Chapter 1

I pulled my '74 Dodge Colt to the curb outside the apartment and parked in my usual spot. Setting the parking brake I exited and locked the doors. Walking around the front of the car, the wind picked up a swirl of snow and threw it in my face. "Damn!" I cursed softly, digging the gate key out of my pocket. "This is fucking California, fer Chrissake!!" It was an old-fashioned iron gate that used a skeleton key. It was 7:45AM, and 8-degrees out, and there was 8-9" of snow on the ground. The weathermen on the news said it was 'unusual' weather. Unusual? Hell - it was cold!!

I was just arriving home from working a midnight shift. I was a military cop, and last night I got stuck working the Main Gate after one of the younger airmen had cried about being cold. I was scheduled for patrol duties in a nice warm car, so I had not been dressed for an extended stint outside. I was pissed, I was still cold, even after a 35-minute drive in my car (that car used to cook me out - good heater). I unlocked the gate and started across the small courtyard to the outside steel stairs and landings leading to the upper floors.

The 'Apartments' were actually in an old three story house that had been converted to apartments a few of years ago. The first floor held the manager's three bedroom place, and a small two bedroom. The second floor was two two-bedroom apartments and a large storage room that was larger than my Studio. The third floor was three studios, a one bedroom and a small storeroom. I was on the third floor.

My neighbors were: 1st floor: the Manager and his wife, and an always drunk couple with two kids (I think they were on welfare - I never saw either gone long enough to actually work). 2nd Floor, Both apartments were occupied by near retirement age couples - both husbands still worked. 3rd Floor: The one bedroom was occupied by a couple of women who never seemed to like me as long as I was there (whether it was because I was military or just male, I never learned - Vietnam was only two years gone, and the area had quite a few militant feminists). I consciously tried to never be uncivil or rude to any neighbors and always had a smile and ready "Hi!" for all. They were at the front of the building - the stairs were at the back.

From the stairs, the first Studio was occupied by what I first thought of as an amazon (6'4" of female flesh. Great body, 'cute' if kind of plain face, and had to outweigh me by 15 pounds - with no fat.) named Cathy. I winced every time I passed her outside, as she had what I've always called the 'tall woman' disease: a permanent slouch to her stature. I've known some truly gorgeous women over the years who I personally thought looked like shit (sorry - but it's truth) because of a damned slouch to their posture. I was raised to believe and DO believe that posture is very important. But, Cathy is a whole other set of stories...

The 2nd apartment belonged to Maki, 4'8" to 9" tall. If she got on a scale soaking wet and turned more than 80-85lbs, I want to know whose thumb was on the scale. She was of mixed birth, her mother was and Army WAC who fell in love with and married a Chinese man she met in Taiwan. Maki was the result. Maki's arrival also killed her mother's career. In the early 60's, women in the military didn't have the options that came later. On returning home, Maki's mother found herself ostracized and ultimately disowned by her family as well. All because of her choice of husband and their child. They fooled them all, though. Both parents worked - different shifts, and both earned over $100,000 annually. They died in a freeway accident in 1973. Maki survived, spent 18-months in hospitals and rehabilitation. She was 13 when they died. She was 16 and just finishing junior high school not even a high school freshman yet, when I met her. At their deaths, her parents provided well for Maki.

Maki had multiple trust funds, including one that provided for all taxes and repairs to the 'family' home. There were very exacting wills for each of the parents. Everything had been covered, except one thing: the wills had failed to name a guardian for Maki. Under law, her Uncle - who despised her most of everyone in the family - was appointed executor of the wills and guardian of a 13-year- old comatose girl. She wasn't expected to live - she did.

The wills WERE specific to the point that Uncle couldn't dispose of the house or other property and had no access to the trust funds without justifying it to the family accountant - who was paid automatically by another trust fund. However, Maki would not finally inherit until she was 18. As her guardian, her Uncle had present control over the property and, by the time Maki was released from her last therapy facility and returned home, she found her family home converted to apartments. She also found that any requests for funds from her trusts had to first be approved by her Uncle before the accountant could release any money - State Laws.

