Page 22 of Praying for Thunder

“You’ll see.” He squatted next to my bed. “Was Dio nice to you?”

My pajamaed feet tapped together. “Yeah! He has toys and lollypops!”

Sitting next to me, Aunt Moo-Moo’s eyes slid shut. “Hot and loves kids.” She fanned herself. “Is it getting hot in here?”

Chuckling, Stew got back to questioning me, “Do you think he liked you?”

“Yes, sir! He said kids are bril-bril—Ani said he meant smart. He also said adults should listen to us.”

Moola moaned. “I think I need five minutes alone with my hand.”

Now, Stew outright laughed. “Woman! Would you focus?”

She teased, “Oh, I’m focused.”

To me, he asked, “Do you want to see Dio again?”

Now, I was sad. “Yeah, but Ani packed our bags.”

Moola gasped.

Stew shook his head at her, but asked me, “When did she do that, Little Guy?”

I pouted. “Today.”

“Do you wish you could say goodbye to Dio before you leave?”

“Yes, sir.”

Moola mumbled a warning, “Crossing a line.”

Stew stood. “She can hate me or thank me later.” He put his arms out. “Come on, Little Guy.”

Panicked, Moola stood. “What are you doing?”

I jumped into his arms as he proclaimed, “Listening to a smart kid.”

“Oh, shit.” She followed us out the door and stayed close.

Passing the stairs that led to the stage on my right, I was carried down the hallway opposite the back door that led outside. Then we entered the dark club, causing my eyes to squint and strain. Until this point, I’d only been permitted out of the dressing room when the club was closed and the lights were on. It was so dim now I couldn’t see the commercial carpet was red.

When I spent time in the club, it was plain. Ordinary and quiet. Now, it was like a cave. I could usually see the painted black piping on the ceiling. Now, the black ceiling was blended, almost invisible.

The whole place was packed with entranced men, all facing the mystical stage. I’d never seen the stage in its glory, with seductive lighting in shades of blue, ivory, and mixes of pink.

In front of the stage was an abundance of two and four-top tables. Along the two walls, one in front of the stage and one to the right, were shadowy booths.

Ani’s time on stage had ended, but she was having a drink with a customer in a corner booth, unaware of what Stew was up to.

Keeping me to his left side so Ani couldn’t see me, Stew and Moola headed straight ahead from the hallway for the bar. The bar was across the room from the entrance, in the front righthand corner. Until now, every time I saw the bar, it was bare, with empty stools. Now, it had red candles, lots of cocktails and open beer bottles, and a man on every stool.

One, at the end, sat staring gravely at the corner booth…

The music was loud, the DJ even louder, but Stew heard me when I cheered, “Dio!”

“Oh, shit,” Moola cursed again.

Dio had yet to see me. He was still far too busy staring at Ani in the corner with a stranger.