Evil in Me, page 21
“We only have two songs so far.”
“Yeah, but one of them is full of magic, isn’t it?”
Ruby nodded.
“Hey, what are we calling it?”
“Evil in Me,” Ruby said.
EVIL IN ME
A man with short greased-back hair and long sideburns held open the back door of the 688 Club. “You’re late,” he said.
“Fashionably,” Tina shot back, and she wasn’t joking. Tina was wearing a long witchy skirt and a vampy vintage blouse with beaded fringe. She had on black lipstick and her dark brooding eyes were highlighted with purple eyeshadow. She’d lent Ruby a crimson tuxedo shirt and some black velvet tights, that somehow looked great with her Converse high-tops.
Tina gave the man a peck on the cheek. “How you doing, sugarplum?”
Sugarplum turned out to be Tom, the owner of the club. He smirked and shook his head. “I talked Neon Christ into letting you use their kit, so just plug in and go.”
“You’re a peach!”
“I’m a sucker, is what I am. No idea why I put up with you.”
“Because I am your Aphrodite, the siren of your soul and the goddess of all your wet dreams.”
He rolled his eyes. “Lord, please, stop. You’re scaring me.”
Tina and Ruby entered, walked through a small back room and out onto the main floor, carrying their instruments up onto the stage. The stage was only about three feet high. There was a large open space, or pit, in front and an island bar toward the back. Ruby peered out through the haze of cigarette smoke and was disappointed to find only about twenty people in the whole joint, most of them at the bar. But this disappointment was replaced by curiosity as to who these wildly dressed people were.
All of them were decked out to some degree or another, like nothing she’d ever seen in real life; people just didn’t dress that way in Enterprise, Alabama. There were a few gals wearing all black, looking like ghouls, with heavy makeup and their hair teased into witchy rat’s nests. Sitting next to them were some arty girls, with bleached, two-toned, over-moused hair, wearing groovy jewelry and bright miniskirts. A few typical punks as well, some with shaved heads, others with spiked hair and colorful mohawks. Most of them wearing torn-up jeans and combat boots. Their sleeveless jackets covered in studs and band names like G.B.H and the Exploited. A few long-haired throwbacks were over by themselves, and on the far end, a group of rockabilly kids, decked out in vintage jackets and skirts. One really cute gal had her hair spun up into a beehive that rivaled Kate Pierson’s from the B-52’s. Ruby guessed it had to be a wig, that there wasn’t enough Aqua Net in all of Atlanta to hold that in place. Then just a few other random oddballs here and there that didn’t seem to fit into any category.
The thing that surprised Ruby most was how eclectic the crowd was, a real free-for-all. It felt like you could be anything here, express yourself however you chose, and she really dug that. It was everything she’d been starved for back home. A sudden wave of sadness came over her. If only I’d come to Atlanta earlier, she thought. I could’ve been part of this.
Tina nudged her. “Wanna show you something.” She pointed over to the wall.
Every inch of the walls were covered in graffiti, but next to the stage was a song list in thick black marker.
“You recognize those songs?”
It took Ruby a minute. “Those are Iggy Pop songs.”
“Yup.”
“Wait … are you telling me Iggy played here?”
“You betcha.”
Ruby stepped over and touched the wall. “I’m on the same stage that Iggy Pop played on. Oh … my … God.”
“Yeah, and the Ramones, Dead Kennedys, Nick Cave, Fleshtones, Meat Puppets, Siouxsie and the Banshees … you want me to keep going?”
Ruby shook her head in disbelief; none of this felt real.
“Stop dicking around!” someone shouted at them, one of the rockabilly guys. “Get this show on the road.”
“Oh, lucky us,” Tina said. “That’s Gary. He can be a real prick when he gets drunk … and he’s always drunk.”
Gary sat on the edge of his stool, leering at them, a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, a pip-squeak of a fellow in a red cowboy shirt. He had lips like a fish, but certainly won the award for tallest pompadour in the house.
“Ain’t waiting on no train!”