As a minor (back then) she could not directly petition the courts to change the situation either. As her guardian, her Uncle was providing for her care by a) allowing her to live in the smallest Studio Apartment - rent free. b) giving her a small monthly allowance to buy her food and clothing needs with. c) giving a power of attorney to the apartment manager for Maki's school and medical needs. During her stay in the hospital and then the therapy clinics (all paid out of trust funds and family insurance policies) Maki's Uncle went to the hospital three times. Once to meet and talk to the doctors before he 'volunteered' to be Maki's guardian. Once to raise hell, after being informed she was going to live. The last time to drive her home, after her release, install her in her apartment and advise her that she was to deal only with the Apartments Manager. No matter her needs, wants or problems - she was under no circumstances to attempt direct contact. In the 14 months since that time, she had seen him once, when he came to talk to the building manager.

From her Father, Maki received her thick, glossy black hair, only the slightest cant to her eyes, her height and a slightly more yellow-brown skin tone. The rest of her features she got from her Mom. From the changeable hazel eyes, her eyebrows, button nose, full lips, cheek bones, and forehead to her jaw line were all American/European. I thought she was beautiful - not exotic - not sexy - not erotic. I simply always thought she was a lovely girl.

As I approached the bottom of the stairs, I saw Maki on the second floor landing, coming down. She was dressed in her usual faded jeans and sneakers. Her heavy cloth coat coming to her knees. In her hand was the old flap-over briefcase she used to carry her school things. With her scarf around her neck and the stocking cap on her head, her height and thinness made her look like a 12 or thirteen year old.

"Good morning, Maki," I said as I passed. "Have a good day at school." As usual, she didn't answer. She hadn't said one word to me since I'd moved in last November. Though, after the second week, she had started grinning when I spoke to her, and now she always looked me in the eye and smiled when I said my usual 'Hi!'. She was heading to the city Bus Stop. With bus changes, she would spend an hour getting to school. Looking at my watch I called after her, "It's going to be a cold ten minutes until the bus arrives. Stay bundled up and use that old tree to break the wind. Ya' hear?" I received a real surprise this morning. Instead of simply continuing - as she normally did, Maki raised her free hand in a wave. She didn't turn around, but she did raise her arm as she went out the gate.

I continued on to my apartment, the last studio on the right and let myself in. The next few hours were going to be rough. My military unit worked a rotating shift. We worked three swings (evening), followed by three Midnights, then three Day shifts, before getting three days off. Between shifts you had a 24 hour break. I had just finished my last Midnight and tomorrow I was to report at 6:15AM for a shift that started at 7:00. If I slept now, I would get no sleep tonight. So, I was up until at least 7:30 - 8:00 tonight. I started the coffee pot, put on soup to warm and headed for a hot shower - I was still cold.

An hour later, I was back out the door. Darla, a co-worker, and I had a standing appointment at 9:45, after the last Mid shift, for two hours of one-on-one competition at the base gym. We never knew what we would be doing, but we always did something. One week, weights, another trampoline, maybe medicine or dodge ball one week, and the next racquetball. Her favorite was basketball. I stand 5'11+" (never did quite reach that magic 6' mark) and have 34 inch arms. I've never really been 'fast' but I'm quick. Darla stands 5'5", with slightly short arms and she could run circles around me on a basketball court. Now, Racquetball was my turf. With my reach and attitude on the court I could have her running back and forth until she couldn't change directions fast enough. We both wanted warmer weather, for the pool, stables, outside track and tennis courts. Darla and I weren't romantic, and except for these rituals, we didn't hang out together. We were simply co-workers who enjoyed the sweaty activity as a way to pass the time. After the two hours and showers, we'd eat lunch at the dining hall and go our separate ways.

I returned to the apartment about 2:30 and ran into Brewster, the Manager. He asked about the next month's rent. It was Wednesday, I told him payday was Friday and I would have a check in his hands on Monday. He was happy. We made small talk for a few minutes, then he needed to get his 'old bones' out of the cold. He couldn't have been over 40. I headed up the stairs and on the second floor landing I met Cathy, who was heading out.

"Hello, Cathy," I greeted. "Brisk enough for you?"

