The Coffee Shop Pt. 05

"When I find out who is responsible for this..." Andy began in a voice that could was so cold I was surprised there wasn't frost on the windows.

"You're not going to do a damn thing." I cut him off. "Not right now. You can't afford to even think about it. It was a very bad idea for you to be here and to hear this now. It should have waited until you were off duty and could see me as a private citizen. You can't afford to be distracted from your job and responsibilities right now."


Andy glared at me. He didn't say anything.

"You know I'm right, dear heart. Let it go for now. If you keep thinking about it, you'll be of no use to anyone. You have to let it go and let your brothers and sisters on The Force handle this. Do what you do best, what you've always done best. Help those you serve, and come home safe to me at the end of your shift," I said to him holding up my right hand.

Slowly Andy reached out and took my right hand in his left hand. The anger drained out of his face and a small fragile smile touched his lips. "You're right, damn, you. I don't like it, but you're right."

"I don't like it either, dear heart," I admitted. "Frankly, I suspect that whoever did this covered their tracks very well. I doubt that any proof will be found as to who was responsible. They knew enough about you and me to know that I would trust a message from you. They also made sure that help would arrive after they injured me. It is also clear that they wanted to push me into breaking up with you. Right now, I think we should leave things as they are. Whomever they are, they did not succeed. Next time it will be a lot harder, because I'm going to be on guard from now on."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Andy said. "And what do you mean by on guard?"

"It wasn't supposed to make you feel better, dear heart," I told him. "Nothing I can say right now is going to make either of us feel better. We're both angry, scared and frustrated. We each have to work through our feelings and master them. We can help each other. As for being on guard, I meant that I'm not going to trust things at face value anymore. For example, the next time I get a message that is supposedly from you, I'm going to check with you first before I act on it. I have to take some responsibility for this assault. If I hadn't been so blindly trusting, I would have smelled a rat."

"Yeah, I see your point. That's a hard way to learn that lesson though," Andy said shaking his head at me.

"I've learned it, believe me. Now, you big dope, get back to work and earn your pay," I said to him with a smile.

"Yes sir. I'll see you in a couple of days when I have some a day off," he answered smiling back at me. Andy left the room feeling a bit better, and focussed back on doing his job. I was thankful for that. What I didn't tell him was that I was sure nothing would come from the police investigation. Andy would realize that himself, if he didn't already know it. The men had been wearing disguises, and probably gloves too. Short of someone video taping my being beat up, there wasn't enough evidence to even begin a serious investigation. I was not at all happy to come to that realization, but it was the truth. I would have learn to live with it. Andy would have to as well.

I settled myself back into the hospital bed and tried to nap. The interview, as short as it was, had exhausted me. As I drifted off to sleep I realized that the only way I might find out who had assaulted me, was to mind scan everyone in the city until I came across someone who knew something about it. The only problem was that there were over 500,000 people living in this city, and I would have to have physical contact to scan each mind. Finding a needle in a haystack would have been child's play compared to that undertaking. I tossed the idea out of my head, and went to sleep. Sometimes even being gifted doesn't help.


Wednesday was uneventful. Nothing out of the routine happened, unless you count my being able to walk a bit easier that day, and not feeling so much pain from my body injuries. I suppose I should add that my intravenous (IV) needle and tubing was removed, much to my relief. I hated having that thing in my hand and having to drag around the IV stand with me when I went to the bathroom. My breathing was much improved as well. Thursday morning I woke up early and walked about my room for a few minutes. I wasn't unsteady on my feet, and joy of joys, I was able to use the bathroom without any serious difficulty. Mind you I was exhausted, sweaty and shaking when I crawled back into the bed afterwards. I guess that's why I had a late morning to early afternoon nap. My body wanted rest and it wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

I finally cracked my eyes open mid afternoon, when I heard a strange voice say, "Good afternoon, sir."

