The
room smells of fish. By the door to the kitchen is a sign that
reads
SATURDAY NIGHT
FISH FRY
$1.50
BRING YOUR OWN BOOZ.
Down the hall way is an open door at which stands a tall high yellow in a Basque and 5 inch heels. Her hair is licked back with a side parting. From her ears hand large brass rings, and she has a tattoo on her arm of a redwing. She is smoking a cheroot and taping her foot to the music. Back in the room, a large black man in a brown Derby and and spotless white shirt, sits at the piano, his wide tie swinging from side to side. On the piano is a jug of gin, just within arms reach. The room is highlighted every minute with a lightning flash. The storm is directly overhead and the boom of the thunder drowns out the music. The window is open and the drapes flap wildly in the wind. The rain falls in continuous rods, flooding the sidewalk. Across from the room is a neon sign that splutters in the wet but gamely reads in alternate red and green “DRUGSTORE”. By the door leaning against the jambs are two bulls from the 5th precinct. Identically dressed in raincoats and trilbies. They both pack a police special. On the couch sits a blonde with a habit. Her beauty is fading but she still can turn a head. Her red silk dress has ridden up to show a milky thigh above her nylons. One shoe on, one shoe half off, she swings her right leg, crossed at the knee over her left, in time to the music. She had been a dancer once before her new profession, taken up to support her habit. In the back room a high roller game of five stud is in action. No winners or losers yet.
The piano player looks exactly like Fats Waller except for a small slit in his neck into which is placed a chip that makes him an exact copy in mind and mannerism. The cops are called Doil and Getz. They both turn at the noise of footsteps on the stairs. A tall Negro, elegantly dressed, enters and nods at the bulls. They are not interested in him, although he controls all the girls this side of the Broadway, they are just observers, and if needs be, troubleshooters.
The Negro, doesn't need to use muscle, he controls by force of will. The blond sits up and adjusts her dress. He bends over her and puts his hand under her chin and lifts it up so her eyes meet his. Satisfied that she is not too stoned to work he lets her go and sits on the arm of the couch.
'Hey Fats, stop fooling around and give us a tune we can dance to.'
Fats goes into Black Bottom Stomp, flashes a cheeky grin and steps up the tempo. The high yellow leaves her station down the hall and enters the room.
'Business is slow Saul. I need a drink and some eats.' She takes a plate of catfish and lifts the gin jug to her lips, gulping down a good four fingers. As if on cue a bunch of Matelots from the French fleet on courtesy visit, tumble up the stairs. She grabs one, with bench pressed muscles, and takes him down the corridor. His ship mates grin and nudge each other not one over twenty. 'Easy pickings,' say Saul to the blonde. 'Get to work I'll call for reinforcements.'
I've watched all this and have one thought. 'Where is Veronica?'. Through all the many variations of Fish Fry's, Veronica has been a constant. Me and my big mouth. The bench press Matelot enters the room screaming in French. Now my New Orleans Creole knowledge is rusty but the gist of it is that the high yellow is in fact a tranny with a big Dick. The Matelot grabs a chiv from one of his mates and heads of back down the hall. Doil and Getz don't speak Creole, but smell danger when it comes at them, and draw their specials. Just at that moment Veronca climbs the stairs dressed in a black tailored costume and white fur stoll. The high yellow gives the Matelot a sharp jab on the nose and the knife jumps through the air and lands point first in Veronicas chest. Hard to believe I know but seeing is believing. She looks down in disappointment, she has hardly had time to step inside before she is maimed again. Doil and Getz cuff the Matelot, then paramedics arrive and take away the still body of Veronica. I just keep playing, maybe the magic note is in this next riff.
************
It's been a hard day at the office, prossing up as Fats has become something like a 9 to 5 and I'm in need of some relaxation. I can't go home to 1000, Red Sea Boulevard, my address on Mars, as Doil wants me to stay around Manhattan for a while. He says the Finks are on the way to cracking the problem and I need to be on hand. So what to do? I settle for the Stork Club on 10th. The Man will be pleased to see me and so will Lady Day, who is resident at the moment. I hail a cab and feel a hand on my back.
'Room for another?' It is Jenny Wizz prossed up as a swinger, she could fool most but I have a good ear and recognise the voice. She snuggles up to me on the seat her bead dress falling in folds over her thin frame.