"Brisk? I call this cold. I bet it's not 30 degrees."

"Radio said 27 as I drove in," I supplied. "Afternoon classes today?" She worked evenings and had a broken schedule of morning and afternoon classes as she part-timed her way through graduate school in art. She had a job in a local museum restoring and refurbishing old objects and furniture.

"No, I've got some books to return to the library, then I'm taking in a movie before I go to work. They've got a new Donald Sutherland movie out. Like to come?"

"I'm tempted, but sorry. We'll have to do something later. I have an appointment at 4:30 to look at a motorcycle. I know it seems silly in this weather, but if it is as good as he says it is, the price is too good to pass up. If I buy it, I'll park it at the Dormitory, on post, until the weather warms. How about if we look next week and see if there's any good movies out for next weekend?"

"I think I'd like that," she said with a smile. It was at that moment that Brenda and Sue, from the one-bedroom, came down the stairs on their way to work.

Cathy said hello to them and I said "Good afternoon, Ladies."

They each said "Hello, Cathy," then simply looked past me, ignoring my greeting, as they went down the stairs. I looked after them and shook my head for a moment before turning back to Cathy.

"Well, you'd better get moving if you don't want to miss the coming attractions."

"Yeah, I'm sorry they're always so rude to you."

"Hey, don't apologize for them. After two months, I'm getting used to it. But just because they choose to be rude, doesn't mean I will. Besides," I said with a smile. "It's getting to the point that I say hello as much to aggravate them as to be polite. If only for the fact that it seems to do just that."

Cathy laughed and said, "Well, it does seem to do that. Who knows, maybe one day they'll actually answer back."

"I'm not holding my breath."

"Be seeing you later, Ray."

"G'bye. Hope you enjoy the picture."

I made it through the day. It was 7:30 and I was finally pulling out the sofa bed. My uniforms were laid out for morning, the coffee pot was ready, my alarm was set, and I'd been up long enough. By 7:45 the bed was made and I was turning out the light.

I'd bought the motorcycle.

My eyes were open. I was awake. What woke me up? A quick look at the clock showed it was a little after 10:00. A glance to the kitchen window showed only street lighting, so it was still night. I heard a sob from next door - Maki's room, but that wasn't completely unusual. I'd heard her crying late at night a few times since I moved in. Considering how Brewster had described her situation, I wasn't surprised.

Rolling out of bed, I continued to listen as I moved to the kitchen. Then I heard it, another sob next door, a sound of running water, and a repeated slapping noise, before a softly distorted voice said, "... Oh, help me." Followed by more wet slapping sounds. I picked up my pants and pulled them on. Stepping to my secretary desk I retrieved my keys, then headed out the door. As soon as my bare feet hit the cement floor of the landing, and the cold wind blew through my T-shirt, I wished I'd grabbed at least a shirt and my shoes... but it was too late now. I was already out.

As I approached Maki's door I started getting that old 'hinkey' feeling. My arms started to feel lighter and kind of hollow as I got butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I began to automatically shift my weight to the balls of my feet bringing my balance point, my center of gravity, to a point centered over my feet and lower into my gut. I knew the feeling well. Nervousness, with a touch of fear. I got the same feeling when ever I had to respond to a fight at the Airman's Club or to someone's house for a domestic disturbance. It was preparation for entering an unknown, possibly dangerous situation. With it always came the thoughts: "What am I walking into?" "What will I/we be faced with this time?" "Is this the one where I get my ass kicked... or end up maimed?" I never worried about death. If I ended up dead, I had no worries. It was the idea of permanent crippling or having to spend months with my mouth wired shut or in body braces, learning to function again that scared me.

I listened at the door for a moment before knocking and calling out Maki's name. The slapping and sobbing noises from inside changed neither pitch, nor tempo. Placing my hand on the knob and turning, I found it unlocked. The door opened to the length of the security chain, then stopped. As it opened smoke started coming out near the top, through the crack in the door. I could see the end of the sofa bed... it was on fire. Putting my shoulder to the door, I pushed. The wooden jamb splintered where the security chain was attached and the door swung open.

