Dancing With Whiskey Jack
by Nathan Elberg
“Anything to drink?” The waitress handed out menus. “We’ve got Molson on tap.”
“Bring us a pitcher.” Wisahkeczak turned to Albert. “Not too much for you; you have to drive.” She lowered her eyelids and licked her lips. “Unless you want to get a hotel room tonight. We could have a good time.”
“Um, uhh, well...”
“We’re fags, I told you,” Gary said.
“We can still get a hotel room. I told you I enjoy it either way.” Wisahkeczak lowered her voice. “People don’t talk that way now. These days being a homo is considered an orientation, not a perversion.”
Albert screwed up his face. “That’s disgusting.”
“Can you put on some good music?” Wisahkeczak called after the waitress, pointing to the stage at the front of the restaurant.
Gary looked. There was a thin, chrome pole going straight up from the stage floor, like something you’d hold on to in a crowded subway.
The waitress brought the beer to the table and grinned. “You’re going to dance for us?”
The waitress gave them each a glass. “It was my turn to perform this evening, but I got stuck serving instead. Be careful honey. Some of these guys are really antsy. They’ll have their hands all over you if they get the chance.”
“If there are tens or twenties in their hands I don’t mind.”
Gary’s stomach rose as he realized Wisahkeczak was planning to strip. The pole was some kind of prop, and the leathery old woman expected people to give her money to undress. There were about two dozen customers in the room. They were more likely to beat her senseless than reward her for removing her clothes. Maybe she could fend off the bouncer, but all these men...
She pulled lipstick — or something like that — out of her pocket and applied it to her lips. She slipped off her coat, and Gary almost fell off his chair. She was now stunningly beautiful. Long, straight black hair, almond eyes, silky-smooth olive-colored skin, and perfect alabaster teeth. A tight, button-down cotton blouse emphasized her cleavage, while a short suede skirt hugged her hips, showing long, sculpted legs.
The music started. It was loud, mostly a repetitive rhythm. Barely any tune, with a weird electronic voice repeating incomprehensible words.
“Are you still gay?” She bent over, kissed Albert’s cheek, and put a hand between his legs. “Nope,” she answered herself as she climbed onto the little stage, took hold of the pole, and started to writhe.
Twenty minutes later Wisahkeczak pulled tens, twenties, even a fifty out of her panties and handed the money to Gary. He had already counted the money she had taken from her bra before removing it.
“I’m going to give these guys a good show.” She walked back onto the stage and tore off her panties.
Gary lost track of time, but enough had passed for the other customers to drain their wallets. Wisahkeczak had given him the cash to hold while she finished dressing. “Seven hundred sixty,” he said, offering her the money back. “It must have been their payday.”
She pushed his hand away. “We can have steak dinners and pay for a nice hotel room.”
Albert stuttered, “I um...men...homo—”
Wisahkeczak reached between his legs and squeezed hard. He gasped.
“Liar. You’re going to give it to me, or I’m going to take it.” She reached up and stroked his face. “Let’s order. I’m starving.” Wisahkeczak beckoned to the waitress.
“That was some dance. No one’s ever gotten completely undressed before.” The waitress stood above them with her pad and pencil.
“Well, you have to keep something hidden to keep them wanting more the next time you’re up. I can show them everything I’ve got, since I’m not coming back here, probably for another three hundred years.” Wisahkeczak looked down at the menu. “I’ll have a chicken soup, rib steak, rare; the double-bacon cheeseburger, also rare, and a club sandwich.”
The waitress scribbled it all down. “Got it. Should take about fifteen minutes.”
“You didn’t take my little brothers’ orders.”
“Your brothers? Okay.” The waitress bit her lip, and then released it. “Sorry, I thought you ordered for them.”
“I’m starving. I need energy for what we’re going to do afterwards.” Wisahkeczak winked. “It’s not incest. Just makes it more fun to pretend it is. Come on boys; tell the nice lady what you want to eat: steak, hamburger, the waitress, sandwich...”
That was too obscene; Gary felt his face heat up. “No, we don’t—”
The waitress tightened her lips. “I just dance; I don’t sell it.”
