They came rolling out of a nightclub, six of them, laughing and carousing in a drunken heap of pointless celebration, just to be out and done with the week’s college studies. The avenue was nearly empty of people at that late hour, and they were proud to have closed yet another bar, on another Friday, with plans to close even more as the semester continued. Their freedom from home fed their energy, and as the youngest among them had just turned twenty-one, their need to debauch was heightened, leaving them a stumbling mass. They made it as far as the end of the block, to regroup in front of a closed storefront and take stock of the one’s in their arms.
One couple was deep into each other’s mouths when one suddenly pulled away from the other. “I’m gonna throw up” said Clair as she turned away. A buxom blond who knew it, as her attire was designed to accent her assets.
Jeff and Marleen, standing next to them, heard this and laughed. “Dude,” said Jeff, “maybe you should try a mouthwash.” They started dating once Marleen discovered Jeff was in one of her classes, and she planned on using his infatuation with her to fix some of her papers.
“Shut up” said Victor as he tried, drunkenly, to hold Clair’s hair, and keep her pointed away from him. At twenty-five he was the oldest of the group, and also the tallest at 6’3”. This and his athletic build made him the unofficial leader of the group.
Meanwhile Finch, the youngest of the group, was trying hard to grope his way over Gillian’s body in a desperate attempt to get to second base. Gillian had turned from his kisses to see what the commotion was, and said “Hey Victor, be a gentleman for once and hold her hair.”
“That’s what I’m doin’” he said. “I just don’t want it to get on my shoes.”
Finch pulled Gillian closer to the storefront to escape the streetlights. She relented, more out of drunkenness than desire. She had plans, plans that she kept to herself for fear that one or more of the others might want to “ride her coattails”. Jeff and Marleen continued to watch the show that Victor and Clair were putting on. Clair was hunched over, hands on her knees, ready to let loose of the bile down her throat. Which is why she was the first one to notice them.
Two girls, arm in arm, had just crossed the intersection and were headed their way. They were engrossed in their conversation as they walked, as they seemed out for an evening stroll. They both wore high-waisted, knee length, full black skirts that flowed as they walked. The one on the left had a certain tinge to her skin, almost bluish, but Clair figured it was the late hour, the dark, and the street lights. She wore high-heeled calf-high boots, the kind Clair would kill for, with gartered stockings, sleeved finger gloves, and a crimson-colored sports bra. It wasn’t cold out, but a bra? Even a sports bra? Well, She guessed it was okay. Perhaps she should try that one day.
The other had fairer skin, with a rich, full head of blonde hair tied up in a pony tail that reached her waist, as opposed to her friend who’s short, dark hair barely reached her shoulders. She wore a crimson-colored crop top with sheer sleeves, striped thigh high stockings and sensible shoes, of all things. She even wore a choker around her neck, or what Clair could make out to be a choker. She couldn’t quite understand their sense of style, as it was on a different level. Above her, beneath her? She couldn’t decide, only that it caught her attention so much that she forgot to throw up. No, they caught her attention as they were both beautiful and luscious, sensual and very appealing.
They were about to pass them when an errant wind showed her something she couldn’t believe, and in her drunken state, blurted out “Are you wearing bloomers?”
The fair skinned girl shrieked and grabbed her dress in an attempt to hide her shame. The others stopped to stare, except for Finch who was still trying to get the most from Gillian. She had turned her face to see what the commotion was, sliding her cheek against Finch’s lips. “Wha’s goin’ on” he said, finally drawn into events.
“I can’t believe it” Clair said loudly. “Here I am, thinking you two are somethin’, and you’re wearing bloomers.”
“Hey” said the dark haired one, “it’s not nice to make fun of a lady’s undergarments.” She had a strong yet seductive voice, sultry in it’s undertones.
Jeff couldn’t let that pass. “Did you say ‘undergarments’? What are we, back in the stone age?” Marleen and Clair laughed, Victor chuckled, Finch was still trying to figure out what was happening, and Gillian only smiled, a little embarrassed of her friend’s insensitivity.
“No, really,” said Clair, “this is twenty-twenty six. Why are you wearing something that belongs on grandma?”
