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Authors: Mobashar Qureshi

Race (19 page)

BOOK: Race
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Cal said, “It’s a state-of-the-art infrared video camera.
 
It registers the participant’s body heat and projects the infrared image on to the large screen.
 
The unspoken rule is that if you’re not hot enough, you’re not dancing hard enough.
 
Lots of fun.” He turned to us.
 
“This is the House of Jam.
 
The best entertainment experience in the city.”

“I would like to experience it, too,” I said.

“Doors open at eight,” he replied.

“I’ll come tonight.”

“Come to the back door and I’ll let you in,” Cal said.
 
“Call me first, okay?”

 

FOURTEEN

 

They were all in the Lincoln—Ms. Zee, Kong, Joey and
Suraj
—heading to the House of Jam.
 
Suraj
was behind the wheel and he was nervous.
 
He found the Lincoln too big to handle.
  
He would rather be in his Sundance.
 
But there was no way Ms. Zee would allow that.
  
She only went anywhere in the Lincoln.

Ms. Zee was not in a good mood.
 
It was embarrassing to have to go to your clients and retrieve the samples.
  
Joey yawned beside her. His head was facing the other direction.
 
She was sick of babysitting him.
  

Joey yawned again, this one longer and louder.
 
Kong fidgeted on the front passenger seat.
 
At first Ms. Zee had refused to bring Joey along but he begged her. It had been a while since he’d been outside the lab.
 
He needed some time to relax.
 
So did she.
 
But this was business.

 

***

 

When I was all dressed up I looked in the mirror. I was decked out in shiny black boots, brown khakis, a green silk shirt and a smooth artificial leather jacket.
  
I was ready to have fun.
 

Barnes was going to pick me up and together we were going to check out the best entertainment experience in town.
  
Beadsworth
thought he’d stick out at the House of Jam, or maybe he didn’t like clubs, so he opted to not go. Whatever the reason, I was glad I was going with Barnes. At least I didn’t have to follow someone around.
 
I was the boss. I thought maybe, given the way I was behaving earlier, Barnes would consider me his superior.
 

As I was touching up my hair there was a honk.
 

I rushed out the door and was halfway down the steps when I stopped.
 
I went back up, unlocked, and said, “Goodbye, Mike.”
 
Michael Jordan smiled back at me.
 
He approved of me having fun.
 
He always did.

When I turned the handle of the main door my landlady peered out. “Jon,” she said, “You’re very busy?”

“Yeah,” I smiled.
 

“You’re eating well?”

“Yes, great.”

“Come and have dinner with us tomorrow.”

“No,” I said.
 
“I don’t have time.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.
 
Come. I’ll make your
favourite
dish.”


Mechado
?” I said, slowly.

“Yes,
mechado
.” She smiled.

When I was first introduced to
mechado
, a Filipino beef stew, I immediately fell in love with it.
 
Now, whenever I hear the word
mechado
my taste buds start to water.
 

“I will not come for you, but for
mechado
.
 
Okay?”

She knew I was joking.
 
“Okay.”

There was another honk.


Gotta
go,” I said.
 
“See you tomorrow.”

Barnes was behind the wheel and he was grinning.
 
“I can’t believe we’ll be going to the House of Jam.
  
Y’know
, you’ve
gotta
be important to get into that place.
 
I tried going the second time.
  
They wouldn’t let me in.
 
I even tried bribing them, but nope, it didn’t work.
 
Can you believe DJ
Krash
will be playing today?
 
This is awesome.”

“We’re still on duty,” I said.
 

“What if I get lucky?” he smiled devilishly.

“Your luck will run out if Aldrich hears about this.
 
We’re not authorized to be there.
  
Beadsworth
persuaded Garnett to let us go, in the hope we find something.”

He put the car in gear.

“Also, don’t get hammered.
 
This is work. And you don’t want to show up the next day with a hangover.”

“All right, sure,” he said, a little disappointed.
 
“We go in and we scope the place out.”

“That’s it.” I smiled.
 
“If somehow, out of the blue, we see someone nice, we just get their number.
 
That’s it.”

“That’s it.” He nodded.

 

***

 

It was well past eight in the evening and there was a huge line up outside the House of Jam.
 

“There must be a couple of hundred people,” Barnes said as we drove past the waiting people.
  
