The Full Moon Speakeasy

Chapter One: Finding Thelma

Moving to the big city was supposed to be their thing. 

Lucille and Thelma, together, were going to make it big. Thelma longed to be an actress, and Luci… well, she was a lost soul. She didn’t really have any purpose or drive, but she knew that the small town of Appleby couldn’t hold her forever. She had big, fabulous dreams; the dreams just happened to be hazy and out of focus for right now. 

Moving to New Borough wasn’t meant to be like this, however. 

The girls’ had managed to score a small one bedroom apartment of their own, having used every last nickel and dime they scrounged together for years and years to pay for six months of rent up front. They had six months to make it on their own, or fall flat on their asses. Within just a week of being in the city, Lucille and Thelma found jobs together at a local cafe. The hours were long and made their feet sore, but the money was decent. They often treated themselves to nights out on the town, foods from countries they had never even heard of, and, of course, tickets to the playhouse. 

That was until Thelma went out one night alone and found Emil Accetta. She returned home in a blissful glee, spouting out about newfound love and how addicted she already felt to him. Luci was happy for her best friend, of course. But Emil remained mysterious. There weren't many details that Thelma would offer up about him, and she wouldn’t even invite Luci along to his club. And to make it all worse, Thelma quit her job to work with Emil after just weeks of knowing him, and hadn’t been home in nearly a week. 

Enough was enough. Luci was going to find her friend once and for all. 

Adorning only her wool coat and hat for warmth against the howls of winter, Lucille stormed out of their apartment. It was snowing, but that didn’t stop her. She had found the name of that godforsaken club on a check in Thelma’s dresser, and she was going right to the source. Granted, she knew that she would have to answer for snooping through Thelma’s things– but right then, that didn’t matter to her. She just needed to confront her friend and make sure she was even alive!

Walking through the Borough should have made Luci nervous; after all, it was filled with shadows, creepy men, and criminals. But it had never so much as crossed her mind to consider her safety. Luci had always felt invincible when she was with Thelma. They were a dynamic duo, completely inseparable from one another since they were old enough to walk. Right then, Luci couldn’t be sure if her Thelma was safe– so she would be brave enough for the both of them. 

She had to march six blocks north and two blocks west to find the club. Her entire body was shivering violently before she stopped outside of the address. It was just a door; a big, green, metal door. There wasn’t any sign, no people loitering outside, no indication that walking in there would land her in the right place. But, it was a speakeasy. That was how they were supposed to be. In all their nights of roaming the Borough, Luci hadn’t ever been to one. She supposed there wasn’t any better way to make her debut than to make a scene. 

Taking a deep breath, Luci moved toward the door. Just before she could reach it, a couple approached first. A small window opened and a pair of eyes stared down at the couple. “What can I do for you?” he questioned, his voice gruff and deep. 

“Our jalopy broke down. Might we drop a dime?” the man asked. 

Their car broke down and just need a phone? What if this isn’t the speakeasy?

The window on the door slammed shut, and there was a rustling of locks. Then, the door opened just enough for the couple to slip in. She remembered the rumor of passwords to get into such clubs. Maybe that had been the password? She figured it was worth a shot, as it was the only thing she could think of.

Luci mustered all her courage to approach the door as well. Giving three little knocks, she moved back and looked to the outline of the window. Sure enough, the eyes appeared again. “What can I do for you?” the man asked. 

“My… jalopy broke down. Might I drop a dime?” she replied, repeating it as closely as she could. 

Once again, the window slammed shut, the rustling of locks, and then the door cracked open. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Luci stepped through. The man, who proved to be well over six feet tall, was barrel chested and as gruff in appearance as his voice was. He looked rather annoyed by her staring at him, but she didn’t know what else to do. They were stood in a dark room, a single lightbulb acting as the only source of light. 

“First time?” he huffed. She nodded. He lifted a hand and pointed down one of two entryways. “Down the hall. Last door.”

“Thank you,” Luci muttered and scurried away. Men didn’t typically make her nervous, but the man had such a strange aura to him, though she couldn’t put into words why she thought that. Heading down the nearly pitch black hallway, she could hear the distant thumping of music. Her pulse sped up. Had she been right? Had she found the speakeasy? 

Opening the door, she found the answer to be yes. 

The club was so glamorous! A jazz ensemble played fantastically on the stage, a woman leading with vocals in some bluesy song Lucille had never heard. The stupendous band was backlit by a larger than life neon sign that read: The Full Moon. The light was orange tinted and luminous. The room smelled of cigars, liquor, and expensive perfume– ones that she and Thelma had only ever smelled in department stores. Shutting the door behind her, she inched into the room. She was horrifically underdressed to even be standing in there. There she was in a plain dress and wool coat, while every other woman was dripping with ritzy beads, short skirts, and fur. 

