“Not a fan, Cal. Just an old boss, apparently.”
Cal leaned over the table. “Well, I don’t blame him. If I heard someone call out my name with a voice like that, I’d probably go a little crazy, too.”
“So you listen to the show.”
“Well,” Cal blustered with discomfort as he eased himself backward and looked down at the burning tip of his cigar, “I might have listened…oh…once or twice.” He punched his cigar toward the mayor once again. “But just to see what’s going on in this city, mind you!” Cutting his gaze around guiltily as if he thought someone besides the mayor might be listening, he frowned and added, “Nothing more!”
“Cal,” the mayor said, impatiently. “I don’t care if you listen to the show or not. I’ve listened to it myself.” Looking up at the self-righteous idiot before him, he added, “And not just to see what was going on. I enjoyed it.”
“But, Mayor, my church group—”
“Oh, to hell with your church group, Cal. If the truth be known, they’re all a bunch of sinners that listen to Blaze Alexander every night. I’ve learned that the ones that criticize the most and complain the loudest are the ones with the filthiest minds.” He gave Calvin a knowing look, and then whirled his chair around so his back would be to the most loathsome city manager this town had ever had. “Now get out of my office.”
Angrily huffing and puffing on his cigar, Calvin Little left the mayor’s office and walked down the hall leaving a trail of stifling smoke floating behind him. When he reached his own office, he slammed the door, dropped down into his chair, and tried to think of a way he could get the mayor to take him more seriously.
Suddenly, reaching out and punching a button, he gruffly instructed his secretary to come into his office for dictation. The older, pasty-faced woman with sensible shoes and a bun at the crown of her head with a pencil sticking out of it came in and took a seat directly in front of his desk. She pulled the pencil from her bun, poised it above her pad, and then looked up at him expectantly. As he spoke, he leaned back in his chair and chose his words very carefully.
Ms. Patch’s fingers moved speedily across the pad, her expression one of disbelief as he continued, chewing the words along with the tip of his cigar.
When he was finally through, he turned his squeaky chair around and instructed her to get it done as quickly as possible because he was waiting for it. He furtively watched her pull the door closed behind her, and whirled around in his chair. Quickly opening his drawer, he pulled a little mirror out of his desk. Lifting it, he sat looking at the sun-browned face and brown wavy hair that he tried to tame with gobs of oil. His brown, beady eyes glittered with corruption as he cocked his head and began smoothing his bushy mustache. Enjoying the view, he smiled, showing his teeth to capacity, and admiring what he thought was a handsome devil. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small comb and ran it through his mustache and rebellious eyebrows.
After trying as best he could to straighten his tie while looking into the little mirror, he then put it away and went to look at a large official calendar on his wall that listed everything going on in the city. He opened his jacket and pulled out his own personal calendar, and compared the two. He proceeded to make notations of all the women’s meetings that were being held within the next few days. Nothing conflicted so far, and if all went as expected, Blaze Alexander would be history in Savannah before long. Walking back over to his chair, he sat down, causing it to squeak painfully under his weight.
Thinking about his talk with the Mayor, Calvin blustered with anger. Remembering had made him become impatient, and as time passed, he began tapping his fingers and glancing down at his watch. Finally, he got up and paced with his hands clenched behind his back. As he continually drew on the smelly cigar, he created a pungent fog as he walked back and forth within the cloudy haze.
Finally, his secretary stepped into his office and handed him the finalized, typewritten document. He grabbed it greedily, looking down at the neatly typed, error-free words. He finally dismissed her, and as he read the perfect copy, his lips stretched back in an evil smile. In his hands, he held the key to giving that bitch just what she deserved, a petition to have Blaze Alexander thrown out of Savannah!
* * * *
Blaze and Scott sat in a restaurant at the airport. He looked worriedly at her drawn face, and cloudy eyes. When he couldn’t hold back any longer, he spoke up. “My God, Blaze, I’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong for heaven’s sake? I thought you’d be celebrating with Barry Schorr all locked up again.”
She smiled weakly. “Yeah, sure I’m happy…about that.”
He reached out and took her hand. “You know, I worry about you down here all alone. You’re not getting sick, are you? You look like all the fight’s gone out of you.”
Suddenly, tears began streaming down Blaze’s face. “Oh, Scott, I don’t know what to do. Because of my utter stupidity, I’ve lost the only man I’ll ever love.”
“You have? When did this happen?”
“The day after Barry attacked me. A friend and I had an argument, and well, you know me and my temper. I accused him of some awful things, and he left.”
“Can’t you just find him and apologize?”
“I don’t know where he is. I think he left town.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Besides, I learned something about him that I…well, it…it’s awful, and just damned hard to accept.”
“What is it? Can I help?”
Blaze smiled. “No, it’s just something I’m going to have to work out for myself.” Her voice became soft as she looked down at the soggy tissue and began pulling at it absentmindedly. “I made him feel like dirt, Scott.” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain. “Can you believe it? Me, who came to town in a ragged dress with feet still caked with Georgian dirt? Me, who lived in a tarpaper shack on the wrong side of the tracks? Me, who was raped…”
“Blaze, stop right now.”