We went down the block searching for a parking spot.
 
It is all but impossible to find parking in downtown Toronto.
 
I should know; I used to give tickets to those who parked illegally. I was afraid we would have to park in front of the fire hydrant or something.
 

It took us twenty minutes but we did find a spot four blocks away from the club.

“It’ll take us forever to get in with this long line,” Barnes said, concerned.

I dialed Cal Murray’s number and after a few minutes hung up.
 
“We’re going through the back.”

When we got there Cal was already waiting for us.
 
I introduced Barnes and we went up the stairs.

“You guys go and have fun,” said Cal.
 
“If you need me, I’ll be here.”

We went through the narrow hall and into the club.
 
I was blown away by the sheer energy of the place.
 
The noise was immense.
It had done a three-sixty transformation from the quiet place it was this morning.
 
It was already bustling with people.

Barnes said something inaudible.

“What?” I yelled.

He leaned closer.
 
“This is what I’m talking about.”

“How ’bout we split up.
 
You stay up here and I’ll go down.
  
If you see anything you ring me.”
 
I was yelling hard.

“Sure,” he yelled back.

I moved forward and made my way to the railing of the mezzanine.
 
Below there was a good crowd on the dance floor.
 
On the stage DJ
Krash
was mixing feverishly. He was wearing a white cap and a black t-shirt.
  
A pair of headphones was around his neck.
 
The crowd was into the music.
  
I think it was retro or contemporary—but what the hell did I know.
 
Different
coloured
lights beamed down on to the dancers.
 

I was getting into the music too.
 
Involuntarily, my head started bopping to the beat.
 
I made my way down through the right side stairs.
 
There were a lot of people and a lot of girls.
 
Now I knew why Barnes wanted to come here.

A few people had taken spots on the Beam Breaker.
 

I danced—if you call shaking your body in different directions dancing—my way to the stage.
  
DJ
Krash
was focused on mixing records on the turntables.
 
For a split second he looked up and when he saw me he smiled.

I felt important.
 
I knew the DJ.
 

 

***

 

The Lincoln turned off Queen Street West and headed south.
 
It turned into a dark alley and parked in a lot that could hold eight to ten cars.
 
It was the parking lot of the House of Jam: reserved for the owners and its guests.

Ms. Zee dialed a number and Cal answered.

“We’re coming to see you, Cal,” she said.

“But…but…” Cal started.
 

“We’ll only be there for a few minutes,” she said.

“No.
 
Come back later,” he said firmly.

“We’re outside your door,” she said.

Defeated, Cal said, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

The back door swung open.
 
Cal was not happy to see them, but he managed a smile.
  

All four of them followed Cal to his office.
 
Suraj
and Joey headed out to the club.
 

“What can I do for you?” said Cal, getting behind his desk.

“We want the samples back,” Ms. Zee said.
 
Kong was with her in the room.
 

“What samples?”

“The samples of the drug.”

“Um…” Cal put his fingers to his lips.
 
“I disposed of them right after you left.”

“I don’t believe you,” Ms. Zee answered.

“Don’t, but it wouldn’t do me any good to keep them.
 
What if the cops found the drugs?
 
They’d shut the place down.”
 
Cal leaned forward.
 
“Why do you want it back anyways?”

“The samples are not to our liking.”

“And why is that?”

“We have our reasons,” Ms. Zee said.

Not satisfied, Cal said, “Let me ask you this and tell me honestly.
 
Will you have the drug or not?”

“We will,” she said.
 
 

 

***

 

I went to the bar and ordered a ginger ale.
 
I nearly choked when the bartender told me it was three dollars.
 
It was ginger ale, not imported wine
.
 
Disgruntled, I headed for the chairs lined around the dance floor.
 
This would be a good spot to scope out the place.
 
It had an indescribable energy.
 
I could see why this was
the
club to be at.
 
The Beam Breaker already had a line-up.
 
They all wanted to try it out.
 

I already had a personal tour.
 

A girl walked up to me.
 
She smiled and said, “Buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, already bought one,” I said raising my glass of ginger ale.

Her face turned sour and she left.

I took a sip and then realized what a dope I was.
 
The girl was interested in me and I turned her down.
 
I looked around, hoping to find her again.

BOOK: Race
13.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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