by
phair
Coyote strolled as casually as she could force herself across the cold marble floor of the State House’s lobby. Her leather chaps slapped reassuringly against her calves with each step. The weight of them and her biker boots made her feel grounded and confident even in territory as alien to her as the surface of Mars.
All around her were the trappings of power amassed by people who looked nothing like her. People whose history included the destruction of a way of life her mother’s tribe still mourned. If she had been merely running an errand to these echoing halls, she would have felt as brave as the face she presented to all looking her way. But, she was here for her date with a woman Coyote feared was way out of her league. Her chiseled features and confident stride were were displayed by sheer will power over the hammering of her heart and butterflies taking wing in her belly.
“Miss, excuse me, miss,” a deep, wet voice bellowed from somewhere behind her.
Coyote was certain the man was calling to her. She felt that familiar anger building in her gut. Getting targeted by police because of her appearance was nothing new and neither was her resentment of the process. She continued to walking but could hear the huffs and puffs of the man as he was gaining on her. The crackle of a walkie talkie confirmed in her mind who exactly was trailing her and what exactly he wanted.
“Miss,” his voice was forceful and right next to her.
“What?” Coyote snapped the question.
She whirled around to confront the man. He stood about a foot and a few inches shorter than her but made up the bulk in width. His hair was a graying red and wrapped from ear to ear around the back of his head leaving the entire top bare as a baby’s bum. What his head lacked in hair was made up for in sweat. He had beady brown eyes and stark white skin with blotches of brown which might have passed for freckles when he was in his teens. The name tag sagging from his breast pocket was engraved with ‘O’Malley’ but Coyote ignored the signage.
“Look Robocop, I got an appointment upstairs. Go harass somebody else. I’m sure there’s a nice flaming fag couple trying to get married that you can torment,” Coyote all but snarled the remarks.
O’Malley grinned revealing two broken front teeth before he answered. “Oh no, we ain’t allowed to bother them boys no more. We only got to watch out for terrorists and troublemakers. So, you come on nice and quiet with me now.”
Coyote was fuming. “What makes you leap to the conclusion I’m either of those things, Sherlock?”
“You match his description perfectly; Classic Troublemaker. So, you really need to follow me or you’ll be late for your very important date,” O’Malley said and gave a knowing wink before lumbering passed her.
“What? What are you talking about?” Coyote questioned as she scrambled to follow the security guard to a rear hall.
“Look girlie, if you don’t get your game on, you’ll be kickin’ yourself for a very long time. Ms. Heather don’t like bein’ disrespected by late appointments. You’ll blow your shot to blow your date if you don’t double time it,” O’Malley warned as he keyed a private elevator.
Coyote followed him into the elevator in spite of her complete confusion. As the doors slid shut, her fear of being alone with this armed stranger twisted in her belly. A hideous noise rumbled and she clutched at her middle. O’Malley chuckled which helped Coyote recapture her anger.
“Who sent you to find me?”
O’Malley stared back at her with a furrowed brow before answering, “Boy, he’s got you all wrong. Thought you were a cool cucumber but you’re as much of a nervous Nellie as he is.”
“Sam? Sam sent you to get me?”
“Yep,” O’Malley replied as the elevator reached it’s destination. “Now, if you just hush up, we can sneak you in the back door to get you ready.”
Coyote hurried after him down the hallway. “Ready? What do you mean ready?”
All O’Malley sighed before knocking on Sam’s door was, “Boy o boy, just like two peas in a pod.”
Sam pulled the door open and grinned. He waved the pair into the office and quietly shut the door. He almost skipped passed them as he hurried back over to the desk to grabbed a manila folder.
“Okay, what’s your plan?” Sam asked Coyote in an anxious whisper.
“Plan for what?” Coyote asked back dully.
“Oh boy,” O’Malley grunted.
Sam was not deterred by the evasive response. “Coyote, you only got about fifteen minutes to put the finishing touches on this date. Heather is no push over. If you think you like her and want to get to see her again, then you better have a plan.”
“Huh,” Coyote’s feigned stoicism was beginning to fail with the attention Sam was demonstrating. “We’re just going out for a few laughs. Nothing memorable.”
“Forget it,” O’Malley tossed his hands in the air and walked back to the rear door. “She’s got no chance, Sam. It’s best just to hand Heather bus fare ‘cause she ain’t never gonna give this one more than hour of her time.”
Sam’s brow drew together as he studied Coyote’s demeanor. He shook his head and bit his lip.
“What?” Coyote was feeling very defensive but was more willing to let her own guard down now that the security guard left. “What’s with the worried face?”
“Heather is a really nice girl. She has expectations…,”
“Sam, it’s just a date,” Coyote wasn’t entirely sure she was trying to convince only Sam of that notion.
“Grampa said you it took you three hours to pick out clothes and you shined up the bike twice.”
Coyote shrugged and walked over to Sam’s cluttered desk. “Well, we all like to make a good impression.”
“Grampa said he’s never seen you so nervous,” Sam said.
