The Pooling: Vivian Buchanan

The sun beat down on Jose’s back as he bent above the ivory pool chair. His hair flopped into his eyes, and he could feel the sweat dripping down his face.
“Rub right there Jose.”

“Here, ma’am?”

“Yes, Jose, right there, and while I have you, straighten this towel under my head, will you?”
“Sure ma’am, whatever you like, ma’am.”

“Jose, you rubbed it in well, didn’t you?”

“Yes ma’am, I rubbed it all in, ma’am.”

“What about the spot just below my right shoulder?”

“Here?”

“Yes Jose, I feel a glob of lotion there. Please rub it in.”

Jose began rubbing like crazy. He rubbed back and forth and up and down and in a circular motion. He put more lotion on his hands, and reapplied it to her entire back, but still the bitch wasn’t happy. He hated these country club vixens. They were all rich and spoiled, and had nothing better to do than find ways to make his life a living hell. Jose just wanted to mind his business, and do his work. He wanted to fold his towels, straighten his chairs, and deliver drinks. Make an honest dollar and go home to his wife and his new baby boy. He thought about his son while he rubbed, and tried to forget the wrinkled debutant he was working on.
“Okay, Jose, that’s enough, I think you got everywhere now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Jose wiped the excess lotion onto his sweat towel, and recapped the lotion. He was determined to smile and maintain his obedience no matter what this woman did to him, as that was the only way to ensure that he would get a decent tip. He had already spent over forty-five minutes of his day working on Vivian Buchanan’s tanning lotion, and he wanted payment for his time. Though she was the most difficult of the women at the club, and she wasn’t the most consistent tipper, it was worth it when she did tip. The key was to keep quiet, and suppress the desire to choke her when you were close enough to do it. She had sent more than ten staff people packing this summer alone, and Jose refused to be her next victim. He had a baby now and he needed his paycheck more than ever.
“Jose!”

“Ma’am?”

“Grab me a gin and diet tonic, will you?”

“Sure ma’am, anything else?”

“No, that will do for now”

Jesus, Jose thought to himself. It’s 9:40 a.m. on a Tuesday, and this woman wants a gin and tonic. It wasn’t unheard of for him to deliver a drink this early in the morning, to be sure, but most of the woman wanted a morning drink, like a bloody mary, or a mimosa. To him, those drinks seemed more reasonable, but a GIN and TONIC, it just didn’t seem right. You might as well paint the words alcoholic across your own forehead before you leave the house in the morning. Jose stopped at the men’s room to wash his hands, and went to the bar for Vivian Buchanan’s drink.
“Hey, Johnny, Toxie wants her morning cocktail.”

They call her Toxie because she has had so much botox injected into her face that she can’t relax it. Popular theory said that 95% of the people she fires get canned because of that face. She is so shot up that she is unable to make a single expression and it’s virtually impossible to figure out what she is thinking at any given moment. The only changes to her facial features that the staff have discovered are the flush that comes over her late in the afternoon (after she reaches the five drink mark), and the twitch that begins in the left corner of her mouth when she is flirting.
“She’s getting started early today, Jose, you better be careful.”

“I will man, don’t worry about me.”

As Jose approaches Vivian Buchanan with her drink, she raises a hand and bellows.

“Joooooose!”

“Yes, Ms. Vivian, right here.”

“Jose, do you have my drink?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Splendid. Now bring it over here and place it in front of me so that I can reach it from my chair.”
Jose steps toward her gingerly, remembering the agony of his hands on her skin a short time ago. The touching was the worst part of the job. He could handle being talked down to, argued with, and even yelled at, but he couldn’t stand having to touch these women. It just didn’t seem right, and he couldn’t wait for the day that he could escape this place. The day that he had saved up enough money to start his own business. Jose’s Taco Palace. He could picture the sign above the door, and the food on the plates. Heaping platters with beans and rice. Margaritas overflowing their glasses. His iguana in a large glass tank in the center of the dining room.
The glass clinks as it touches the cement patio. Before Jose can pull his hand away, Vivian has reached down to retrieve it, and her hand closes over his. She lifts her head from the towel, and looks down into the glass, her hand still secure over his.
“Jose, where is my slice of lime?”

“Lime, ma’am?”

“Yes, Jose, L-I-M-E, lime! A round green fruit, much like a lemon.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know that, ma’am.”

“Well, if you know, than why don’t I see one in my drink?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I will get you one now, ma’am.”