Tina tapped the mic. “Check, check. Checking to see if Gary is still a limp dildo.”
“Hey!” Gary hollered. “Bite me!”
“Dildo status … confirmed.”
This was met with hearty chuckles all around, even Gary grinned.
Tom gave Tina a thumbs up.
“Okey doke,” Tina said to Ruby. “I think we’re ready. Time to bring in dark and gruesome.”
They’d left Vutto in the Cadillac with strict instructions not to get out until they came for him. But when they approached the car, he wasn’t there.
“Oh, fuck,” Ruby said. “Where’d he go?”
A scream came from around the side of the club. Tina and Ruby exchanged a look and sprinted in that direction.
They found Vutto with blood running down his lips, half a rat in his hand.
The scream had come from a girl, a little mohawk number looking oh-so-tough, decked out in a studded denim jacket. She didn’t look oh-so-tough at the moment though, not with a monster eating a live rat in front of her; she looked terrified. Thankfully, Vutto still had on his coat, hat, and shades, but had lost his boa, revealing his scaly skin and large creepy mouth.
Ruby ran up and grabbed Vutto by the arm, tugging him away. “Put that down,” she hissed, indicating the uneaten portion of the rat.
Vutto frowned and shoved it into his maw before she could stop him.
“Aw, gross! Yuck!” the girl cried, putting her hand over her mouth and falling back a step. “What in the hell is wrong with him?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Tina shot back, walking up to the girl. “He can’t help it. He was born that way. You know, he’s not all there upstairs.”
“Huh? What?”
“His mom took too much LSD. Now stop staring, it’s rude.”
“Oh,” the girl said, taken aback. “Oh … sorry. I didn’t know … shit, man. That’s really sad.”
Another woman walked up. She didn’t appear to belong to the 688 crowd. Older, late forties maybe, matted blonde hair, hard lines on her face, grime on her jeans and shirt. Whatever her game, she wasn’t looking at Vutto, but staring at Ruby. Ruby recognized that look.
Watch that one, Beel said from within. She smells the taint.
“Yeah, I see that,” Ruby replied, escorting Vutto back around the building. She spotted his boa on the ground, plucked it up, and wrapped it around his neck. Tina had “borrowed” a pair of scruffy boots and a green trench coat from her roommate, completing the disguise. It really wasn’t bad, so long as you didn’t look too closely. They figured, hoped, that by keeping Vutto behind the drums, they just might get away with having a full-fledged demon in their band.
They were almost to the back door when someone yelled. It was Tom, he was shouting at the blonde woman.
“Get out of here, Lucy! You got ten seconds before I call the cops. I mean it. Get!”
The woman hissed, actually hissed at him. That’s when Ruby noticed she was carrying a large screwdriver.
“You want me eat her? Yah?” Vutto asked.
“What? No. Hell no, Vutto!” Ruby snapped. “Don’t you dare. You made me a promise. Remember?”
Tina caught up with them. “Was that the woman you were telling me about?”
“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Crazy junkie. We’ve caught her breaking into cars twice now. Swear she’s psycho.”
The three of them entered the club and hopped onstage, Tina slipping her guitar strap over her head while Ruby led Vutto over to the drums. “Okay, Vutto. Like we said. Keep your head down. Got it?”
He nodded, grinning like a schoolkid.
Ruby picked up the bass and glanced out at the small crowd. Her hands were quivering, palms sweaty, mouth dry. She swallowed hard, wondering how, with her very soul at stake, she could have stage fright. But she’d never played in front of anyone other than a few friends before.
Tina strummed her guitar, getting it in tune, soliciting some curious looks. Ruby was glad to see a few more people now, hoped more would show up soon. It was still early after all.
She noticed mohawk girl sitting on a stool, sipping a beer with three friends, all looking like they shopped at the same punk rock store. They were staring at Vutto.
“You ready?” Tina asked.
Ruby shook her head. “No.”
“Hey,” Tina said. “You got this, babe. You’re voodoo. You’ve always been.”
Ruby forced herself to smile. “Thanks, Tina.”
