The Cove

Lilly," the huge black woman said, grinned wide, and pumped Sally's hand.

    "I'm Sally."

    "I know. Fuzz told me. Then Marvin told me. They said it looks like my Quinlan has got it real bad. He's never had it even mild before. This should be interesting. Hey, you aren't planning on having your way with him and then kissing him off, are you?"

    "Kiss him off? Kiss off James?"

    "What I mean is, you aren't married, are you? You're not just using my Quinlan just to take care of your needs?

    I hear he's a treat in bed, so that would make sense, even

    though I don't like it."

    "Actually, no, I'm not going to kiss him off," Sally said. She sipped at Mr. Fuzz's white wine. "I like your dress. It's magnificent."

    Ms. Lilly preened and pressed her huge arms against her even more impressive breasts. The resulting cleavage made Sally stare. She'd never seen so much outside of a Playboy magazine.

    "You like the white satin? So do I. I hear tell that a woman built along statuesque lines like I am isn't supposed to wear white, but hey, I like it. It makes me feel young and virginal. It makes me feel ready to go out and try a man for the first time.

    "Now, you just sit here and listen to my Quinlan. That's Stan Getz he's playing now. He makes old Stan sound like a sinful angel. Quinlan's good. You really listen now, and don't just think about having your way with him."

    "I'll listen good."

    Ms. Lilly patted her on the back, nearly sending her face into the glass of wine, and moved away like a ship under sail to a booth that was very near the stage.

    Quinlan began to play a sexy, weeping, slow blues song. It sounded like John Coltrane, but she couldn't be completely sure. It was still so new to her.

    She noticed for the first time that no one was talking. There was total quiet in the club. Everyone was focused on James.

    She watched at least four women get up and move closer to the stage. God, he played beautifully. His range was excellent, each note full and sweet, enough to break your heart. She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed. The song he was playing cried torrents, the notes sweeping lazily from a high register to low, deep notes that tore at the soul. His eyes were closed. His body was swaying slightly.

    She knew she loved him, but she wasn't about to admit it here and now, knowing that it was his damned music that was making her feel as mushy as the grits Noelle had tried to make for her once. Men in uniforms and men playing soul music-a potent combination.

    James spoke into the microphone. He said, "This one's for Sally. It's from John Coltrane's A Love Supreme."

    If she'd ever doubted what he felt about her, that damned song put an end to it. She gulped down Mr. Fuzz's white wine and her tears.

    Two more women moved closer to the stage, and Sally smiled.

    When James finished, he waved to her. Then he cleared his throat and called out, "I got a request for Charlie Parker."

    She listened, took a last sip of Mr. Fuzz's wine, and realized she had to go to the bathroom.

    She slipped out of her chair, looked at Fuzz the Bartender, who was pointing to an open door just beside the bar. She smiled and walked past him, saying, “Can I have another glass when I come out, Mr. Fuzz?''

    "You sure can, Sally. I'll have it waiting."

    When she came out of the unisex bathroom, she was smiling. She could hear James getting into his next song, one she recognized, a soft, searching song she hadn't realized was blues.

    Suddenly she knew she wasn't alone. She felt someone very close to her, just behind her. She heard breathing, a lot of soft breathing.

    The corridor was narrow. There hadn't been any other women in the bathroom. But that was silly. It had to be another woman, she thought on the edge of her brain, her attention on the song James was playing.

    But it wasn't a woman.

    It was Dr. Beadermeyer. There were two men standing just behind him. One of them was holding a needle in his hand.

    He took her arm with a lover's light grasp. It changed quickly enough. She felt her skin pulling and sinking in at the increasing pressure of his fingers.

    With his other hand, he grabbed her jaw to hold her still. He leaned over and lightly kissed her.

    "Hello, Sally. How lovely you look, my dear. You shouldn't be drinking, you know, it doesn't go well with the kind of drugs your body is used to. I watched you drinking that dreadful stuff. Why are you here? I assume that man up there making a fool of himself in this