Sadie's Travels

"Hello?"

I swallowed a third time and then dove in, "uh, Lin? It's uh...It's uh Sadie, you know, from the—"

I'm not sure what changed, but his voice was suddenly different. A little huskier, a little softer...certainly not unhappy to hear it was me, which was a relief.

"Hey Sadie, I know who you are. Wassup? You okay?"

"Uh huh, yeah, I'm okay." I paused, tried to swallow again, but nothing was coming out. I sighed, this hadn't been a good idea. "Uh...I'm sorry. Forget it. I'm sorry. See you later."

And I hung up. I shook my head. My hands were trembling. Why had I done that? It had been a stupid idea. I sighed, frustrated. I moped around for a bit, annoyed with myself as I prepared dinner, and then I picked at the food halfheartedly. I kept glancing at the clock in the living room, wondering how many people I knew would be at the movie theater, wondering what they would say if I showed up alone. When someone knocked on my front door, I jumped up excited, hoping Betty was feeling better. We still had 30 minutes to make it to the theater. But when I wrenched the door open, it wasn't Betty standing on the other side. He was wearing another dark suit, navy this time with a silky cream shirt, no tie. It wasn't one of the suits we'd made for him at the shop, but it fit him nicely just the same. I was standing in the doorway, too stunned to say anything, until finally he spoke.

"You called. You okay?"

He'd been worried. Here I was only thinking about the movies and he was worried about me. I closed my eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry Lin. My friend was supposed to go to the movies with me but she couldn't go. I mean she can, but she wasn't feeling well and told me she had to cancel. I happen to see your business card, so... I-I was going to ask you but..."

I trailed off, annoyed that I was rambling and not sure how to tell him I had chickened out. He seemed to get the picture, however, and a smile slowly spread across his dark features.

"So, you still wanna go?" He asked.

I was nervous, shaking in fact, but the idea of going to the movies was too good to pass up. I nodded, grabbing my wrap and purse and closing the door behind me. He waited while I locked it, struggling clumsily with the key, and then walked beside me to the elevator.

"So, what's playing?"

"Oh! Right!"

I blathered on about the movie, filling him in on the plot and letting him know how good it was supposed to be, following him blindly out of the building. When he stopped beside a metallic green Cadillac El Dorado, I wasn't sure what was going on. Until, that is, he unlocked the passenger door and held it open for me.

"This is your car?" I gasped, hesitating.

"Yup. Unless you wanted to walk..."

Mrs. Johnson's stories of all the inappropriate things that could take place in a car ran through my head for a moment. I'd never had to worry about it before considering I didn't know anyone with a car. But now...but it was Lin. Was I really worried about Lin doing anything inappropriate with, or to, me? We were friends, right?

Lin realized I was conflicted and closed the door, locking it.

"It's only a few blocks, right? It's a nice night, let's walk."

I sighed, relieved that I didn't have to decide. I fell into step beside him, looking over at him casually. He was looking ahead, but smiling.

"Sorry. I never had to think about getting in a car with anyone before," I apologized.

He shrugged, the movement as graceful as any other he made.

"Don't worry about it. Didn't I just warn you about being more careful?" He teased.

I laughed, "actually, you did."

We walked in silence for a few moments. It was a comfortable silence and suddenly I was relieved that all those "feelings" I thought I'd had were in my head. He was just a nice guy, nothing more. And, like I said before, probably saw me as a little sister. At the corner, he took my elbow to guide me across the relatively busy street...and I had to take back everything I'd just thought to myself. His arm on my elbow was like a hot iron, burning me, branding me...I felt the flutters in my stomach again, the slow and steady throbbing a little lower than my stomach, the trembling throughout...and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

When he released my elbow, I forced myself to take a breath. Okay, so maybe those feelings had not been in my head after all. At the next corner, I actually tried to avoid his touch, stepping into the street before him. But the blaring sound of a car horn startled me, forcing me back. Lin smiled, I wasn't sure why, but carefully took my elbow again as we crossed. I was catapulted back into the whirlpool of feelings.

