[43—Rhymes with Orange]

[CONTINUED]

The Lil' Orange Rabbit; that's what it was, and it was mine.  Incredibly, I'd passed my test.  I guess the officer didn't want to admit that he nearly caused an accident.  I didn't complain.

I had my car and my license.  We were out driving, just to burn up gas.

"Tammy," I said to my first passenger ever.  "Do you know that no single word in the English language rhymes with orange?"

"I was just thinkin' that."  She was getting better about replying to remarks like that with sarcasm rather than 'shut your dumb-ass up'.  "How many words are there in English?"

I pulled onto the highway.

"About three-quarters of a million."

"And not one rhymes with orange.  Why do you think that is?"

"Because it's a loan-word from Sanskrit, and we borrowed none of its homonyms."

"I have a better theory."

"Share it, please."

"Who gives two shits what rhymes with orange?  Did you look up every single one of them?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then how do you know?"

"Are we arguing about a color, Tammy?"

"Hell yes."

"Why?"

I slowed down for a bunch of rubberneckers looking at an accident on the other side of the median.

"Hirlfriend, I know something more exciting than 'orange' has happened to you in the last twenty-four hours.  Spill it already!"

"Yeah," I teased.  "I got my license and Dr. Spock won the election."

"You know what I mean.  Tell me about your date!"

"Well, he picked me up in a car, and took me to a neighborhood full of fancy restaurants."

"That's good.  Hit's willing to spend a buck or two."

"But then we stopped in his neighborhood; do you know he has a sister?"

"No, be for real!"

That always sounded like 'beef or eel' to me.  Someday I was gonna answer 'eel', just to see what she said.

"It is real, girl, and she look just like Christy at the party."

"Damn, do you think it was her?  The one you told all that stuff to?"

"I don't know, and Topher won't tell.  Christy said she was Topher after the party broke up, but now I'm not sure.  I'm not happy about that."

I passed through the jam and pulled into the left lane. 

"Damn.  So then what?"

"His sister was the valet, the maître d', and the waiter.  She was dressed for the part and they played it to the hilt.  Hit kept slipping her cash like it was American Tire Money—well, some of it was.  She kept it too."

"What the hell?"

I looked at the speedometer.  Sixty; better slow down.

"Hit cooked for me.  Spanish and it was incredible.

"Then he showed me a film.  Dinner and a movie, he told my folks."

"What movie?"

"A home movie.  A collage of stills and film, of his whole family.  Hit was an adorable little girl."

"Wow, did you bring your dower chest?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you two seem to be hitting it off."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing.  Git your kink on, hirl!"

"Kink?  I don't have any kinks; I'm kinkless.  I am, in fact, a cure for kink."

She looked out the window.

"You got that right.  So Cinderella, did you get back before his car turned back into a punkin'??

"I stayed the night!"

"Say what?  Did he drug you folks?  Poison darts maybe?"

"No, it was icy and I was asleep.  They let me stay."

"Jeezus Christ, Dani, who the hell are you?"

"I'm me, Tammy."

"Well, you ain't actin' like you.  So what happened?  Let me guess—nothin'."

"Nothin'."

"Don't you dare tell me that, your bestest friend in the whole wide-world, or I'll kick yo' ass."

"Not skeer'd."

"You better be...what happened?"

"We slept together."

I was still nervous about tractor trailers and two of them were approaching, running bumper to bumper, in the fast lane.  I dropped it to fifty and let them pass.

"And?"

"And what?  I got in bed on one side, he took the other.  We said goodnight and slept.  In the morning we got up.  What's there to tell?"

"Well, I hope you used a condom." 

She was funning me; I could play too.

"Four of them."  I held up four fingers.

"No.  How?"

I just shrugged.  Let her figure it out herself.

"You swear?  Izzat true?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die."

"And your folks didn't shit fire-bricks?"

"No, they said it was okay.  Of course I've barely been home since."

"Wow!  It's a crazy world, Dani, and you're at the center of it all."

"Possibly.

"Tammy," I asked, looking around at the empty fields and billboards.  "Where the hell are we?"

***

Mother was happy because I could now take Gina to her dance classes.  She saw me as a valuable resource.  Gina saw me as a co-conspirator.

"I did it again," she told me on the way to practice with no shame at all.

"Dammit, Gina, don't spring shit like that on me when I'm driving.  Did you use a fucking condom this time?"