“Grampa said, Grampa said,” Coyote mocked him as she leaned her ass against the ancient wood. “This is crap. I’m just takin’ the girl for a spin and a bite to eat. If we hit the sack, great. If not, her loss.”
Sam shook his head as he disagreed, “We both know that’s not true. Come on, you were wonderful helping me a few days ago. Why not let me help you a little?”
“What for?” Coyote tried to sound like she didn’t care.
“Because,” Sam got very quiet as he simply stated. “It would actually be your loss if you didn’t get to spend time with Heather. Coyote, she’s really something else. Even the security guys here have been trying to hook her up with their sisters. Some of the girls aren’t even gay.”
“Funny, ha ha,” Coyote rolled her eyes. “So, what should we do in the next ten minutes to make me suitable for Princess Heather?”
Sam opened the manila folder and started to read aloud. “Okay, you’ll walk in the main office door on the third chime from the Grandfather clock in my outer office…,”
“Third chime?” Coyote asked with smirk.
“…three’s a magical number…,”
“Who are you? What have you done with my Nazi cousin?” Coyote snapped but Sam continued to detail the agenda.
“…you’ll present her with two dozen orange roses…,”
“Two? Orange? What?” Coyote was stuttering.
“Passion, orange is for passion,” Sam figured out part of her question.
Coyote glared at him and said with a sour twang, “But, I got no flowers, dude.”
Sam hurried behind his large desk while shoving his folder under his arm. He ducked down with cracking knees. When he bounced back up he was cradling a long white box with an elaborate red ribbon forming a t shape holding the lid on tight. He gently placed it on top of the papers piled on his desk. Pulling the folder free, he continued the explain.
“Okay, running out of time here. Where do you have dinner reservations?”
Coyote looked back at him blankly before babbling, “I was just gonna take her to Faneuil.”
“Okay, that could still work but you can’t just go to eat any old place there. Too touristy. Let me call my buddy at Top of the Hub and make reservations for eight. It’ll be under Nightmoon.”
“That’s completely out of my budget,” Coyote waved him off.
“I got you covered,” Sam began but stopped when Coyote pointed at him.
“I said, no.”
Sam thought for a moment, “Okay, let me think. I know, how ‘bout that little place on Hanover? Same side as Mike’s Pastry, just a block or two up from there. I can make reservations while you two walk down to Quincy Market and out through Columbus Park?”
Coyote raised her eyebrows and replied, “That’d work. Food any good there?”
“For God’s sake, Coyote, it’s the North End.” Sam dismissed the question. “Okay, so to review we’ve got flowers…,”
“Check,” Coyote rapped her knuckles on the box.
“…romantic walk through the city…,”
“…check…,”
“…delicious dinner in the historic North End…,”
“…check…”
“…a stroll back through the common to pick up your bike and driver Heather home…,”
“…check…”
“…heartfelt thanks for a fantastic night, promise to call in the morning, a chaste peck on the cheek, wait till she gets safely inside, and slowly drive away; a perfect first date.”
“…or something like that,” Coyote mumbled and picked up the flower box. She nodded to her cousin but could not look him in the eye as she said, “Thanks, Sam. I owe you.”
Sam grinned. “No, you already paid me more than I could ever deserve. Rachael and I are together and it’s because of your help. I can never thank you enough.”
Coyote could not handle the emotions of the moment and cracked a joke as she headed for the back door, “Just name your little brat after me and we’re even Steven.”
* * *
Sam shifted the giant stuffed panda bear so he could press Rachael’s front door bell. He straightened up to his tallest after hearing the ring followed by Karla’s muffled shout from inside that she would see who was there. Sam took a deep breath as he reviewed his prepared remarks for the hundredth time.
'You!” Karla hissed when she flung the door open. “Back again? Can’t you give her a night or two off from you pawing?”
“Good evening, Karla,” Sam said as pleasantly as he could.
Karla ignored his greeting to continue berating him, “Night after night, you have your way with her keeping her from getting a descent rest. She’s pregnant because of your pressuring her into a relationship. The least you could do is give her some peace and quiet while she’s sick as a dog from your seed. But, no. You come sniffing around here looking to satisfy your lust. Plying her with gifts and stuffed animal, you’re pathetic.”
Sam held the bear out and said quietly, “This isn’t for Rachael. The panda’s for you, Karla. I want us to try to get along for Rachael’s piece of mind. She cares about both of us so the least we can do is not fight.”
“You think a dumb stuffed toy is gonna make me accept you and the way you’ve treated my best friend?” Karla’s face went bright red with her anger.
“No, my peace offering is in the card hanging from his bow tie,” Sam said as he pulled the card free and held it out to Karla.
She hesitated a moment before her curiosity got the better of her. Tearing the envelope open, she tugged the card out to read the message. Her sneer faded as she reread the neat handwriting. Her mouth finally dropped open.
“I’m guessing you’re Al Samuels,” she whispered.
Sam shrugged. “I’ve got to use that name to keep the media ghouls away. Don’t want to cause a ruckus when there’s real work to do.”
“What’s going on?” Rachael asked as she hurried down the stairs and over to the unusually quiet pair. “I didn’t know you were here, Sam. Is everything okay?”