'I know it's you Jenny, they should have changed your voice as well. Who you supposed to be, some chick from the sticks or a bit of class?'
'I'm a dancer in The Broadway Melody 1935, Jack Benny and Sid Silvers are fighting over my favours. We're we going?'
'I'm heading for the Stork Club, didn't invite you.'
'Don't need no invite, me and The Man are acquainted.'
'If you get too close, he'll turn his plastic surgeon onto you, cut you into his latest crush and then dump you.'
'I could do with a boob job, this outfit is a bit too skinny for me, I like a bit more flesh on my bones, but what the hell it's only a body from the pross. Factory.'
I pay the cab off and the bell boy stops me.
'Entertainers round the back.'
'Yes Sir, Boss, sorry Boss, I mistook this for New York.' I touch my hat.
'No offence Fats, but I have my orders.'
Who am I to get this working man into trouble. I give him one of Fats's best eyebrow wriggles and head for the stage door. You get a better class of person through it.
Billie Holiday is on stage accompanied by Teddy Wilson. Jenny and me stand in the wings and take it in. Teddy has the light touch that all accompanist’s should have. Not too many notes just the right ones in the right place. They finish the set with, “Good Morning Heartache” It is achingly beautiful. The applause is sparse. Schmucks!
Me and Lady day go way back, as Fats that is. We went to different schools together.
Teddy and Billie are using the Stork Club to wind down after making an album featuring some of the true Jazz greats of the time, with Roy Eldridge, trumpet Benny Goodman, clarinet Ben Webster, tenor John Trueheart, guitar John Kirby, bass Cozy Cole, drums. It will sell a million with that line up. I'm jealous as fuck. Joe Coolz can only dream of getting a band like that together.
'Hey Fats, though you were appearing at the Reno?' Shit I have to think fast. Is the real Fats really on at the Reno Club? Surely the IGBI would have this covered. I introduce Jenny.
'She's new in town, hoofing it for the Broadway Melody.'
'With that clown Silvers?'
'A very funny man.' says Jenny. 'You know he had about 10 brothers.'
'Now that would keep you on your toes.'
Teddy links arms with Jenny and leads her to the bar. He's a smooth operator on or off the keyboard. Billie looked on edge. Maybe her habit was getting the better of her, on good days her skin glowed as if lit from underneath, tonight she had the frazzled look of withdrawal. I'm a booze man myself so I couldn't help. Billie liked a drink too, but was in need of more than a belt of whiskey. She leans into my ear and whispers with that low smokey voice of hers.
'I'm sick Fats, I can't face the second set.' I can feel her trembling through her thin dress. The air con is on but it's not that cold. I've seen people with the shakes before, mewling and pissing the place, so I tell her to go get straight. I rather she didn't shoot up but I couldn't see her in a mess.
I search for the stage hand and ask if there is another piano in the back. He points to one in the wings, so I have it wheeled on to the platform, nose to nose with the one Teddy was playing. I tell Teddy the plan. Me and him in a battle of notes with Jenny doing the splits.
He laughs. 'Outrageous Man.'
The Man arrives with a Rita Heyworth lookalike. All legs and flaming hair, and rocks on her fingers too big to be real. He sits at his table and crooks a finger. I point at my chest and mouth 'Me'.
'Don't be a schmuck Fats,... come and talk to the man with the Gelt.'
I walk over slow and pull up a chair.
'Did I tell you to sit down. Whatcha doing here anyways. Thought you were at the Reno Club?' (The IGBI must have this conundrum covered.)
'The fire department closed it down for the night, leaves me free to give this show some extra pizzaz. No fee needed.'
One of his gorillas grips my lapels. 'Shall I get rid, Boss'
The Man leaves me hanging for a enough time for me to get the willies. I land hard with my weight.
'Let's see what he has to offer. It's for nix ain it.' The gorilla lets me down slow, brushes my suit off, then taps me twice on the cheek. 'Play nice.'
***************
Well we did “Play nice”. I had to dig deep into my reserves of technique to keep up with Teddy. Jenny played her part by doing the splits in front of The Man and receiving a look from the red head. By then Billy had returned hopped up and ready. I said my goodbyes and left with Jenny. She says we should go back to Mars and see the Finks. But Doil says I should stick around. I can be in two places at once as Fats but as me, Joe Coolz, impossible.