By the time we arrived at the theater, I was so preoccupied by Lin that I barely remembered what we were going to see. I enjoyed the movie, and the goodies, but sitting beside Lin was much more distracting than I could have imagined. Every time he shifted and his muscular arm, or his thigh, brushed against mine, I totally forgot about the movie. Actually, I was surprised I was still conscious after the movie ended considering I'd forgotten how to breathe quite a few times as well.

When we left the theater, Lin asked if I wanted to get a drink at The Cotton Club. I'd heard it was almost impossible to get into The Cotton Club, but he didn't seem to think it would be a problem. I agreed and we walked the few blocks to the club. There was a line outside, but Lin walked to the front and leaned in to whisper something to the huge man at the door. I thought I saw Lin hand him something, but I wasn't sure. A moment later, the large man was holding the door open for us. I smiled shyly as I passed the others waiting on line, feeling a little guilty.

There was a band, playing absolutely wonderful music, and dancers having a great time on the checkered dance floor. We squeezed in to sit at a tiny table against a wall, just watching the fun until a waitress appeared. Lin ordered drinks for us, I'm not sure what, but I didn't really care. Just sitting in the club, with him, was exciting enough for me.

We only spent an hour or so there, considering how late it was. I had to work the next morning and Mr. Mitchell liked me there at 8am sharp. Lin paid the bill and escorted me toward the front door, staying close as we made our way through the throng of people. Once outside, I took a deep breath, laughing as Lin seemed to do the same. It wasn't a date, but spending time with Lin was better than any of the dates I'd gone on. I wondered about that, but not for long. Instead, I chatted with Lin as we walked home, asking what he thought of the movie, what kind of music he liked and any other information I could pry from him. As we made our way further east, the streets were less occupied and grew quieter. I thought it a nice change, but Lin seemed to be less talkative, growing more and more tense. I was about to ask if there was something wrong when I heard someone calling out from behind us.

"Hey Teddy, look who it is. Little Mister Big Stuff."

I quickly looked behind us. Three males were following a few feet behind, laughing at their own comments. Lin picked up his pace, his hand on my elbow as I hurried to keep up. We were at least eight or nine blocks from my apartment building.

"Why you always dressed like a man, baby cakes? You got a set of balls in there too?"

I didn't really understand what they were saying. I saw Lin reach into his breast pocket and remove something.

"Hey, you nasty bulldagger, we're talking to you! You think you such hot shit? Do you even know what to do with that fox on your arm? Betcha don't!"

They had closed the distance between us and suddenly Lin pushed me aside.

"Go Sadie!"

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I couldn't move. They surrounded him, ignoring the knife he now held in his hand. My heart was racing. I didn't understand what was going on, why they were harassing us. What did their comments mean? What did they want?

"Sadie, run!"

It was the last thing Lin said before one of the men plowed his fist into Lin's stomach. As he did it, he said, "tell Big Lou John-boy says hello," but I was more focused on Lin. There was another powerful punch to the stomach and the grunt that followed was something I hoped to never hear again in my life. Lin swung the knife, slicing one of them across the face. That attacker backed off, grabbing at his face as the blood began to spurt from the wound, but the other two didn't. They grabbed Lin's arm, wrestling the knife from him. Then they were swearing and punching and kicking and...I heard screaming. High pitched screaming, over and over again. It took me a moment to realize it was me. Residents in a nearby building were suddenly at their windows, yelling down that they were calling the cops. The men stopped and ran off. Lin was on the ground, moaning. There was blood, so much blood. I knelt beside him, not sure what to do.

I'm not sure if I thought no one had really called the cops, or if I knew it would take them forever to show up, but I decided to help Lin to his feet. I didn't want Lin to have to lie in the street waiting. And I didn't want those men to return. It took a while to get him up and even longer to get him to take a few steps. The rest of the walk to my apartment took forever, or so it seemed. I was relieved when we arrived, hurrying to open my apartment door. I helped Lin onto my large, floral patterned sofa. Then I dashed into the bathroom to gather everything I could think of. I also filled a basin with warm water and then returned to the living room. Lin was still sitting in the same position, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. I wet a washcloth and began to dab at the blood trickling from his nose. I rinsed the cloth then started on the gash above his eye. By the time I was done, the water was red. I applied peroxide and bandaged what I could. I then hurried to the ice box, grabbing an ice tray and a clean dish towel on the way back to the sofa.