What I saw, when I opened my eyes, made me wish that I hadn't taken a nap. Standing at the foot of my hospital bed facing me, were two tall good looking male RCMP constables in full dress uniforms, known as the famous Scarlet Tunic. It was doubtful that either constable was female, to judge from the broad shoulders and narrow waist suggested by the uniforms. The two men were nearly the same height, which I estimated at about six feet, give or take an inch. The constable on the left was holding a long narrow box. (I had a pretty good idea what was in the box.) The other constable was standing nearby, holding his right hand at just above waist level. In his right gloved hand was a plain white envelope that looked to be about the size of a greeting card. The constables were too far away for me to examine their faces, so I made due with running my eyes over what I could see of their uniforms. On the tops of their heads were the signature brown Stetson hats of the RCMP dress uniform. (I had dated Andy long enough to know every detail of the RCMP dress uniform, even so my eyes devoured the site of the two handsome RCMP constables who stood at the foot of my hospital bed.)

Around their necks were the banded collars of the Scarlet Tunic, which were black and red with small gold crown crests on either side. Their broad chests were encased in the bright red tunic with its gold buttons down the front. At their waists were the expected brown leather gun belts, with their accompanying leather cross strap that cut diagonally across the chest from the left uniform shoulder flap down and across to right side of the gun belt. Nestled at the waist was the holster for the sidearm carried by each member of Canada's finest. The snow white lanyard, encircled the neck of their uniforms and continued down the front of the Scarlet Tunic ending at the butt end of the revolver holster. There was an occasional glint on the polished leather, from the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the open blinds, that provided an interesting sparkle to the constables' appearance. I looked downward past the tails of the Scarlet Tunic to see the expected dark uniform pants. I could see only a hit of the riding pants, because the foot of my bed cut off the rest of my view of the constables' uniforms. I knew from experience that those black riding breeches would have a gold stripe down the outside seam of each leg and would end in a pair of polished high brown boots.

My visual inspection of the two constables took only a few seconds. I blinked at them a few times as I composed my thoughts before speaking. It isn't every day that you wake up to see a couple of hunky RCMP constables in full dress uniforms standing by your bed. I strongly suspected that Andy had something to do with this. Whom else would have arranged something like this? I didn't know a lot about how the RCMP worked, but I was pretty sure that they did not send constables in dress uniforms, out to interview witnesses. "How may I help you constables?" I asked them, not bothering to hide the puzzlement in my voice. (I had my own ideas of how I might 'help' these constables, but I wasn't sure I had the strength for that right now. Wink. Wink.)

"I am Constable Sanders, and this is Constable Bender," said the constable standing on the right. "Are you Paul Walton?"

"Yes, I am Paul Walton, Constable Sanders," I answered cautiously, still wondering what they were doing in my hospital room, waking me up.


"Constable Anderson asked us to stop by and deliver a few things to you from him," said Constable Sanders. "He won't be able to visit you for several more days, and he didn't want you to worry. May we approach you?"

"I see," I said cautiously. "What proof do you offer that Constable Anderson sent you?"

"He gave me this card to give to you, " Constable Sanders said as he walked up the right side of my bed. Carefully he raised his right arm out towards me, holding an envelope in his gloved hand. I noticed that the brown leather uniform glove fit snugly on his hand.

I took the envelope and opened it. It was a cheerful get well card, and on the inside left panel of the card, was written a note. I recognized the handwriting as Andy's. The note said, "Hi Texas. I miss you. I'm sorry I can't be there to deliver my gifts in person, but I did do the next best thing. I sent you two handsome Constables to keep you company for a little while. They are friends of mine. I hope you enjoy their company, and the gifts I sent. See you in a day or two. Love, Andy."

I smiled as I read the note. It was definitely from Andy. He was such a sweet man. He certainly knew what type of delivery men I would enjoy. (Fedex and UPS eat your hearts out!) I looked up from the card and smiled at Constable Sanders. He was close enough now for me to get a good look at his face. He had an overall mature face that radiated authority and confidence. His eyes were a dark almost murky brown, set on either side of a strong firm nose. His nose sloped down at a slight sharp angle giving overall impression that you had to look up to him to make eye contact. His nose ended above a full and bushy black moustache, that completely hid his upper lip and was threatening to do so to his bottom lip as well. It was time for him to trim his moustache. (I wouldn't have minded doing that for him.) The moustache added to the overall appearance of his handsome face. A firm strong jaw line and chin add to the quiet power that seemed to radiate from him. Short black hair peeked out from between the lower rim of the Stetson hat and the medium sized ears that lay nearly flat on either side of his head. All in all, Constable Saunders struck me as a most handsome man.