“Can you at least show my little brothers what you got?”
She shook her head. “Orders?”
Albert ordered a steak; Gary, pork chops, well done.
Wisahkeczak pointed at Gary. “Hey, you’re Jewish, aren’t you?”
He flinched. “Uh, my mother is. My father’s—”
“You’re not supposed to eat that stuff,” Wisahkeczak hissed.
“I’m only half—”
“Don’t give me more of your bullshit. Jews aren’t supposed to eat pig.”
“I don’t bother with those old ways. How did you know about my mother?”
Wisahkeczak shook her head, a sneer on her lips.
The food came quickly and the three of them finished their meals in silence.
“So what’s it going to be, little brothers? Do we take a hotel room for you to express your gratitude?”
“It’s not right. Can’t we thank—”
Wisahkeczak grabbed Gary by the shirt, stood up, and hauled him out of his chair. “Did I ask to come with you? Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone? You had to be a hero, though, and took me away from my tree. So now I have to use your car instead to get around.” She glared at him. “You two are going to satisfy me tonight, or you’ll be very unhappy.” Wisahkeczak sat back down.
The waitress came with the check. Wisahkeczak took it and gave the waitress some cash. “Would you like to join us at a party? We’re renting a hotel room.”
The waitress shook her head as she counted the money. “I don’t sell it, I told you.”
“That’s for the meal.”
The waitress waved the cash at Wisahkeczak. “There’s a hundred dollars extra.”
“For the service.”
“Well, thank you. Come again.”
“Sure you won’t join our party? As a guest, not as a whore.”
The waitress looked at Albert, at Gary, at Wisahkeczak, and scratched her head. “No, thank you. I have to get home to my children.”
Gary looked at her hands. “You’re married?” No sign of a ring. How could a waitress who strips in a small town restaurant be married? Women who gave birth out of wedlock put their babies up for adoption.
“You don’t have to explain anything to these old-fashioned oafs, my dear. I’m taking them to the Holiday Inn to bring them up to date. Come join us later if you change your mind.” Wisahkeczak stood, holding out her hands for Albert and Gary.
It was a short drive to the hotel. Wisahkeczak handed two hundred dollars to Albert. “Check in under your name. I don’t have any identification.”
“Mine must be expired years ago. It will raise more questions. An old Indian lady with no ID would have an easier time.”
“Did the dancer at Reilly’s look like an old Indian lady? Just use your ID. There won’t be any problems.”
There weren’t any. The hotel clerk barely glanced at Albert’s license as he checked them in.
“What do you want from us?” Gary put his knapsack down in a corner of the room. “I told you we’re fags.”
“Oh, that crap, still? Not a problem. Let me go change. You guys get naked meantime. Don’t disappoint me.” She went into the bathroom.
Gary pointed to the room door and made a walking motion with his fingers. Albert’s knees were trembling as he shook his head and removed his clothes.
Wisahkeczak came out of the bathroom and stood before them naked, now a man with a huge phallus that reached his eyes. “I just borrowed this from an elephant. What do you think?” He pointed at Gary. “Since you’re gay, you’ll enjoy this. You won’t survive, but you’ll die happy. Bend over.”
Gary couldn’t move; he could only stare. Albert began to weep.
“You want to do it standing? No problem.” Wisahkeczak walked over to Gary, grabbed him by the hips, and hoisted him high into the air.
He felt Wisahkeczak’s organ making contact. “No, please. I’m not really a fag.”
Wisahkeczak dropped him onto the carpeted floor. “I told you not to talk like that.”
Gary looked up. She was a woman again: the lithe, buxom, beautiful woman who had danced at Reilly’s. She was still naked. She lowered herself onto Gary, while beckoning to Albert.
Gary had no idea sex could be so slow, or so beautiful.
Some time later, Wisahkeczak shook her bedmates awake.
Gary opened his eyes and looked out the window. “It’s still dark.”
“You’ve been out cold for five hours. It’s time to hit the road.”
His mind was still foggy from sleep, but more from Wisahkeczak’s unbelievable talents.
Albert rolled onto his side, a euphoric smile on his face. “I’ve never had a woman like you.”