We didn't say a word as I tended to his wounds. There were tears wetting my cheeks, but I ignored them. When I was done, I returned to the kitchen and poured Lin a hefty dose of Mrs. Johnson's scotch. I never touched the stuff, so there was plenty. Lin drank, leaning back against the sofa with a heavy sigh. I knelt before him, desperate to ease his pain somehow.

"Should I call for a doctor?" I finally asked, swallowing past my tears.

Lin shook his head, "nah, I'm fine. Just—"

I watched as he shifted onto his side, his eyes still closed.

"Just let me rest here for a minute."

I nodded, although his eyes were already closed. By the time I thought to remove his shoes, and go fetch a blanket, Lin was snoring softly. I dropped into the matching armchair, staring at the man sleeping on my sofa. There were so many questions, I didn't know where to begin. But they would obviously have to wait. Before long, I also slept.

*

My neck was stiff when I woke a few hours later. It was rare, but I actually decided to call out sick from work. There was no way, after all that excitement, I would be able to function normally. Having made that decision, I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, quickly pulling a comb through my hair. When I felt I was presentable, I headed straight for the kitchen. Lin would probably need something to eat when he woke up. I made scrambled eggs, bacon, and grits. I reheated some biscuits I'd made a few days earlier, setting the small table in the kitchen before turning to wake Lin.

I didn't have to wake him, however. He was standing in the doorway, watching me. Startled, I took a step back, a hand over my heart.

"Hi," I smiled. "I was just going to see if you wanted something to eat."

Lin didn't smile, a first. He just dropped heavily into one of the chairs and began to eat. I sat across from him, picking at my food, peeking over at him periodically. His face was a mess, bruised, swollen, purple and blue in various places. He was favoring his right side, his arm cradled against his ribs. His breathing was still ragged and he winced a few times when he parted his swollen lips to eat.

We sat there, eating, silent, pretending everything was normal. I refused to ask any questions yet, not sure what to ask, not sure I wanted the answers. Finally I stopped pretending to eat and sipped at my glass of orange juice. At 8am, I phoned the shop to let Mr. Mitchell know I wasn't feeling well. He wasn't happy, but since I rarely called out, there wasn't much he could say. When I returned to my seat at the small kitchen table, Lin was finished with his food and was staring out of the window. He hadn't said a single word to me yet. I collected his dishes, washed and dried them. When I was done, Lin struggled to stand.

"I need your help in the bathroom. Can you run a bath for me?"

"Sure, of course."

I led the way, finding a stopper and filling the tub with relatively hot water. I figured Lin would need to soak his aching body for a little while, so the hotter the better. I poured some Epsom salt in the water, knowing Mrs. Johnson had used it whenever she was achy. When I turned from the tub, Lin was struggling to remove his jacket. I helped him, hanging it up carefully on a hook behind the door. Next were his pants. I also hung those up, keeping my eyes averted from the obvious private parts. Next I helped with his shirt, which was made from a fine, nicely spun cotton. Beneath it, his arms were horribly bruised, as were his sides. But that's not exactly what caught my attention. I was staring at the ace bandage wrapped around Lin's chest. The bandage seemed to be flattening what looked like...

I stopped the thought, focusing on the task at hand. My friend needed help undressing and I would help undress...him. Moments later, after helping Lin into the tub of steaming water, I left the bathroom without saying a word. But once I closed the door behind me, I felt my legs almost give out beneath me. Lin was not a he. Men didn't have breasts, no matter how small those breasts were. And men had parts that should be dangling...Lin didn't have any dangling parts beneath his...her...his?...boxers. I closed my eyes tight, trying to reconcile what my eyes had witnessed with the Lin I knew. The Lin who dressed in men's suits, walked with a swagger and held doors open for me. The Lin I thought of as my big brother. I shook my head. How could I not know? Was I really that foolish? Is that why those men had beaten her, because she was...? Why was she dressing in men's clothes? Did she think she was a man? I didn't understand it. I didn't understand it at all.

