The Predators (22 page)

Stupid meant that we couldn’t speak the language. The girls approached us at each bar we went to, and seductively spoke English to us with their cute French accents, but all they could talk about was buying champagne and sex. We would all laugh as the waiter would bring a bottle of champagne and we would tell him that we wanted beer. Of course, they would bring the beer, but at champagne prices. When we ordered cigarettes they were five times the normal price of what they would charge the Frenchmen.

We went up and down the Champs-Elysées all day, and in the evening we went back to Clichy. It was then I opened the note that Carolyn had sent for Paul Renard. Fortunately, she had included the address of the Blue Note. It was 2200 hours by the time we found the club. We pulled up in front of the club and the doorman gave us a hearty English greeting and said he would park the car for us. I handed him a hundred-franc note and said I would give him more when I came back. A one hundred-franc note sounds like a lot of money, but it was only about forty dollars in American money.

Inside, I gave the maître d’ Carolyn’s note and asked him to take it to his patron. Buddy and I went to the bar and ordered two beers. A few minutes later, Paul rushed over to us with his hands outstretched. I shook his hand and told him that Buddy was Leroy’s cousin.

He seated us at a table that was close to the runway and stage. We stayed with our beers and he ordered a whiskey and soda. He was very curious about how Carolyn was getting along in the States. It was obvious that he loved her very much. It was at this time that we learned that Leroy had given him twenty-five percent of the money to buy the Blue Note and Montmartre Sophisticate. I told him how successful Carolyn was in her decorating business, and he was genuinely happy for her. I told him all about Leroy’s successful clubs and that his nightclub was the most popular in Detroit.

Paul shook his head and sighed. “Leroy is very lucky,” he said. “He is lucky that he can have gambling in his club. We could never get away with it in France. Gambling is only allowed in the casinos owned by rich Frenchmen, and run by the Greeks or the Corsicans. But I’m not complaining,” the little Frenchman said happily. “After all, I’ve never had any problem with the policemen.”

I found out later that the reason he was never bothered by the police was because several of his clients were important men of the government. He also neglected to tell us that they happened to be homosexual, like himself.

He continued to tell us the simple rules of his club. The girls in the show also hustled liquor for the clientele, but no sex was allowed with the clientele. If someone wanted more than a companion at the table, he would send them by taxi, at his expense, to the Montmartre Sophisticate, where the girls were on the turf.

“This is a petite Moulin Rouge, very high-class strippers who not only take it off but make a little scenario. To segue the stripper acts, we have clowns, jugglers, and acrobats. And we don’t charge admission for the shows like they do at the Moulin Rouge, the Lido, or the Folies Bergère. The clientele can just enjoy themselves at the table with a bottle of our champagne. Standing at the bar is a two-drink minimum. We have two shows each night, at twenty-three-hundred hours and oh-one-hundred hours. Then the club is open until oh-five-hundred for dancing.”

“I bet Leroy loves this club,” Buddy said.

“Oui. Is this similar to Leroy’s club in Detroit?” Paul asked.

Buddy started to answer, but I spoke first. “In a kind of way,” I said. “You both give your customers more than they expect.”

Paul smiled. “I would like you to see the early show. It will give me enough time to order
entrecôtes
and
pommes frites lyonnaise
for your dinner.”

I smiled. “I’m starved. Thank you very much.”

Buddy laughed. “I am hungry too, but I would still like to meet a pretty girl tonight.”

Paul smiled at him. “After you have dinner and see the show, I will have my personal chauffeur take you to meet one of my many beautiful girls at Montmartre. And you will be my guest. No charge.” He turned to me. “And you?” he asked. “Would you like to go with Buddy?”

“I’m happy here,” I said. “I’ll stay here for a while and then go back to the barracks.”

2

The day before Christmas I received a present. It was from Fat Rita and her brother, Eddie. It was a two-foot-long cardboard box, about four inches square, sealed tightly with shipping paper tape. Buddy and I stared at it. We had no idea what could be in the package.

Buddy laughed. “I think Fat Rita caught your Uncle Harry, cut his cock off, and stuffed it!”

“You’re crazy, Buddy,” I said, laughing. “Look at the label. She mailed it from California.”

