Chapter 03 - the Pickup
Pretty sure I'm here. Most of the other buildings are lights out, or at least soft night lights glowing. Not only do I believe this is it, my GPS agrees with me. On top of that, the lights inside that entrance way attracted my interest as well as showed me what Zar described her little hole she crawled into, looked like.
There's a component of my personality, that isn't far off from that of a little kid. More than one, the truth be told. Here, I'm looking forwards to just standing at the glass. Maybe tapping if I have to, but eliciting the response I would enjoy. That smile, that giddy display. If you're a member of the human race, you know that feeling. When you watch someone open the wrapped gift you're fairly certain is perfect, that warm feeling in your gut? Is all set to spread out and feel great. I live for that feeling.
So here I am. I went up those big steps, and across that cement landing. Big glass doors, and bright light spilling out from inside. I can now look in. She's asleep. I really do like her, and not just on some physical level, either. Though I admit, there's that as well.
Poor thing. She's not dressed for the weather. She's curled up in a fetal position. The body's natural position to try to retain heat. Her leather business satchel is her pillow. There's that little spot of slobber, she's not just pretending to be asleep. Oh, there's the aforementioned thick plastic security cover for the thermostat. I know she tried. There's a nail file and what appears to be a paper clip unbent, both hanging out until her next attempt.
That's my girl. I like Merry and her both for it. They were sports stars in college, so they're something less than helpless like most women around you appear to be in most situations. Merry's six foot tall, and this one is maybe five eleven in her stocking feet. They both had natural pro football player looking dads, that granted them their size.
Merry is thicker. Cut muscular legs that come natural to her, those big calf muscles. The bigger round shoulders a girl can have. Big hands and feet, as well. I like putting my hand up against hers, and seeing a good match. And her feet? Well, we share a long line of boots and shoes that are all men's size 12. She's a big girl, and I love her more for it.
This one sleeping is a size down. If Merry is a two extra large for sweatpants and hoodies like me, this one rides the line between extra large and two extra large. No small hands and feet by any stretch, but they're ten to ten and a half in men's. Me and Merry both sort of need extra large men's work gloves. This one can squeeze into large, though she's at home in our size almost as well.
Both of them are feminine, though even Merry herself will admit it quick. My best friend? Is prettier than I am. Maybe not to me, I don't operate on the usual guy one to ten scale. All men just about, arrive at the same to similar one to ten score when rating a girl. Where I differ, is that I assign extra points for height and athleticism. Most men subtract.
So in that way, I make Merry very comfortable. I'm that rare guy that sees her as pretty as she really is, with as pleasing of a shape as she does in fact possess. Her extra inch of height, her extra so many pounds of bone and muscle and size. Its all a big plus in my eyes, and I get that glow off of her for it. I make her feel pretty.
This sleeping form, is what most guys conjure up when they say... a big girl, and they don't mean fat. She doesn't look like much, but I know she weighs more than it would appear. Her defining feature, is no doubt those long lean legs. Compact muscle and sinew, not the big thigh muscles Merry sports in shorts. What did Merry tell me? Those legs, were made for dancing. She used to train to be a real dancer, and from a young age. Something happened though, and it got shifted over to sports.
Going fetal to retain body heat, she has her coat over her as best she can. Heels over by her purse, her bare feet are peeking out from under her insubstantial covers. I would guess she falls asleep shivering here, trying not to think about it. As much as it warms the cockles of my guts to stand here and drink in her sleeping form, I have to ruin this perfect moment. If I were an artist, I might want to oil paint this scene and I mean just as I see it now. Something about her condition, renders to appear as a cat curled up on a throw carpet.
If I didn't already know from her own lips that she was cold, I might let her sleep another hour or two. She looks that peaceful and calm. I want a better grade on my midterm marks, though.
I rapped on the glass. The second series of knuckle raps got her head lifting up and swiveling around. That confused asleep to waking look, followed by recognition. That's when I got my payoff. That big easy genuine smile. I tried the door, but it clonked to a sudden and sure stop. Locked. She shrugged and stretched before standing up and stretching some more, then twisting the little handle to unlock it. Her up on the balls of her feet for the stretching pose, somehow reminded me again of the contented cat.