“Jose, you didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you put a lime in my drink to begin with?”

“Ma’am, it was just an oversight, a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Jose, do you know who I am?” she asks, squeezing harder.

“Yes, Ms. Buchanan. Yes, I do. I apologize, Ms. Buchanan. I will get you your lime now.”
“No, Jose, you will not get me my lime now, because I don’t want an incompetent idiot with zero brain cells draining all the energy out of me all day. Get out of my sight. Go inside and tell Mr. Radcliffe that you are a useless, ignorant man, and that I would like someone more appropriate to come out here and wait on me,” she says, pushing her hand away.
“But ma’am, you didn’t ask for a lime in the first place.”

Jose began backing away from the chair, and Vivian Buchanan began to push herself up from her position. Before he could move she charged, pushing him backwards into the pool. In his surprise, Jose began flailing about and kicking, sucking down chlorine water as he struggled to breathe. His head emerged from the water, and he could hear screams cutting through the air.
“Norman!”

“NORMAN!!!”

“Get out here NOW!”

Norman Radcliffe came rushing from inside the club, sweat already pouring down his cheeks from his brow. As a heavyset man, there was a limit to how fast he could move, but in the split second that it took for Jose to pull himself from the pool Norman had already reached the water’s edge. Norman was a nice man, and the staff all knew that he would never treat people the way he did if it weren’t for Vivian. Two years ago she had taken him for everything he had, and she planned to spend the rest of her life reminding him of just how much control she still had. In the blink of an eye she could give her love or take it away, just as she had taken their marriage. Norman looked down at Jose sure of what was to come.
“Norman, look at this wretched little man, he was in our pool, the GUEST pool.”

“Yes, Vivian. I can see that.”

“Well, Norm, from what I know, that is against the rules.”

“Yes, Viv, it is.”

“Well GET-HIM-OUT-OF-HERE!”

“Okay, Vivian, please, just stop causing a scene.”

Vivian’s slid her Gucci’s down to the tip of her nose and glared deep into Norman’s eyes. Norman hung his head sadly and looked away.
“Come on, Jose, let’s go.”

Jose walked three feet behind Norman as they headed for the staff quarters. Both men dropped their shoulders and stared at their feet, Jose dripping from his encounter with the pool, a trail of water left in his wake.
“I am really sorry about this Jose, but my hands are tied.”

“I know Mr. Radcliffe, sir.”

“You have been a good worker, and I would like to help you.”

“Sir?”

“Go to the pro shop and pick out any outfit you would like, then please take free liberty into the men’s locker room, and get yourself cleaned up. Stop by the front desk on your way out. I will leave you a check for two-month’s pay plus your vacation time.”
“Thank you Mr. Radcliffe, sir.”


************************************************


As Jose entered the pro shop Lou Saunders re-cradled the phone and looked up at him sadly. All the staff knew about Jose’s new baby, and his dreams of opening a restaurant. More than anyone else on the staff, the other people at Orchard Hill liked Jose. He was a kind, hard-working man, and he never lost sight of his dreams.
“I’m sorry, Jose.”

“Its okay, Lou. It could happen to any of us.”

“Yes, I know, but the last person we ever expected this to happen to was you.”

“Well, I appreciate that, and I want you to know that you have been a good friend to me Lou. When I was new and didn’t know the ropes, you were always kind, and you helped me to figure things out. I will never forget your generosity. Now, Mr. Radcliffe said I should pick out an outfit.”
“I have chosen the three best suits that we have in your size for you to pick from.”

“Suits?”

“Mr. Radcliffe would like to help you on your way, and he thought a suit might be just the thing you needed to get you started.”
“Oh, I see. I guess it does make sense, but I have never owned a nice suit before.”

“Well, let’s just have you try them on.”

Jose pulled the jacket from the hanger and put it on over the gleaming white Brooks Brothers shirt Lou had left for him. He stared at his reflection, and couldn’t believe his eyes. He imagined himself as a businessman on Wall Street. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and smiled. He pretended to reach out his hand to shake, and to pull a business card from his pocket. Pleasure to meet you. Joe Jones, Goldman Sachs. But when he blinked, it was only Jose Juarez staring back at him. He wasn’t Joe Jones, and he would never work on Wall Street. Jose shrugged; at least he could sell the suit later if he hadn’t found work by the time the rent was due again.
Jose walked out of the dressing room and tossed his wet clothes into the garbage can.