“What could it be?” Buddy said.

By this time some of the other soldiers had come over to look at the package. All of them made a wild guess. Only one of them was right, a soldier who used to work at a delicatessen in Brooklyn. “A salami,” he said. “I know.”

“Why don’t you open it?” Buddy asked.

“I don’t know, maybe I should wait until Christmas Day,” I said.

“Suit yourself,” said Buddy. “It’s your gift.”

“I’ll open it for you. If it’s a salami, we can all have some,” Sammy, the deli man, said. He leaned over and smelled the package. “I can smell it through the cardboard.”

“Okay,” I said. “You know so much. Open it.”

He looked up at Buddy. “Lend me your knife.”

Buddy held the knife to him, and in only seconds Sammy had the package open. It was a kosher salami. He held it up over his head. “A genuine kosher salami!” he announced.

Buddy looked up at it. “Maybe it
was
your Uncle Harry. It’s so wrinkled.” Buddy laughed. “Anyway, it’s a hell of a Christmas present,” he said to me. “It smells up the whole barracks.”

Sammy stared at him. “You get me two dozen eggs and a half a pound of butter and I’ll make the whole barracks the greatest deli omelette you’ve ever had in your life.”

Buddy laughed. “I can get the goods for you, but you’ll have to throw in some onions with it. And I’ll get a couple of big baguettes as well.”

“I’m with you,” Sammy said. “We’ll use the stoves over at the mess hall and have one hell of a deli Christmas Eve dinner.”

I looked at both of them. “What are you guys doing? Remember, it’s my Christmas present.”

Sammy laughed as he put the salami under his arm. “This is for Hanukkah, not Christmas!” He cut off a small slice of salami and threw it to me. “Taste it. It’s like heaven. You’ll never find anything like this in France.”

I bit into it. It was as hard as a rock. I nodded to Sammy. “Make your omelette. It’s got to be better than eating it raw.”

*   *   *

The Blue Note became my second home. Paul was a good friend. Every weekend when I had a pass, I would go to a French movie. Though I didn’t understand the dialogue being spoken, I began to learn some French.

After the movie I would go to a local restaurant and practice more French as I ordered dinner. I also acquired a taste for French red wines. They were light, nothing like the Manischewitz my father used at home when I was a kid and we had a special dinner. By the time February came around, I was a regular at the Blue Note. I was able to speak a little pidgin French to the girls.

Buddy came to the Blue Note one evening. It was about 0200 hours when he suddenly appeared at my table, which was now known in the club as the “Special Americans” table. He looked exhausted. He sat down and looked at me. “Are you alone?”

I looked back at him. He could see there was no one else sitting at the table. “Yes,” I answered.

“I’m in trouble,” he said.

“What happened?”

“The colonel and I used to go to a special club and the MPs raided the place tonight. The colonel got out in time, but they nailed me.” He wiped his forehead. “I need a drink.”

I gestured to the waitress. “Double whiskey and soda for my friend.” I waited until Buddy had a chance to gulp his drink. “What kind of club were you at?”

“A sex club. Crazy, S and M, anything-goes kind of place. Whips, chains, leather. The girls were crazy. They were all drinking absinthe, which is illegal in France. And this place is strictly off-limits for American soldiers.”

“I never heard of this place. How did you get into it?” I asked.

“It was the colonel’s idea. Every time I was ready to give him his split of the winnings from the games he wanted me to meet him there. He never wanted to take the money while we were on the base.”

Buddy’s drink was empty. He motioned to the girl to give him another one.

“You’re going to be smashed,” I said.

“So what else can go wrong?” he said. “We have to make plans.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“The colonel is going to ship me out with a platoon that is going to Norway to take over the repairs garage there,” he said. He began to drink a little more slowly. “He says that this is the only way I can stay out of trouble. He says the minute the police report gets into headquarters I will wind up in the can.”

“Then what can I do about it?” I asked.

“Nothing about the transfer, but maybe you can take over the games for me. There’s a lot of money in it. I can talk to the colonel about splitting his half of the take and you can take some and you can send the rest to me.” Buddy looked at me pleadingly. “Somebody will move on it the minute I’m gone. I’d like you to take it on. After all, we’re friends.”