I came in as she covered up and closed the door and locked it, as if throwing the latch was another molecule in her favor for shutting the outside cold to remain just that, outside. I guess it was another linear inch of door seam covered. Not anything by any stretch, but you take what you can get. I got that big excited hug I enjoy, once I was all the way in.
"I, am so happy to see you."
"Same here."
"Well, I'd show you around my digs, but... you seen it all. We leaving now?"
"That. We can, definitely."
She studied my face.
"And, why wouldn't we."
"I drove all night, honey."
"Oh. I didn't think of that one. You, okay to drive?"
"If I have to? I can. I'm a little wiped out, though. Snack foods and energy drinks, got me here. I really could use a couple hour break, maybe."
"Oh, yeah. Merry told me, you brought the truck. Well. Where do you want to take a nap, then."
I looked around the little vestibule.
"Here works. We're indoors. Warm, dry, serviceable."
"Its, really not that warm. When the wind blows? You can feel it, from around the glass doors. But, yeah. Take a nap, I understand."
"Mm. Hold that thought, honey. I'll be right back."
I jogged back with a garbage bag I opened, to produce my big reveal. Myself and Merry's own double size sleeping bag. You pay by how low of a temperature they claim the bag will keep you asleep all warm and cozy. This one was not at all cheap, I'll put it that way. I dropped it for the soft muted thunk its insulated bulk produced hitting the cold tile.
"Oh, my. And, aren't you just going to be all snug as a bug in a rug."
I had already started unrolling and going about it.
"Damn straight. You mind?"
I stopped in the middle of undoing my belt buckle. She shook her head, no.
"Its not like I haven't seen you in your boxers before, Panic. In fact? Seen you out of them, once or twice."
I giggled.
"Maybe, even three times."
She got out of her charcoal colored wool knee length skirt and suit jacket combo. I peeled the bag back, and she hopped in. I got hugged and held, and basically used to warm her up. I got contented noises out of her now.
"Ah. Okay, your nap? Can take as long as you want now, just so you know."
"Thanks. So, you approve of this big winter sleeping bag."
I got light laughter, for that one.
"Oh. You're a saint, this is a miracle. In my book, anyways."
That touched me, a warm emotional poke.
"Well. One miracle? Does not, a saint make. Actually, you were supposed to show three miracles, to get canonized."
"Pretty sure that doesn't mean, shot out of a cannon."
"No, little one. To be declared a saint, by the church? You typically, had to be recognized for three miracles."
She giggled more and she squeezed in for warmth.
"Fuck that. You're my saint? One miracle, all good. Saint Panic, can shut the hell up, and enjoy... sainthood, I guess."
"Well, I mean... you don't want me to even try?"
"What."
"Well. As fulfilling as your own personal sainthood might well be... I wanna meet the Catholic standard. To officially be called, Saint Panic? I need two more miracles."
"Panic? When I say it, that I love you... you know, both ways? You know what I mean."
"And, thank you."
"But... what kind of, two more miracles are we talking about, here."
"Well. When did you eat last."
"I raided the vending machine inside, but... real food? Not, recently."
"Oh, my. Now, I need your permission, of course."
"My permission? For what."
"To, leave the bag. I feel like I'm warming you up. You said, your feet were numb."
"They were. They are, but... what's the miracle."
I drew it out as long as I could, without being a complete dick.
"How, would you like... a hot, fresh, steak."
"Oh. Now? You're just being mean."
"You sure about that?"
I threw back the bag and recovered her. I was back in short order. Energy drinks, chilled. A three liter of soft drinks. And? My little tiny dual fuel vintage lantern. The flat top? Doubles as a cooking heat source. Her eyes followed me with what appeared to be carnal lust. My little folding aluminum frying pan. I had two vacuum sealed freezer bags. One contained two wild pig pork steaks, big ones. The other? Deer steaks. Both were cross section slices off of the thick part of the animal leg.
She seemed to love watching me do salt and pepper, then the lemon pepper later on. Maybe I burned an hour and a half, two hours of sleep time. But it seemed well worth it. I had raised her spirits quite high. I was once in the service and even more. Morale, is not to be taken light. I played it for all it was worth, after our late surprise dinner.
"You know what I could go for, right now?"
She giggled into me.
"Let me guess. A blowjob."
"Don't be that mean, honey. No, I wish I had a nightcap."
"Yeah, what kind. Glass of wine?"
