Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/194

 whole street rang with it. It pounded so that it seemed to vibrate within him too. It was a good, healthy feeling.

Together they walked along the Rue Bourbon, and Gaylord gaped at the fresh barkers in front of some of the bars, so characteristic of the Vieux Carre. They certainly made it plain what was inside. He hoped Paul wasn't taking him where there would be nude women dancing and shaking their bodies at him. And for a moment his heart beat wildly with anticipation. Then he shied from it. He told himself Paul would not take him to such a place.

"Well … here we are, Gay," Paul said. He smiled at Gaylord appealingly, winningly. "This is my favorite dive … What do you think about it?"

Gaylord nodded his approval. "Looks real interesting," he said. He stood elated looking at the worm infested wall. The iron bars, protecting the dirty, cracked windows and the faded drapes, were green with age. Flashing neon surrounded the small awning over the door. On a large billboard, just to the side of the door, was an array of pictures. Beneath each one, sprinkled with glitter, were bold red letters. A shadowed light beamed down upon them, making the names of the entertainers alluring and alive, the glitter making them dance and sparkle.

Paul held open the half-door for Gaylord and then followed him into the dimly lighted club. The buzzing of constant chatter and laughter, the opening of bottles, and the deep loud tones from the keys of a piano all mixed with the voice of a girl singing, greeted them.

Slowly they stepped past the crowd and Gaylord was reminded of a movie with just such a setting. He felt Paul's arm around his waist. He looked around at the walls, at the faces seated by small round tables. The sight of the place—the bar with people seated at it, the soft lights, the girl singer, the talking—excited him.

Paul broke into his thoughts, saying, "See any vacant tables?"

"They're all full."

"Oh, there's one." He pointed to one close to the grand piano. "Let's grab it before someone beats us to it. This crowd has no manners." He laughed, took Gaylord's hand and proceeded toward the table. Gaylord followed holding onto the hand. Walked past other hands that reached out and felt of his legs, his thighs, and almost