“Wooey, Jose, look at you. Handsome one you are.”

Jose did a spin, and for a moment both men forgot what all this meant, and broke into laughter. They laughed until they cried. Until Jose’s stomach hurt so bad that it reminded him of the pain of that morning, and he stopped. He reached out to shake Lou’s hand,
“Thanks for the suit…and for everything else.”
“You take good care of yourself Jose.”

“I will Lou, I will.”


**********************************************************



“That’s exactly how I like my drink. I don’t know how you got it right the first time, but I am glad you did. Now, what’s your name boy?”
“Michael, Ms. Buchanan.”

“Michael. Michael. Common name, but its good enough I would guess.”

“I think so Ms. Buchanan.”

“Well Michael, you nailed my drink, now let’s see how you do with the tanning lotion.”

“Ma’am?”

“Right there on the table. You do see it, don’t you?”

“Yes Ms. Buchanan.”

Michael reached out for the bottle of lotion. He was new at the club, and this was the first time that someone had asked him to apply lotion. At the age of seventeen, he had never even rubbed lotion on a girl, let alone a woman older than his mother. It intimidated him and excited him at the same time. He watched Ms. Buchanan’s back rise and fall as her lungs filled with air. She was so thin that her wrinkled skin seemed to hang off her ribcage, but the thought of touching that tan flesh made his heart beat faster.
He took a deep breath and poured out some lotion rubbing his hands together to coat them. As his hands made contact with her back he felt the warmth of her skin flowing up through his palms and into his arms. He rubbed first across then lengthwise, taking care to be gentle. He rubbed until all the lotion was absorbed into her skin and it glowed. He could smell the No. 5 perfume wafting off of her as he knelt close to her skin, and he closed his eyes for a moment to take in the scent. It reminded him of someone, or something, but he couldn’t place exactly what.

“Now, Michael, be a dear and go fetch me another gin and tonic.”

“Anything else, ma’am?”

“No, that will be all.”

When Michael got up to the bar Johnny had already started making the drink. He wiped his hands on a towel, the scent of Vivian’s perfume still strong in his nose as he pondered the rumors about her.
“Hey, man, how you doing out there” asked Johnny.

“Ok, so far. I think I can handle it.”

“Good thing, bud, I wouldn’t want you to end up like poor Jose.”

“I don’t think that will happen to me, I will just stay out of her way.”

“Easier said than done, bro, seriously.”

“Well, if I get fired I will just go back to valeting. You don’t make as much as you do here, but it’s easier, and I am all about work that doesn’t require much effort.”
“I hear that, now bring Ms. Toxie her drink before she gets cranky.”

Michael squeezed some extra lime into the glass and set off to deliver the drink. As he walked towards Ms. Buchanan, he noticed that all the staff looked away from him. They weren’t friendly, calling out hellos and how-are-yous, and they all had odd expressions and didn’t make direct eye contact with him. Oh well, thought Michael, you can’t expect people to talk to you now when you are working for the most difficult guest at the entire club. I am sure they are just fearful of doing something to distract me and becoming victim of Ms. Buchanan’s wrath.
“Here you are ma’am, your gin and tonic.”

Michael placed the glass down in front of the pool chair silently, noticing that behind the large sunglasses Ms. Buchanan was asleep. He quickly took a breath, hopeful to catch the scent of her perfume before rising. As he stood, he felt something on his leg, and looked down to find her hand on his inner thigh. She had reached up, and put her hand directly up Michael’s shorts. He stood frozen, sweat pouring down his face, unable to breathe. Slowly she reached up, further up, her fingernails barely grazing his manhood. Michael’s shorts felt suddenly tight. His eyes began darting around the patio. He saw the other staff, and families, and mothers lounging by the pool. He saw grandmothers and grandfathers in sport coats sitting at tables under umbrellas. He saw the blue water and the gray patio and the brightness of the sun shining down on him. He wanted to stop her, but he just couldn’t find the words to say.
“You are quite a young man Michael,” Vivian said as she pulled her hand away.

Michael let out a small groan and closed his eyes for a moment. He held his breath and tried to block out the images of everything around him and the feeling that she, this woman, Vivian Buchanan, had just given him. Vivian began reaching into her bag, and pulled out her cell phone.
“Run and get me some fresh towels please.”

“Yes, Ms. Buchanan.”