"Mm. A half a glass of wine, yeah. Maybe two fingers, of that apricot surprise, that George makes. And, you know. A joint on top of it? Man, would that hit the spot. To go to sleep on, I mean. Couple hours, I'd wake up good."
"Now, you're teasing me. Guess I earned it, with the blowjob crack."
I got out once again, and returned with miracles.
Holy shit, Panic... I don't know how to..."
"Sorry. I only have the one glass."
"No, no. That's fine. Yeah. Give me... a couple swallows of that apricot."
We split a half a highball of the apricot brandy, then several fingers of the wine.
"Mm. That's not the sweet apple wine, I'm used to."
"Banana wine, dear. I made a five gallon batch, it went so good? I did a fifty-five gallon barrel of it."
"Banana wine, huh? Not bad."
"My apologies. Its supposed to sit, for another three months? To clarify up. The booze, was Merry's idea."
"Well, that was pure genius, whichever one of you thought of it. Good god, about all I could wish for now? A joint."
"Really..."
She squealed like a little girl. Yeah, we rolled and smoked a little pin joint, then settled in to talk and fall asleep.
"Honey? How long can we stay here."
"I don't know. The security guard, said it was fine for tonight. He apologized, for not letting me have the run of the building."
"When you think they kick us out of here."
"Mm. Would be early tomorrow, but I heard them. Shutting the building down, until the snow's over. Might not see anyone, tomorrow morning. If you wanna sleep in."
"Hmm. Do you know about, I have something to do? On the way back."
She sighed.
"Yeah, that. Find the missing guy. Merry told me."
"Yeah. Well, lets get a couple hours of nap time, while we still can. Tomorrow? I have to go start doing that."
I heard, or it might be more accurate to report that I felt it. A soft little "okay...", slobbered into my neck.
Last I knew, of that night.
I woke up to a combination, and too early. Poking and humming, combined with some dull reverberating thunking sound. Zar was shoving and making noise, as well as that damn clonking. Honest, I'm not a morning person. This, an abbreviated short nap when I need a whole night and more... its not helping. I finally sighed and tossed the covers back to get up. Zar covered her lack of dress quick, but I was unabashed. I stood up and stretched in my boxers.
Some older guy, at the glass doors. I raised my voice.
"Yeah."
"Who are you."
I just gave him the eyeball.
"Depends. On who you are."
"Panic? That's the security guard. He was nice to me, and let me stay here."
I twisted the barrel on the lock, and let him in. I ushered him in quick, and closed the door against the winter wind that had picked up this morning. I gave him my best military bearing.
"Thanks for letting Zar stay here. I appreciate it."
"Okay, but... who are you."
I gave him a couple seconds of eyeball.
"I'm the guy sent to pick her up, and see to her safety."
"Oh."
"So, do we have to leave now? Its fine."
"Uh, I only came, to see her. The building? Its.. closed, now."
"You need us out?"
"Well..."
I tried to use social engineering. I gave him my best fake smile, and my best hand on the shoulder. I'm trying to elicit fake warmth and understanding.
"Can I do this in stages?"
He was confused.
"What."
I pulled out my ID. I have an FBI consultant's ID, it hangs on one of those patented springy neck bands. I plopped it out, and held it out on its springs, for his benefit.
"Oh."
"Hey. Legal disclaimer, sir. I'm not, an FBI agent. Don't, report I said that, or you thought that. I'm just a lowly consultant. A cog in the machinery... like you."
"Okay."
"How long can I use this... entrance. Without pissing your boss off, that is."
"I just came by, to lock up. No big deal, really."
"Well, if we wanted another couple hours. Would that be a big deal?"
He squinted at my neck ID.
"Not really."
"I really would appreciate it. I had to drive all night, to get here, in this goddamn mess. Another couple hours, before we set off? Really would make my day. Does this, ruin your schedule, in any meaningful way."
"Oh, no. I was just coming to lock the doors, but... no big deal. I could do that, tomorrow morning."
"I'd appreciate it."
"Hey. No problem. It is, an emergency after all."
"Well, like I said. I appreciate that. And hey, while we mention it. Me, you... we're friends, right?"
"I, guess we would be. Why."
"Friends? Have a drink. Like you have any real work to do, uh."
I held out the apricot brandy in one hand, I had bent down to proffer it. I grabbed up the banana wine in the other. I held them both out.
