Sister Golden Hair Delight Ch. 03

Chapter 3: Just a Walk in the Park

All rights reserved, copyright 2010

"Would you like to go for a walk? We could get a cab to the Park and talk some more?"

"That would be very nice, thank you."

I didn't get out to the Park very often and it would be fun walking around. I didn't think it would be very crowded in the middle of the workweek.

Golden Gate Park in San Francisco is one of the best city parks in the country, larger even than Central Park in New York City.

Although the park is quite old, only after the 1967 "Summer of Love" did the park gain national attention. The "Hippie Revolution" changed the traditionalist city forever, replacing the polite high society of white gloved old family matrons with the beaded and bangled teenage runaway girls looking for love, serious sex and getting high.

Over the years, the 'turned on' generation that didn't die from drugs or diseases matured and found middle class jobs.

The remnants of the free love movement retreated to the Haight – Ashbury district nearby and the park once again became the haven of Bay City families.

I changed my shoes back to the office flats before leaving the restaurant but I still stood taller than he did. He didn't seem to mind at all which was fine with me.

We left the cab and walked aimlessly through the park, mostly moving westward toward the Pacific continuing our conversation from Alioto's.

Sometime during our walk, we started holding hands again although I never knew exactly when or how or even why and then I put my arm through his and leaned against him. The strength of his touch brought excitement to my roughly thumping heart.

Jim bought me a small chocolate mocha ice cream cone and a big yellow balloon that bobbed in the ocean breeze. I listened to his stories. He wiped the melting sweetness from my lips with a light touch of his fingers. I laughed at his silly old jokes. I really thought he was funny... it wasn't the jokes so much as how he told them.

This was more like a date than a job interview... I was so, so happy that someone actually seemed to care for me more than as a cheap hook-up in the office or a glorified typist...

'Thank you, God... please, please', I prayed, 'make this happen for me... for us, if there was an 'us''.

At this point, I was willing almost to do anything to make it work.

It was early afternoon and my life was going to be turned upside down. Never tell anyone, including yourself, how happy you are. The Universe doesn't like that and was getting ready to hurt me badly.

Even though California was still in summer, San Francisco always held a cooler climate than the southern half of the state; he wrapped me in his tweed sports coat. I was surrounded by his scent and his warmth made me comfortable and wanted... a feeling that I had always hoped for and missed most of my life.

This was what I've always wanted... was he the one for me or was I just reacting to the first man, the first real man that was giving me some attention? I... didn't know... and right then, I didn't care... I wanted this moment to last forever.

I must admit I was getting very wet thinking about him and hoped that my panty liner was up to the job. I was embarrassed how my body was responding... I had no control over my emotions.

I was in heaven.

Jim explained different projects that his consortium was working on; if everything worked out as he expected he would share the necessary information on the top-secret work once the government vetted me.

He hoped to get another contract from the Australians to update their restoration work on the Great Barrier Reef.

He laughed. "If you were in the Marine Corps, you'd look so good in uniform, just like Major Cottone, but... then... we couldn't be walking around like this."

I looked at his face, looking for the joke but saw that although he was smiling he was serious... and what the hell kind of woman was Major Cottone?

"Rules, you know... always rules... always... the damn rules."

I felt strange and uncomfortable at his remark. What was that supposed to mean?

We walked in silence and then he began to speak again.

"The security clearances are vital because of the military contracts and I need someone who can discuss both areas with me because there are so many that have both military and civilian applications.

There are military personnel I could use, of course, but they wouldn't have the training and knowledge that I require for the other projects. I can't mix the commercial and defense sides of the business using military personnel anyway.

You, I know, can do this. I'll be honest; I had Naval Intelligence check you out while I was talking with Sales in his office.

I know that was an invasion of privacy for you, I know... but it was necessary for you to be cleared by the Defense Department.

I would have offered you a position no matter what but not this one. You are a very honest, intelligent woman.

Besides, I like you, and I, uhh... Ah, can we talk about it later? When we've known each other a little better, OK?"

