Wild, Hard, Sweet | Page 8

a little, and patted her hand. 'At least he's all right,' he said. 'You need a hug?'
'We all do,' she said turning to him.

5

Roland Saucier knocked and waited.
'Morning, Ginny.'
'Hi, Roland. I guess you have to ask me some questions.'
'I guess,' he said. 'I don't like this. I ain't seen much of Charley lately, but, you know ?' He was apologetic.
'You want a cup of coffee' Come in.' They sat in the kitchen. 'How's Theresa?'
The thought of Theresa cheered him up. 'Good.'
'You've been married, what, three, four years now?'
'Going on six.'
'Jesus,' she said.
Roland put down his cup. 'I guess you haven't seen him.'
'Guess not, Roland.' He didn't have to look at her to know she was telling the truth. He'd known her since fourth grade.
'Thing is, they're all pumped to get Charley. Larsen wants the publicity. Charley'd get off easier if he'd turn himself in--cut a deal, like Harry George.'
'I don't know what Charley'll do. I mean'I care--but we were fixing to break up anyway.'
Roland wasn't sure what to say. He scratched his chin, looked around. 'Yeah, well, it happens. You must be about done with nursing school.'
'One more semester.'
'Ginny, you got any recent pictures' Charley's mother didn't have anything but baby pictures and school pictures.'
Ginny went out of the kitchen and returned with a small framed black and white photograph. She looked at it for a moment. 'I'm so used to this.' She handed it to him. 'Now I'm going to get unused to it.'
'We'll make a copy and get it back to you.'
'Take your time.'
Roland stood. 'Guess I'll be getting along.' He liked Ginny. She had a hell of a body, short and stacked. Theresa said she was spoiled, but Ginny couldn't help it her father was a dentist, gave her everything. She had a set to her mouth now; she was moving on. He had a sudden memory of her in the stands, of a runner stealing, Charley straightening and throwing, low and left of the bag, Ginny cheering. There weren't many who could make that throw look easy.
He shook his head. 'Well, you gotta do what you gotta do, Ginny. Too bad, sometimes. Let me know, you hear from Charley.'
That brought a smile and a touch of fire. 'Right, Roland.'
He zipped his leather jacket halfway and walked back to the patrol car.

6

This is more like it, Charley said to himself. San Francisco is different from the east--newer, looser. More Asians. It was cheerful. Half the people on Market Street looked like they were on the run. There was a big park in the center of the city, extending almost to the ocean. All kinds of action in the park. A zoo. Lions. Across a boulevard, a long beach. The Pacific was vast and gray, impersonal, bigger than the Atlantic.
Charley was glad to make friends. But the first four guys who started conversations turned out to be gay. They were quick to invite him to special places. They wanted to keep their hands on him. It was weird. He was used to being turned down by chicks; now he was the one doing the rejecting. He didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings; he just wasn't wired that way. They got huffy or sullen. The air was filled with sexual vibrations; the ordinary sidewalk was really a sexual swamp. The women were gorgeous, well dressed, and in a hurry; they didn't seem to see him.
He ate dinners in the Tip Top Chop Suey Cafe where the entertainment consisted of an old waiter filling dessert dishes, sliding each with a flick of his wrist along a narrow stainless ledge. There was nothing to keep the dishes from spinning off and crashing to the floor. All heads at the counter followed each dish as it slid slowly along and bumped to rest against the previous one.

A month later, Charley decided to try Hawaii for a week. It was a five hour flight to Honolulu. When he stepped off the plane, warm perfumed air welcomed him like a friend. White clouds billowed over jagged green mountains. A few passengers lowered their heads to receive leis. Others walked quickly through the terminal, heading home. He felt unexpectedly happy.
'Going to the Hale Aloha,' he said to a cab driver.
'Ha-Lay Aloha?' the driver said. 'Waikiki?'
'Yeah, right. I just got here.'
'You gonna like it.' The driver's voice was easy, but it had an undertone of don't mess with me. 'Where you from?'
'Back east, where it snows.' He'd found that out in San Francisco--that he came from back east. You had to go out west to learn that.
'We got snow on the Big Island. Thirteen thousand feet. Crazy buggahs go ski up there.'
'I've shoveled enough to last me awhile.'
'I saw all I wanted in Germany,' the driver said. 'Free tour in the army.'
'Never been to Germany.'
'Foxy ladies.