Six preppy kids came in, gawking about like tourists, eyes wide as though they were about to be stabbed or molested at any moment. They couldn’t have been more out of place with their perfectly feathered hair and chartreuse or baby blue polo shirts, the kind with little alligators on them. A couple of them had popped up their collars, a clear signal to all that they weren’t to be messed with.
“Oh, great,” Tina said. “Fucking frat boys. We get a gaggle of ’em dropping in from time to time. It’s like some rite of passage for them, a triple dog dare, stepping into a punk club. Y’know, to prove what brave men they are.”
“Brave … huh?”
“Y’know, because us punks are so gosh darn scary. Or maybe they think being a weirdo is contagious. Anyway, just watch out, these guys never mix well.”
The frat crew wandered over to the bar and ordered beers. Gary and his rockabilly pals began smirking and sneering at them. A few of the frat guys were pretty big too, one in particular—a tanned fellow with thick, serious brows. Ruby wondered if he might be a ballplayer. He had his chest puffed out, chin cocked back, like he was just daring someone to say something to him. And of course, it didn’t take Gary long to do just that. Ruby couldn’t hear what was said, but Gary was definitely mouthing off. The big tanned guy stood up and so did Gary.
Crap, Ruby thought, knowing the last thing they needed was a brawl. “Tina! Shit, I think they’re about to start fighting.”
“I got this.” Tina said, stepping up to the mic. She tapped it. “Hey, all you odious malcontents. Listen up.”
Ruby gasped, then let out a nervous snort as everyone in the place turned and gave them a hard look.
“I’m Tina Poontang and this here’s my best friend in the whole wide world, Ruby Motherfucker.”
Tina banged the strings on her guitar, sending out a bark of reverb.
“And we’re the Night Mares.”
“You look like a nightmare,” Gary shouted back and cackled, his words slurred.
“This first song is called ‘Skank Howl.’ It’s about not giving a shit.”
“We don’t give a shit,” Gary hollered, shaking his cigarette at her. His buddies all laughed.
“Why don’t you come over here and say that,” Tina called. “You ain’t scared of a couple of little girls, are you? How about you guys?” She pointed at the frat boys. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Talking to all y’all back there. Bunch of pussies hiding behind the bar. Think we’re gonna bite? C’mon down … dare ya!”
Ruby cut Tina a nervous look, pretty sure this wasn’t the best route to get a crowd to sing your song. But Tina appeared fearless, like she was the one looking for a fight.
Gary frowned, hopped up, and headed over, followed by the rest of his pack. A moment later, most everybody else in the club did too, even the frat boys.
Ruby found all eyes on her, and decided she liked it better when they were back in the shadows.
“Shows us your tits,” Gary yelled. This was met with hoots from his inebriated pals, and grins from the frat pack. Seemed they’d found something to bond over.
“Tell you what,” Tina said, a fierce smile spreading across her face as she pointed to the guys up front. “You boys show me yours … and I’ll show you mine.”
Every guy in the pit immediately lifted their shirts up to their chins, proudly showing off their nipples.
Then, to Ruby’s horror, Tina flashed them. This was met with applause and wild howls of approval.
“Alright dipshits,” Tina snarled. “Enough fucking around. Are you ready to hear some teen angst that’ll tear your little hearts out?”
They all hefted their drinks and hooted, frat boys too, a jovial sound. They were all in now, ready for a show. Ruby just stared at Tina in awe.
“Alright, hit it,” Tina cried, tearing into a riff. Vutto joined right in, not missing a beat. Ruby, however, missed completely, then fumbled through the first few chords.
Tina looped back around to the start, like it was all part of the song. This time Ruby came in at the right point, but her fingers felt stiff and she was having trouble keeping up. Tina gave her a wink and stepped up to the mic. Ruby did the same and they started to sing. Ruby was off-key, off tempo, and kept fumbling chords.
“Shit,” she hissed as the song bumped along. She could see people losing interest and it was all on account of her, and after all Tina had done to rev them up.
