going with this now, and once Gerty sets her eyes on something she must have, that must have doesn’t have much hope of knocking back her advances.

“I need to see you, I need to know everything about Rosetta Falzone. I need an angle, a weakness, I need a foolproof plan to lure her in.”

“Well, if you are talking about girls with weaknesses, then Rosetta Falzone has plenty of them.”

When Rosetta’s cat began to shed weight, and lose its appetite, Rosetta Falzone began to skip auditions, and spend more time on the couch with her ill Burmese. She loved that cat with all the love she had left to give. The money eventually stopped coming in, and her agent dropped her after she put on three kilograms. When Rosetta received an eviction notice for a failure to pay her rent, she only had one place to turn, and that turn was prostitution. She asked Candice for Gerty’s phone number, and then made the call that would change her life forever.

“Candice told me you may be calling my dear, said you were having a rough trot. How old are you Rosetta?”

“Ummm eighteen, and a half.”

“And you were the girl in the Fox Trot Real Estate advertisement, correct?”

“That is me, yes. I played the girlfriend that says something silly about the bed.”
“I know Rosetta, it is a funny little piece of acting. When can you start my dear?”
“Start, wow, that was easy and quick. Ah, immediately, my pussy is sick and I need quick cash.”

“Oh, well that won’t do then. I’m afraid that I only hire clean girls.” Gertrude knew she didn’t have an ill vagina. She knew exactly why Rosetta was calling, because she was responsible for the plight of her Burmese.
“No, No.. Miss Everleigh. My cat, Chubby Checker, he is the one that is ill."
“Oh baby girl, my apologies. Call me Gerty, please dear. I hear things and automatically go one way with it. This profession has taken the innocence out of language.”
“Never mind, I guess I should watch what I say a bit more. But, I need to get my Chubby back on track, he is frail, too frail for a Burmese. It’s chronic kidney disease I’m afraid.”
“Oh Rosetta, isn’t it the worst when your loved ones fall ill. What stage is Chubby?”
“Stage four, I’m all torn up about him.”

The International Renal Interest Society produced a system that classifies and places the disease into stages. Those stages advance as the the severity of chronic kidney disease (CKD) increases. Early diagnosis of CKD is critical as early intervention (before symptoms present) can halt the progression of  the disease, and improve the likelihood of a long and happy life.

Gertrude Everleigh knew that Rosetta would call that week, because she poisoned Chubby Checker with AirFreeze, a scentless radiator coolant that when digested over time by pets can destroy their kidneys. Gertrude (of course) did not do the poisoning herself, she used Candice’s intelligence to plot the scheme, and she bribed Lance to tip the coolant into the cat’s water bowl.

“I’ll owe you one Lance.”

STAGE 1

Chronic kidney disease is a disease that is progressive and iterative, with signs and symptoms becoming more apparent as it advances. No direct symptoms are present in stage one, and a normal concentration of nonprotein within the blood (urea and creatinine). However, damage to the kidneys, or some form of disease still exists. If the causes of the disease is known at the point, for example Neoplasia, then treatment can still reverse any progression of the disease. Other underlying issues or disorders that are likely to cause disease prior to this stage are Polycystic Kidney Disease, Renal Amyloidosis or Hypercalcaemic Nephropathy. Symptoms may not be present as the loss of nephrons (microscopic unit of the kidney) does not detract actual functionality. In fact, the remaining nephrons can actually become larger to compensate the loss, which can be labelled Super-nephrons. While the Super-nephrons do an adequate job during this stage, they will eventually become tired, and wear down. Functionality can seem quite okay until seventy per cent of Nephrons are gone.

STAGE 2

Still problematic to identify symptoms, especially if the patient does not occupy the home for large periods. Laziness can creep in, energy levels can drop as fatigue grows. Quality of the coat, and eating can become quite poor; however these signs are often blamed on ‘old age’. The patient will produce larger amounts of urine, and thirst will be excruciating. Creatinine doubles in the blood, and at this stage renal failure is occurring. Much like the first stage, reversal of the disease is possible if the initial cause of failure is highlighted, and treated with an anti inflammatory. It is crucial that managing high blood pressure during this stage is methodical. If not adequately managed, then it may call serious eye damage, such as rupturing, detachment and twisting of the vessels inside the eye.