Michael practically ran from her side. When he reached the pool house he began frantically pulling towels from the shelves, trying to process what had just happened. He curled into a ball on the floor, smothering himself in the pile of towels. He knew that Ms. Buchanan should not have done that to him, yet part of him wanted her to do it again. Michael felt the tightness in his shorts again and was so disgusted with himself that he began to retch.

*********************************************************

When he returned to the pool, Vivian was on the phone chatting with someone. As she saw him approach, she allowed her dark sunglasses to slide down her nose so that he would know she was watching him, but refused to make eye contact. Vivian slowly stood and stepped to the side so that Michael could change the towels. He pulled the old towels from her chair and laid out the new ones quickly and precisely.
“Sophia, I told you to dump that lump of a man, he has done nothing for you. I don’t care about love. Love will let you down every time. Just come over to the pool and we will talk about it here,” she said as she slammed her phone shut.
Michael stood clutching the towels listening to her speak. He knew nothing about love, nothing about sex or the pleasures of being with a woman. He could only imagine what it might be like to experience these things. He couldn’t stop staring at Vivian’s tan body, her slick lotion-covered skin, her large voluptuous breasts. His eyes were stuck on the breasts. They were round and defined, triangles of zebra print fabric barely shielding them from his vision.
“Michael, stop gawking at me like a fool.”

“Oh, uh, sorry Ms. Buchanan.”

“Michael, I have a friend coming to sit with me. I am going to need another gin and tonic, as well as a bloody mary, extra spicy.”
“Ok, Ms. Buchanan.”

“And obviously we are going to need another chair set up for her.”

“Yes, Ms. Buchanan, right away.”

Again, Michael practically ran from her, afraid of another confrontation with her roaming hands. When he arrived at the bar, Johnny could tell right away that something had happened.
“Mike, what happened to you? You look sick, dude.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“No. I don’t believe you. I can tell something happened. You are pale as a ghost, did she yell at you or something?”
“Listen Johnny, I told you that nothing happened, and nothing did, I am just tired, that’s all. Now can you please get me her drink and an extra spicy bloody mary? I need to get back over there before she starts freaking out.”
“Sure, but you listen here, bud, you don’t have to take any crap from her. You can go inside and you can tell Radcliffe that you can’t take it, and you don’t want to work for her anymore.”
“I already lasted three hours with her. It’s only an hour and a half 'til the end of my shift, I am sure I can make it that much longer.”
“Ok, but if you need anything you let me know. I am going to keep my eye on you.”

“Whatever makes you feel good,” Michael said, blushing.