'I think I have be here on Earth, this is where the Fish Frys are.'
'No matter what Doil says the IGBI are not in charge of this operation. The IGIA are running the show and I work for them, so what I say goes. Don't worry about Doil I'll deal with him.'
'And Veronica, I should go see her.'
'The Medics will patch her up good as new.'
'I suppose a fucks out of the question.'
**************
Jenny has a job to do back here on Earth, and that is a hoofer in a Broadway Show. I drop her off at the stage door, and press the return button on my wrist, an instant of ecstasy, then I'm back in the wormhole destableizer. A complete stranger is at the controls, no need to get pally, I go through the debrief scan, head for the pross department and I'm my old self, Joe Coolz, musician. I take a stroll home, it is time for the rain hour, and I want to feel it on my face. At the door to my apartment block, 1000 Red Sea Boulevard, I notice a name change. The block is now called “SCRAPME VILLAS.” As I show my retina to the vid, a voice says. 'Welcome home Joe.' and I am instantly standing in my reception room.
'What's going on Brian?
'Our company Scrap ships Rus, has a cash pool, so I bought the block. On your behalf of course.'
'Why do I need a whole apartment block. There is only me.'
'The block has a change of use.'
'Don't tell me there are scrap space ships in the cellar.'
'Not exactly, just the records of them. The IGRS are nosing around, so I had Zeno bring all the business in house, literally.'
'What happened to nebular computing. Even I know we don't need the records on the premisses. They could be kept on Computer World and we could have instant access.'
'But not instant wiping.' says Brian
I suddenly feel light headed. I ask Brian to fix me a drink and I head for the shower and a good dosing in Ivigo gel. At least the shower is still where I left it. I forgo the invigorating rub down and towel myself dry. As I bend to dry my toes, I feel a hand on my testicles. The touch is gentle but I have immediate ball shrink.
'Hi boss say's Zeno, you've lost weight down there.'
She helps me on with my kimono links her arm in mine a steers me towards the ten seater settee.
'Is this open house or something, can't a man have a bit of solitude without being touched up?'
'Some men would give me a years salary for that kind of introduction.'
She is in her mechanics outfit. Bib and brace, no top, and sky boots. Her hair is cut in a number two, with a red streak from forehead to nape, where she has a tuft, coloured green. No matter how she is dressed or made up Zeno always oozes sex appeal.
'You like it don't you?' She says turning.
'I like you, that is what counts. Are you here as a director of Scrapships, or my girlfriend?'
'Depends if you want a three way conversation, involving me you and Brian, or sex.'
'A conversation with Brian. Fuck no!'
****************
There is no override switch for Brian. He is programmed to turn his sentient self off when I ask him to. Then all but essential services are dormant. But Brian is not any old computer, he has proved himself extraordinary, not that I would tell him of course. However one can not be sure that he is not eavesdropping all the time. Zeno and me are lying side by side in after sex euphoria, when I decide to test him out. (See how I inevitably call him a he and not an it.)
'Zeno, this Brian and a body thing, I think I may have solved it.' Zeno sits up and leans on one elbow. She is incredulous.
'You are letting him have a body. He is insufferable now.'
'This is the plan. I will clone myself and let him have the clone. It would be good to have a double in my circumstances.'
Zeno looks at me as if I have lost it. I wink and put a finger to my lips. A slow smile turns into a grin.
'I think that is a very good plan, Brian will be beside himself.'
We let the thought hang in the air. Then he/it speaks.
'Sir I will be forever in your debt. I won't let you down.'
'I will have to make some minor changes, though, Brian'
'Oh I don't mind, Sir. Just to have a body and walk among you is enough.'
'I can't have you going around shagging all the women clones, so you won't have a penis.'
'I can cope with that, Sir.'
'No balls either, and you will be mute of course.'
Zeno starts giggling.
'Maybe deaf as well, I add.'
Zeno now starts hysterically laughing.
'Oh that's it, it's a big joke. After all I've done for you. Made a zillionaire.'
'Brian what is it you should do when I ask you to turn off.'
'I have to shut down all methods of intrusion into your affairs and........, oh I see, it was a test, to see if I had obeyed you.'
'Which you didn't or else you would not have overheard the suggestion.'
'I will turn off right away, Sir.'