STAGE 3

Creatinine in the blood is considered severe. Signs become obvious as the disease progresses, such as: weight loss; dehydration; protein in the urine. The disease will progress rapidly, and the thyroid will expand, as will joint disease. The patient will lose the ability to groom itself. Long hair during this stage can become matted or dreadlocked. Treatment during this stage is merely to halt the progression, reduce pain and discomfort, and extend the life somewhat. The increase in creatinine will need to be treated itself, rather that it being a contributing factor to other progressive symptoms. Reducing protein in the diet is important. Drugs and special fluids will be required to prevent constant vomiting.

STAGE 4

Considered end stage renal failure. Creatinine is abundant in droves. Prevention and treatment is close to impossible. Drugs and other treatments are aimed at managing the protein in the urine, and other associated side effects, as well as making life pain free and enjoyable as possible. In the lead up to death, ailments such as muscle loss, constipation, anaemia, urinary tract infections will run rampant, and ultimately a loss of heart and the brain function will cease life. Chronic kidney disease  is common, and only behind trauma, it is the most common form of death in middle to old aged cats.

“Well Rosetta, we have a ship in and its frigate, and with it being a national celebration and all, I need an extra girl or two.”
“Fabulous.”
“You have a nickname? Something I can introduce you by?”

“No, my friends call me Rosetta, or just Fumbly Falzy.”
“Well, that’ll be no good. It’s best for no-one to know your real name. We would hate for someone to get too attached and track you down. Valley Ridge is a small place you know. Fumbly Falzy is a nickname that could easily be traced all the way back to your family.”
“What about Honey Muffin?” Suggested Rosetta.
“No, baby. That won’t do. But I spotted a billboard today that gave me an idea for a marvellous nickname.” The phone crackled. “How does Hush sound?”
“Plush! WOW! It sounds HOT! I like it. In fact I love it.”
“No baby, Hush! You know, like the soap.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Aloe Vera. That’s a shame, my phone line is playing up.”
“My dear, I can hear it in your voice, Plush it will be.”
“Sweety, you come down after twelve, and I’ll take a close look at you, and if I’m satisfied, then I’ll have an outfit ready for you. You’ll go straight into my lineup.”
“Like a new trade in a basketball team?”
“Like a new trade in a basketball team. You’ll be in my starting lineup.”
“Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou. Chubby Checker will be right before he knows it!”
“I’ll need your size before you hang up.”
“I’m about a six or thereabouts.”
“Thereabouts? A girl should know her size.”
“I mean, I’ve been spending a lot of time on the couch with Chubby, and I may have jumped a size or two, but Candice says that I am a girl next door type and that I would fit right in.”
“I have heard about your looks my dear, and I of course love your performance in that commercial. Now, you have a good wash, and have all your faculties about you. That means no Vodka. We have a girl here named Lilac, and she is on her last legs I’m afraid. You keep away from her, she can be trouble if she is on a lean patch, and a lean patch she is currently on."

Rosetta’s hand was cold, and it shook with nerves as she led Herm up the stairwell. Nine stairs covered in red shaggy carpet. On the walls were paintings and sketches of fields and mountains, and there was a photograph of the sun setting over the Valley Ridge Bay. “Is this just the coolest brothel you have ever been in?” Plush said with a voice that fluttered.

“It is a classy one.”

“Well, I am glad you didn’t pass it up as you walked on by Mr Sexy Soldier Boy.

Rosetta had more energy and spark than any prostitute he had paid before. He had never had sex with any of them. Herm Falzone simply liked to talk with them and find out what made them tick. Most prostitutes interested him, but lacked Rosetta’s vigour, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was about her that made her a girl next door type. If someone would have asked him heading up those stairs who Plush reminded him of, he would have said Greta Garbo around the time she starred in The Saga of Gosta Berling or Rita Moreno in The Toast of New Orleans. The way that Plush spoke to him made him feel as though he was the last man on Earth. And if a prostitute can make a man feel that way on her first night, then she was born for it, a god damn natural hooker.
Plush opened the door to a comfortable looking room. It had an ensuite, a queen sized bed, two lounge chairs and bedside tables. The bed was dressed in black cotton linen, and round purple pillows. It was not a bed to be slept in. On the bedside table closest to the window was a stainless steel pitcher filled with water, and a larger steel bowl with two bottles of Draught laying on a bed of ice. On the window sill was a clam shell the size of a hand with several assorted sized, flavoured and coloured condoms And next to the shell of condoms was an ashtray with three cigarette butts in it. The window was slightly open, letting in a gentle breeze, but the smell of stale cigarette smoke lingered.