"Oh, my. Well? Maybe, just one little taste."
I chuckled.
"Right. Its five o'clock? Somewhere."
Yeah, it ain't much past first light. Here, and all. He accepted. I went for frivolous fun.
"Uh, oh. Peer pressure. Do, you wanna hang out with the cool kids?"
I held out the apricot goodness. Its the camp property owner's signature best work.
"I mean, it is early, sir."
"Fuck that sir shit. I work for a living."
He grinned now.
"You were in the service."
I held out his apricot brandy drink.
"Could be."
"Well? What were you."
I noticed, he did take the proffered drink glass. I sat down, he sat down, Zar relaxed as well. We didn't have to leave so soon, after all.
"Long story, chief. Short story, though? I was para-rescue, if you know what that is."
He took an exploratory sip, to ascertain the quality of what I proffered.
"Don't rightly know what that is. I do, however? Know what this is. We're good."
"Para rescue? Easy. We parachute behind enemy lines, to get stranded pilots, and take care of the downed aircraft."
He was sitting down in the foyer now.
"You don't say. Sounds exciting, though."
"Yeah, it would. Never went on any missions for that, though."
"No?"
"Nah. The real action, was after I was out of the Air Force. I was a military contractor."
"Was that more exciting?"
"I? Would call that time, more... interesting. And, what about you."
"Army. Mechanized artillery. The 9th."
"Well. Tip my glass, son."
We touched highball glass to bottle. I'm really not drinking now, just wetting my lips to be social with my new buddy.
"All good. You deploy?"
He nodded, yes. I had to prod him.
"Sandbox?"
I got a sheepish grin, and the nodding head that said yes.
"Yeah, like that."
"Hey. Why you say it like that."
He stared at his apricot surprise.
"Its fine, sir."
I know that forced politeness. I use it my damn self.
"You don't wanna say, and that's all good. Of course, this ain't official, son. So, if you did wanna say it. No harm, no foul. Go for it."
"Ain't none of your concern, sir."
"No, it ain't. Of course, it ain't gonna go any further? Than us three, here. Sir? I've done... just, horrible things. In the service of my country. Things? Like, you couldn't believe. This girl here? She, knows about that. Now. Me, you? We'll never meet again. Unburden yourself."
He waited. Another pull on the apricot surprise bottle. He stared out, all antagonistic.
"I ain't no little bitch."
He took a swallow.
"I was Fallujah. There was this big, push. To Fallujah. Mechanized, vehicles. You get it."
"Yeah. I do."
"Its a pretty straightforward gig. I drive, for this shit show."
"You get IED's, I guess."
"No. Worse."
"What's worse, than explosives in the road."
He stared at me. Quite hard.
"Little children. In the road."
"Oh."
I meant for him not to have to further it. No luck. His face, his demeanor. All beyond business, and more.
"I can't run over, some little kid in the road."
I agreed.
"I could see that."
"Yeah, but.. not my lieutenant."
The way he said it? I was ready to quit.
"I stopped. I mean, I got a little boy at home. The fuck, you know? Anyway, they would stand a kid up in the road, to stop you."
I knew what was coming.
"Christ..."
The guy took a big pull of the apricot, and giggled.
"Hey. I objected. My lieutenant. He said... objection? Noted. Now pretty please, with sugar on top. And, he pointed. Go forwards."
Fuck.
He described it, the pop and bump of the little kid. And yeah, you could tell with no doubt about it. It had fucked him up.
I kinda felt bad, the next couple hours of sleep I got. A couple hours later, he was gone. Poor bastard. In a conflict, you expect some things. Bombs in the road, were a feature that took most by surprise. Which pothole was benign, and which had the high explosives.
But this isn't the first time I heard that particular tale. Forced to drive over little kids, that they stuck in the road to stop column progress. Men killing each other, over whatever nonsense the politicians come up with. That makes sense to most people. Not good sense, but still it adds up. Why put little toddlers to get run over in the road. Why make men with children of their own at home, drive over them. You'd think we could come up with a better way, but? Not so much.
My little lantern, cut the chill off this hard tiled sanctuary. Zar was up, and had her back up against the wall with her pillow behind her. She had wormed her feet under the covers, and onto my chest. I like tall strong girls, that much is true. But not just any of them. Pretty hair and face, feminine hands and feet. Nice skin. To me, feminine does not necessarily equate to small. How guys can do it, I don't know. Yeah, she's a cute girl. Oh, too tall. Eh, just went from an eight to a four.