“God, Scott, with a past like mine, where do I get off tellin’ anyone they’re no good? I know he had reasons for what he did, but I didn’t give him a chance to explain. Now he’s gone, and I’ll never get the chance to tell him how wrong I was.”
“Blaze, why don’t you come back to L.A. with me? We’ll get you on at another station there, or you can go back to KCBS. They’d love to have you. And with Barry gone, there’d be no problem.”
Blaze smiled. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I’ll be all right. I just need a recuperation period, then I’ll be fine. Greg told me to take a few days off, so that’ll help.”
“Hey, where’s that old Blaze Alexander defense mechanism that’s seen you through countless bad situations? You know, the one where you get mad at the whole fuckin’ world and tell them to kiss your friggin’ ass!”
“I’ve been going to a therapist and she’s trying to kill it.”
“Hey, I don’t know if that’s such a good thing. Everyone has a defense mechanism. You know, something that helps them survive in a world of bad situations, psychos, and killers.”
“She’s got this idea that I have to act normal.”
“Babe, the way I see it—”
“What did you call me?”
“Babe?”
“Yeah.” Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes again.
“I’m sorry. I forgot that you don’t like those names.”
“No, it’s okay. It just reminded me of someone.”
“Blaze, get your mind off this guy. If you have to, go out and get yourself another man, for God’s sake, and get on with the business of living. This…uh—”
“Janitor.”
Scott looked at her. “Janitor? You mean the one that did a tap dance all over Schorr?”
“That’s him.”
“Whoa!” He looked at her. “He’s something else, all right. What did the paper call him?”
“My knight in shining armor.”
“Indeed!”
Just t
hen, they called out Scott’s flight and they both got up and walked arm-in-arm toward the uniformed ticket taker. When they reached the tunnel entrance, Scott turned and put his hands on her shoulders.
“I want you to know that anytime you decide you want to come back, just let me know and I’ll make all the arrangements with your house, or anything else. And if you need me for anything, just call.”
“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.”
After they embraced, Scott turned quickly and walked away from her. As he neared the mouth of the tunnel, he turned and looked back one more time. His heart ached as he watched her slowly walk away. She seemed so alone, so defeated, and so small. He knew that in spite of his happy home, a part of his heart would always belong to Blaze.
* * * *
With his bag in hand, Erik Grant walked down the long, dark road thumbing rides. His money was limited, and since he wasn’t sure where he was going yet, hitching would give him time to think. Blaze had made it impossible for him to stay in Savannah any longer. He saw her on every street corner, and made love to her in every bed, only to wake up the next morning disappointed. Thinking back on the last night they were together, he scolded himself. Why had he let it happen? Instead of forcing her into submission, he should have just taken the time to explain. Who the hell knows, she might still have rejected him, but at least she wouldn’t have been hurt so badly.
As it turned out, he had held back so long he was practically crazy with desire for her. God, he never intended on giving her a demonstration, and then acting like an arrogant jackass that ended up ruining their relationship. The sad fact was he had played the game of resistance with too many fat-assed mama’s in his life and knew all the moves. Some of them even fancied themselves in love with him. That’s when he would play the role of the arrogant ass and by the time he was through with them, they considered themselves lucky to be rid of him. He never thought he’d be playing it with Blaze.
“Once a whore, always a whore,” he muttered grimly, kicking rocks as he walked.
Suddenly, a car stopped beside him. Erik leaned down and saw a middle-aged man with a cigar and a mustache grinning back at him. He opened the door and slid in, thankful for the ride, but slightly gagging on the smoke.
“Where’re you headed, young man?”
“I’m not sure yet. I just want to get out of Savannah as soon as possible.”
The man cast him a frowning, slant-eyed look. “Not running from the law, are you?”
“No, just a bad relationship.”
“Oh, I see,” the man replied as his gaze traveled over him freely. Suddenly, he put out his hand, “The name’s Calvin Little.”
“Erik Grant,” Erik answered as he shook his hand.
“Erik Grant,” Calvin repeated over and over as he put the car in gear. “I wonder why that name sounds so familiar.” He looked over at Erik again and seemed to enjoy looking at his tight jeans and muscled body. “Well, it’ll come to me.”
After driving for a while, Calvin sneaked his gaze over at Erik and watched him as he dozed. “Erik Grant,” he kept repeating, still trying to remember where he had heard the name. While thinking, he slowly let his gaze drop to his crowded crotch and felt himself getting aroused. Looking up, he saw a motel in the distance and pulled into the parking lot. Erik looked up when the car came to a stop.
“You hungry, son? I thought we’d get a bite to eat and then rent a room.”
Erik felt a stab of apprehension rising in him. “Sorry, but I don’t have any money. I was just hoping to get to where I’m going, so I could get a job.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”
Erik looked at him suspiciously. “Why would you want to do that? You don’t even know me.”
“Why, I consider us friends, son. Come on. We’ll go inside and discuss it.”
“No, that’s okay,” Erik opened the door. “I’ll just get another ride. Thanks anyway.”
Calvin opened his door quickly and ran over to Erik. “Don’t be too hasty, son. I’m an important man in Savannah. I could do you a lot of good.”