Get it together, she thought. Play like your fucking soul is at stake, because it is, dammit. But knowing that seemed to only make her play worse.
People were talking in each other’s ears now, shaking their heads and drifting away.
Thankfully, the song came to an end.
Gary looked right at her, gave her a thumbs-down, and headed back to the bar along with just about everyone else.
Ruby wanted to run off the stage, probably would’ve if there wasn’t so much at stake.
“Let it go,” Tina said to her. “Everybody fumbles on their first gig. We need to play the ‘Evil in Me’ song now, right now. Before we lose everyone.”
Ruby felt sure they’d already lost everyone.
“Ready, Vutto?” Tina asked.
Vutto nodded and grinned his creepy grin.
“Ruby?”
Ruby took a deep breath and nodded.
Vutto started with a low beat, tapping his hands on the floor tom. Tina and Ruby began clapping along, then Tina switched the beat to her guitar and Ruby added her bass. Slowly the tempo rose.
Ruby swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and began to sing, trying to remember the voices of the ghosts, their spirit, trying to channel them.
She sang solo through the first verse, diving into the new lyrics.
“‘Devil on my hand, Devil in my band. Devil’s gonna take me down any way he can.
When the chorus came round, Vutto and Tina joined her.
‘Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul. Burnin’ like a demon bowl, I give you all my heart and soul.
Ruby felt a faint but familiar tingle, knew the magic, her spell, was there, waiting. She pushed into the next verse.
“‘Devil’s watchin’ me squirm, Devil’s watchin’ me burn. Devil wants me in his belly like a wiggle worm.
Tina and Vutto again joining her on the chorus, this time Vutto adding both of his voices, creating a lonesome howl.
‘Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul. Devil’s gonna let you go, I give you all my heart and soul.
They looped back to the first verse, keeping the song going, the magic growing stronger in the air.
When Ruby came round to the chorus again, someone whistled right up front and she opened her eyes.
Gary stood before the stage, nodding and clapping along, a few of his buddies with him. Several more patrons began heading over, lining back up in front, but this time it was different, there was a strange intensity in their eyes, almost a hunger as they stared at her and nodded along.
They hear it, Beel gasped from within. They feel the magic!
Ruby let go with newfound confidence, really belting out the next verse. This time when they reached the chorus, Beel joined them, adding his angelic voice to the mix. The song soared, filling the place like a bright light.
More people drifted over, the frat boys, the arty gals. They were nodding, clapping, a few even mouthing the words, but no one was singing. Ruby needed to get them to sing.
Another chorus and the last holdouts shuffled over, drinks left behind at the bar, dreamy looks on their faces.
It is working! Beel exclaimed, sounding stunned. Do not stop!
Ruby didn’t, she kept looping the song around and Beel brought in his voice below hers, adding a sweet ethereal echo to her words.
“‘Gotta gimmie all your heart and soul, gimmie all your heart and soul. Devil’s never gonna let me go, unless you give me all your heart and soul.
The chorus came around again, yet still only a few folks were singing. The crowd seemed lost in the song, but it was as though they were waiting for something.
“Okay,” Ruby called, keeping her voice low and seductive, talking like a beat poet, while Tina and Vutto kept playing. “Okay, everybody, listen up now. I need your help, need your mojo. Because, see, this ain’t just another pretty song. The Devil really has got hold of me … and the only way to set me free is for y’all to sing along. So, let’s hear it. C’mon, give me your sweet mojo. Put your heart and soul into it. Set me free, baby!”
She shot right back into the first verse and this time, when the chorus came round, Gary began singing, loud and bold. His buddies joined him, the frat boys too.
‘Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul. Burnin’ like a demon bowl, I give you all my heart and soul.
Yes! Ruby thought as chills rolled up her arms. Jesus, please.
The chorus again, and this time, they all joined in, every one of them, even the bartender. They were hers—smiling, nodding, clapping, and swaying to the beat.
‘Gonna give you all my heart and soul, give you all my heart and soul. Devil’s gonna let you go, I give you all my heart and soul.”
