WE DANCED WITH EM ALL...
By Ray Crucet

Talk about Villa Amour was prevalent in the late 40's with local GI's and some of the older "bad" boys.  And it fired the imagination of us younger lads who were then already stricken with the beginnings of raging hormones (does it ever go away ... LOL). When and how to get to this Paradise were questions that  loomed in these young minds ... never mind what and how to do, once there. Two  boys were committed ...

Being mechanically inclined and with spirit and perhaps a steak of larceny, they decided to construct a motorscooter from parts liberated via midnight requisition methods from the Corozal Army Dump. They felt it wasn't really stealing in that it was after all "a dump".  No conscience at work here ...

The use of Chivas to transport the contraband worked well. The Chiva drivers would always find room for ones things, and without question, and for an extra quarter they would tie the "big stuff" on the back bumper.  It was not easy getting to and into the dump.  From the Galliard Highway in an area near the Chinese farm one would have to quietly skirt the Morgan Gardens' mansion with the pool and  nice gardens via storm ditch and saw grass trail to reach the barbed wire edge of the  dump. Sometimes the boys had to hide when an MP patrol jeep made it's rounds, but  usually, late on a Sunday afternoon, the dump would be abandoned.  A wealth of used  equipment (sometimes new  equipment wrecked on the spot ... thanks to Uncle Sam's efficiency) would lay exposed ready for the taking.  It's now time to check it all out  and grab the stuff...

After several weeks the boys had accumulated a pile of parts, most of which was junk, but from which was screened various Cushman scooter vintage assemblies including wheels, various Husky engines, frames, gas tanks, etc., which at best, were in borderline working condition.  Most would have given up at this point, but these two labored long and hard ... probably driven by imagined delights at Via Amour.  Finally a transport of sorts emerged from all this effort.  It was a three wheeler contraption with a passenger platform up front.  It was equipped with an under-powered Husky engine, a 3-speed transmission with bad clutch, bolted on "oddball" head and tail lights and a seating, gas tank assembly arrangement held on, in the main, with bailing wire.   It was not a thing of beauty and safety was certainly not inherent in its design, but it worked ... finally ... HOORAY.

The boys studied the crude map given them by a Chiva driver who befriended them during the many dump trips. The nature of this particular driver whom I shall call "Romano" was to encourage the boys on their mission, but then his Chiva was decorated with the slogan, "Live Fast, Die Young, and Leave a Good Looking Corpse". A kindred spirit of sorts here.  The boys were, at long last, ready to hit the road and after arranging with parents to  spend the night at each others' house and dressing up (long pants and clean  underwear)  they leftv... on a Friday ... after dark.

Remember, this was strictly an illegal trip without drivers license or plates.   Detection  avoidance was all important.  It was the first "stealth motorscooter" of its kind. The job of the boy sitting up front was to hold the large dry cell battery and touch the wire and terminal for illumination when necessary.   They knew the life of the battery was limited.  The lights were to be used only to avoid collision ... only  when cars were in sight and in Panama City.   After an eternity (several times lost) and with lights dimming, there finally appeared a large imposing fortress-like walled structure ahead.  Stopping in front the boys stood quietly, open mouthed,  looking at the single gated entrance and the high cement walls with sharp broken glass embedded along the top. Both had second thoughts ... It would be difficult to  escape this sinister looking place.  Finally, one boy: " well lets go in" the other: "OK,  but let's put some rocks in our pockets ...j ust in case." They drove through the entrance into a large courtyard, parked, and with caution, entered the multi-storied building called Villa Amour ...

Inside was a large room with a long bar and Jukebox on one side.  There were ladies, beautiful ladies all about the room ... dressed not in skimpy risqué costume one might expect, but in classy gowns.  It was as if they were all going out to a prom. Some to be sure, as chaperones, since both the young and old were  well represented.   They were a varied lot comprised of the tall, short, fat, thin, blonde,   redhead, brunette, etc.  All were very attractive, only many looked like ... well  like ... mothers ... and sisters.  The boys stared, again dumbstruck and open mouthed.  The ladies looked at the boys and laughed, but not in an unkind way.   One very tall high heeled beauty, gowned and coiffured as though to depart for the opera,  yet chewing gum and smiling walked slowly over to the boys with a strangely   beautiful, yet disturbing motion.  Towering over the wide eyed boys, who by this time were near a state of biblical paralysis (motionless like a pillar of salt), she shouted:  "Hey cherries give me quatah for jook boux ... Hookay?"    Boys (together): "Ahh yes, yes,  maam ... yes maam" as they, too quickly, recovered, went for their pockets, and clumsily fumbling for change, tumbled rocks and coin to the floor.  The lady laughing (her name was Chiclets), asked: "Wha yu do here ... wha yu want?" The boys: "Ah well  we, ah, just were driving by ... dropped in, ah, you know ... motorscooter we came here on a motorscooter we made."  Chiclets turned to the room: "EHYAA VAMANOS ... LES   GO SEE".  At this juncture all the ladies  poured out into the courtyard to see the  vehicle with which the boys "just  happened by."   The story unfolded and the ladies  shrieking with laughter, but again, in a good natured way, took the boys inside and  plied them with food, drink and affection (hamburgers, Coca Colas, and Motherly hugs and kisses).  A departure from the earlier fantasies, but quite pleasant.  Then the  GI's showed up ...

Seeing the boys they each in-turn reacted with ugly intimidation: "What the hell are you punks doing here?" ... "That piece of junk out front yours?"... "Get on home" ... "If I see either one of you when I come back downstairs, I'm going to kick some ass".  The boys, holding back tears were almost frozen in fear.  Undaunted Chiclets stood, and fluffing her feathered boa like a giant fierce bird, faced the two GI's (a study of ugly American) and shouted,  "HEY WAH YU DO HERE ... NO TALK LIKE DAT TO MY FRENS IF YU WAN STAY."  The GIs calmed rapidly and went their separate ways, to the bar, a corner table, or upstairs with company.

The boys were calmed by the dance ...

To take their minds off the ugly scene, the ladies cajoled the boys into dancing with each and every one of them. The "Jook Baux" was fed and everything from Mambo to Country to Ballroom was played again and again. The boys, embarrassed at first finally loosened up, accepted the lessons from the lady experts, and actually had a grand time.   All the while it was business as usual with the ladies excusing themselves from time to time as customers arrived and departed.  Then it was time to go ...

Before they left, one lady, the quiet one with the tiny waist, who danced without a   word, took the boys aside and said in almost perfect English: "When you tell your friends ... say only the truth ... but say only that you danced with every one of us ... nothing more. Promise ...?"  The boys looked at each other and then to the wise lady said: "We Promise." It rained on the way home, but they were smiling ...

Those smiles could not be washed away during that wet, cold, miserable trip home and they remained intact all the next day and for several days thereafter. And in fact whenever either one of the boys recalled their first adventure at Villa Amour, a smile would appear. Their peers were indeed curious ...

"You guys made it to Via Amour eh ... What happened? ... What did you do?"

"WE ... we danced with em all ..."

CZBrats
August 29, 1999