“Can you imagine?” Said Victor. “Seeing grandma’s bloomers.”
A collective “Eeewwww” came from Clair, Jeff, Marleen, and finally Finch, who somehow got his sex crave in check. But not by much.
“Face it girl,” said Clair, “those are from a different era.”
The fair skinned one said “I am from a different era.” Her voice was sweet, soft, full of innocence and honesty. It made Finch stop in his advances to Gillian and pay attention. Clair, on the other hand, was surprised. Her impression on them changed, in a bad way.
“I bet you are” said Jeff. He was totally enjoying this, the liquor inside him giving him the added boost for making fun.
“Oh my gosh,” Claire said sweetly. “You’re just so cute. No wonder you wear bloomers. What are you, five? Are you sure you should be outside at night?” She laughed, causing the rest of them to laugh. “And is this your nanny, taking you home for being out so late? Is she going to punish you?” They laughed more, including Finch, who was still not sure what was going on. Gillian on the other hand was becoming increasingly embarrassed at her friend’s boldness, and at Jeff and Marissa for joining in.
“Girl’s” said Claire, “maybe you should catch up with the rest of the world, maybe get some thong panties.”
“I have thong panties” said the fair skinned one. This announcement had the effect of sending them all into rolling hysterics.
As they laughed the lights from a passing car briefly lit the scene, giving more details on the two skirted women. Clair missed what she should have seen, that the dark-haired one had gotten still and silent, staring at Claire with the coldness of an iceberg. She also missed something else, but we’ll come back to that. Instead, Claire caught something else.
“Oh snap, the other one’s got a snaggle tooth!”
“What?” Said Victor. This was echoed by Jeff and Marissa. Finch said
Huh?” Gillian just watched.
“A snaggle tooth” said Claire, making the mistake of stepping closer to the two. “You know, when one of your teeth are longer than the rest so it sticks out of your mouth.” They seemed perplexed, but leaned in for a closer look.
“Oh, yeah” said Victor. “Why do they call it a snaggle tooth?”
Gillian piped in. “That was the name of an old cartoon character, Snaggletooth. He was a puma I think, And he had a tooth that stuck up from his jaw.”
“That’s my girl” said Finch, finding her neck to be just the right snack. This made Gillian giggle and turn her head toward him playfully.
Meanwhile the two girls stared at them, one wondering where this was going next, the other planning something wicked.
Claire couldn’t let it go. “But wait, her’s is sticking down. And there’s two of them!” This she practically yelled.
The dark haired one spoke, in a cool, seductive, chilling way that Claire still wasn’t picking up on. “Wendy told you that we’re from a different era. We did things differently then.”
“What are you, grandmas?” Claire’s laughter was loud, which, along with her joke, encouraged more laughter from behind her.
The dark haired one waited, while The fair-skinned one, Wendy looked to her, and said with worry, “Cheryl”.
It was too little and too late, for Cheryl had decided to make this girl regret her ways. “Yes, perhaps we are. We did things differently then, things like dancing. Here, let me show you.” She stepped up to Claire and grasped her firmly around the waist with her left arm and took her by the hand. “It’s called a waltz, and it goes like this.” She began to hum out a waltz, taking a very surprised Claire for a turn, slowly at first. “Da, da da da, daaaa…”
“Wha, what’s going on?” Claire wasn’t sure how she should take this, but that arm around her waist was firm, pressing into her back with a surprising amount of strength that she could in no way resist.
“Relax” said Cheryl, “this’ll be fun. Da, da da da, daaa…” one two three, one two three, keeping the rhythm as she turned and twirled Claire, leading her with no effort, looking into her eyes like a lover, twirling and twirling. They began to move down the sidewalk, with the twirls getting tighter and faster. She led Claire to one side of the sidewalk, then the other, each twirl going from left to right, getting faster and faster, left then right. The humming got louder as she twirled more and more, moving now at a speed that was getting cartoonish. The others watched as they twirled, first near the curb, suddenly to the wall, and further and further down the sidewalk. Claire began to get excited as her mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Left and right, right and left, and always that little pause before the next twirl.
Cheryl began to laugh as suddenly, on their final approach to the building beside them, they disappeared.