I laughed. “Oh, shit, Buddy. Thanks, but no thanks. I couldn’t handle that kind of action. I’d fuck it all up. Besides, once the army starts checking on you, the both of you will be fucked. The colonel is smart. He gets you out of the way, and he’ll be clear.”

“Maybe you can come with me,” he said. “I think I could talk the colonel into it. After all, I’ve done a lot of things for him.”

I shook my head. “I like it here,” I said. “I don’t want to go anywhere except home. But we can stay in touch, Buddy.”

Buddy got up out of his chair. “I’ll have to go back to the base.”

“What’s the rush?” I asked. “You’re in the shithouse already. You can’t get into any more trouble.”

“I have the old man in the car,” he said. “I’m his chauffeur. That’s the only way he could get me out of the base after the shit hit the fan.”

“Fuck it,” I said. “Bring him in. He’s safe here.”

3

The colonel moved quickly when he had something in mind, especially his ass being on the line. Buddy didn’t even have enough time to pick up his money from the crap games. In two days he was on his way to Norway.

I went to the mess hall with him the morning he left and we had coffee. “I’ll miss you, Buddy,” I said.

“We’ll manage,” he said philosophically. “This war won’t go on forever. The gossip over at the colonel’s office is that it’s goin’ to be over by May.”

“I don’t know anything,” I said. “All I know is what I read in the
Stars and Stripes
or what I see on the news-reels. As long as we’re getting those jeeps it’s still war. I just hope you’re right.”

“I want to come back here before it’s over,” he said. “I’ve seen pictures of Norway—it’s always snowing and freezing. Besides, I like the French, especially the women.” He laughed.

“I’ll be here.” I smiled and stood up. “You just take care of yourself.” Awkwardly we shook hands. It was like we had known each other too long to do that. I lit a cigarette as he left the mess hall. And I began to wonder. The world changes right around you. And it did. The very next day.

I was called into the colonel’s office the very next morning. “Cooper.” He said my name as if he had never even met me before, even though we had drunk a bottle of champagne at the Blue Note the night before. “I’ve been reading your records,” he said very authoritatively. “You have a good record and I think you can take over the job that has been vacated by the master sergeant.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I never knew what Buddy was doing besides hustling the crap games and poker tables. “What is that, sir?” I asked.

“Master sergeant, son,” he boomed. “I’m promoting you into Buddy’s rank. We need a master sergeant in this platoon. Especially since we are going to become a smaller operation. This location and setup is being returned to the French. But we have a very good location just a few blocks away from here. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that, sir?” I asked.

“You’ll have two platoons. Sergeant Felder will be under you in charge of repairs and getting the jeeps back into shape. But we have barracks only large enough for one platoon. You’ll have to find a room near our location.” He looked at me with a smile. “I’m moving over to Montmartre and I’ll be depending on you to keep our workforce in good shape.”

“Renting a room around here is pretty expensive, sir,” I said.

“I realize that.” He smiled. “I’ve cut orders so that you will be given the money to cover the necessary expenses.” He took a cigarette out. I lit it for him. It was a really fancy French cigarette, Gitane. It stank. French cigarettes always do.

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “But you do realize, sir, that I don’t know how to handle some of the other projects that Buddy was in charge of.”

“I know that, Cooper,” he said. “But there will be other opportunities that will come up.” He picked up his telephone and spoke into it. “Give Sergeant Cooper an overall pass so that he can leave the base at his discretion. Also I want a jeep assigned to him that he can use as necessary.”

I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say. This was like a gift from heaven.

The colonel looked at me. “The company clerk will cut your orders, Cooper,” he said. “I want to congratulate you on your promotion. You have done very good work and the army appreciates it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

He snapped a salute at me. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said. “You’re dismissed.”

4

Three weeks passed before we were able to move into our new garage and barracks. I still hadn’t found a place to live. The barracks we were moving into was an old building of stone and wood and the platoon was more comfortable in this barracks than the cold Quonset hut that we were in before. I stayed in the barracks until everything was settled and then I went over to the Blue Note to talk to Paul about a place to live.