CHAPTER 6
Hailey begs to come with me to the Snake Pit for safety reasons, but I really want to spend some time alone afterwards, so I go alone.
At 6pm, I walk to the Snake Pit, and arrive a few doors down from it, half an hour later, where there are people arguing, alcohol bottles lying on the ground, and lots of people standing around smoking, and speaking loudly.
Even in my oversized hoodie and my skinny jeans, I get a few wolf whistles and men saying, ‘Come over here sweetie!’
I keep my head down just enough to avoid eye contact with anyone, and look at the address again to find the right place. The Snake Pit must be around here somewhere… There are a lot of old and rundown buildings, and many drunk people staggering around.
I hear the sound of motorbikes stopping, further up the road, and walk in their direction. Outside the Snake Pit are at least fifty, if not more, Harley Davidsons, and their owners, who are smoking and socialising.
Hanging above their heads is a Snake Pit sign, mostly lit up but with some globes missing. Is this really a good idea? Probably not, bit I’m here so I might as well go in.
I inhale and brace myself as I walk past the gang of bikers, who wear vests and jackets, with Savage Snakes embroidered on the back, with two snakes fighting.
Their arms are bulky and covered in tatts. Most of them have scruffy beards, and even though it’s dark, some of them wear sunglasses. As I walk past, they become silent and stare at me. I feel their eyes on me and the panic rise in my chest.
‘Are you lost?’ A man, with a deep voice, asks. I stop, and turn around and see everyone watching me, intently.
‘I’m not lost. I’m here for a job at the bar,’ I say, pointing to the building, and continuing towards the entrance.
‘Hold up there, Miss!’ He says. A sense of dread washes over me as I slowly turn to face them, and force a smile to hide my nerves.
The big bulky man walks towards me with a blank look on his face, and the other bikers part to let him through. I tremble in apprehension. He stops a foot away from me, and I look at his ragged face, into his dark eyes.
‘My name’s Viper,’ he says, holding his hand out to shake mine. I stare down at his hand in shock: I thought he was going to murder me or take me ransom. Not introduce himself.
I shake his hand.
‘Zurielle,’ I reply, and he is smiling.
‘Well, good luck, Zurielle. I hope you get the job,’ he says, kindly.
‘Thank you, Viper,’ I reply, and he lets go of my hand and I go inside.
The Snake Pit is a rustic kind of bar; I almost feel like I’m standing inside a barn. No hay barrels or horses and no real snakes! What gets my attention is an old, dusty, black grand piano in the far corner. Like a moth to flame, I go towards it until I’m rudely interrupted out of my trance.
‘Ahem. Can I help you?’ A woman asks, and I turn around and face the fifty-something-year-old woman at the bar. She is shorter than me, plump, and has short, dark, blonde hair.
‘Oh, hello. I’m Zurielle. I’m here to inquire about the bar position and the room vacancy,’ I say, in my sweet voice.
‘Oh, Zurielle,’ she says, giving me a good look up and down.
‘My name is Ruth. I’ll give you a tour,’ she says with a smile, and I follow her around the bar.
‘Our main customers are the bikers next door. They’re here every night. They like to spend their money, and they have plenty of it, so don’t fret over them going broke. This is like their second home. Next door, they deal with their business. Here, they get their pleasure,’ she says.
I blush at her words, and ponder what she means.
‘No, dear. Not that kind of pleasure. Although, sometimes, they might have a woman tag along with them and make out with her somewhere out the back. It’s not as bad as you think, or as bad as you’ve probably heard,’ she says.
Ruth raises a brow at my reaction. I don’t want to be rude, and tell her I was told this place is bad news, or that I should run while I can.
‘Over here is the beer, whisky, vodka and anything else you need. Most of time you’ll be serving nothing but beer to them. The sink is just here, to wash and dry the glasses, and the broom and shovel are here. Expect to clean up at least eight broken glasses each shift. Bathrooms are this way; the men’s are there, and the women’s are here. Women are rare in here, so they barely get used.
There is a staircase over here. Customers know not to go up there as they’re private living quarters for whoever takes the position,’ she explains.
‘Oh. You don’t live here?’ I ask.
‘No, my husband Garry and I live in the house behind, so we’re not far if anything ever goes wrong, or if you ever need help with anything,’ she explains.
‘Okay,’ I say, with a smile.
‘Now, let’s go upstairs,’ she says, and I follow her upstairs and eye the piano, as it screams for me to touch it, and to play it. I want to play it, badly. I haven’t played the piano since the day before the fire at home. I never went a day without playing until that night. I was six years old when I started piano lessons. I’m a professional now. For years, I’d wake up early in the morning and play a song for mum and dad to wake up to.