Oh, my God, I thought... he was somehow serious about me and was moving carefully, yet... still faster than I could have ever hoped.

I could fall in love with this man very easily and began to feel I actually was. Maybe his 'alpha' personality was indeed affecting me.

We eventually left the Japanese Tea Garden and walked across the grass toward the Asian Art Museum on the northeast side of the park.

The onshore breeze brought with it the usual summer Pacific chill and I was getting uncomfortable with the ocean wind.

"Jim, it's getting a little cold... would you mind if we went somewhere else?"

"Of course, I'm so sorry... there's a Blackberry in the coat pocket. There's a number already listed for a cab. Why don't you give them a ring?"

We stopped near JFK Drive to make the call.

And, of course, that's when the shit hit the fan and we almost died.

A miserable tired-looking car covered with primer and several colors of fading paint stopped at the curb. Three rough looking men seemed to look us over, then getting out of the car they were now moving quickly toward us.

As they came closer, I could see tattoos advertising everything from Nazi swastikas to knives dripping blood.

Oh, shit! I then remembered the skinheads were making a big comeback in San Francisco and had shared their attention between minorities and the gay-lesbian crowd.

It seemed I, with my darker complexion and hairstyle, was the target of their attention.

Great! Every man I know ignores me forever and now both good, bad and ugly are out to get me.

"Damn it... skinheads." Jim quickly looked around, never losing sight of the three approaching men and pulled me toward a brick building. His grip on my hand suddenly tightened so much that it hurt.

The threat had become personal to him... and to me!

Shit! I was so screwed!

"Kaylyn... c'mon, girl, move over toward that doorway over there. Move! Now!"

He backed me into the brick wall's inset doorway and turned to face the men.

"Quick, stay behind me and call 911. Do it now before they get too close and see what you're doing."

I crouched down and quickly began talking to the 911 operator explaining what was happening and exactly where they were.

"Kaylyn... listen to me... no matter what happens or gets said try not to worry and just stay on the phone with the police.

Pretend to be frightened, you understand?"

Pretend? What's to fucking pretend? I WAS frightened. OK... OK... stay calm, stay calm I told myself. God, I hoped whatever he wanted to do was going to work.

I could smell the stink on the men as they approached.

"Well, well, well... look at what we have got here... what you doin' with the nigger, white boy? She your bitch, is that it? Time to share, white boy."

The speaker turned to his companions, grinning. Out came a long ugly knife.

OH, Jesus Christ! That was the BIGGEST fucking knife I had ever seen!

"She's a nice piece of ass for a nigger. We're gonna get some of that today before we cut it up good."

Damn! Add insult to injury, calling me a nigger... what the fuck!

"Look, we don't want any trouble, please... just walk away and nobody gets hurt... no harm, no foul, huh? I'll even forget what you said about the lady."

Jim reached behind and pushed me as far back as he could into the doorway. He whispered, "Are they coming? It's going to get very ugly in a minute."

Well, I thought, that's one way of saying it... 'Stay calm, girl,' I told myself... 'He knows what he's doing'. I sure as hell hoped so.

"Lady? Lady, my ass, you dumb fuckin' nigger lover. ...only good for one thing and we're the ones gonna give it to her.

Goddamn mud people, ruining our country. Bet you've been getting it. Does she moan or scream, huh? Maybe she's just quiet and takes it... Don't matter; she won't be doing anything when we're done. Right after we take care of your sorry white ass. We'll let her watch."

As far as I was concerned, things quickly went from bad to worse.

I started to believe that I was going to be violently raped and horribly killed by these animals while Jim, my one chance for happiness, was going to die watching them take me away.

The police were taking forever and there are three of them and if they got him down...

'God, where were the police?' I whispered into the phone, "Where are the police? There's going to be a horrible fight and someone is going to die."

"C'mon, fellas... look, I've got a little money... take the money and just go, please. Please, don't hurt us. C'mon, we weren't bothering anyone."

Jim did his best to look frightened, slumping down his shoulders trying to look smaller and vulnerable. He sure looked that way to me.