Here, I must pause for just a moment to explain part of my personality. Because of the way I and my brothers (no sisters) were raised, possibly a little from genetics as well, we don't panic. The tenser the situation becomes, the calmer we appear to be. Through training and a little experience, I developed the habit of taking a bare moment, as I entered any unknown situation, to scan the scene and identify dangers or threats, decide, in that instant, just what I felt needed doing, and then move.

A quick pause in the door, showed me a lot. Maki's apartment was indeed small. The back left corner of the room was tightly enclosed by a floor length curtain. A compact shower stall and toilet were just visible through a gap. The rest of the back wall was kitchen. A sink, small refrigerator, short counter, cabinets and drawers lined the entire wall, save for a small window above the sink. a few feet from the counter, against the right wall was a small stove. Hinged to the wall beside it was a small fold up table and single dining chair. The remainder of the right wall was taken by two wardrobes, a small dresser and a students desk. There was a threadbare oriental style rug covering most of the central floor, The left wall held the sofa-bed, still folded as a sofa, burning on the near end. Beyond thant a single end table, and a small armchair. There were two old space heaters in the room. One in the center of the floor near the kitchen and a second next to the sofa. As I took it in, the near one threw a couple of sparks. 'Probably what started the fire, ' I thought. The front wall of the apartment was similar to mine, if shorter. Just the entry door and a picture window with a long low radiator beneath it. Maki was standing with her back to the door slapping at the flaming sofa with a wet blanket. Bits of burning and smoldering material were falling on the old rug and IT was starting to smolder.

Maki was dressed only in matching yellow bikini panties and matching Camisole T-shirt. Tense situation or not, I couldn't help noticing how her small ass cheeks were clenching under those tight panties as she swung that wet blanket. Thinking to myself, 'What are you doing, Ray?' I started to move.

My first move was to stop Maki before she spread any more fire. Taking her arms I turned her around and said, "Maki, stop!" It was a moment before she actually realized I was there. I pointed out the smoldering carpet and sent her for water saying, "You pour water on all the burning and smoky spots, I'll handle the sofa." Looking at the sofa, I saw that though the flames were localized, it was smoking throughout, and the flames were starting to bubble the paint on the walls. I quickly walked to the center of the sofa, beyond the flames, grabbed the bottom edge and pulled the whole thing away from the wall. Stepping to the large picture window I jerked down the curtains. Taking hold of the cord to the sparking heater I jerked it from the wall, then went back to the center of the sofa.

Again taking hold of the base of the sofa, and then reaching across the cushions to the back, I straightened, picking the whole thing up. I was keeping my face and body as far from the flames as I could, but I was feeling heat on my fingertips, under the sofa. Four quick steps, and I forced the burning end of the sofa through the glass picture window, and with a little extra leverage was able to launch the thing across the narrow landing. It landed on top of the handrail and teetered there for a moment before finally tipping out and falling to the courtyard below. As it tipped up, I saw flames across the entire underside of the enclosed 'bed' mattress. When I turned back into the room, Maki was standing halfway between the sink and the smoldering carpet, holding a full saucepan of water a look of stunned surprise on her face.

"Maki, the carpet," I said as I bent to take the offending heater by it's cord and sent it through the now broken window, and after the sofa. Maki was busy pouring water on the rug when I walked past her to the sink. A second large saucepan of water was in the bottom of the sink, apparently soaking. Taking it, I crossed to the wall where the paint had been turning brown and starting to bubble. Pouring the water over the area, it quickly cooled, becoming safe. What smoke had been in the room was disappearing with both the door open and the window broken out.

"Maki." She looked up. "I need you to stay here. Watch everything. If it looks like it is smoking, pour water on it. I'm going down to take care of the Sofa." She nodded and started to look around. "Maki," she turned back to me again. "Take a moment, right now, and get dressed. Put your coat on too, it's going to get very cold in here, right quick." She looked down at herself and I saw a blush work it's way up her throat as she turned away and moved to the wardrobes. I headed for the door.

Once outside, the cold hit me again. From the corner of my eye, there was movement. Turning, Cathy was standing in her doorway, wrapped in a robe. "It's okay now, Cathy. There was a little fire, but everything is safe now. You can go back to bed if you want."