“Look, look what he’s doing,” Karla’s said struggling to hold back her tears.
“Al Samuels is donating 100 hours to Commonwealth Wildlife and Beach Conservation Cooperative,” Rachael read the words out loud and a huge smile spread across her face, “in honor of Karla Bergeron.”
“So, will you take the bear?” Sam asked Karla.
Karla grabbed the toy. She began to sob into the soft fur. The tears turned to blubbering. Rachael reached over and hugged her which only made the tears flow that much stronger.
“I brought some groceries,” Sam stuttered a little unsure of a good segue. “If you ladies want to sit in the living room, I’m going to prepare a pasta dinner for the three of us.”
Karla’s crying only increased which brought a small grin to Rachael face. “That will be great, Sam. Come on, Karla, lets go watch a some Animal Planet while Sam makes us dinner.”
Sam trudged off to his truck listening to Rachael trying to calm Karla. “Got that one right all by myself. I just might be starting to get the hang of my personal life.”
* * *
“This has been such a wonderful night,” Heather said as she slid her hand into Coyote’s hand. “A stroll through the city followed by a wonderful meal then a decadent dessert and a moonlight walk along the waterfront with one of the nicest women I’ve ever met.”
Coyote was glad it was dark. The dim lighting in the park helped to hide her blush. She gave a gentle squeeze to Heather’s hand and felt the woman snuggled closer to her side.
“I can’t say that I’ve ever had a better evening,” Coyote replied.
Heather chuckled, “That’s not what your reputation claims, Ms. Nightmoon. From the social circles we both travel in, I’ve heard you’ve had much more exciting dates than this quiet dinner date with a nerd.”
“Not true. While I’m fairly busy on the club scene, this has been by far the most romantic evening of my life.” Coyote stopped walking and turned Heather to face her. “I really like you, Heather. I’d like to see you again.”
Heather smiled and leaned in for a kiss. It was a brief exchange on just the lips but deeply sensual. It left both women moaning.
“My apartment isn’t far,” Heather said.
Coyote took both Heather’s hands in her own. “Maybe we should wait.”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” Coyote whispered unsure why she was trying to postpone a night in Heather’s bed. “I feel like this is different. Do you feel it?”
“How do you mean?”
Coyote gave an embarrassed shrug. “Ah, never mind. I’m just being silly.”
“No, no,” Heather wouldn’t let Coyote walk away. “please, trust me. Tell me what you mean. I want to be sure I’m reading this right. Please, Coyote, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I just meant that, well, I don’t think one night in bed with you will cut it for me. I think, I might want to spend more time with you than that. Maybe doing something more than just fooling around,” Coyote looked away letting her nerves get the better of her.
“I’d like that. I know I’d like to spend a lot more time with you,” Heather whispered and leaned up for another kiss.
This kiss was longer. Deeper. Probing. Much more sensual. And, noticed.
“Would you get a look at that freak show,” a squawking voice taunted from the shadows.
“Shit, sorry,” Heather pulled away realizing too late that they were in a rather lonely section of the harbor area.
“They let anything wander around now a day,” another gruff voice shouted from the dark edges of the park on the water side.
Coyote turned on her heal to face the voice behind her. She saw one hulking man walking toward her with a forty ounce clutched by the neck in his right hand. A scrawny guy, most likely the owner of the squawking voice, was lurching out of the bushes. And, not one but two men were creeping out from the shadows near the sea wall.
“Heather, there’s a hotel just a block up. Run for it and don’t stop until you’re inside. I’ll delay these clowns,” Coyote said softly.
“Coyote, I can’t…,” Heather’s voice was trembling.
“I’ll be fine just run,” Coyote urged.
She glanced over her should and saw why Heather could not follow her directions. Three teens was walking toward them at a clipped pace. At least two of them were carrying sticks or bats.
“Fuck!” Coyote hissed. “Just run for the hotel, NOW!” Coyote screamed.
She pushed away from Heather and headed for the bushes. The men behind her hurried to follow her but the three in front stayed focused on Heather. Coyote managed to grab a rock without missing a step. She dead aimed it on the run at the teen in the middle of the three. It caught him right on the nose. He doubled over cursing and cradling his face. The two other guys forgot about Heather and raced toward Coyote.
Heather ignored Coyote’s direction and her own safety. She pulled out her cell phone instead. She hit a preprogrammed number which was answered almost immediately. The voice at the other end of the line was a welcome sound.
“State House Security, this is Sergeant O’Malley.”
“Markie, we’re being attacked. Send the staties to Columbus Park. There’s a gang chasing Coyote.”
On the other end of the line she heard a true professional’s reaction, “Muther fuckers! Belva, call Melvin down at Columbus. Heather’s date is getting rolled. Heather, stay on the line with me…you there, Heather…”
Heather knew she only had time for one more message as she watched the wounded guy glare at her, “Seven white guys, shaved heads, one’s got a broken nose…,”
“Shut your mouth, Dyke!” The teen with a face full of blood charged Heather.
“Markie, help me!” Was the last thing Heather said before the line went dead.