"Yes we did.  He called them 'rubbers'.  But I wasn't upset at all."

"Aren't you worried that you might be pregnant?"

"Yes, but not worried that I might be more preggo from having protected sex."

"That makes an odd kind of sense."

"It doesn't make a bit of sense.  But it's right for us.  I really liked it this time.  We went into the salon and did it while the others were in the showers."

"Damn, Gina, you're serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, we belong together."

"Why, because you dance together?"

"You don't understand, Dani.  It's magic when we dance.  You should see us."

"I have, hon, and it's beautiful.  But I don't want you to get hurt.  He's a boy, and boys are hoglets."

"He's a gentleman, and a gentle man.  We harmonize across many octaves.  We are gonna dance together professionally."

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Gina, but you'd better be sure about this.  Your whole life could be ruined by a poor choice now."

"That's right, Dani, it could.  But it is my choice.  I'm making it; I already have.  Sanjin loves me and I love him.  We are gonna get married, when I'm old enough.  He's already asked me.  But we will use protection from now on, until we're in our marriage bed—I promise."

I had to agree.  It was undeniably her choice if she made it.

[42—Rabbit on Ice]

Nothing could be better than this, I thought to myself, lying in bed with Topher asleep beside me.  Hit slept like a cat, sprawled out, hits feet and hands twitching all night.

But I slept like a dream. 

We were wearing the same pair of burgundy velour pajamas; hit had on the bottoms; I wore the top and a pair of panties that, two weeks ago, I'd have considered provocative.  Compared to what Gina and Mary Jane wore—those being the only girls I'd seen in their underwear lately—they were granny panties.

"How are you kids doing," Mary Jane barged in without knocking carrying a pair of stacked trays.

She had her plush bathrobe drawn tightly around her body and was wearing naked mole-rat slippers.

"What's this," I asked, sitting up against the head-board.

"Breakfast."  She seemed way too chipper to let live.

"Huh," Topher said, coming to life.  He sat up.  "Mary Jane, don't you ever knock?"

"Sorry, big brister; it's not like you two could be bumping uglies in here."

"My sister," Topher apologized on her behalf.  "Miss Tact, 1976.  Do they have a word for privacy on your planet?"

"You two are just so sweet," she unstacked our trays and put one in front of each of us.  "Just like a couple of Precious Moments.  I should run and get the Polaroid."

"If you do, I'll break it," Topher warned.  "Come on Dani, we should make a clean break, before she has incriminating evidence."

We got up and went into the front room. 

"Do you have a television?  I need to see the school closings."

"Everything is closed, Dani."

"I have to test drive a car today, and I have my driving test at 2:00."

"I don't know," hit said doubtfully, "maybe by noon we can get out.  But I'm sure Mary Jane would loan you her car to take the test in."

"Yes," she said, coming into the living room with her own tray.  "Now what did I just agree to?"

"Loaning Dani your car.  I could take her for her test at 2:00."

"That's fine, I suppose.  It's not like I'll have school to day."

"What are you studying," I asked her.

"Chemistry.  I'm gonna be a vet."

"Cool.  Isn't this cozy?"  We were all squished up on the couch together, with Topher in the middle. 

We ate and listened to the news on the radio.  Topher was right, everything was closed.  I listened for a while, not sure what to do.  I should call my mother; she'd want to know I was alright.

***

"Are you ready Miss," the police officer asked, buckling in beside me. 

I had swallowed my pride and had marked [F] on the application; It hurt me to my very soul.

But I'd aced the written test.  I had plenty of knowledge, but I wondered if I had the experience to drive well enough to pass in this weather.

But I was in my car.  Not exactly mine, yet, but it would be after I passed my test. 

It was a 1974 orange Volkswagen Rabbit.  When I saw it in the lot, with a price of $1,500, I knew it would be mine.  I eventually talked the salesman down to $1,200 with half down and $150 a month for the next four months. 

I'd left him with a $300 deposit to let me take the test in it.

The good thing about it was that it was front-wheel drive.  They handle better on ice, or so I'm told.  Not that I'd ever driven on ice before.

I knew the theory of course, but that wasn't the same thing.

"You may begin any time," Officer Fallon told me.  He had his clip board at the ready and a red pen.

I fastened my belt, checked the mirrors and double-checked my blind spots.

"Pull into the traffic," he said, and I slowly eased onto the road.

