Sparks - Cover

Sparks

Copyright© 2010 by black_coffee

Chapter 22

18:15 Saturday, July 20th, 1991

7914-B Arthur Street

Oakland, CA 94621

Sandy and Ben waited in the Gunny's kitchen while the sounds of showers and other preparations floated down the stairs.

Deb joined them in the kitchen, wearing a full-length formal black dress with short sleeves and a grey sash, with a short décolletage at the front and a scalloped back. A pearl stickpin rode over her left breast, and a small comb with seed pearls rested in her brown hair behind the left ear. Sandy made the introductions, then left Ben with Deb while she changed in the weight room upstairs.

Then it was Ben's turn to get ready. Deb gave Sandy an evaluating glance. With a light tone she asked, "Did you tell him about our arrangement?"

Sandy nodded, once, her face smooth. "The tailor's bill," she said simply.

Deb smiled. "We wouldn't ever do anything to take you two apart. The Admiral plans to make a similar offer to Ben."

Sandy hid her relief before Ben rejoined them in the kitchen, stiffly dressed in his uniform. He gave her a kiss, and said softly, "Us?"

Deb's laugh was clear, and she crossed the room to take his arm in a light hug. "Both of you, Ben. It was just bad timing with the tailors shipping the two uniforms on different days." Ben relaxed, and Deb impulsively reached up and kissed his cheek. Sandy just smiled at him.

All heads turned as Lenore came down the stairs, dressed in her light cream silk. In her hair she wore silk ribbons, worn to expose her neck. Deb's eyes shone when she saw Lenore. She glided across the floor, to kiss Lenore on the cheek. "Hello, Lenore," Deb said quietly. "I've wanted to meet you for some time now. Barbara sent this along for you to wear tonight." As she spoke she withdrew a single rope of six-millimeter pearls from her small black purse and motioned for Lenore to bend.

Lenore gasped, and began to protest. "No, no, I couldn't..."

Deb shushed the objections, and said, "Tonight, Lenore, it's more than just a dress-up occasion, more than just being a distraction for Dan to meet the Gunny. It's a pledge of friendship between two families. Dan and Kate have discussed a few things with Barbara and Harold. It's appropriate that we look our best on such occasions, don't you agree?" Deb closed the hasp on the pearls.

The Gunny's steps echoed down the stairs, and entered, the scarlet lining of the boatcloak swirling behind him.

"Wow," Lenore breathed.

"You look quite dashing, Gunny," Deb said. "You're even making me weak in the knees." The Gunny shot an amused half-smile in her direction.

Ben and Sandy traded glances. Whatever it is, at least Ben's as in the dark as I am.

The Gunny took the cloak off, apologetically. "It's warm," he said, and then with a small grin, "I'll put it back on for the grand entrance."

There came a sound of a horn from the street outside the driveway, and everyone filed out of the house.


As they approached the van, the driver had the passenger door open, and a small footstool down for the ladies. "All set sir?" he asked the Gunny.

Ben expected a witticism from the Gunny for the driver's 'sir'. Instead, the Gunny took a deep breath. In a low voice which only Ben and the driver could hear he said, "I should rather face a thousand deaths. Lead on."


19:35 Saturday, July 20th, 1991
The California Academy of Sciences
Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA

Howard Short hated the offseason. He loved his wife, however. The end of the offseason for him was the end of the 'black-tie' season, as he thought of the social maelstrom his wife put them through when he wasn't traveling for games on weekends. This was the third weekend in a row that he'd had the monkey suit on, and his smile was wearing thinner.

One more day with the family, then it was back to Anaheim to meet with the coaches and begin conditioning and strength practice. It'd be a relief. This last two weeks, things had gotten crazy. There was a robbery attempt at a liquor store in Oakland, and some people walked in the store, right into the middle of it. They'd kicked serious ass, in Howard's opinion, a redheaded girl in her late teens or early twenties clobbered one of them with what looked to be a soda bottle. The guy with her seriously fucked up the other robber while he stood there in shock. But what took the fucking cake was that the guy who broke up the robbery looked just like Howard Short.

That led to a media frenzy, which the soft-spoken Howard usually merely disliked, but really came to actively detest this offseason. Bad enough they played in LA and not in Oakland any longer, but the press couldn't seem to grasp the idea that Howard wasn't even related to whoever the guy was who'd done the world a favor and broken a lowlife scumbag's face and given his trauma surgeon the pleasure of stitching his face twenty-two times.
Consequently, he was unhappy, since his wife wanted to be seen by the Society reporter for the paper, and he wanted only to avoid that indignity.

Howard knew the stitch count, because one young female reporter seemed relentless in her pursuit of capturing Howard's remorse over the misfortune of the robbery suspect. She told him how many stitches had been required, while holding a microphone. Howard only laughed at her.