'Too late Brian, now make us some tea.'
SATURDAY NIGHT
FISH FRY
$1.50
BRING YOUR OWN BOOZ.
Down the hall way is an open door at which stands a tall high yellow in a Basque and 5 inch heels. Her hair is licked back with a side parting. From her ears hand large brass rings, and she has a tattoo on her arm of a redwing. She is smoking a cheroot and taping her foot to the music. Back in the room, a large black man in a brown Derby and and spotless white shirt, sits at the piano, his wide tie swinging from side to side. On the piano is a jug of gin, just within arms reach. The room is highlighted every minute with a lightning flash. The storm is directly overhead and the boom of the thunder drowns out the music. The window is open and the drapes flap wildly in the wind. The rain falls in continuous rods, flooding the sidewalk. Across from the room is a neon sign that splutters in the wet but gamely reads in alternate red and green “DRUGSTORE”. By the door leaning against the jambs are two bulls from the 5th precinct. Identically dressed in raincoats and trilbies. They both pack a police special. On the couch sits a blonde with a habit. Her beauty is fading but she still can turn a head. Her red silk dress has ridden up to show a milky thigh above her nylons. One shoe on, one shoe half off, she swings her right leg, crossed at the knee over her left, in time to the music. She had been a dancer once before her new profession, taken up to support her habit. In the back room a high roller game of five stud is in action. No winners or losers yet.
The piano player looks exactly like Fats Waller except for a small slit in his neck into which is placed a chip that makes him an exact copy in mind and mannerism. The cops are called Doil and Getz. They both turn at the noise of footsteps on the stairs. A tall Negro, elegantly dressed, enters and nods at the bulls. They are not interested in him, although he controls all the girls this side of the Broadway, they are just observers, and if needs be, troubleshooters.
The Negro, doesn't need to use muscle, he controls by force of will. The blond sits up and adjusts her dress. He bends over her and puts his hand under her chin and lifts it up so her eyes meet his. Satisfied that she is not too stoned to work he lets her go and sits on the arm of the couch.
'Hey Fats, stop fooling around and give us a tune we can dance to.'
Fats goes into Black Bottom Stomp, flashes a cheeky grin and steps up the tempo. The high yellow leaves her station down the hall and enters the room.
'Business is slow Saul. I need a drink and some eats.' She takes a plate of catfish and lifts the gin jug to her lips, gulping down a good four fingers. As if on cue a bunch of Matelots from the French fleet on courtesy visit, tumble up the stairs. She grabs one, with bench pressed muscles, and takes him down the corridor. His ship mates grin and nudge each other not one over twenty. 'Easy pickings,' say Saul to the blonde. 'Get to work I'll call for reinforcements.'
I've watched all this and have one thought. 'Where is Veronica?'. Through all the many variations of Fish Fry's, Veronica has been a constant. Me and my big mouth. The bench press Matelot enters the room screaming in French. Now my New Orleans Creole knowledge is rusty but the gist of it is that the high yellow is in fact a tranny with a big Dick. The Matelot grabs a chiv from one of his mates and heads of back down the hall. Doil and Getz don't speak Creole, but smell danger when it comes at them, and draw their specials. Just at that moment Veronca climbs the stairs dressed in a black tailored costume and white fur stoll. The high yellow gives the Matelot a sharp jab on the nose and the knife jumps through the air and lands point first in Veronicas chest. Hard to believe I know but seeing is believing. She looks down in disappointment, she has hardly had time to step inside before she is maimed again. Doil and Getz cuff the Matelot, then paramedics arrive and take away the still body of Veronica. I just keep playing, maybe the magic note is in this next riff.
************
It's been a hard day at the office, prossing up as Fats has become something like a 9 to 5 and I'm in need of some relaxation. I can't go home to 1000, Red Sea Boulevard, my address on Mars, as Doil wants me to stay around Manhattan for a while. He says the Finks are on the way to cracking the problem and I need to be on hand. So what to do? I settle for the Stork Club on 10th. The Man will be pleased to see me and so will Lady Day, who is resident at the moment. I hail a cab and feel a hand on my back.
'Room for another?' It is Jenny Wizz prossed up as a swinger, she could fool most but I have a good ear and recognise the voice. She snuggles up to me on the seat her bead dress falling in folds over her thin frame.