“I told you, I’m leaving Savannah.”
“Why don’t you change your mind and stay for a while? I’m the city manager, and could probably get you a job and a place to stay.” Looking at Erik’s handsome face, he continued, “Why I think I could even be persuaded to pay your rent,” He looked up at Erik expressively. “If you know what I mean.”
Erik’s anger rose. “You little weasel, I can pay my own fuckin’ rent. When I want a paunchy little two-faced snake like you to pay it for me, I’ll let you know.” Erik angrily slammed the car door and hurriedly walked toward the highway.
Calvin reached out and caught Erik’s arm. “All right, son, but how about doin’ me one favor before you go?”
“Why you son of a bitch!”
“No, not that. All I want you to do is sign a paper.” Calvin reached in his breast pocket and pulled out an official looking document, and a pen. He laid it out on the hood of the car underneath the blinking motel lights.
Erik looked at the large letters at the top and began reading.
PETITION
Action: To have Ms. Blaze Alexander hereby exiled from the City of Savannah
Plea: It is the desire of the people listed below that the City of Savannah be protected from the evil influence of one Ms. Blaze Alexander by having her forcibly exiled as soon as possible. To make sure she is safely out of the realm, she is to be escorted up to the county line by city officials, and observed as she departs the area.
Signed on this, the 27th day of January, 2013 by…
Calvin Little
Calvin Little, City Manager
Erik looked at him as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “You mean you’re trying to get Blaze Alexander thrown out of Savannah?”
“The quicker, the better,” Calvin said, the blinking light being reflected in his beady eyes.
“You think she’s an evil influence, yet you invite me into your motel room for fun and games?”
“But that’s different, don’t ya see?”
“The hell it is!” Erik looked at him angrily. “I wouldn’t sign your fuckin’ petition if you promised me the starring role in The Joy of Bashing Calvin Little’s balls in!”
Calvin gulped, bringing his legs together protectively. Seeing Erik promptly turn to leave, he turned to follow, chasing him down the road. “Why not, for God’s sake? You’re leaving. It couldn’t mean anything to you.”
“That’s another reason I can’t sign,” Erik called out. “I’m not a resident anymore.”
“But nobody knows that, and besides, you were up until tonight. Who’s to know you didn’t sign it before you left?”
Erik stopped and looked at the heavy-breathing city manager as he caught up with him. His eyes scanned the thinning brown hair and the mustached mouth that constantly held a cigar, and he felt repulsion. Calvin unhappily reminded him of all the other spreading middle-aged men that he had done business with in his life. How many mornings had he woken up to a nice little sum of money on the dresser or nightstand, only to have it go to his sister or his brother for whatever they needed. He didn’t tell them how he got it, and no one asked.
Suddenly, he was tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of little mealy-mouthed moneybags like Calvin Little ruining his life. He looked Calvin right in the eyes as he thumbed his chest. “Because I’d know it, you creep. Now, leave me alone and let me get on with my life.”
“A real honest injun, huh?” Calvin walked fast to keep up with him. “A true blue boy scout type that helps old ladies across the street, no doubt. You couldn’t have helped yourself to some of their money as well, could you?”
Clenching his teeth, Erik turned and looked into Calvin’s eyes. “All right, so you’ve figured it out. I was a high-priced whore, okay? My name was well known among the ritzy section of Savannah, and I was a male model. There was also a story in the paper recently of how
I saved the life of that evil little lady you’re trying so hard to get rid of.”
Calvin’s eyes lit up. “You’re the janitor? You’re the friggin’ janitor everybody’s been talkin’ about?”
“Just don’t let it get you all hot and bothered, pervert. I happen to be in love with the woman, and I won’t hurt her by signing any stinking petition that says she’s an evil influence. The sad part is, when she learned about my shady past, she couldn’t handle it.”
He looked at Calvin with contempt. “A shady past that sick bastards just like you helped to create. I was young, and I made mistakes that I can never make up for. It ruined my life so bad that once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I’ve had to disguise myself for months just so I wouldn’t be recognized. I figured if I did it long enough, maybe I could outlive it and it would go away, but I was wrong.”
“Why in God’s name didn’t you just leave town?”
“I couldn’t,” he rasped, going through the pain of remembering. “I had a sick mother, and my family was poor. We had to have everything I could make. With my looks, I guess I just attracted the wrong kind of people. It was an easy step from modeling to whoring, and I needed the money.” He looked at Calvin through painful eyes. “I figured I’d just do it long enough to get enough money, and then quit, but I found out it’s not quite that simple.”
“Where is your mother now?”
“She died just…not long ago, and my family scattered. My sister is living in New York, and my brother recently graduated out of Harvard. After he passed his BAR, he started his own law practice.”
“And you supported them both. Sent them to school with a whore’s money, right?” Calvin enjoyed Erik’s discomfort.
Erik’s eyes glittered brightly with unshed tears. “That’s about the size of it,” he said softly as he turned and began walking.
“And what about you?” Calvin lashed out sarcastically as he followed him down the road. “A sister living high on the hog in New York, a lawyer brother, and what the hell are you? Nothing but a high-priced whore-turned-janitor.”
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