The secret to avoid sliding, according to my dad, was to never start in the first place.  He says it's easier to keep sliding once you start than to stop.  But if you do go into skid, turn into it.

"Turn left at the light."

I stopped and signaled, making sure not to turn my wheels prematurely.  A kid in our Driver's Ed class failed because of that.

So far so good. 

We went on for a while, the officer saying nothing, just watching me drive and occasionally taking notes.

"Turn right."

I stopped at the red light and then proceeded before it could change.

Right on red after stop.  You're doing fine, Dani.

"Do you feel comfortable parallel parking?"

"Sure."  I looked for a spot.  "How about there, between the white Ford and the pickup truck."

"That is fine."

I pulled up parallel to the Ford and turned my wheel.  I backed up and forward again, then back.  It was perfect.

"Good.  Now get back into the traffic, and turn left at the end of the block.  Get on the highway."

I was a little nervous, but I'd be fine.  I heard Tammy and Topher cheering me on in the back of my mind. 

We got onto the highway and it was a mess.  There were two pairs of ruts in three lanes of traffic.

There was a panel truck in the slow lane, tooling along at forty miles an hour.

I got stuck behind him, not wanting to pass in this muck.  He kept throwing brown slush on my windshield.

 Maybe a little noise would help.

"Can I turn on the radio?"

"Be my guest," he said, but wrote something down.

I turned it on and dialed in NPR.  He added another note.

"Pass the truck."

"Are you sure," I asked him, another mark.  There were no cross-ruts to change lanes in.

"Yes."

I sped up and lurched out of the ruts.  I was trying to be careful, not go faster than I could handle, but the truck saw me and sped up too.

I pushed it a little faster.

"...suspect is believed to be involved in the October assassination of Sinn Féin  Vice-President Máire Drumm," a gentle, almost bland female voice on the radio said.  "She was assassinated while recovering in Belfast's Mater Hospital.

"And, in an act of defiance against the GOP, Mike Padden, Republican Elector from the State of Washington, surprised the Nation and cast his vote against Incumbent President Ford."

"Woo-hoo," I said and punched the air.  That meant Ford only had five votes from Washington.  Dr. Spock was the winner!

My hand was still off the steering wheel when I hit the second set of ruts.  It jerked out of my other hand.

I got it back under control by the time I hit the other side of the furrow.  We were on a bridge, and I was afraid we'd tumble over the railing into the traffic below.

I turned hard right and let off the accelerator.

The truck was still beside me but the driver hit his brakes when he saw I was out of control. 

I had overcorrected and my rear quarter-panel edged toward the Jersey Barrier.  At the last minute I had the presence of mind to hit the gas and I straightened out. 

Had I overcorrected again?  I wouldn't know until I hit the other side of the ruts.  In a rear-wheel drive, I'd have surely fishtailed, but I didn't know what would happen in this car.

The front brakes caught just for a moment—I swear I didn't tap the pedal—and we went into a skid. 

We did two 360's and started swerving into the railing just as we cleared the bridge.  I turned hard into it and used the emergency brake to ease us to a stop. 

We came to rest not eight inches from the concrete but still in the right-hand lane.  A blue van switched to another lane and passed us.

The cop's eyes looked like headlamps, and he was whiter than winter butter.  Sweat stained his pits, and I can't say for sure he didn't wet himself.  He had a death-grip on his clipboard. 

I saw another car looming in my rear-view mirror and pulled on to the shoulder.

He tried to write but couldn't, so bad were his hands shaking.

"Are you okay," I asked him, more than a little concerned.  Was he having a stroke?

"Station," he managed to say after several tries.  "Go...station.   Wet."

I drove him back in silence, furious at myself, but also at him for insisting I pull that stupid stunt.  I was gonna complain to the highest authorities when they failed me.

[CONTINUED]

[41—Verre Slippers]

[CONTINUED]

It takes a lotta chutzpah to show a date films of you when you were a little girl.  Especially if you no longer were.

I was atwitter with excitement, but some part of me—the part other people always called 'spoil-sport'—kept trying to warn me that this was not for me.  I liked Topher a lot, but he seemed to be intent on having more than I might be able to give.  It was starting to worry me.

The film hit showed me told old spoil-sport to mind her own damn bidness.

Hit was a cute baby-girl, with chubby cheeks and dimples.  Dimples!  I watched hir grow into an adorable adolescent.  Then hit became a boy. 