"Can I help, Ray."

"No. Everything's done, it's all a matter of clean up now. Thanks for the offer, though." She smiled and went back inside, closing her door. I forgot about the glass and cut my feet twice getting to my apartment for shoes, shirt and Jacket. 'Smooth move, Exlax, ' I thought at myself while rinsing my cuts and hurriedly putting on band aids.

Dressed and back outside, I met both neighbors and Brewster on the stairway. Calming everyone, I briefly explained, then continued to the courtyard as Brewster made his way up to Maki's apartment... I knew where the garden hoses were kept.

Thirty minutes later, the sofa flipped twice and thoroughly soaked, I drained the hose and put it away, before heading back upstairs. I found the glass cleaned up and Maki's door was shut. Cardboard already covered the broken window and I could hear Brewster taping up a second layer inside. Calling out, I asked if he needed any help. "No, I'm just about finished here. I've already brought a twin mattress from the Storage room so she'll have a place to sleep. The glass is all cleaned up and I've rolled this old rug and will take it down with me. You go on back to bed, Ray. Thanks for your help."

"Sounds good to me. Good night Maki. Good night Brewster. See you all tomorrow." It was 11:15. I removed my shoes and cleaned the blood from them with a damp rag. My bloody socks went in the trash. Stripped to my underwear, my feet recleaned, I spread Watkin's petro-carbo salve over the cuts and taped on gauze pads. For added security, I wrapped both feet in stretch bandages to help hold the gauze pads in place. By midnight I had washed the smoke smell off and was back in bed.

I was awake again. The clock said 2:00. Still night. Again, something external had wakened me. I listened and heard nothing. There were no sounds from next door, nothing at the door or outside that I could detect. But something woke me up. I stood and got closer to the wall dividing my studio from Maki's and very faintly I heard crying. Pulling on my pants and jacket, I headed next door. I knew I couldn't put on my shoes, but the Ace bandages protected all but my toes from the cold.

At Maki's, I found the door cracked open an inch. Looking at the jamb, I saw I'd done more damage earlier than I'd thought. I knocked and called Maki's name through the crack. No answer. Putting my hands on the door, I pushed and heard whatever was propping it closed, squeal across the tile floor. As I came into the room, I found Maki, sitting on a grimy, stained mattress, her back to the wall, trying to huddle under her still wet blanket for warmth. The second thing I saw was my own breath.

Her dining chair had propped the door closed. I saw no sign of the second space heater. Putting my hand on the top of the installed radiator I found it ice cold. Maki was shivering quietly on the mattress, tears running down her face. Her position hadn't changed since I came through the door, she simply sat and watched me. She looked pitiful.

Walking to the mattress, I took the blanket from her shoulders. Her coat beneath was very damp, from the blanket. Reaching down, I put one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, scooping her from the makeshift bed and carrying her like a child to my apartment. Dropping her legs, she was forced to stand. I stripped off her damp coat and tossed it onto my armchair. Her shirt and pants were also slightly damp. I wrapped her in my blankets and placed her on the foot of the bed. Then moved to the bathroom and started the shower. Taking a handkerchief from a drawer, I placed it in my pocket as I moved to the kitchen. Filling my Poly Hot Pot with water I set it to heat. I plugged in my coffee pot, then headed back through the main room to the door. Each time I passed through the room, Maki silently watched me.

Back at Maki's I quickly went through her wardrobes, finding a complete change of clothing for her. I checked her bath-cubby for soap and shampoo, but found only a small sliver of soap - I left it. I almost forgot her sneakers, but they caught my eye as I made my way back out. Outside I pulled the folded kerchief from my pocket, unfolded it one step and held it against the door jamb closing the door over it. It wedged the door shut.

Maki looked like she hadn't moved, but her jeans and shirt were neatly folded on the arm chair. I hoped she was wearing her panties and T-shirt again, I hoped she wasn't naked. As I walked past her I said, "Leave the blankets and follow me, Maki." Walking to the short bathroom hallway, I retrieved a towel and wash cloth. I put my hand in the shower, checking the temperature, then turned to her. Maki was standing in the doorway in her yellow underwear. I had the impression she hadn't taken her eyes off me since I'd walked in the front door. Her expression was innocent, though I thought I did see something dancing behind her eyes.

