Lockram, one-time manager of the Luxor, give him a guided tour of the building that had devoured Mariah Lee.
***
”Where's Mom?”
Emerson padded out of the house to block her way as Robyn headed to the patio at the rear. Mom all but camped out there with Minute Maids and a stack of novels when the sun shone.
”Never mind your mother, Robyn. We have important matters to discuss.”
Sunday. And Emerson stood there in a gray business suit and striped tie.
Through the thin hair weave, his bald head shone glossy as an egg in the sunlight. Robyn blinked at him. She had the most important news a daughter could share with a mother, and yet Emerson blocked the path that ran through the gap in the hedge. This she didn't need. God, she had to see her mother now while she had the courage to get the words through her lips. Mom. I'm pregnant. Now Emerson stopped her.
”Emerson, I've got to see Mom. I need to speak with her: ”Later”
”No, I need to-”
”Robyn, listen to me. You've lived at my expense for the last three years. I haven't complained. I'm not complaining now”
”At your expense? This is my mothers house.”Her stomach fluttered. Those weird spasms were coming. Jesus, it was like a war being fought in that area between her hips. Did all women get these sensations when they were pregnant?
I feel so weird. Lightheaded. I need to sit down.
But all Emerson did was block her path while jabbering away about family responsibilities. He pointed his finger at her like it was a gun. Jeez, what was wrong with the man? Come to that, what's wrong with me? I feel so hot I could explode. My stomach's really hurting. This wasn't pregnancy, this was torture.
”So, Robyn, what's your answer?”
Dear God, what was the question? Robyn's head swirled. The sun blazed into her eyes. At the edge of her vision green streaks flowed by as her eyes blurred. Emerson's face loomed at her, swollen-looking, angry. Even the man's eyes bulged.
”Don't be evasive, Robyn. I've run my own company for twenty years. I know when people are shitting me.”
”I'm not shitting you.”
”Give me an answer then. Will you permit your mother to liquidate your trust fund?”
”That money's mine. Dad left it for me.”
”Robyn. We are going to be homeless. Understand that, you silly selfish child. For your mother's sake allow me to invest that money for you, so this family can live as it has always done. In comfort… with dignity Robyn nearly lost her balance as vertigo took hold. ”No. It's not yours.
My father left me that money when-”
She didn't get any further. Emerson's full-blooded slap drove her back against the wall of the house. Standing there, gasping, her hand held to her cheek, she stared at Emerson in horror. The look of fury in his eyes told her he was going to strike her again. She even saw him bunch his fists and take a pace forward. Then, at the last moment, he slammed his fist down against the side of his leg and walked back into the house.
***
”My name is Benjamin Isiah Lockram. I am eighty-four years old. For the last half of a century I have been the owner and manager of the Luxor Dance Hall. Seventy years ago I walked through those doors back there… through the turnstile and onto the dance floor where I'm standing now.
That's when the Luxor stole my heart. The look of the building, the sounds, smells, the feel of the place fascinated me. Obsessed me might be a more apt description. It's still got my heart. I'll never leave…”
Alone in the gloomy living room, Benedict West watched the video. It had been recorded back in 1979, according to the date on the cassette label.
He knew it by heart, he'd seen it so many times. Why had the owner of the dance hall gone to the trouble of
***
”Where's Mom?”
Emerson padded out of the house to block her way as Robyn headed to the patio at the rear. Mom all but camped out there with Minute Maids and a stack of novels when the sun shone.
”Never mind your mother, Robyn. We have important matters to discuss.”
Sunday. And Emerson stood there in a gray business suit and striped tie.
Through the thin hair weave, his bald head shone glossy as an egg in the sunlight. Robyn blinked at him. She had the most important news a daughter could share with a mother, and yet Emerson blocked the path that ran through the gap in the hedge. This she didn't need. God, she had to see her mother now while she had the courage to get the words through her lips. Mom. I'm pregnant. Now Emerson stopped her.
”Emerson, I've got to see Mom. I need to speak with her: ”Later”
”No, I need to-”
”Robyn, listen to me. You've lived at my expense for the last three years. I haven't complained. I'm not complaining now”
”At your expense? This is my mothers house.”Her stomach fluttered. Those weird spasms were coming. Jesus, it was like a war being fought in that area between her hips. Did all women get these sensations when they were pregnant?
I feel so weird. Lightheaded. I need to sit down.
But all Emerson did was block her path while jabbering away about family responsibilities. He pointed his finger at her like it was a gun. Jeez, what was wrong with the man? Come to that, what's wrong with me? I feel so hot I could explode. My stomach's really hurting. This wasn't pregnancy, this was torture.
”So, Robyn, what's your answer?”
Dear God, what was the question? Robyn's head swirled. The sun blazed into her eyes. At the edge of her vision green streaks flowed by as her eyes blurred. Emerson's face loomed at her, swollen-looking, angry. Even the man's eyes bulged.
”Don't be evasive, Robyn. I've run my own company for twenty years. I know when people are shitting me.”
”I'm not shitting you.”
”Give me an answer then. Will you permit your mother to liquidate your trust fund?”
”That money's mine. Dad left it for me.”
”Robyn. We are going to be homeless. Understand that, you silly selfish child. For your mother's sake allow me to invest that money for you, so this family can live as it has always done. In comfort… with dignity Robyn nearly lost her balance as vertigo took hold. ”No. It's not yours.
My father left me that money when-”
She didn't get any further. Emerson's full-blooded slap drove her back against the wall of the house. Standing there, gasping, her hand held to her cheek, she stared at Emerson in horror. The look of fury in his eyes told her he was going to strike her again. She even saw him bunch his fists and take a pace forward. Then, at the last moment, he slammed his fist down against the side of his leg and walked back into the house.
***
”My name is Benjamin Isiah Lockram. I am eighty-four years old. For the last half of a century I have been the owner and manager of the Luxor Dance Hall. Seventy years ago I walked through those doors back there… through the turnstile and onto the dance floor where I'm standing now.
That's when the Luxor stole my heart. The look of the building, the sounds, smells, the feel of the place fascinated me. Obsessed me might be a more apt description. It's still got my heart. I'll never leave…”
Alone in the gloomy living room, Benedict West watched the video. It had been recorded back in 1979, according to the date on the cassette label.
He knew it by heart, he'd seen it so many times. Why had the owner of the dance hall gone to the trouble of
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