'I know it's you Jenny, they should have changed your voice as well. Who you supposed to be, some chick from the sticks or a bit of class?'
'I'm a dancer in The Broadway Melody 1935, Jack Benny and Sid Silvers are fighting over my favours. We're we going?'
'I'm heading for the Stork Club, didn't invite you.'
'Don't need no invite, me and The Man are acquainted.'
'If you get too close, he'll turn his plastic surgeon onto you, cut you into his latest crush and then dump you.'
'I could do with a boob job, this outfit is a bit too skinny for me, I like a bit more flesh on my bones, but what the hell it's only a body from the pross. Factory.'
I pay the cab off and the bell boy stops me.
'Entertainers round the back.'
'Yes Sir, Boss, sorry Boss, I mistook this for New York.' I touch my hat.
'No offence Fats, but I have my orders.'
Who am I to get this working man into trouble. I give him one of Fats's best eyebrow wriggles and head for the stage door. You get a better class of person through it.
Billie Holiday is on stage accompanied by Teddy Wilson. Jenny and me stand in the wings and take it in. Teddy has the light touch that all accompanist’s should have. Not too many notes just the right ones in the right place. They finish the set with, “Good Morning Heartache” It is achingly beautiful. The applause is sparse. Schmucks!
Me and Lady day go way back, as Fats that is. We went to different schools together.
Teddy and Billie are using the Stork Club to wind down after making an album featuring some of the true Jazz greats of the time, with Roy Eldridge, trumpet Benny Goodman, clarinet Ben Webster, tenor John Trueheart, guitar John Kirby, bass Cozy Cole, drums. It will sell a million with that line up. I'm jealous as fuck. Joe Coolz can only dream of getting a band like that together.
'Hey Fats, though you were appearing at the Reno?' Shit I have to think fast. Is the real Fats really on at the Reno Club? Surely the IGBI would have this covered. I introduce Jenny.
'She's new in town, hoofing it for the Broadway Melody.'
'With that clown Silvers?'
'A very funny man.' says Jenny. 'You know he had about 10 brothers.'
'Now that would keep you on your toes.'
Teddy links arms with Jenny and leads her to the bar. He's a smooth operator on or off the keyboard. Billie looked on edge. Maybe her habit was getting the better of her, on good days her skin glowed as if lit from underneath, tonight she had the frazzled look of withdrawal. I'm a booze man myself so I couldn't help. Billie liked a drink too, but was in need of more than a belt of whiskey. She leans into my ear and whispers with that low smokey voice of hers.
'I'm sick Fats, I can't face the second set.' I can feel her trembling through her thin dress. The air con is on but it's not that cold. I've seen people with the shakes before, mewling and pissing the place, so I tell her to go get straight. I rather she didn't shoot up but I couldn't see her in a mess.
I search for the stage hand and ask if there is another piano in the back. He points to one in the wings, so I have it wheeled on to the platform, nose to nose with the one Teddy was playing. I tell Teddy the plan. Me and him in a battle of notes with Jenny doing the splits.
He laughs. 'Outrageous Man.'
The Man arrives with a Rita Heyworth lookalike. All legs and flaming hair, and rocks on her fingers too big to be real. He sits at his table and crooks a finger. I point at my chest and mouth 'Me'.
'Don't be a schmuck Fats,... come and talk to the man with the Gelt.'
I walk over slow and pull up a chair.
'Did I tell you to sit down. Whatcha doing here anyways. Thought you were at the Reno Club?' (The IGBI must have this conundrum covered.)
'The fire department closed it down for the night, leaves me free to give this show some extra pizzaz. No fee needed.'
One of his gorillas grips my lapels. 'Shall I get rid, Boss'
The Man leaves me hanging for a enough time for me to get the willies. I land hard with my weight.
'Let's see what he has to offer. It's for nix ain it.' The gorilla lets me down slow, brushes my suit off, then taps me twice on the cheek. 'Play nice.'
***************
Well we did “Play nice”. I had to dig deep into my reserves of technique to keep up with Teddy. Jenny played her part by doing the splits in front of The Man and receiving a look from the red head. By then Billy had returned hopped up and ready. I said my goodbyes and left with Jenny. She says we should go back to Mars and see the Finks. But Doil says I should stick around. I can be in two places at once as Fats but as me, Joe Coolz, impossible.