But he hardly hogged the screen; his whole family was there and I found myself sitting in the middle of a stereophonic running commentary.  By the end, I felt like calling them familiar.

It was a short film, and when it was done, I looked at my watch.  It was only 9:30 but it had already been such a full evening.  I was tired, but I wanted to stay.  Mom said I could stay out till midnight.

"So, tell me about your day, Dani," Topher said, stretching out on one end of the couch. 

"Stressful.  I've been run ragged.  I took some time off school today."

"What for?"  He didn't approve of me skipping school.

"Topher, my sister had sex, Halloween night."

"So why did you take off of school today?"

"Because, the boy was seventeen.  I went to see him at his grandmother's dance school."

"Your sister's boyfriend is a dancer?"

He chuckled.

"That's not funny.  And he's not her boyfriend.  Well, maybe he is."

"I know it's not funny, Dani, but what can you do about it?  If it's what they want to do, then why can't they?"

"They didn't use a condom."

"I'll kill him."

"Yeah, know what I mean?"

"Yes, my sister has sex too, and I don't think she uses condoms.  The nerve of some people!"

"But my sister's thirteen.  Yours is a grown woman."

"It's not good that they didn't use protection, but surely something could be done about that."

"Already done.  I went and confronted Sonjin at the school.  I gave him  condoms and told him if they were together again, he'd better use them, or else."

"Or else what?"

"The blowtorch!"

"Ow.  Does your sister know how to use one?"

"I don't know."

"You should show her."

"I still got a box in my coat."

"Well if need one for any reason, there are plenty around here." 

He pointed out a bowl on the island, a kitty on a bookshelf, each full of them. 

"I bet," he said, digging into the cushions, "that you could even find one in the couch, but I won't guarantee it's effectiveness."

He came up with a sad looking package with dog-eared corners.

"This one has a rip."

He pulled it out of it's package and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

"I don't know.  I saw a guy once put one on his head and blow it up three feet tall.  And some guys say they're too small."

"It's really lubricated; take of your shoes," hit requested, "and put your feet in my lap.  I think I might have a use for these after all."

***

I woke up and realized I was not in my own bed.  I was on a couch, under a thick wool blanket.  I was barefoot but otherwise in my street clothes, minus overshirt and pocket stuff.

I tried to get up but my feet had been tenderized. 

Topher had put condoms on them and then gave me the best foot massage ever.  I don't know about sex, but it was certainly better than 'better-than-sex-cake'. 

I highly recommend it.

I was gonna do his, but I must've fallen asleep.

What time was is?

I couldn't read my watch in the dark—the moon had already set.  I started stumbling around, trying to orient myself.

"Topher?"

I heard hir get up and open hits door.  Hit clicked on the light

"What time is it?"

"It's 3:00 AM, Dani, go back to sleep."

"Three AM?  Topher, you have to get me home now.  My folks are never gonna trust us again."

"Calm down, Dani.  I'll make you some tea.  They know you're here, I called them earlier."

"So why aren't they here, banging at the door with a pair of tin-snips and a fire-axe?"

"Did you sleep through the whole storm?"

"What's going on," Mary Jane asked blearily, appearing in the doorway in a black silk teddy under her open terrycloth robe.  She was definitely not a Rarebit.

"Dani's scared," Topher explained, "and disoriented."  Hit went into the kitchen and put on a kettle. 

They worked together like automatons, hir making tea and setting out the cups and saucers, her making crumpets, with butter.

So we had a late, late snack.

"You called my parents, and they said what?"

"That it was safer if you stayed with me and Mary Jane tonight, and that I could take you to school in the morning, if there is school."

"What?  Why wouldn't there be school?"

"Dani, haven't you looked out the window?  There was an ice storm while you were asleep.  It's crazy out there."

I went over to the window and looked out.  Hit wasn't exaggerating, it was thick with ice. 

"Wow, and they said I could spend the night with you?"

"They know Mary Jane is here."

"How do they know she's real?  My Momma won't fall for the Christy routine."

"She started talkin' smack about my youthful indiscretions with you mother—the kind nobody tells about themselves—she knew it wasn't me."

I drained my tea.  It never woke me up quite like coffee did.

"Thanks for the muffin, Mary Jane, but I think I want to go back to sleep.  Topher, can I sleep in your room?"

"Sure."

"Or do you only have a single?"

"No, I have a double.  I like to stretch out.  Do you mean sleep with me?"