"Yes, Andy did send you," I said pleasantly. "I hope you understand my doubting your statement. It is a little out of the ordinary to have RCMP constables deliver gifts to me."

"I understand your caution," Constable Sanders. "It was wise of you to ask for proof that we were doing what we claimed. Would you like to see the rest of your gifts?"

"Yes indeed, Constable," I said with a grin. "Bring them on!"

Constable Sanders looked at me with a small smile as he lifted up his left arm. He was holding a small shopping bag in his left hand. He grabbed the shopping bag with his right and upended the bag on the hospital bed. Several books tumbled out of the bag along with a couple of bags of Lindor chocolates. Andy knew that I had to have something to help me pass the time. I looked over the books and to my delight discovered that they were all ones that I had been planning to buy for myself.

"Thank you Constable Sanders, for taking the time to deliver these to me," I said. "Please, when you next see Andy, tell him 'thank you' for the books and chocolates."

"I will do that, sir," Constable Sanders replied. He was being polite but nothing more than that.


"My turn, I guess," said Constable Bender as he walked towards me. He walked over to the right side of the hospital bed and around Constable Sanders, until he was standing directly in front of me. He looked at me and carefully handled over the long thin box that he was holding. I looked down, took the box from Constable Bender and opened it. As I had expected there was an assortment of roses in the box. Red, yellow and white, with some small green ferns. I looked up at Constable Bender to thank him, and as I got a clear look at his face, I froze for a few moments, stunned at what greeted my eyes.

Constable Bender was cute beyond words! He had a baby face that looked so young and adorable that it made me wonder if he had just graduated from the academy yesterday. He had the boyish good looks that have been known to drive gay men out of their minds with desire. I was shocked silent by Constable Bender's good looks. I'm sure you've seen pictures of cute young men who have the 'apple pie' 'boy next door' 'fresh off the farm young farm boy' type of good looks. Constable Bender was all of these and more. He had short straight brown hair, from what little I could see of his head. Like Constable Sanders, most of Constable Bender's hair was hidden under that sexy Stetson he wore. His eyes were a haunting emerald green, that caught your attention and held it. They were eyes that were pleasant to gaze into. I'm sure many young women had enjoyed looking at this young Constable, and a few gay men too. You could count me among them. His nose was normal sized, and unremarkable. His lips were medium sized, neither thin nor thick but they were full. He had an engaging smile with straight white teeth. His chin was firm and his jaw straight and strong. His clean shaven appeared emphasized the boyishness of his over appearance. 'Did this Constable even need to shave?' I wondered to myself.

For all his youth and boyishness appearance this Constable made his presence known in the room. His height along with his overall physical fitness suggested that if you were to tangle with him, you would have your hands full. (Yes, that was a most appealing thought, tangling with this Constable. I suppose I was looking at him as more like a hunk of sexy fresh meat rather than as a man, a person, and a human being. That was wrong of me, but it was a genuine human reaction. Can you blame me? I think if you'd seen this Constable you would have had similar nasty thoughts, dear reader.)

"Thank you, Constable," I said once I had recovered my composure. "Please thank Andy for the flowers."

"Yeah, right. I'll uh....I'll mention it to him," the young Constable said reluctantly. Then to my surprise he blushed a bright red.

"What's the matter, Constable Bender?" I asked puzzled.

"Nothing," he quickly answered, sounding like he'd just as soon be out of the room.

"You blushed Constable Bender. Do I embarrass you in some way? If so, I apologize as it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable," I said sincerely. "Is there something I can do to put you more at ease?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you gays are all the same. You go ga-ga when you meet a real cop," Constable Bender said. "I saw how you looked at me just now. You were thinking of what it would feel like to hold me in your arms or something like that. It makes me uncomfortable. I'm not a piece of meat." Constable Bender shuddered as he spoke the last few words.

