Lost Moments

I

"Will you just place your bet all ready," complained Bob.

Stephen rubbed his face. "Yes please."

The new comer, Jay scratched his chest through his white tank and made an annoyed noise. He most definitely would not be revisiting this group again, at least not while Saul was playing. The four other men at the table couldn't very well blame him either- the man was ridiculously skittish for a poker player. "It is just poker," he stated leaning back in his chair. "No one here will cut you if you choose to fold."

Saul actually appeared to be sweating. "Then," he paused, glancing one last time at his hand. "I fold." He set his cards down.

"Finally," Luke murmured under his breath.

Bob laid out a wad of bills. "I'll meet you Jay and raise you fifty. Sheesh Saul- grow some balls my friend. It is after all just a friendly game."

Saul glanced nervously across the table at the new comer. Luke puffed on his cigar and rolled his eyes.

Jay leaned forward on his elbows, knowing that his body language was making Saul uncomfortable. He rather enjoyed making the man squirm. "I'll meet that," he said adding more bills. "And raise you yet another fifty."

Stephen whistled. "That puts the pot at two hundred dollars- too rich for my blood. The missus will have my neck if there's not enough petty cash for her manicure."

The third man tossed his cards down. "I'm out too."

Bob scratched his head. "I'll meet. Lay'em out then. What do you got?"

The cards were in Jay's favor.

"Newbie's luck!" roared Bob.

"He won again!" exclaimed Luke.

Jay smiled casually yet with a hint of satisfaction. "Gentleman," he then began as he collected his winnings. "it has been a real treat, but I do have to work in the morning."

Stephen checked the time on his wrist watch. "Yep, it's quitin' time for me too. The missus' feet will be itching." The group broke up.

Jay shrugged on his jacket and made for the back door of the little condo. The night air nipped at his skin through his thin tank, he zipped up the jacket. It was a lovely night all the same. Bob called "see you later" as he descended the back steps to walk the three blocks back to his apartment. For Jay this solitary pilgrimage was his favorite time: he could be alone with his thoughts and observe the shadows of the city. Tonight the dark forms asked after the man who nearly had the panic attack- Saul. Would he be good subject matter? Jay told them that the near panic attack expression would be an interesting painting. He kicked a can down the side walk.

He rounded a corner. Ahead of him a liquor store's neon sign twitched. To his left a diner was just closing up: two waitresses in striped uniforms were locking the front door. He made for the next street corner, preparing to round to the right. When he first heard the woman's yells he thought maybe it was a random television set turned up too high. The second and third cry was far too intense. He glanced backwards- one of the waitresses seemed to be swinging at some one. The individual over powered her and forced her down an alley. Without considering another thought Jay broke out into a run towards the alley.

"Help! Help!" screamed the woman in blind terror. The man was yanking at the buttons on her uniform. Jay saw the man backhand the woman across the face- she tumbled to the ground with a sickening thud. He was going to rape her! Such a white hot surge ran through Jay's veins at the sight that he had yanked the pervert away and knocked him square on the nose before he realized his actions. The man stumbled away. The woman lay unmoving. Gripping the man by his shirt collar, he punched again- blood sprayed from his nose. The pervert took a cheap shot towards Jay's groin. Attempting to deflect he lost his hold and the man sprinted away.

By this time an employee of the liquor store had arrived having heard the woman's screams. "Call 911!" he bellowed at him. "She's been attacked!" Having knelt next to her he attempted to gently examine her. Her dark hair was splayed over her face. In the dim light he could tell that her lip had been busted by her attacker. He moved her hair aside: she was a lovely woman. She moaned in pain. "Easy there love," he told her as she came to.

At first she gasped at him, frightened. Her green eyes blazed.

"No, no, easy! The police are on their way."

She closed her eyes and moaned again. "Why?" she choked out. He had no answer for her, and really what good response could he have? There was not any satisfactory explanation for such actions. Such a lovely woman, he thought again. "Hold me," she murmured, tears sliding out from under her lids. He cradled her head against his chest. Reaching down he discreetly held her blouse closed.

The police arrived and soon after an ambulance. The paramedics practically carried her away and sat her in the back of their vehicle to examine her. "No hospitals," he heard her command quietly. An officer questioned him about the incident: any particular markings, scars, or tattoos? What was the color of his clothing? Jay had gotten a pretty good look at the pervert and he gave a description. He couldn't help, but be a bit distracted. Surely that wasn't enough disinfectant for her lip and the gauze could be cleaner. Was that cut on her going to be tended to? The sudden urge to shove past the officer and see to her scrapes and bumps him self was nearly over whelming.

"Mr. King? Sir," came the officer's voice.

Jay blinked and refocused his eyes on the man's face. He glanced down at the badge. "Excuse me Office Winston," he said.

"You think you could come down to the station and speak with a sketch artist?"

There was a dry leaf tangled in her hair- someone needed to remove it. "Yes, I could do that. Tonight?"

"Yes. We can drive you home afterwards."

He nodded attempting not to look half as distracted as he mentally was. "Very well. Officer Winston what about the woman?"

"A roommate is coming for her at the station. Come on then, get in. Watch your head." As he climbed into the squad car he watched the woman do the same. He realized he hadn't even caught her name.