As Michael finished straightening the towels and pulled the chair parallel to Vivian’s his eyes caught on movement across the pool. As the woman neared him, he could see purple bruises protruding from behind her extra large sunglasses, and he grimaced. As she arrived at the chair the woman immediately reached for her bloody mary.
“Sophia, you look like hell, let me see you,” said Vivian.
“Oh Vivian, you know what they look like the first week after the surgery, don’t act like you haven’t seen eyes like this before.”
“Well I don’t really care what I have and haven’t seen before, I want to see you. Let me check things out, make sure they didn’t leave any extra skin flopping around.”
As the woman removed her glasses Michael felt instantly sick. Her eyelids were swollen masses of blue and purple, peppered with dark red veins, and there were black stitches sticking out all over the place. Vivian touched the woman’s face gently, inspecting the handiwork of her surgeon.
“See, Sophia, I told you to see Dr. Roberts. He did beautiful work on you, really, quite exquisite.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course dear. Would I lie to you?”
After replacing her sunglasses and handing her robe to Michael Sophia sat down in the chair and began sipping her drink nervously. In three sips the glass was empty, and Michael ran off to get her another. When he dropped it off, he overheard the conversation of the closed-eyed women.
“What I am telling you, Sophia, is that when I was young my mom and aunties used to tell me to marry for money, not for love. After all—they all did, and now I know that their advice was right. Every one of them is still married to this day, living in mansions with five carat diamond engagement rings on their fingers. Let’s be honest here, do you really think I would have made it this far if they hadn’t shown me the way life could be?”
“Well no Vivian, I don’t, but what I am saying is that I do love Bruce.”
“Dear, what has he done for you lately? When was the last time that fat slob of a man told you that you looked nice, or asked you to go on vacation with him? You work hard trying to keep up your appearance and for what? So that he can ignore you and run around with 18-year-old trollops? You should be glad that you are getting rid of him now, while you are still young enough to get a new man.”
“Vivian, I don’t want a new man, I want Bruce,” she said as tears began to stream down her cheeks.
“Please, stop Sophia. Honestly, you aren’t supposed to cry during your recovery, I told you that and I know they told you at the doctor’s office. Just forget about old Bruce for right now.”
“I am going to go powder my nose,” she said, rushing from Vivian before any more tears could escape her eyes.
“Ok dear, you do that, and then come back and let Vivian finish her story.”
As soon as Sophia had walked away Vivian called Michael over.
“Michael, come over here for a minute, I need to speak to you.”
“Yes ma’am, what do you need?”
“Well, Michael, I will be honest, my friend Mrs. Dusterfeld is not doing very well today. I will need you to bring me a cool washcloth, and a cup of ice, along with another round of drinks.”
“Ma’am?”
“Don’t ask questions Michael; just bring me the things I am asking for.”
“Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am.”
When Michael returned Sophia had resumed her post and Vivian was going off about her theories on life again.
“Oh what lives my aunties have had. I must admit, they trained me well. I learned as a little girl what nice things were, and I have never forgotten. Look at me now. It’s been seven quick marriages to seven bastard men, but I’ve got a truckload of money, three boats, seven homes, five ex-husbands, and I’ve been a widow twice. So you see, my dear, nothing you could do to that poor idiot Bruce is really all that bad. Believe me I have been down EVERY road at least once.”
“But Vivian, I don’t know if I have it in me. Bruce did love me once, and I am sure I can make him love me again. Maybe if I got just a bit more lipo this summer he would come around.”
“Stop kidding yourself. It’s time to take out the garbage or at the very least take the laundry to the cleaners.”
Vivian let out a horrifying laugh, and then her eyes fell on Michael. She raised up her arm and a long-fingered hand beckoned him to her. As Michael approached, both women began to stare.
“Yes, Ms. Buchanan. My shift is almost over, so I wanted to come by and make sure that you ladies were all set before I went home for the day.”
“You are going home? My dear, I thought you had just gotten here,” she said, twirling her fingers through her long blond hair. Michael couldn’t stop staring at the twitching in the corner of her mouth. He didn’t quite understand why her mouth was twitching so much. He wondered if he should mention in it in case there was something wrong with her face or something, but he thought better of it.
“My shift today was from 10-4 ma’am, I am off in just about ten minutes.”
“My my, how the time flies, doesn’t it Sophia?”
Sophia rolled onto her side, disgusted, and pretended to nap. She couldn’t bear to watch Vivian carrying on this way. She felt horrible for the pool boys here at Orchard Hill, but she felt even worse for Norman Radcliffe. Since Vivian had stolen ownership of the country club five years ago she had spent virtually every single day at the club torturing poor Norman. It was a wonder he hadn’t died of a heart attack yet. Vivian was an interesting woman, and one that you would be foolish to become enemies with, but Sophia really didn’t understand her, and really couldn’t say honestly that she actually liked her. Thinking of this, Sophia bit her tongue, though she wanted desperately to help this poor young man being chewed up by Vivian at the present moment.
“Now Michael,” purred Vivian, “Run off and get us two more drinks, and a cheese and cracker plate, then I think we will be done with you for the day.”
“Right away Ms. Buchanan,” he said, sighing with relief that he had finally reached the end of his day with her.
“Now, that there is a fine boy, don’t you think Sophia?”
“Sure, he seems pleasant enough. Do we know anything about his family?”