It was almost overwhelming. She knew she could quickly get lost in simply people watching, and not to mention a couple of drinks. Luci had only ever had a couple of sips of wine during communion, a couple of swigs of brandy from a bottle Thelma had stolen from her dad– and admittedly, a flask of moonshine she found in the apartment after Thelma started hanging around Emil. 

Get your head on straight, Luci. We are here for Thelma. Not to drink. 

Squaring her shoulders to not appear as the overwhelmed and freezing five-foot-five young lady she really was; though, it was a moot effort, considering snow was still peppered all over her. Marching her way through the club as though she owned the place, Lucille scanned about for her best friend. 

It only took a few minutes before she locked eyes with Thelma from across the room. She looked so… surreal. Her gorgeous blonde hair was shaped in elegant, bouncy finger waves, her eyes expertly shaded with black shadow, and lips painted a dark red. She too, was dressed in a fine beaded dress. It was short, golden, and hugged her every curve. Thelma looked like the starlet she had always talked about being. 

If she’s alright, why hasn’t she been home? 

As Lucille started toward her, Thelma looked to the man next to her. There was an exchange of words, and then the man’s face turned. He put an arm out, blocking Thelma from moving. Lucille’s brow creased, but she kept forward. When she approached, the man held his ground and only glared at her. 

“Who let you in?” the guy asked– no, demanded. 

“The guy at the door, obviously,” Lucille scoffed. “Who gave you the authority to hold back my friend?” 

“I’m her guy. I say who gets to speak to her,” he warned. 

Lucille crossed her arms and allowed herself to let out one big sarcastic laugh. “Oh, so you’re Emil. Pleasure to meet you. Though I didn’t think you would be such a punk.”

“Who in the hell are you calling a punk?” he growled, stepping closer and lowering his face to get in hers. 

Lucille didn’t flinch, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Pretty sure I was talking to you, pal.” 

“Lucille, please,” Thelma urged from behind him. She then appeared from around his shoulder, stepping next to him and placing a careful hand on his arm. Emil immediately eased off, his shoulders relaxing. Lucille was confused by the dynamic. Who exactly was in charge? “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You haven’t been home in a week,” Luci immediately retorted. “Care to explain yourself?” 

“She doesn’t have to explain anything to anyone,” Emil snapped. 

“She does to me,” Lucille stated, raising her voice. Her tone held the authority and command of a mother. She might as well have been. While the friends had always been equals, right then, Lucille was a mama bear and Thelma her cub. Thelma would have done the same for her, and she wasn’t going to let her friend down in return. Lucille panned her vision to her. “Are you safe here?” 

“Who are you to come into my club and ask questions like that?” Emil asked, puffing his chest. 

“Emil, enough,” Thelma muttered, squeezing his arm. “I am safe. Things are…” Her icy blue eyes searched the face of the man standing with her. They looked at one another longingly, intensely, sensually. It was dramatic enough of a look to make Lucille uncomfortable– and compound her confusion. What was going on with them? “Complicated,” she finally finished her thought with a sigh. Looking back to Lucille, she gave a pleading look. “Please. I’ll come by tomorrow and catch up then, alright?” 

“Are you two on drugs?” Lucille blurted out, it being the only conclusion she could draw. 

“The nerve on your friend, Thelm! I should–” 

“Enough,” a new voice spoke huskily from behind the couple. The two of them turned, their eyes growing wide as they stepped to the side. Standing there had to have been one of the most handsome men that Lucille had ever laid eyes on. Auburn hair that was pushed back in a stylish fashion, sculpted features, and the most intense green eyes she had ever seen. Not to mention, he was sharply dressed too in a dress shirt, vest, and matching breeches. A golden pocket watch chain was on display, flashing a bit of wealth as though the rest of him didn’t reek of money. 

Stepping to her, the man gave a gentle smirk. “Care to have a drink with me? We can chat a while.” 

As attractive as he was, Lucille was there on a mission. “Move it, pal. I don’t have drinks with people I don’t know.” She could see Thelma’s face move into a look of shock out of the corner of her eye. What in the world was going on? 

“Then, get to know me,” he insisted. With the same soft smirk, the guy extended a hand for a handshake. “Noah Walsh, though people around here call me The Lupo.”

Lucille didn’t so much as move a muscle to take his hand. “And why do they call you that?” 

He nodded over to the bar. “Come have a drink with me and find out.” When her vision panned over to Thelma, he leaned in and whispered to her. “Don’t worry about them. We have a good view from the bar. And they won’t go anywhere.”

“How are you so sure?” Lucille asked, her own tone hushed. 

“Because I’m the boss around here,” he stated, his smirk growing to a grin.