"You called a cop? Jazz, girl, what were you think?" Retro was
pacing 'the quad', the large central area where their group of street
performers did most of their busking. The sun gleamed off his fashionably
bald head, and caught the brass armband on his bare muscled arm. The
three days of sun had darkened his cinnamon brown skin, had tanned
all of them except Jazz, who flushed under her light sunburn.
"He's not just a cop, he's the guy's roommate. Blair said that he'd
be frantic, and he was, believe me." She shivered under her faded
Rainier U sweatshirt. "And pissed, too. But I didn't stay on for long,
and I made the call blocks away. I'll use a different pay-phone tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Cha-Cha shook her dark gypsy curls, blue lights glinting
from the raven waves. "You're gonna call back? Jazz, girlchik, that's nuts.
How do you know this cop isn't setting a trap for you?"
The smaller woman ran both hands over her short strawberry halo. "I
don't. He can't stake out every phone booth in Cascade, can he? I'll
pick a really bizarre, out of the way place, and beat feet out of there as
soon as I tell him Blair's still okay."
"That's another thing, this Blair of yours. He doesn't sound too dumb.
If he figures out where we live.." BeBop interrupted Retro's new speech.
"Jazz and I both decided to bring him back here, you guys. We owed
him."
"He's an OUTSIDER!" Cha-Cha put in, "we owe him nothing."
"We were all outsiders before we found each other, Chachi." Jazz
pointed out. "If we aren't willing to help someone in trouble, especially
someone who got into trouble helping us?" She let the thought trail off,
but they all got the point.
The gypsy girl made a face. "Chachi? Like Scott Baio?" and wrinkled
her tanned nose. "Please."
They all laughed, but the conversation was over. Blair would be cared
for as long as he needed help. There would be no repercussions for the
two that had brought him into their sanctuary.
pacing 'the quad', the large central area where their group of street
performers did most of their busking. The sun gleamed off his fashionably
bald head, and caught the brass armband on his bare muscled arm. The
three days of sun had darkened his cinnamon brown skin, had tanned
all of them except Jazz, who flushed under her light sunburn.
"He's not just a cop, he's the guy's roommate. Blair said that he'd
be frantic, and he was, believe me." She shivered under her faded
Rainier U sweatshirt. "And pissed, too. But I didn't stay on for long,
and I made the call blocks away. I'll use a different pay-phone tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Cha-Cha shook her dark gypsy curls, blue lights glinting
from the raven waves. "You're gonna call back? Jazz, girlchik, that's nuts.
How do you know this cop isn't setting a trap for you?"
The smaller woman ran both hands over her short strawberry halo. "I
don't. He can't stake out every phone booth in Cascade, can he? I'll
pick a really bizarre, out of the way place, and beat feet out of there as
soon as I tell him Blair's still okay."
"That's another thing, this Blair of yours. He doesn't sound too dumb.
If he figures out where we live.." BeBop interrupted Retro's new speech.
"Jazz and I both decided to bring him back here, you guys. We owed
him."
"He's an OUTSIDER!" Cha-Cha put in, "we owe him nothing."
"We were all outsiders before we found each other, Chachi." Jazz
pointed out. "If we aren't willing to help someone in trouble, especially
someone who got into trouble helping us?" She let the thought trail off,
but they all got the point.
The gypsy girl made a face. "Chachi? Like Scott Baio?" and wrinkled
her tanned nose. "Please."
They all laughed, but the conversation was over. Blair would be cared
for as long as he needed help. There would be no repercussions for the
two that had brought him into their sanctuary.