Hey. More for me, right.
"You got your feet all warmed up?"
She nodded.
"Hate to do it, but... we should get moving."
Now she sighed, as well as nodding again.
"I know. This was nice."
"They do say, any port in a storm."
"Hmm. I wish this, port? Had a shower room."
"I do have the next best thing."
"Really."
I returned from the truck again, and tossed her a big pack of baby wipes.
"Here?"
"Well, why not. Its early, no one around. You get in that corner, the cameras inside won't see you. I'll make sure no one's coming, then you can play lookout for me."
She looked down at the insulated one piece work coveralls I handed her folded up.
"I thought that was for you."
"You need warm clothes."
She got into Merry's sweatpants and sweatshirt and T shirt, got into the white cotton athletic socks, and zipped up.
"Shoes?"
Wow. No matter how long you think and plan ahead, you'll always miss something. Here, it was shoes. Yeah, she looked silly all decked out in warm winter clothes, then you noticed the white socks with the heels.
"I look like a retard."
"Well, you look warm."
She glanced down at her feet, and back to me.
"Well, except for that. I was thinking you'd be in your hikers."
"I had them. Along with sensible clothes."
"Had?"
She palmed her face.
"Car got towed."
"Broke down?"
"Not that kind of towed. The parking police got me. I think maybe it was garbage day or something."
"You can't read the parking signs?"
"Not with all the snow piled up."
"Okay. Anything important in your car we need?"
She shoved her foot into her leather bag.
"The critical stuff, is all in there. Clothes, charging my phone... all things I imagined doing in my car."
"All right. No big deal."
A few phone calls, got me nowhere. I resorted to calling nine one one. I got some attitude, as a towed car wasn't an emergency. The plot I was given, was that the parking police had a contract. They just roam around, and flatbed cars away for anything. Fire hydrant, yellow curb, or private and posted parking stalls. The thing was, though. Now her car is in the fenced in impound yard. Can't just go and spring her car from car jail, either. They towed right up until the emergency got declared. Now, there's no one at the impound yard.
"The light came on, in my car. Well, its not a light anymore, its a message on the dash screen. That was on the drive here."
"It runs okay?"
"Seems to, but that made me nervous. Then, you put this snow on top of that..."
"Yeah, I can see where you'd rather get a ride. Its fine, you made the right choice. I'd rather come and get you here, than trying to find you frozen to death, in some snowdrift somewhere."
Screw it, then. We can handle the car when mother nature quits shitting white all over us. A couple bucks over the computer screen, a few phone calls. There's people that have a job driving cars between car lots. I can get any of them, to drive her car back. Those drivers don't relish the bus ride back home, but if you offer a coach plane ticket and put them up in a motel... it happens. I know this, only because one of the camp members owns a big new and used car lot.
"We should get moving, then. You all right to walk to the truck, in those heels?"
"These, are not heels, honey."
"No?"
"Heels, have the closed, pointed toe. Open or very little, around the heel. These, are open toed sling back pumps."
"How silly of me. And, what do you think about walking in a foot of snow, down cement steps, in... open toed sling back pumps."
"Would you like to see me in an ankle cast?"
"Well, easier to catch, that way."
"Uh huh. Let me get my arm around you, and go slow."
I warmed the truck up, and loaded everything up, save for us. I ended up carrying her over the threshold. Well, down the steps, at any rate. Now in the truck, I took stock.
"We good?"
"My socks are wet. My feet are numb again. But I'll live."
I told Merry I was leaving, I let her talk to Merry some on my phone while hers started charging. I touched base with JR, naturally. Zar ended up getting out of her coveralls once in the truck and warm. I got her a pair of dry socks, while hers dried on the defroster grate. She ended up with her back up against her passenger side door, and her feet on my lap. I tossed a spare T shirt down over them, and we started off.
Mike and Junior stopped short of promising me that I'd have some particulars I needed to work with. Such as but not limited to, make of vehicle. Description of who the hell I was even trying to locate. My destination, is more or less a zip code. I do have a pinpoint location of a little diner, though. The contact reported meeting there, before going off radar.
Off into the wild white yonder, we went.