"Sure, why not.  We can snuggle.  I'd like that, and I'm sure we'd both be comfortable with that."

"Omigodyess," hit said so quickly it looked rehearsed. 

"Come on," I said, holding my hand out to hir.  "Let's go to bed."

[40—Funny Looks]

[CONTINUED]

But before I could react, Topher had come around and joined us. 

Hit handed the keys to...I don't know, heoself?

"Thank you my good man," hit offered a handshake and a ten-dollar bill.  Hit had folded it where heo could see it was a greenback.  "Here you go.  Take good care of her."

Christy got in the car and drove it into the parking lot.

We walked up the street, basking in the moonlight and hit stopped in front of a porch with an enormous orange tabby.  I'd seen watermelons smaller.

"Where are we," I asked, enchanted.  "Is this where you live?"

"Yes."

"Oh, and you have a pussy cat..." I started making the obligatory signs of brain damage that intellectuals always make around cats.

"Tom cat," Topher corrected, and his name is Ulysses."

"Brave Ulysses," I said to him and scratched him under the chin.  He had the most immoderate purr.

"But he's, ah, not mine.  I live in the basement."  Hits eyes pointed down.

Basement apartments are somewhat rare in the Midwest.  We have storm cellars and bomb shelters, but houses with finished basements are not that popular.  Between radon and constant flooding, most people don't think they're worth the trouble.

But this wasn't a dank hole.  Even the cinder-block stairwell that was hits front porch was tidy.  I like tidy.

The door opened, and again, I was confronted with Christy, only now wearing a fussy little mustache and a bow tie.  Heo held open the door.

"Rabbit and Rabbit," the maître d' bantered with us, holding up a menu, "party of two.  Your table is waiting."

"Thank you Garçón," Topher said smoothly and slipped heom a twenty-five dollar red-back.  Red-backs were Federally funded bills issued by states, and they expired.  They sometimes came in funny denominations, but they were legal tender.  I'd once seen a thirteen dollar bill—though it was a blue-back—and two's, three's, and four's were not that uncommon.

They spent just like green backs until the last date given on the bill approached, at which time they were favored for short-term transactions, like gambling debts, purchasing contraband, and tips.

"Very good, sir," Christy said, looking at hira palm.  Maybe I should say Christopher.

Christopher...Topher.  Oh my God, how dumb am I?  If I hadn't seen them both in the same room, I'd be hopping mad right now.  As it was, I was more than a little intrigued.

The apartment was small, a living room and eat-in kitchen which were only separated by an island-bar.  There were three doors on one wall and another for a coat closet by the entrance. 

'Christoper' took our coats and put them away.  Heo even gave Topher a coat-check.

The main room was crowded, but not junky.  There was a sofa facing a faux-fireplace but no TV.  There were book cases along two of the walls.

A tiny square table, complete with white table cloth, white china and silver plate, even a candelabra sat between two rattan chairs.  If hit was trying to impress me, it was working.

Christy appeared at our elbow, sans mustachios, and attended us while Topher held my chair and then took hits own seat.

Our waiter offered a bottle of wine, but I didn't see the label.  Topher nodded and Christy produced a corkscrew and opened it.

Heo offered the cork and set it, duly sniffed, aside and poured two glasses.  It was a white wine.

Heo set the menu in front of me and returned to the kitchen.

"Topher, what the hell?" 

"I'm sorry, you seemed be enjoying yourself; what's wrong?"

"Who is that?" 

I was speaking in an intense whisper for some reason.

"That's my sister, Mary Jane."

"You have a twin?"

"No, she's my little sister; two years younger."

"Is she a Rarebit too?"

"No.  She's a girl.  But we don't know if she's a carrier.  They call that a pseudo-female in the Rarin Report."

"Yes, I've read it; it's insulting.  Why didn't you tell me you had a sister?"

"It never came up."

"Never came up?  It never came up?  Topher, remember Halloween night?  That would have been a good time to tell me."

"Sorry.  Let's not fight.  Look at the menu."

I did.

tapas:

pan en la estilo de compesinos

aioli

jamón

olivias

entré:

medallónes de puerco adobo

arroz arból con cosas

esparrágo con mantequilla y limón

dessert:

flan con fresas y miel

Wow!  Iberian spread, somewhat rustic, but definitely smacking of effort.  Even the Spanish was passable.

