The Love Club

Chapter Four

    

You reach Todd's bar just after midday. The sun is at its peak, hanging above you like a warm blanket of comfort as you ride past the busy boardwalk on your pink coloured bicycle, mindlessly playing with a loose fray sticking out of your basket as you look for the narrow entrance to The Cove which Sally had told you about.

And there it is, just beyond a palm tree ahead. The narrow pathway shrouded by overgrown plants. You would almost miss it if you weren't looking for it and that is the moment you realise The Cove serves a specific sort of clientele. A small colourful sort of shack sat just beyond the corner. Intimately tucked away from the busy boardwalk, it seems only local surfers and rock and roll hippies hang around its doors. It is what Sally would call a 'groovy' sort of place. The wood painted a mint green and weather beaten with years old sea breeze and sun rays. Two tall palm trees stood at either side of The Cove, curving to a point at the top and shading the picnic benches below where a few thirsty surfers sat lounging, reenergising themselves before heading back out into the water. The door was coloured yellow, and a small chalk sign swung from the door handle reading, 'No fuzz aloud.'

Todd meets you at the door and the first thing you see is his pearly whites grinning back at you. Rough around the edges and crooked nosed, you did not think him to be the most handsome man, but God did he have a good smile. That's the kind of smile that gets you into trouble, you thought.

"I'm Todd," He greets you with an extended hand. "Sally's told me all about you."

"Oh no -." You blush, the words escaping from your lips before you can stop them.

Todd laughs, throwing his head back and letting out a throaty chuckle. "Only good things don't worry."

He leads you through the bar towards the back and your eyes roam over the interior. There is an obvious charm about the place and it's bustling with life. Paintings mimicking the surf outside are splashed on top of tabletops and one in specific catches your eye. Stormy plumes of navy and grey portray unruly waves which storm forward like warriors charging to war, while a lone surfer stands at the shores edge gazing out at the magnificently disastrous act of nature. You scan the edges for a signature but fail to find one. It seems the unnamed artist has studied the surf in a way you have never seen before. Capturing the oceans brilliant destruction as if they have lived inside of the painting, basking in all of mother nature's glory. A perfect snapshot of their memory preserved in the most intimate form. Art.

Todd's eyes follow your fingertips tracing the rough surface of the table and he clears his throat to catch your attention. "My friend painted 'em."

"They're incredible." You breathe, looking around admiring each painting, different to the last.

"Yeah, he's pretty talented but I don't like t'tell him that too often. Don't wanna honk his horn too loud, y'know?"

You spend the rest of the day clearing off tables and picking up glasses.

"I'll start you out nice n'easy," grins Todd, "and then we'll get you trained up on the hard stuff. You'll be pouring folks a brew in no time."

You weave around tables of happy customers trailing sand indoors and drinking their honey-coloured fix while they seek a short refugee from the summer sun. The Beatles hit 'Get Back' crackles over the transistor radio, and you hum to yourself, tray full of empty glasses rattling at your side as you make your way behind the bar. You close your eyes briefly enjoying how the guitar riff sounds travelling underneath the chatter of the bar and a memory of you tucked away in your bedroom reading John Steinback's 'East of Eden' while The Beatles 'Day Tripper' echoes down the hallway from the turntable as Sally dances around the living room with her boyfriend, both drunk on margaritas. It was the first time you had heard rock and roll and the way the tambourine shook your senses changed you forever. It was like you had finally woke up from a long sleep and you felt alive.

A friendly hand rests on your shoulder and jolts you from your nostalgia. "You can take your break now if you'd like."

You creak the back door open which leads to a small garden. A secluded area where avocado grass grew in every inch and a large hedge circled the outskirts, shading a patch of grass from the Malibu sun. Daisy's sprout from between blades of grass and you sit down, happily unpacking your lunch and enjoying how the warm earth feels beneath you. Licking your lips, you lean forward to take a bite of your sandwich when a shiny brown retriever comes bounding towards you across the grass from a short wooden gate you had failed to notice, wedged between a space in the hedge. The dog came bouncing towards you, a distinctive red bandana tied around his neck, tongue happily flapping around in his mouth and before you knew it, he had knocked over your lemonade in his excitement, soaking your dress.

Gasping, you jump to your feet looking down at your sundress now clinging to your thighs.

"You're lucky you're cute." You lean down to pet the Labrador now hunched over and gobbling down your sandwich, tail wagging happily behind him.

"Frank!" You hear a man call from behind the hedge, only to emerge a moment later, his shirt floating behind him in the sea breeze like a cloud of apricot. "There you are," he grins as the dog runs towards him, "Sorry he usually doesn't run off like that."

"Russell."

"Oh, it's you."

You watch his distaste for you wash over him.

"Sorry about your dress," He mumbles after a long stretch of silence. His eyes betray him, and he glances down to watch how the sheer fabric of your dress hugs your thigh like a second skin. Russell swore to himself if he looked hard enough, he could see the outline of your underwear. "Must've been a groovy sandwich."

"It would have been if your dog hadn't eaten it," you huff, folding your arms across your chest and look down at the pitiful remains of your sandwich.

"Mind cutin' your break short? It's gettin' busy in here." Todd calls from the back door.

"Sure," You glance over your shoulder, nodding your head and ignoring the rumbling of your stomach.

"You work here?" Russell asks you, glancing past you to Todd's retreating figure and then to your hands which are delicately smoothing out your dress.

You breath out a puff of annoyance through your nostrils. "If you must know, yes. Now excuse me, I have to get back to work."

"What's a chick like you doin' workin' in a place like this, hmm? Didn't think they let Melvin's in."

"Don't call me that."

"Lemme guess," He teases, holding a hand stretched out to stop you from heading back inside and speaks in a loud, theatrical sort of way which you're sure he does on purpose so that everyone inside can hear. "You're a struggling' actress who moved to the big city, and you got this gig to make a bit of dough until you finally make it big."

Your cheeks redden.

"Holyshit!" He throws his head back in laughter at your obvious embarrassment. "I'm right, aren't I."

"Screw you." You spit out at him, shoving past to make your way back inside.

Russell jogs forward, grinning and shrugs his shoulders. "Nothin' wrong with it," he continues, enjoying the way it feels to tease you, "just thought you'd be a little more interesting, that's all."

You storm into the bar shutting the door in his face, and you lean against the wood for a moment pinching your eyes shut to create some sort of barrier between you and Russell. His words ring in your ear, haunting you. And you can feel your insecurities begin to creep up the length of your throat, suffocating you. But instead of listening to that voice in your head, which you often did, you make an effort to hush it before it has the time to confirm your biggest fears. That maybe you have made a mistake by running away from home. Sometimes you feel your life would have turned out a whole lot easier if you had just chosen the path which was laid out for you, instead of chasing what you love.