There was something of a slight disturbance in the crowd down at the other end of the hall, by the doors and coatroom. It wasn't excitement, per se, Howard thought, but more likely a new set of faces. Putting down his plate, which held a single cracker and a lonely cube of Jarlsberg cheese, he gathered his wife's elbow and steered her towards the entrance.

As he drew closer, he could see the source of the commotion. Two young soldiers flanked a gorgeous redhead in a cream dress. She was on the arm of a Marine, one in full dress uniform and with a cloak. Howard guessed it had been the cloak that drew all the attention. The male soldier, a private first class, Howard recognized, causing him to wonder what a PFC was doing with such a dress uniform, helped the Marine remove the cloak. On the Marine's sleeves were rockers and chevrons, and hash marks from the cuff to the elbow. She's got to be his daughter, Howard thought idly, about to turn away, but the sudden tightening of his wife's grip on his elbow froze him in place.

As Howard took another look at the couple, realization dawned. He looks just like the guy in that videotape of the liquor store holdup. And that's the girl. Howard began to stride forward.

From off to the left, the stuffy ex-Admiral that Howard's wife would have killed for an introduction to approached with his wife and another couple. Howard gave them an irritated glance, and then paused. The look on the face of the husband half of the other couple was murderous, his eyes locked on the Marine. Howard glanced again at the Marine, who watched the other man with a look of resigned determination. Seeing he had a few seconds, Howard stepped in front of the Marine.

"Hey, I see you don't have much time. You and I need to talk, but not where people can see us together. Find me tonight, after you deal with him."

The Marine blinked, and stopped looking through Howard, instead looking at him. The Marine showed no surprise, and simply nodded. "Aye aye, sir," he said.

Howard scooted out of the way, dragging his wife, who'd tried to dig in her heels. Sparing her a glance, he hissed, "Now is not the time. I'll get us introductions later, I promise." She still resisted, but he made a living out of moving heavier masses of bodies. He moved her this time too.

Howard watched the Admiral shake hands all around. The Admiral's wife dispensed kisses-to-cheeks. The man angry enough to do murder pulled his wife to a position in front of the Marine, and pointed to the hallway. Howard realized with a sinking feeling he'd been wrong. The redhead looked very like her father – the man who was seriously pissed at the Marine.


Dan stood outside the door in the hallway, tightly controlling his anger. Kate held his arm, looking worried, until Deb hurried up with a docent trailing her. The docent took one look at the situation, and opened the door, admonishing them to please keep the breakage down. The door led into a short lecture hall/screening room. Dan strode into the room as if he were a gladiator on the field of battle, beset by enemies on all sides.

As soon as the door shut, he whirled about, to face them all, studying each face in turn, lingering longest on Sandy and Lenore. He gave a hurt look to Kate, and barely spared a glance for the Admiral or the Gunny. "Am I a bull," he finally grated, "To be led about by a ring in his nose? Admired for his ferocity, but from a safe distance? Am I amusing to you all? Did you go through all this trouble to put me someplace where I wouldn't dare explode? No, none of you answer, I know it's true."

He looked disgusted. "I can see you're infatuated, Lenore. It may even develop into true love, the kind I share with your mother. But Lenore, how old is he? He's got to be as old as me. I think I might have twenty years left, if I'm careful about how I eat, and live life slow. I can tell you really care for him. I can tell all these people care for him, or we wouldn't have gone through all of this..." Dan paused, seeming to shrink a little as some of his anger left.
"I can see you're a Marine. And if what my brother told me about the Marines stuck in my head, what he told me before he died in nineteen-fucking-fifty-six, died in a fucking Marine Corps training accident, you're a Gunnery Sergeant, and probably a Master Gunnery Sergeant. I can see you've got, what, thirty-odd years in? And you've got to meet me this way?"

The Gunny sighed. "It's what the women wanted, not what I wanted. I love her beyond any reason or rhyme ... Every day I humbly thank my Maker for bringing her into my life, and I cherish every moment with her. I will not live without her." The sudden vehemence surprised everyone, even the Gunny himself.

Oh shit! I should do something. This looks like it could go badly. Her frustration boiling over, Sandy found herself between the two men, issuing an order. "Gunny, why don't you take Lenore out and dance with her. Deb, you take the Admiral's wife and dance with Ben, and Kate, you go get us all drinks. Take at least ten minutes."

The Admiral and Dan both stared at her. Sandy made shooing motions, and Barb, with a slight smile on her face, led the way out. Kate initially looked like she would stay, but followed the other women out. Ben gave her a smile of trust and support, which Sandy read as It's about time! He closed the door behind him. Oh God, I love that man.

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