I also didn't understand why I hadn't run screaming. Why was I looking for a clean towel and tracking down Mrs. Johnson's old bathrobe which should fit considering Mrs. Johnson had been taller than me? Why was I behaving like there was a normal person in my home instead of a freak? And why had my body still reacted to her the way I reacted to Lin? Shouldn't I have been horrified and disgusted? It wasn't normal for a woman to dress and act like a man...was it? Bulldagger? I guess that meant a woman who dressed up like a man? I shook my head, re-entering the bathroom to leave the towel and bathrobe for Lin. Lin was lying back in the tub, his...her...her eyes closed. I took a moment to examine his...her body. Broad shoulders, powerfully built biceps, small, almost imperceptible breasts, a flat, toned stomach which led to a dark, triangular patch and thick, muscular thighs. And yes, my breath still hitched and my stomach was still fluttering at the sight. The same reaction. My body didn't seem to care if Lin was male or female. My brain, on the other hand, was struggling to catch up.

I left Lin soaking for about 45 minutes and then I returned to help hi—...her from the tub. When I knocked and opened the bathroom door, however, Lin was already wrapped in the robe, the wet towel hanging over the side of the tub. I reached down to let the water out, grabbing cleanser to rinse out the tub when I heard a familiar deep, raspy voice brush enticingly across my skin.

"When you're done, I need to talk to you. I'll be in the living room."

I heard the bathroom door close behind her when she left. I took my time cleaning out the tub, deciding to straighten up the bathroom as well. When I was done, I continued to hide, resting a hip against the sink. I was scared. What would Lin say? What did any of this mean? I wasted as much time as I could, but eventually I took a deep breath and made my way to the living room. Lin was dressed in his suit again, perfectly masculine and attractive as usual...other than the blood staining his clothes of course. I sat down in the armchair, glancing around nervously. I was afraid to meet those dark, chestnut eyes that sometimes made their way into my dreams. We sat in silence for a little while until Lin finally sighed.

"Look Sadie..." He started...but that was it. The words weren't followed by anything else. Nothing to help me understand. No explanation to try to rationalize who he was...who she was. After a few minutes, Lin just sighed again.

"Sadie..."

That husky, soft voice compelled me to look its way...so I did. It was Lin sitting across from me. It didn't matter what was beneath the clothing, it was still Lin sitting in my living room. The same attractive, dark chocolate skin, close cropped hair and slightly bulky frame...the same Lin. I sighed. I was confused. Very confused. As if she realized how I was feeling, Lin slowly, painfully got to her feet.

"You need some time to think."

I wanted to stop him from leaving, but I didn't. I did need to think.

***

I went back to my life. When Betty recovered we went to see The King and I. I also went to a new club with a group of female friends, a much better way to enjoy one's self, I decided, compared to dating the male customers from work. And I was careful to emphasize that word in my head.

I went back to work, still supplementing my income with after work alterations. In fact, a friend asked me to do her entire wedding dress. It would take quite some time, but I was able to charge a little more. After I finished the job, I would have enough saved up to buy my first pair of high heels. I had my eye on a pair of three inch black stilettos at Korvette's. They were somewhat expensive and I had no idea when or where I would wear them, but I still wanted them.

Card games, dinner with friends, Tupperware parties, extra hours at work...I kept myself busy. But if I was honest, none of it stopped me from thinking about her. And I had reconciled that Lin was a 'her' now. I often thought about those dark, penetrating chestnut brown eyes. I worried about all that blood, all those bruises...I worried...and I wondered. It had been over a month and I still worried...and wondered.

When another month passed and Lin had not made her way back to the shop, I decided to sneak a peek at the customer cards Mr. Mitchell kept in the back office. She didn't live that far from me actually. A few blocks uptown on the West side. I toyed with the idea of going to see her...and then decided against it. The next day I changed my mind. Then I changed it back.

A few days later, after work, I started walking in a North-Western direction. I hadn't convinced myself I was going anywhere specific, I was just walking, enjoying the spring breeze, taking in the sights, smiling at my fellow Harlem residents. It sounded good, this tale I was telling myself. What did it matter that I had a particular street in mind? Or that I avoided telling Betty where I was going? Avoided telling anyone, actually. And what did it matter if I had dressed carefully today, wearing a cream smock dress with a cream, beaded cardigan that someone had left behind at the shop? I'd pulled my hair back into a bun, colored my lips with a light, neutral brown, wore a new pair of stockings...