"I would like you to take a shower," I started. She immediately took a step forward and started reaching for the hem of her top. Placing two fingers on the back of her wrist, I stopped the upward motion of her crossed arms, and continued. "You smell of smoke. You'll have to use my soap and shampoo, I couldn't find yours. When you are done, I'll have hot cocoa ready for you in the kitchen. Good for you?" She looked in my eyes for a minute, as if searching, then simply nodded. I walked past her, pulling the door closed behind me. Once in the short hallway, with the door closed, I had to stop and recover my equilibrium.

'What the hell?' I thought. 'Was she really that ready to strip in front of me? Did I really see a moments regret when I stopped her? I'd better be damned careful - I could end up in a whole world of shit here.' I didn't know for sure about California - I was a home grown Michigan boy. I did know that back home (at that time) 18 was legal. Sixteen was statutory rape. If anything happened, and it got out - even if there was no 'civil action' - the military would have me doing 5 years in a Federal Pen and then a dishonorable discharge. Such things I didn't need. I moved on to the kitchen, where I found the water in the hot pot boiling. The Percolator was still working. I prepared a cup of instant cocoa and placed it on the table. Then went into the main room and pulled my bedding off the mattress. Folding the bed back into a sofa, I wrapped a sheet around the cushions, and dropped a blanket and pillow on top. The remaining pillow went back to it's closet and the second blanket I folded and placed on the sofa's back - in case she needed it.

My studio was different from Maki's. Where hers was simply a plain rectangular room with things crammed in, Mine was close to being a small apartment. Only the fact that the main room and bed room were the same, classed it as a Studio. It had an actual bathroom down a four foot hallway. There was a full tub (granted, an old 40's claw foot, but it was a tub), a toilet, a sink and a medicine cabinet with mirror. One wall of the hallway was all closets, shelves and drawers.

There was a small kitchen, granted it was puny, but the 6' back wall was all cabinets, a sink under the window. There was an old Philco refrigerator and a 24" stove. There was even a small free-standing dining table and two chairs. Entry to the kitchen was through a 5' wide archway. A hanging curtain closed it off if necessary. In the main room, the Sofa made out into a full double bed. I had a large over-stuffed armchair in one corner, a Secretary Desk two end tables by the sofa, and a small wardrobe. Against the back wall, between the hallway and the kitchen arch, I had put in three six foot tall bookshelves. Where Maki's room was linoleum floored, front to back, my main room and the short hallway were wall to wall carpet. I had almost half-again as much space.

Even though Brewster had explained Maki's situation to me, I found it very hard to understand how family could do that to one another.

When Maki came out of the bathroom, she had her hair wrapped in a towel atop her head. She was again dressed in a muscle style T-shirt and bikini panties, in a matching light blue color. Everything else she carried and placed in the arm chair. When I'd looked in her apartment, I found she kept all of her underwear laid out in matching sets. Everything appeared to be Muscle-style T's or camisoles, and cotton bikini panties.

I hadn't dropped the alcove curtain so as she moved across to the arm chair, I sat at the table, and studied her over my coffee cup. With the towel holding her hair on top of her head, her long delicate neck was obvious. Though it took only five steps to cross the entire room, those five steps were mostly away from me. I had a great view of her bottom. She had what I would call a 'boys butt', though there was a slight flaring defining the transition from waist to hip. There was also a very definite female rotation to those cheeks as she walked. My pants felt a little tighter. When she turned to walk towards me, I received another surprise. Again in the panties. From her crotch to the waistband, from mid leg to mid leg, the panties were padded in appearance, puffing out from her skin. Along the elastic of both legs, black, curly hairs were visible. Apparently, this girl, this young woman, had one thick heavy bush. I'm a bush man, always have been - my pants were definitely tighter now, and the damned thing was in the wrong position, it hurt. Her top, like the one earlier, was loose hanging. Except for two little tent tips, I didn't notice any swelling in the chest area. Evidently, she was a flat top.