“Not a lick. Anyway, it is great that I never had children. Boy that would have been a mistake. A child would eat into all my free time, and I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I love to travel, and that would be really difficult with having to call the nanny back home to check on the little brat all the time. I am sure you feel the same way, what with your Bruce situation, and all. A child would make the whole thing an even bigger mess.”
“Vivian, I can’t believe you would say something like that. You know that Bruce and I wanted a child, and that we tried for years to have one, how could you say that to me? What kind of an insensitive person talks to someone in my situation that way?”
As Michael approached the chairs, he saw Vivian reach over and cup Sophia’s face between her hands. Her glasses slid down her nose as if on cue, and as her glaring eyes made contact with Sophia’s face, she began hissing from between her teeth.
“Do you know who you are talking to? Do you want to stop and think about what you just said to ME? Do you think that I care about your stupid dreams for a bumbling little child? I am quite sure that any child born of that man would have grown up awkward, gangly, and hideous. Why would you want to bring a creature like that into the world? I am the queen of this club. I am the queen of everything around me. This world is my oyster, and mine alone. I have not worked this hard to build my empire so that some ungrateful bitch with body image issues can come and sit around next to me whimpering about the sadness in her big soft heart. Now you get out of here, and you never come back, for if you do I will see to it that very bad things happen to you.”
Michael gingerly set down the tray of food, and the ladies drinks, but Sophia was sobbing loudly now, and as she began grabbing around for her things, she caught her ankle on something, and knocked over the table. Everything crashed to the ground, including Sophia, who landed face-first on the hard concrete patio. Blood began pooling next to her face, and she was unconscious. Michael bent down, and tried to help her, to see if she was breathing. He yelled out for help, for someone to call 911, and the sunlight blazed across his back as he knelt over Sophia’s body. He reached over to the chairs and began grabbing the towels to wrap her head in them. When he looked up a moment later, he saw Vivian smiling. A woman formerly expressionless was now frozen in a sinister grin, staring down at him.
“Michael, leave her be and get me a new drink, as that one seems to have spilled.”
“But Vivian, she is hurt, I can’t get you a drink right now, she may die,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks now, his heart beating fast.
“I have treated you well all day Michael, and if you want your beloved tip you will pull yourself together and do as I say immediately.”
Out of nowhere came Mr. Radcliffe, and the other workers, and the EMT personnel. Michael slowly backed away and sunk to the pavement, clutching himself. He couldn’t stop staring as flipped Sophia over, and began using the shock boards on her chest. The taller medical worker put his cheek just in front of her lips, searching for breath. He felt her neck and her wrists for a pulse, and moments later, the EMT stood up from her body.
“I’m sorry, but she is gone,” he said, looking at Michael.
As they wheeled her body away, Vivian rose from her chair, “I think I’ll just take a quick dip in the pool before my spa appointment. Michael, I will expect my drink when I get out.”
“You bitch! You filthy, rotten, horrible woman! You just killed her. You killed her and I saw you do it. I saw you stick out your foot and trip her. I heard the things you said to her and the way you upset her. She was so sad, and she had no one to talk to, and you pushed her over the edge. You are a wretched creature, and you are the one who should never have been brought into the world! You, Vivian Buchanan, you are the one that doesn’t deserve a place at this country club,” Michael screamed at her, arms flailing about, tears streaming down his face until he felt hands on his back. Mr. Radcliffe and the EMT wrapped Michael in a blanket, and walked him into the club.
Once seated inside, Mr. Radcliffe knelt down in front of Michael, as Michael continued to sob.
“Listen son, I know that what you just saw was a horrible, terrible thing, and I want you to know that nobody blames you. Mrs. Dusterfeld’s death was a tragedy, and a horrible accident. I have called your mom to come and get you, and I plan to pay you for the rest of the month, but please take the time off and relax. Try to do something fun and enjoy yourself, and when you are ready, you can come back to work. I promise you that when you return, Ms. Buchanan will not be here anymore.
“But, Mr. Radcliffe, how….”
“Don’t worry about that part of things, Michael, I will take care of everything. You are a good boy, and you have done a good job.”
“Ok, Mr. Radcliffe, I understand.”
“I knew you would.”
***********************************************************
As Vivian broke through the surface of the water, she noticed a shadow above her. She knew that Michael was a good boy, and he would turn around in the end and bring her the drink she had asked for. After all, she was sure he needed the money, all young boys needed money. When she rose from the water there was Norman, towering above her, arms folded across his chest with four police officers surrounding him.
“Hello Vivian.”
“Norman?”
“Yes, Vivian, these police officers are here to speak with you.”
“With me, but why,” she questioned.
“You and I both know why, so please stop causing a scene and follow them outside.”
As Vivian pushed herself from the water the officers surrounded her on all sides, shielding her from the onlookers around the pool. A man held each arm, and two others followed in front of and behind her as they walked her through the club to the cruisers out front. When they arrived at the car, they pulled Vivian’s hands behind her back. When she heard the click of the handcuffs a single tear trickled down her cheek. Norman Radcliffe watched as the cruiser pulled away from the curb. Finally, Vivian had gone too far, finally, the club was his again. When he was sure the car was gone, he picked up the phone. There were a few good men that he wanted to call, starting with Jose Juarez.