“Say, how long have you been on the water?” Plush said. She sat at the base of the bed and stared at Herm. He was the first customer that night who had looked at her in the eyes. She thought he was a good looking man. She slipped off her high heels, and flicked them to the side as she parted her legs slightly. He stared at her back, and did not reply. He was nervous as well, but in a good way. Plush’s hands shook, so she sat on them.

“What’s wrong soldier, cat got your tongue?”
“No, no, I’m not a soldier, I’m here on field work actually. Besides, a sailor is not really a soldier, there is a difference.”
“What is field work?”
“I’m gathering information to use for a larger body of work.”
“That sounds intriguing” Plush replied. She stood and started to gyrate in front of Herm, which then moved into a gentle dance. “Valley Ridge is in dire straits isn’t it? He said.

“It has its problems at the moment,” Plush replied.

“I could be researching any one of its many problems, and still get nowhere.”
“Which one are you researching?”
“I’m not ruling out that they are all related,” Herm said, unbuttoning the button below his collar, and pulling it over his head. He threw his shirt on the floor and folded his trousers and placed them on the dresser. He did this regularly to make the women feel like they were turning him on, but really, all he wanted to do was hear their stories, hear something real and true. After all, Herm was one big lie after another. He picked up one of the bottles of Draught, opened it and swigged half of it down in one gulp. Herm looked at Plush, smiled and wondered for a moment who else she had been with that night.
“What do you think about when all these sailors come to town, doesn’t it get tiresome?”
“I don’t know much about all that business, tonight is really a one time thing for me to get my pussy better.”

“Your what?”

He took her hand, placed his beer on the floor with his other and cupped her hand with both of his. “I have a sick pussy, and Gerty said this rigate and its launchers would get me more than half way to fixing it.”
“You mean the frigate out there?”
“The what?”

“The U.S.S Malone is the actual destroyer, and the frigate, the other boat, it protects it. But a frigate can also handle its own if called upon to destroy.”
Plush was polite, and with genuine curiosity asked him what a frigate was, and clarified what she had meant by her sick pussy.”

“In a nutshell, I suppose you would say a frigate protects larger ships.”
“Like ships with launchers and things. How interesting, so sort of like a defensive linebacker or something?”
“More or less, a frigate’s purpose is simple: it's the simple art of deception. The larger ships are the targets, and their frigates tend to get ignored. BUT! frigates generally have marvellous weaponry, and they are built super strong.”
“Like tricksters then?”
“Yeah, Plush, I suppose that you could say that.”
“Well you look strong,” Plush said, twirling her finger around her fringe. “I like a man with strength.”
Herm sat on the bed next to her, and kissed her on the cheek. He had never done something like that before, but he felt drawn to her.
"I’m sorry, I can’t,” she said. “We are told not to do that in return. I can’t kiss you back I mean.” “Oh.” He felt foolish.
Plush stood at the base of the bed with her first day school girl nerves and a seductive smirk. She raised her foot from the floor and placed it on his knee cap, and caressed his quad muscle with her heel. Her eyes were deep wells of gold yet to be mined. To Herm, she was comforting yet unfamiliar.
“Gerty tells us to keep something back, something of ourselves. But, I can dance for you, I’m quite the mover and the shaker.”
He looked at her again, and placed his hand on her leg and rubbed it with his palm.

“I can see that,” Herm replied.
“You are not backwards at coming forwards are you soldier?”
“I’m not a soldier, and I’m the one with something to lose here.”

“What do you have to lose here tonight?”

“Well, Plush, I think I may have already lost it.”
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t usually kiss and tell, but there is something about you that makes me feel like home. How about we just chat for a moment?”
“I’d like that, but it’s up to you. You are the valued customer here. We can do what you like, with the kissing exception of course.”
“That, I am a valued customer, and it will be some chatter that I want to pay for first.”
“If I feel like home, then where is home, and I would like to know your name. I can’t call you Mr Research Psychologist all night, or morning, or whatever the time is.”
“You really are new at this aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I guess you just look trustworthy.”
“My name is Herm Falzone.”
“What a lovely name, my cousin just named his baby boy Malcolm. So he is going to get Mal at some stage. What is Herm short for?”
“Hermanian.”
“What a long and an important sounding name. How long are you here for Hermanian Falzone?”
“I don’t plan on hanging around, this place is a little dark. I just need to get to the bottom of it all, the sinkhole is just a ruse, smoke and mirrors. Us researchers think that the rodents are playing a larger role in it all.” He was unsure why he kept lying to her, but the story gathered momentum, and he felt more important the larger it became.

