“Ok, Daddy, I’ve got it,” I said as I climbed onto the
stool behind the bar he had set up at the
front entrance of the Oasis. This was usually the spot reserved for one
of Daddy’s friends, Eli Saleeby, who had the flu. In what I think was complete
desperation on my Father’s part, Eli’s job became my job one night. Eli
and his wife Mary were two of my favorite people in the whole world. They would
come by the house almost every Sunday afternoon to take me for a ride to get
ice cream. They didn’t have any children and I think that they really
enjoyed the time that they spent with all five of what my mother referred to as
the “Jennings Tribe.” Eli, a short man, walked with a limp and looked
extremely odd beside his wife Mary who towered over him. Her hair that
was always piled on top of her head was fire engine red and she had a
personality to match. Mary was as loud as Eli was quiet. And she called
everybody “Dahling” and waved her hands the whole time she was talking to
you. You just couldn’t help but love her.
Mother wasn’t at all pleased about me going out to the
club to work, however, she knew that Daddy did need someone to take Eli’s place
and reluctantly allowed me to go. “Just stay out of the back room,” she
instructed. I had to laugh to myself wondering where the “back room” was
this week. Daddy changed the interior of the club around every few months
moving walls or building new ones depending on his mood. Sometimes I
think he just enjoyed having people around during the day that he could yell
at. The construction workers didn’t seem to mind as Daddy always paid
them in cash and fed them almost the entire time that they were working.
God, how my Daddy loved to cook. His favorite was baked ham and
today I can close my eyes and smell that ham as if it were right in front of
me. Years later some of these same guys (that ate a lot of ham) would say that
had it not been for my Daddy they would have had a hard time providing for
their own families during the winter.
Of course this was
years before the season in Myrtle Beach stopped being a June to August
make-it-or-break-it period. Now there is no change in seasons just a
change in the type of tourist dollar-of-the-month. If it’s not golfers
then its sun worshipers or tour buses, or Christmas pottery shoppers. As
a child I judged the seasons by the Massre family. They went to Florida every winter and returned in the
late spring to prepare their beach shops for the summer season. You knew
the summer was quickly approaching when the Massre boys showed back up in
school. The Oasis Club was a
school in itself. I am sure that if I had spent more time there I would
have learned as much about business as I learned in my years of college and
twenty five years of running my own company. I had been in the back
room a million times of course when no one was in there playing cards but God
forbid that I would walk in there during business hours. “Do you
understand me?” Mother asked getting right up in my face as if I would not lie
to her directly.“Yes, I understand
you,“ I said as I was searching the closet to find something that made me look
more like I was 21 than 20. Maybe the black jumpsuit with the red blouse
would do, I thought as I hurriedly tied my long hair up. There, I
thought......looks like I’m 22 at the very least.
“That will be one dollar each,” I stated as the three men
came through the double glass doors.
“We are with...”, he tried
to say while smiling and holding out his wallet to show me something but I had
cut him short.
“I don’t care who you are with,” I boldly stated.
“Cooter says you have to pay the $1.00 admission to get in and if you have a
problem with that then you can go see him.” To my surprise all three of
the men reached in their wallets and pulled out one dollar each. It was
only then that I smiled and opened the main door to the club as if I were some
grand hostess. Well, I thought to myself, my Daddy will be proud of
me.
If only Daddy had warned me about a possible raid and
Eli’s secret button under the bar. Surely he didn’t expect to have any
trouble that night....usually there was some warning...like a phone call from a
“friend.”
“Why the hell did you let them in?” he yelled with such
power that I actually found myself backing up away from him.
“Well, Daddy, I got their dollars,” I coolly answered as
if that could possibly be some satisfaction to him. “How was I suppose to
recognize an ABC man from a regular customer?” I asked.
“Just go home, Baby,” he said in the calmest of voices.
Baby...that’s what he called everyone. I don’t think
he meant it so much affectionately as it was a substitute for not remembering
your name. Half of the time he called me by my sister’s name,
Sandra. But then he didn’t really call her Sandra...it was more like
Sander. Reminded me of how people would say Miamer instead of Miami.
Sometimes he drove me
crazy with his yo yo moods. Later we learned he was a diabetic that
accounted for the ups and downs. But that particular night I just thought
he was real sad. There would be other nights that I would work the front
door and my only regret was that I never did have another chance to push Eli’s
secret button.
copyright 2015, Darlene Jennings