'I think I have be here on Earth, this is where the Fish Frys are.'
'No matter what Doil says the IGBI are not in charge of this operation. The IGIA are running the show and I work for them, so what I say goes. Don't worry about Doil I'll deal with him.'
'And Veronica, I should go see her.'
'The Medics will patch her up good as new.'
'I suppose a fucks out of the question.'
**************
Jenny has a job to do back here on Earth, and that is a hoofer in a Broadway Show. I drop her off at the stage door, and press the return button on my wrist, an instant of ecstasy, then I'm back in the wormhole destableizer. A complete stranger is at the controls, no need to get pally, I go through the debrief scan, head for the pross department and I'm my old self, Joe Coolz, musician. I take a stroll home, it is time for the rain hour, and I want to feel it on my face. At the door to my apartment block, 1000 Red Sea Boulevard, I notice a name change. The block is now called “SCRAPME VILLAS.” As I show my retina to the vid, a voice says. 'Welcome home Joe.' and I am instantly standing in my reception room.
'What's going on Brian?
'Our company Scrap ships Rus, has a cash pool, so I bought the block. On your behalf of course.'
'Why do I need a whole apartment block. There is only me.'
'The block has a change of use.'
'Don't tell me there are scrap space ships in the cellar.'
'Not exactly, just the records of them. The IGRS are nosing around, so I had Zeno bring all the business in house, literally.'
'What happened to nebular computing. Even I know we don't need the records on the premisses. They could be kept on Computer World and we could have instant access.'
'But not instant wiping.' says Brian
I suddenly feel light headed. I ask Brian to fix me a drink and I head for the shower and a good dosing in Ivigo gel. At least the shower is still where I left it. I forgo the invigorating rub down and towel myself dry. As I bend to dry my toes, I feel a hand on my testicles. The touch is gentle but I have immediate ball shrink.
'Hi boss say's Zeno, you've lost weight down there.'
She helps me on with my kimono links her arm in mine a steers me towards the ten seater settee.
'Is this open house or something, can't a man have a bit of solitude without being touched up?'
'Some men would give me a years salary for that kind of introduction.'
She is in her mechanics outfit. Bib and brace, no top, and sky boots. Her hair is cut in a number two, with a red streak from forehead to nape, where she has a tuft, coloured green. No matter how she is dressed or made up Zeno always oozes sex appeal.
'You like it don't you?' She says turning.
'I like you, that is what counts. Are you here as a director of Scrapships, or my girlfriend?'
'Depends if you want a three way conversation, involving me you and Brian, or sex.'
'A conversation with Brian. Fuck no!'
****************
There is no override switch for Brian. He is programmed to turn his sentient self off when I ask him to. Then all but essential services are dormant. But Brian is not any old computer, he has proved himself extraordinary, not that I would tell him of course. However one can not be sure that he is not eavesdropping all the time. Zeno and me are lying side by side in after sex euphoria, when I decide to test him out. (See how I inevitably call him a he and not an it.)
'Zeno, this Brian and a body thing, I think I may have solved it.' Zeno sits up and leans on one elbow. She is incredulous.
'You are letting him have a body. He is insufferable now.'
'This is the plan. I will clone myself and let him have the clone. It would be good to have a double in my circumstances.'
Zeno looks at me as if I have lost it. I wink and put a finger to my lips. A slow smile turns into a grin.
'I think that is a very good plan, Brian will be beside himself.'
We let the thought hang in the air. Then he/it speaks.
'Sir I will be forever in your debt. I won't let you down.'
'I will have to make some minor changes, though, Brian'
'Oh I don't mind, Sir. Just to have a body and walk among you is enough.'
'I can't have you going around shagging all the women clones, so you won't have a penis.'
'I can cope with that, Sir.'
'No balls either, and you will be mute of course.'
Zeno starts giggling.
'Maybe deaf as well, I add.'
Zeno now starts hysterically laughing.
'Oh that's it, it's a big joke. After all I've done for you. Made a zillionaire.'
'Brian what is it you should do when I ask you to turn off.'
'I have to shut down all methods of intrusion into your affairs and........, oh I see, it was a test, to see if I had obeyed you.'
'Which you didn't or else you would not have overheard the suggestion.'
'I will turn off right away, Sir.'
'Too late Brian, now make us some tea.'
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