Mary Jane came back out, bearing 'peasant bread' and a tray of delightful snacks. 

I kicked Topher under the table.

"Ow.  Oh, Mary Jane, this is Dani.  Dani, this is my kid sister Mary Jane."

"It's so nice to meet you," I said and hugged her around the waist without getting up.  She tensed up and shifted her burden to that hip.

"Take it easy there, Dani, or sissy might get the wrong idea."  Hit turned to Mary Jane.  "And you can't have hir."

Her eyebrows shot up and she looked me over like a lion picking out lamb chops.

"You can have hir, brister, hit's too skinny for me."

She set down the tray and we dug in.  The bread was to die for, light with a perfect crumb.  There was butter and aioli, that garlic and oil sauce was just so delicious.

"You went all out," I told him.  "Getting your sister to cook me a meal like that."

"Not her," he said, sampling the olives.  He followed it with a swallow of wine. 

"She's the front tonight; the waitstaff, the valet, the maître d'.  I'm the kitchen crew.  I cooked, and will wash up after I get you home."

"You made this?"

"Yes."

"I'm impressed."

"I was hoping you would be."

We munched, drinking more wine and before long, Mary Jane served the main course.

It was gorgeous, thin-sliced medallions of pork over a bed of short-grained rice, topped with fresh rosemary and a drizzle of sauce.

It tasted even better than it looked or smelled.

"You know, I hear sex is overrated," I told him, sucking at my fingers.  "Is there any reason you can't build a relationship on food?"

"None at all.  Restaurants do so all the time with their customers.  At least they'd better."

Mary Jane started moving furniture on the other side of the room.  Topher didn't even look at her, much less offer her help.

I fought off a feeling of resentment on her behalf.  Maybe they had some other arrangement; maybe this worked for them.

"So what other hidden talents do you have?"

"Magic hands," he explained.  "It's all in the hands.  I have no talent at all, except for that."

"You lie like a dog."

"Sadly, yes.  Are you having a good time, Dani?"

"Yes, I am.  You are totally different from every other person on this earth, aren't you?"

"I'm sure that I am."

Mary Jane finished her housework and went back into the kitchen, where she clanked about and cussed. 

She came back over with a two plates of flan, topped with thin slices of strawberry and drizzled with honey.  She served them with thin flute of sparkling wine. 

It was better than the tiramisu. 

"Oh my," I said, pushing the last bite away.  It was so good but one more would surely founder me.  "That was so good." 

I belched, but not on purpose.

I turned pink and hit laughed.

"Don't apologize.  I take it as the sincerest form of compliment."

"What next?  The Comfy Chair?"

"No," he laughed.  "Next, a movie."

"Ooh, have I seen it?"

"I doubt it."

Mary Jane had fired up a projector and was focusing it on a screen she'd set up in front of the mantelpiece.  She had moved the sofa back and there was soda and popcorn on the coffee table.

"Is it good?"

"I think so."

"Who's in it?"

"A cute little girl, with cornrows and missing front teeth."

"Oh, that's so cute!  Who is she?"

"Me."

[CONTINUED]

[39—First Date]

Topher's visit had thrown me off my schedule; I hadn't watched the news last night and was again shocked by the papers.

Apparently, Washington had gone to Ford.  I was bitterly disappointed.

I told Mother I wanted to walk to school; I had some business to attend to.

But I didn't go to school.  I stopped by the corner drugstore and bought two boxes of condoms.  I put one of them in each of my coat pockets and threw away the bag and receipt. 

Then I went to Kovac's School of Dance to look up this Sanjin character.

"Gute mornink," A pleasant voice greeted me.  It spoke English, but in a thick accent that sounded to be from Eastern Europe.

"Good morning," I replied.  The voice had come from a short but thick woman in her sixties, at least.  She wore a shawl and a kerchief tied over her head.  The Russians would have called her babushka—grandmother.

"Vat kin I do for hyou this mornink?"  She pronounced 'you' like it started with an 'h', like the 'ch' in loch.

"My sister dances here.  And I'm looking for a leotard she left here accidently."

That was vaguely like the truth, just a little short on detail.  But like stone soup, it'd taste right enough to a hungry mouth.

"Vat," the old woman asked dramatically, "iss hyour sister's name?"

"Regina Heywood.  Gina."

"Oh, Gina.  She is gute student.  Dances like fawn.  To tell truth, I think my grandson is sveet on kher."