“Oh, I read that the sinkhole was the Earth swallowing itself, and that the rats were just bystanders in it all.”

“That is what they would like you to believe. I read that piece as well. That is why I am here though - to save you all.”

“So, when do you leave?”

“I have to report back to my contractor in a few days. I have a few theories, but I don’t like to speculate until I have something solid to base it all on.”
Plush laid back on the bed with her head on the headrest, and removed the rest of her clothing, arching her pelvis to the ceiling as she slipped her underwear down below her knees.
“You’re the finest girl I have seen all year, maybe longer than a year.”
“That’s such a lovely compliment for a girl like me, and I’m a little nervous.”
Plush moved her hands up and down her bare thighs and then caressed her stomach. She thought about Chubby Checker and what he would think if he knew she was going to all lengths to extend his life for a few more months. She had been paid six times by customers that night for a bit of conversation and a few blow jobs. Gertrude told her to expect that. “Men sometimes just like to hear the voice of a woman, sometimes they don’t like to hear it at all.” Herm and Plush spoke about everything under the sun. When he showed genuine compassion and empathy for the plight of Chubby Checker, Plush began to fall for him.
“He needs a kidney transplant, she sobbed subtly into her syllables.”
“They do that for cats?”
“Do what?”
“Transplants.”
“Yes, he isn’t well at all. There are four stages of renal failure in cats, much like cancer. There is a   rating system. One, two, three, four.”

“What stage is Chubby?”
Plush began to sob, plunging her face into her hands. Herm took her by the hand again, and dragged his thumb across the top of her hand.
“That tickles,” she said, “You are quite a man Herm.”
“I’m not the man you think I am,” he replied. For a moment he considered coming clean. But he continued to lie.

“I was bullied at school. They called me Herm the Germ.”

Plush and Herm got along like a house on fire - like a brothel on fire. He asked her about growing up in Valley Ridge. Plush spoke about her childhood at the vineyard, and he said that he did not have a great one after his parents died. He explained his love of music, and then felt foolish when he divulged that he wanted to own his own eradication business one day. Here he was, drunk (but feeling sober) in a city plagued by rats with a hole in it, sipping beer in a brothel, talking about cats and letting his business plans slip slip to a prostitute named Plush after little more than thirty minutes. Plush was impressed. She had never met a man so deeply imbedded in how life worked, and how he wanted it to work. To Plush, the men that lived  in  her city were scum-buckets, and Herm was not one of those men.

“I love the arts, movies and music, and painting, all of it,” she said. “They make me forget about all of the world’s horrors. And guess what?” She added. Herm looked at her as though she was the last woman on Earth.

“Then I guess what” he replied.

“You make me laugh you silly billy. No, no, I have been in a few commercials.”

“You have been in adverts, anything that I may have seen?”
“Well, Mr Herm, the Researcher” Plush replied. “I suppose that depends on how carefully you watch your commercials. I play one of the newlyweds in the latest Fox Trot Real Estate commercial. When the agent shows the couple through the waterfront unit, I say ‘Honey, look at the size of the bed.’”

Herm had not seen the commercial, but he lied and said that he had.
“You are a bit of a natural, I must say. You have a sporting spirit for someone so young, and I think you’ll go far in the movies if you stick at it.”
“Oh don’t say that, you are embarrassing me. And I’m old enough. Too old, probably.”
“You shouldn’t be coy about it all.”
“I don’t know, everything I do, it seems that it is all just for marginal gains. I’m tired of playing the long game.”
“The long game is worth it. Just keep plugging away at it, pound that rock, it’ll turn around, it’ll crack open. You have all the time in the world."
“That’s just it, I’m not sure any of us have all the time in the world. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this, I guess I just feel like home with you.”
“At least you are no bystander like the rats are. Tonight’s plunge into prostitution proves that you are willing to move heaven and earth to save your cat, and I like that in a girl.”
“You like that in a girl, or you like me?”
“I like you.”
“Lets play a game. Tell me something real Mr Researcher, and I’ll do the same.” Plush dragged her fingernails through his short brown cropped hair, and placed her pointer finger into his chin dimple.
“I thought you would never ask.” He leant into her slowly, and the two kissed for what seemed to them both as an eternity.

