come on,” she said. She began caressing his groin and said, “I can just feel it.”
Nestor turned toward her for the first time—and gave her a look. “I said no thanks, which means no thanks.”
The Cop Look. “Ninotchka” withdrew her hand and didn’t dare utter another sound. Nestor immediately returned to his vigil. He looked toward the far wall, where he and John Smith had entered the club… All at once—an electrical lurch in his heartbeat. ::::::Jesus Christ! There he is in the back, by the bar… the guy in the black shirt… I swear to God that’s gotta be him… He’s got a girl on his arm, literally on his arm… looks like a proper Sunday promenade except she’s a half-dressed stripper, and right over there is the door!::::::
Nestor spun about on the seat of his jacked-up chair and sprang to the floor. “Ninotchka” was so frightened, she threw her body backward and hit “Belinka,” who was leaning over John Smith’s thigh. Bam! Both girls landed on their backs on the floor with their feet in the air. John Smith sat petrified upon his high chair. He stared at Nestor, with his jaw dropped.
“I see the guy!” said Nestor. “Heading for that door! Come on!” he said over his shoulder to John Smith and got blip a glimpse of him… sitting straight up on the bar chair—frozen stiff. Furniture Land. ::::::Gotta run!:::::: But in the sofa sea of Furniture Land… too much fat upholstered furniture arranged too helter-skelter… too many men with their legs sprawling out as they lounged back in the upholstered billows… too many whores with their rear ends sticking out because they were standing with their heads bent down over the customers… too many little coffee tables clogging up the floor space that was left… his only hope was to hurdle over men’s legs… veer around the whores’ tails… leap over coffee tables… bango!… he was off…
The men sunk in their plush billows—they’re startled… they’re insulted… they’re furious—and they’re not the most genteel crowd in Miami-Dade County, either!—black shirt, hairy chest!… Nestor turns his head for a split second—::::::It’s him!—I’m sure! I know that’s Igor! Igor with almost no mustache!:::::: Some almost-dressed whore has him by the arm! They’re walking around Furniture Land to the rear where he and John Smith started out!… They’re heading for the door!
Getting to the door before Igor suddenly became as urgent a problem as he had ever faced in his life. In the instant before he turned his head forward again, he sped up—Jesus Christ!… He was going to crash into them!… three men and two whores facing one another across a coffee table… no room, no way to stop in time… Only thing possible—he hurdled across the coffee table… brushed a whore on this side and a big tub on that side… “FOOKIN’ EHHOLE!” It’s the tub… ::::::Where’s he from!… He’s old, but he’s got a hell of a voice!::::::
… “FAGGOT!”… It’s one of the whores…
“PIECE A SHIT!”… Another man… high on lust…
… Now they’re all on their feet yelling… “PUNK!”… “SHITBALL!”…
Sky-high on adrenaline, the springing leaping punk ::::::How could they call me that?!:::::: makes it to the other side of Furniture Land… That door is—what?—ten yards away… Oh, shit—a bouncer… and he’s left the door… he’s coming straight at me… he’s a mile wide… big flat face like a Samoan… No way can I get around him… the Cop Look?! The brute is right in front of him, blocking his way—
“What’s the big hurry, Big Boy?” Guy had the voice all right.
The Cop Look? Nestor had about half a second to decide—bango!—this one’s a hard case! Not a chance! Could be an off-duty cop moonlighting… Before his decision could even take the form of words in his brain, he turned the real Nestor Camacho inside out. He twisted his body into a cringe and pointed toward the ruckus in Furniture Land… In a high-pitched voice, agonized, shaky, frightened, “They’re killing each other in there! They’ve gone crazy! Coulda got myself killed!”
The big bouncer eyed Nestor. He didn’t necessarily believe him—but the commotion in Furniture Land was a bigger problem… Cries of “NO MO’ THIS SHIT,” “OH, NO, YOU DON’T!”… “GEDDIM!”… “YOU SKINNY FUCK!”… So many cries, they drowned out one another… All this commotion. “You stay right here!” he told Nestor. He kept jabbing his finger at the floor where Nestor stood. “You don’t move!” And then he went rocking into the ruckus with a big gorilla stride…