"I suppose that my thoughts were along those lines," I admitted. "Your good looks caught me by surprise. You must have realized that you are a striking figure of a man."

"Yes, I know that, but it doesn't give you the right to ogle me like a piece of prime rib in a butcher shop window," he replied a touch of heat in his voice.


"What more do you want me to do other than to offer you my sincere apology?" I asked him, confused at his rather strong reaction to my subtle (okay so it wasn't exactly subtle) ogling of him.

"I would like to leave," Constable Bender blurted out. "I'm not comfortable here at all." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he fidgeted. He most certainly was not comfortable at all.

"Please forgive Constable Bender," Constable Sanders said shooting a dirty look at Constable Bender. "He still has a lot to learn about dealing with the public. Constable Anderson asked us to drop of these gifts to you, and to spend a little time talking with you, and we shall carry out our assigned tasks to the best of our ability."

Constable Sanders was so stiff and formal in his pronouncement that I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I disliked the idea that Constable Sanders considered spending time talking with me to be a job, an obligation and nothing more. Talk about forcing yourself to have a good time. I wasn't expecting him to treat me like Andy would, but I was hoping that he'd at least enjoy talking with me. "Thank you again for delivering Andy's gifts to me. It was very kind of the two of you to dress up in your Scarlet Tunics merely to drop off a few books and flowers to me. I am sure that Andy must have asked you to put forth such an effort, and I want you to know that I do appreciate it," I said with my friendliest smile.

"Yeah, right. What is it with you gays and men in uniform, anyway?" Constable Bender said to me, the sneer clear in his voice, although he managed to keep it from showing on his face. Constable Sanders sent another warning shot at Constable Bender who chose to ignore it. Despite his cute charming and boyish good looks, Constable Bender was not what one would call gay friendly. An attitude was starting seep through the cracks of those boyish good looks of his, or maybe I was just starting to see past the good looks to the man behind them.

"I can only speak for myself, but I find a man in a uniform projects a more powerful masculine image, if you will, and that of course captures my attention," I answered calmly. Inside though I was starting to seethe. Constable Bender's anti-gay attitude, which he was making no effort to hide, was starting to annoy me. I didn't need to deal with one more anti-gay bigot. The three men who had beaten me up in the alleyway had more than filled my anti-gay quota for the year. "Perhaps it would be best if the two of you left now. I still tire easily." I was trying to give the two constables an easy way out. I didn't feel like engaging in a debate right now. It would ruin the good feelings that had been delivered with Andy's gifts.

"I'd like to ask you one question before we go. Just what does Andy see in a wimp like you anyway?" Constable Bender said in a puzzled voice. "You're not much to look at."

Constable Sanders was correct. Constable Bender still had a lot to learn about dealing with the public. His question was tactless, thoughtless, prying, snoopy, and out of line, way out of line.

"You'd have to ask Constable Anderson that question. I cannot speak for him," I said coolly, while still keeping a smile on my face. I knew when I was being insulted, but I was also smart enough not to rise to the bait that Constable Bender was dangling in front of me. He wanted a fight or to prove some type of a point with me, for some as of yet undetermined reason. I wasn't interested in obliging him. I would merely be polite with him, no matter how painful it was. These were Andy's friends, and whether or not I liked them, I had to treat them with common courtesy, even if such an effort was not reciprocated.

"Might I ask you a question, Mister Walton?" Constable Sanders said in that overly polite voice of his.

"Of course, although I cannot promise you that I will answer it," I replied.


"Constable Anderson informed me that you have used hypnosis to help him with his job stress. Is that true?" Constable Sanders asked.

Of all the questions that he could have asked, this was not one that I would have expected. Andy told me that he never talked about our sessions, which was fine with me. I respected his desire for privacy when it came to hypnosis, just as I did with any of my subjects. I found it odd that he would mention it to any of his friends on the force. I would think that it might make him seem weak to them, but maybe Constable Sanders was different. I didn't know all of Andy's friends, just had he didn't know all of mine. We were still finding out about each other.