“I had blood on my hands tonight,” he added.

“You what. What blood, you got in a scuffle?”

Herm was lying.
“A scuffle, no, let me get there. There was some sort of a rally down by the docks after the boats came in.”
“A rally for what?”
“I don’t know, they were holding up signs that contradicted the next. Freedom I suppose. It’s not uncommon around this time of year.”

“Oh, what a waste of time. I hate rallies,” Plush said.
“So, I was walking by and two young women began arguing what the best Prince record is, and one thing led to another and blood was spilt. I was pushed into the one that was arguing for Nineteen Ninety Nine, and I got covered in her blood, pouring from her nose it was.”
“Oh how horrible, was she okay.”

“I’m not entirely sure. I turned back towards her, and the two had disappeared into the chanting mob.”

“That’s not as real as I thought you’d get. But, I suppose a deals a deal, and now it is my turn, but one thing’s first, what is your favourite Prince record?”
“That is a very good question, and I love talking about my favourite records, and my favourite Prince record has to be Purple Rain. It took me a while to get it, and for a while I preferred Dirty Mind, but Purple just takes me somewhere, it’s hard to explain.”
Plush stared at Herm for what seemed to her like an eternity, yet it was only seconds before she replied.

“Can I just for a moment sing you a line or two. But, you must promise not to laugh. What do they say? I’m a whore in sheep’s clothing.”
“I don’t know what they say, but as for your singing, what if it’s funny and I can’t help myself?” “Just promise Mr Research Man, just promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Here it goes then.”
Plush closed her eyes, and arched her back before dragging the fringe of her wig behind her ear with the middle finger of both hands. She sung the second verse of the title track to Purple Rain, and felt immediately silly for doing so.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m wasting all your well paid time singing like a blushing little Prince fan. You came here for a reason I suppose, so just take me whenever you want.”

“No no, Plush, please, you sing fine, but singing someone else’s song is not authentic. You still need to tell me something real.”

She composed herself. She was ashamed at how deep things had become.
“Okay, okay, so my mother is a winemaker, lives here and all. But she had a child to another man when she was very young. So I have a half sister and she had a small part in Medium Cool.

“You are kidding me."

It’s the truth, it’s all real. As real as these,” she said taking both of her breasts in her hands, cupping them and pushing them upwards.

“So you are related to someone in Medium Cool?”
“Yes, my sister, my half sister. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it.”
Plush skipped along the shaggy carpet, and closed the door to the ensuite behind her. She removed her blonde wig, and threw it onto the tortoiseshell laminate floor. She adjusted her dark brown hair behind her ears again, and took a deep breath and mumbled to herself.

“I can’t believe this, of all the places,” Plush said to herself. She looked at herself in the mirror, and shook her head in amazement at what was happening. Is this what love at first sight feels like?
She opened the door, and stepped onto the carpet. Herm looked at her up and down. With her wig removed, she looked even more beautiful to him.
“Okay, so I’ll start with the opening credits, you know the part don’t you? Just run with it okay. We are at the part just after the car takes the exit route.” She acted the first few lines switching from character to character.

“Here it goes.”
She switched characters again to the part her sister played.

“My sister was the French girl in white, standing next to Robert Forster. She spoke about the dangers of the profession. She did a good job with the accent.”

“You are French?”

“It runs in my blood, but no. I was born here. My sister too, but she left when I was young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But, I’m surprised she didn’t feature in more films. Medium Cool is one of my favourites. You know what I find so interesting about that beginning?”

“Please tell me.”

“The woman that crashed her car. She changed her mind. She didn’t want to take the exit ramp, and then look what happened.”

Herm entered The Everleigh Club early that morning to have a conversation with a prostitute, and to relax after a long shift. He didn’t expect to fall in love with a prostitute. In all his life, he had never seen someone so beautiful, and he had never spoken to someone as though he was speaking English for the very first time. He was often left speechless in front of Plush, he was floored, FLAWED, and he was not afraid to show it. He was raw and poignant. There was something about Plush that made him want to marry the one time whore. From the street Herm looked up to the second floor at Plush who stood at the window and smiled down at him. The air smelled like fire crackers. Stray cats still roamed alley ways as music beamed through open apartment windows. She blew him a kiss and waved at him. Herm pretended to catch the kiss in one hand, and stuffed it into his mouth, and he waved back at her.