They always came and stood by the piano, and watched me finish a song, each morning. It’s one of my fondest memories; watching them smile at me, while I play for them. They loved it when I sang along, but I didn’t do that very often. I wasn’t confident in my singing ability. But they always assured me I have a nice voice.
‘Are you with me, Zurielle?’ Ruth asks, and I look back at Ruth with a smile.
‘Yes, I’m here!’ I reply.
‘You were daydreaming about something,’ she observes.
‘Um, sorry. I was. I don’t mean to be rude,’ I apologise.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s fine. Now, here is the bedroom,’ she says, opening a door to a small room with a double bed, one set of bedside drawers, and a small wardrobe. A small window above the bed-head looks out to the biker’s club house next door.
I follow her out of the room, where she opens a door to a small bathroom, with a shower, basin, and a toilet. No bath, but that doesn’t faze me.
‘And lastly, in here is the kitchenette,’ she says, opening the door to a room, with a table with two chairs in the corner. A small flat-screen TV is mounted on the wall opposite. A bar fridge sits in the corner, and there’s a toaster and microwave on the bench top. There’s a two-burner stove and a small sink. It’s small but it feels like a palace to me.
‘What nights would I need to work the bar?’ I ask Ruth.
‘Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, from 6pm till 10pm. If we need you for the extra odd shift, we will pay you for that too, of course. You don’t have to decide now. If you need a few days, you can think it over,’ she says.
Sometimes in life, when an opportunity arises, even if it’s risky, you just got to take it.
‘When do I start?’ I ask with a smile.
‘You can move in tomorrow if you like, and get yourself comfortable, and settled in. Then you can start your first shift Tuesday?’ She offers.
‘Perfect. I’ll get going then, and I’ll be back tomorrow with my belongings,’ I say, smiling.
I follow her back downstairs, where there are about fifteen Savage Snakes sitting at the bar tables.
‘Boys. Just letting you know that Zurielle has taken the bar position, so I expect you all to behave yourselves and don’t give her a hard time,’ Ruth says, wagging her finger at them, as though she’s their mother giving them a lecture.
‘Okay Ruth, no worries,’ they say, agreeing. She nods at them, satisfied with their answer. I wave and smile at them before leaving. Outside, Viper is still sitting where I saw him last, laughing with his gang.
‘How’d you go, doll?’ He asks, and I smile at his turn-of-phrase.
‘It went well. I’ve accepted the job,’ I declare, grinning. Viper holds his hand up to high-five me.
‘Welcome to the club, Zurielle. I’ll introduce you to some of my snakes here. This is Tiger, and over there is Boomslang. Next to him is Adder, over here is Cobra, and also, Taipan,’ he says, introducing me to his friends.
‘Nice to meet you all,’ I say, smiling.
‘Out of curiosity, are all members named after snakes?’ I ask, and Viper chuckles.
‘Mostly,’ he answers, smirking. ‘When do we get the pleasure of seeing you again?’ He asks.
‘I’m moving in tomorrow,’ I reply.
‘What are you up to now?’ He asks, with his hands in his jacket pockets.
‘I thought I’d stop on the metal bridge that runs over the Yarra River, for a while,’ I explain, and he smiles, goes over to his bike, and picks up his helmet off the seat.
‘Catch,’ he says, throwing it at me, and I catch it against my chest, and give him a puzzled look.
‘We’re going through the city. We’ve got business to deal with. I can drop you off at your little bridge on the way,’ he says, smiling.
‘Oh, thank you. But I’ve never been on a bike before. I’d probably die from fright being on one. No offence,’ I say, and all the guys burst out laughing. Viper smiles, takes the helmet, and knocks it down onto my head.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he says, smiling. ‘Jump on behind me.’ He gets on, and I drape my leg over the side of the bike, and sit behind him. I instinctively put my hands around his waist, for something to hold on to.
‘Hold on tight, doll,’ he says, revving the bike, and taking off. I can’t believe I’m on the back of a bike with a biker!
Thrilling adrenaline soars through me, as we speed down the road. I feel like I’m flying; I’m the most free I’ve ever been, and I’m enjoying every minute. The wind blows against my face, and the rush I feel in my veins is electric; I don’t want it to stop, I want more.
We all slow down and come to a stop. I remove the helmet, which is bloody hard to take off, and hand it back to Viper.
‘Thanks. See you all tomorrow,’ I yell.
‘See you tomorrow,’ they all yell back.
They ride off into the distance, and surprisingly, I’m not worried about them giving me any trouble at the Snake Pit. They’re actually quite pleasant and they didn’t hit on me, which is nice.