“I’m sure you haven’t. Come on. If we don’t get going, you won’t get me back to my tree on time.”
“We’re taking you to—”
“Yeah, yeah, the police. Forget it. Do you still think I can’t take care of myself, that I need the police? That I need you?”
Albert climbed out of bed and put his arms around Wisahkeczak. “You certainly took care of us.” He put his hands on her buttocks, pressing her body against his. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
She smiled. “Yes, I’m sure you will, little brother. But it’s too cold for non-Indian boys to go naked.”
“Get dressed quickly, then go warm up the car.” Wisahkeczak took the keys from the counter and handed them to Gary. “Scrape the windshield while you’re at it.”
Gary stepped outside and gasped. The air had never felt this cold, never stung so fiercely. The stars twinkled; the aurora danced merrily overhead. The engine groaned as he turned the key. The temperature was draining the battery as much as it was draining him.
The car started. Gary picked up the scraper and started to clean the windows. It would take at least ten minutes for the big V-8 engine to warm up, and Whiskey Jack, or whatever her name was, seemed anxious to get going. Gary didn’t want to test her patience. He didn’t want to think about who she was. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she was. Albert had gone from being terrified to being entranced by her. Gary was still terrified.
They headed west, back across the river. Gary didn’t say anything when they passed the same gas station, now priced at eighty-five cents a gallon. Nor did he say anything about the streetlights having changed, or the road being narrower.
The sun was starting to rise behind them, but the way ahead was still black when the pavement ended. Albert slammed on the brakes, almost throwing them off the dirt and gravel surface.
“I must have made a wrong turn somewhere.”
“Keep going. We’re almost there,” Wisahkeczak said.
Albert shifted into Park. “No, we’ve gone off the highway, onto some secondary road. I don’t know how.”
“You don’t, but I do. Keep going straight. Move it.”
Albert shifted back into Drive. “We’re—”
“Never mind. Drive. I told you to leave me alone when we first met.”
“I thought you were my friend.”
“I also told you that I’m not your friend. Gary knows that, don’t you Gary?”
Gary nodded. He had slipped his knife out of his knapsack and tucked it under his thigh. He stared at the back of Wisahkeczak’s neck. “Where are we?”
“Come on, ask the right question.”
“When are we?”
“About nineteen-twenty. It’s eighteen-fifty just up ahead. Ten minutes further and I’ll be home.”
Gary clutched the knife. No. He didn’t want to get stuck in nineteen-twenty or eighteen-fifty. And she was bringing them, it seemed, to sixteen seventy-something, when she last got laid. What then? Would she send them back to their own time?
Gary’s thoughts drifted to the night the three of them had spent coupling. Her talents were beyond exquisite. Mary had been a rag doll compared to Wisahkeczak. But at least he knew where he stood with her. When he stood with her.
The slam of the brakes brought him rudely out of his ruminations. There were scraggly spruce trees right in front of the car. There were spruce trees to either side of the car. Behind the car.
Wisahkeczak opened her door and climbed out. “Watch your step. The highway engineers will be lazy and follow a stream. It might be icy underfoot.”
There was snow under the car. There were tire tracks in the snow going back about two yards. Then there were trees. Wisahkeczak walked quickly through them, stepping lightly.
“Wait! What about us?” They stood beside the Pontiac.
She turned around, opened her coat and smiled. She had the elephant phallus again. “If you want this, you’ll have to come get it.”
He should have killed her when he had the chance.
“We have to get to Plattsburgh!” Albert yelled. “For a wedding!”
Wisahkeczak pointed her arm. “Plattsburgh will be that way. Start walking. You have a few hundred years.”
“You should have listened when I told you to leave me alone.”
“We were only trying to help.” Gary started to follow her. He sank to his thighs in snow.
“Well, you did. Thanks for the good time and the lift home. It’s too bad about the homo crap. You shouldn’t have tried to pull a fast one on me; I’m the trickster, not you. That’s another one of the old ways you should pay attention to. Goodbye, little brothers. I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me.”
She disappeared among the spruces as Gary and Albert wept.
Copyright © 2014 by Nathan Elberg