"Look, please... take our money... please... just leave us alone... look, I'm reaching into my pocket for the money, OK?"

He put out his left hand, palm forward and slowly reached into his right front pants pocket pulling out his wallet. "Look," he said, "see? Plenty of money... just let us go."

He took the money out and waved the bills around. Then he threw the money high into the air like so much New Year's confetti. With their attention on the paper floating around Jim moved in like a man possessed.

Kicking the first one in the groin as hard as he could with his shoe, which I found out later was steel-toed, he grabbed the man by the shirt, took away the knife and shoved him into the surprised one on the left.

He quickly pivoted around and put the heel of his palm into the third man's nose. I heard the crushing of cartilage as he pushed it up into his brain. Jim followed that with a tremendous kick to the stomach, knocking him back and down.

He threw the knife down into the bushes.

The man on the left, pushing his friend's body away, was trying to pull out a gun from his belt but before he could do anything else Jim moved into him, pushed his arm up and away from my direction and twisted it behind his back.

I could hear the sound of the skinhead's arm breaking with a sickening double crack and then he fell down screaming, a splintered bone sticking out of his bloody arm.

That was so totally gross!

Jim took the gun by the barrel and put it on the cement step. All three were now lying face down on the grass.

One looked like he was barely alive, his breathing erratic while the one with the shattered arm was screaming as noisily as he could until, finally, I guess, passing out from the pain.

The first man, who Jim figured was their leader, lay on the grass with his arms and legs pulled together, loudly moaning and holding his damaged groin with both hands. As hard as he kicked him, I didn't think he was ever going to use it again.

Jim walked over to the leader, leaned down and said something so softly that I couldn't hear it. Then he savagely kicked him in the ribs so hard that the skinhead's body left the ground by at least six inches, breaking several bones with another loud cracking noise.

Damn! I mean, Jesus Christ! He fucked those guys up! I'm glad he was on my side. Where he learned how to do that I didn't know but I was definitely going to find out. Who the hell knew... and then I remembered he was in the Marines.

He wasn't even breathing heavily... and then looked at me, asking with his expression if I was hurt. I knelt on the cement, my knees, legs and arms bruised from pushing against the cement and rough brown bricks, my wonderful little tight skirt ruined, my nylons ripped to shreds, my blouse stained red and brown from the bricks.

Honest to God, I was stunned. The entire incident that seemed to move so slowly had truly lasted just a few moments including that last angry kick to the ribs.

Finally, some tears began to form... I didn't want to cry but, well, what can I tell you. You'd probably be crying too.

I slowly stood up in the alcove and moved onto the grass. "What... what did you tell him?"

"Let's just say I reminded him of his manners and we didn't appreciate the discourtesy... and, he should study the English language better. I told him I would violently kill him if I ever saw him again out of prison."

He tore a piece of cloth from his shirt and dabbed my tears away.

We could finally hear the sirens in the distance coming closer.

We could have been dead by the time they showed up... my tax money at work.

"Finally," he said. Jim took his BlackBerry back and gave detailed directions to their location. Keeping one eye on the men, he put out his hand.

"Miss Kaylyn... Kaylyn? Listen to me... I'm so sorry, please, forgive me."

He held my face in both hands, almost forcing me to look at him. "...as long as we're together, I will die before I let anything happen to you. Please, believe me. I'm sorry, please, forgive me, please."

I looked at the three down on the ground then at Jim standing there, the BlackBerry in his hand and a very worried look on his face; I was still in shock and started to cry again. I didn't want to look weak but I had never been anywhere near people like this.

I wiped a few my tears away, holding the torn piece of cloth with my brick stained fingers and moved into his embrace, laying my head on his shoulder, seeking the warmth and protection he was offering.

"So," I said, "I still got the job?"

His only answer was to hold me tighter and wiping my tear-stained face.

I no longer felt afraid about anything, anyone or my new life with him. I told myself I'll do whatever he wants... whatever he wants... whatever he wants.

Sirens wailing, the police arrived in four cars followed by an SFFD ambulance. As the officers ran nearer they saw us embracing and three unmoving bodies face down on the ground.