That's what I'm gonna find out. 

"Oh," I said, taking the proffered opening, "Is he in today? He may have found it, and put it aside for her."

Found it on the ground at her feet, the cretin.  What kind of seventeen year-old is 'sweet on' a thirteen year-old girl?

"He's at school, but he only goes half a day.  He vill be back by noon.  Should I tell khim you vere here?"

"No.  I'll come back.  The leotard was mine, and I'm very fond of it.  I'd hate if anything happened to it."

Except the 'leotard' is a costume and what I'm fond of is my sister.  Maybe I should bring a pair of shears with me when I came back.

***

So I ended up skipping the rest of the day, with Tammy. 

We went back to Kovac's at about two o'clock. 

Sanjin was in.

We cornered him in the store room.  He didn't look seventeen.  He was thin, but made of solid muscle, with dark greasy hair and a bit of fuzz on his chin. 

I was glad Tammy was with me when I confronted him.

"Vhat do hyou want," he asked without taking the time to check us out.

"I want to talk to you about my sister."

"Hwhat?"

"My sister, Gina."

That got his attention.

"Hwhat about her?"

"I know you took advantage of her.  It had better stop."

"Or hwhat?  You'll castrate me?  Hlook, leetle girl, hyour sister is a bik girl, and she can make her own dec-izhions.  Besites," he smiled like a lop-sided grin that made him look Gina's age, "ve are in hlove."

"I'm not her little sister, you reprobate, I'm Dani, and I'm the oldest.  Nothing get's past me, you understand?"

"Hlook, Dani, Gina is vonderful.  She is ze center of my hworld, and I hlove her like my own heart.  Is none of your bee-zness."

"It is surely my business, see, for two reasons."

"And vhat are zey?"

"One, I'm Gina's older sib, so anything that happens to her is my business."

"And two?"

"If you don't listen to me, I'm gonna hold you down and let Tammy here rip your prick off.  She may not look like much, but she's pretty vicious when provoked.  She's fond of Gina too, so I wouldn't push it if I were you."

That got his attention.  He wasn't exactly scared, but I suppose being threatened with an avulsive orchidectomy can concentrate the mind.

"So," he said bravely.  "It doesn't chanch any-sink.  I love her and vill not forzake her for hyou or anybody else."

"Well," I told him, "In that case, I'm gonna make you a deal."  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a box of condoms.  "The next time you put your dick in my sister, it had better have one of these on it—unless you're in your marriage bed—or I'm gonna set fire to it with a blow-torch.  Is that clear enough for you?"

He looked offended, possibly, but not intimidated. 

"Certainly," he said, and took the condoms.  "Any-sink else?"

"No," I told him, slightly embarrassed by my outburst.  "That'll be all."

We left, and I hoped he got the message.  Even more, I hoped he listened.  I didn't know how to use a blow torch.

"Dani," Tammy confided in me while we were waiting for the bus, "I don't think I could have taken him."

***

Topher picked me up at seven, but hit was driving an automobile.

"What happened to the motorcycle," I asked hir coyly.

"This situation calls for a car."

Hit came in, and talked to my parents, and even opened the car door for me.

We sped off into the night, and hit got on the highway, going east.  We headed toward downtown but hit turned off near University City.  Hit drove down a street famous for its swank restaurants.

"Nice," I said as we passed the upscale bistros and an imitation chateau noted for haute cusine," I'd have been just as happy with a pizza."

We came to a light.  Hit smiled and winked at me.  "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yes.  It's not like it's a real date."

Hit was about to speak, but frowned for a second and remained mute.

"I mean a normal date; one with hormones and expectations."

"I understand, Dani.  But let's just let things happen, and analyze it later."

"Okay."  I suddenly felt like dirt.  And hit was about to drop thirty dollars a plate to impress me.  I'd tried to tell hir not to bother.

"The light's green," I pointed out. 

Instead of continuing, hit turned right and drove to a block of row-house apartments across from a strip-mall.

Hit pulled up to a figure standing motionless on the sidewalk—a black person, dressed in black slacks and a white button-up shirt under a black satin vest.  Heo wore a garter on hira left arm.

I looked at Topher; hit was smiling, and crooning hits head. 

The figure sprang to life and opened my door.  I wasn't expecting it, but Topher didn't seem worried so I accepted the hand that was proffered.

It was Christy.  I was dumb-struck. 

[CONTINUED]