Tailed

Although it was well past sundown, it was still steamy as Ray escorted Stella through the night.  It had been like a sauna today.  So hot that Ray risked exposing his knees to the world.  He hated his knobby knees.  Hated showing them.  But it was oppressively hot and humid.  He couldn’t stand the idea of wearing long pants on a night like tonight.  His T-shirt clung to his sweaty back.

Stella wore a barely-there slip of a yellow dress, little more than a nightgown.  It showed off her thin, willowy figure.  Ray knew for a fact that she wore not bra, and no panties.  It made him want to rush her to her place, so they could blast the AC and get twisted up among her crisp, white cotton sheets.

Something about this scenario, walking down the street with his girl on a summer night, made him feel sixteen again. In fact, he had come full circle, living at home with his ma once again.  Ray felt the buoyancy of youth, once more, in his heart and in his step.

He clutched Stella’s hand, even though it was making his palm a little sweaty.  They had just had a good meal at a trendy new place called Bricco’s.  They had sat on the outdoor patio and people-watched, mostly, talking quietly about this and that.  They ate light, both their appetites being overshadowed by thirst.  Ray had a pasta and chicken salad, and Stella had a Cobb Salad.  Mostly, they drank—Ray lemon seltzer and Stella iced tea.  At temperatures nearing 100 degrees this afternoon, they were both pretty dehydrated.

Ray had the sudden feeling he was being watched.  He turned his head sharply. Stopped.

“What?” Stella asked at Ray’s abruptness.

Ray studied the pedestrians behind them.  “Nothing,” he said.  Trying to shake the feeling, he moved on. He drew Stella closer. 

They turned right when they reached the corner, their destination, the cool haven of the movie theatre.  Ray turned his head slightly to the right, watching for a familiar figure in his peripheral vision. 

Yeah.  He was being followed. He was back about a block.  Ray sped up, tugging Stella along. 

Oblivious, Stella chatted about the movie they were about to see.  She told him, teasingly, that she thought both Jamie Foxx and Colin Farrell were hot.  That she’d take them both on at once any day of the week.  Ray chuckled.  That’s what he liked about Stella sometimes.  She thought like a dude. 

God, Stella was as tough as he was.  Last week, he got out of the station to take a walk, just to get away from the low-life scum that filtered through the station on a never-ending basis.  He’d gone to the deli and gotten himself a sub and a bottle of pop.  He’d then wandered down the street to the courthouse, and watched Stella try a case.  She looked severe, formidable in her black pants suit with its starched white collar.  He had listened to her opening statement; she had no qualms about going right for the jugular.  Even so, he couldn’t help but feel protective of her.

Ray turned his head to the left, pretending to study a store-front across the street.  He picked him up again; Ray’s shadow moved closer.  Ray squeezed Stella’s hand.  “Let’s cut through the alley,” he said quietly, interrupting her musings on the virtues of a good buddy-cop movie.

She looked at him questioningly, resisting as he tugged her toward the dark, unsavory-looking alley.  “You sure?” she asked.

“Its fine,” he assured.  “Nothing’s going to happen. I got you.”

She went along.  They were quiet as they hurried through.  A bum slept peacefully behind a Dempsey Dumpster. 

Stella sensed Ray’s urgency through the hand that still clung to hers.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. 

Ray couldn’t help but glance behind him as he answered, “Yeah, yeah.”

Stella followed his gaze, and back at him. 

“Everything’s fine,” he said.  “There was a crowd up ahead,” he excused.  “I didn’t feel like fighting through it, that’s all.”

“Huh,” she said.  But let the matter drop.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her slim boney shoulders.  Stella smelled like honeysuckle.  “Come on,” he said.  “I don’t wanna miss the beginning.” 

He urged her along, feeling the beginnings of worry tug at his mind.