Jimmy raised his hand waving them closer. I started calling him 'Jimmy' in my mind, now. A little familiarity made me feel better.

The sergeant, a robust black woman with a 'take-charge' attitude, took me to the side and questioned me about what happened, taking notes as we spoke.

She asked me if I had been alone and Jimmy came over to rescue me or if we were together. I told her we were just out walking and the three showed up and threatened to kill us.

Every so often, the officer would look over at Jimmy talking to another officer while others were now handcuffing the men on the ground and frisking for other weapons. They found a gun Jimmy had missed in his haste to comfort me.

The police quickly secured the scene and cordoned off the area with yellow crime tape establishing a wide perimeter around the group.

One paramedic covered the broken arm with a clean cloth, administered a painkiller, applied a tourniquet and put on a plastic inflatable splint.

The sergeant waved over the paramedics to check my condition, even while the men on the ground were still moaning into the grass. It seems she had an unbreakable 'victims first' rule and the paramedics had no trouble agreeing after seeing the skinheads lying there.

Worked for me, I'll tell you that. As far as I was concerned, the scum could rot on the grass.

All this time Jimmy's money had been moving across the grass, blown by the onshore breeze coming from the Pacific a few miles away.

I noticed he seemed strangely indifferent to the hundreds of dollars disappearing in the wind.

Talking to the police, Jimmy handed over what I figured was his identification; one officer took them to the car to check on her computer. She had a long conversation with her lieutenant on the radio, eventually came back and handed back his identification.

The sergeant who had been talking to me went over, spoke to the officers with Jimmy and compared notes. The one who had identified Jimmy indicated who he was and what he had done.

The sergeant looked from Jimmy, the white man to me, the black sister to the three skinheads moaning on the ground. Then she started laughing so hard she had to bend over and catch her breath.

She motioned to have the men rolled over onto their backs, causing more moaning from the arrested men.

She began to read them their rights.

"You are the dumbest mother-fuckers I've ever seen. You have the right to remain silent. I suggest that you use it, assholes. You have the right to an attorney. You're going to need one. You messed with a Marine officer, you dumb shits."

Marine officer? Now, that's something I did not know and he never mentioned it. I didn't know what was going on and that bothered me.

"If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed by the courts. Good luck on that one, a public defender. Screwing around with an American hero, no less."

American hero!??? Now I was really confused. Although I don't read the paper every day, I ought to know something about this and Kevin never said anything.

"You are so going to jail where there are plenty of brothers just waiting for you supremist assholes and when they find out you were messing with a pretty little sister... and I'm gonna make sure they find out, too.

You stupid fucks, you're lucky you're still alive. He could have killed you three just by looking at you.

You are SO fucked up it isn't even funny. Goddamn stupid skinheads...

I'm going to make sure that you are charged with assault, armed robbery, attempted rape and attempted murder. You're going to be in jail so long nobody will even remember who you were. You're going to be someone's bitch if you're lucky... and we're going to run those guns through the system..."

When she was finished talking to them, almost out of breath, she motioned the paramedics over. "Are you finished with the lady? We don't want anything to happen to her, do we?"

"No, sergeant... we're just about done with the oxygen... she was a little shaken up as you can imagine. We've cleaned her up best we could, what with the brick and cement scrapes and dust. Does her friend need anything?"

"Maybe a cigar and a shoeshine, I think he scuffed his up somehow. OK, see to these idiots. It looks like the crime scene is secure now and it's safe for you to enter. Thanks.

Hey, let's get some of this money up, guys, before it blows all the way to the bay."

Two of the officers began walking around picking up what bills they could see and returned with most of them. Several children were running away with money in their hands but they let them go, unwilling to chase them across the park, I guess. I wouldn't have bothered, either, to be honest about it.

By this time, the lieutenant had arrived. Taking in the scene, he walked over to speak with the sergeant. During their conversation, the sergeant gave an animated account of what had happened, her arms waving through the air, acting out each thing that had happened, every now and then pointing at Jimmy or me or one of those on the grass.