Vic Daniel 6 - As she rides by

you dressed up for this time, a luau? Where’s your ukelele?”
    “You also, of course,” I went on, ignoring the twerp, always a pleasure, “all know Miss Evonne Louise Shirley, who is here as a representative of the Los Angeles Board of Education.”
    “Hi, sweetie,” she said, giving me a loud smack on one cheek. “Sorry about the other morning.” I gave her a loud smack right back. She didn’t bother to wipe off her lipstick traces because she wasn’t wearing any. She was wearing a mannish suit, flats, and horn-rimmed glasses she’d borrowed somewhere and could hardly see through, and her usually flowing tresses were tied back in a severe bun. Still, she looked mighty delicious to me. She looked like Hollywood’s other idea of a librarian, which is when it disguises Virginia Mayo, say, in specs and a bun, and, boy, what a surprise when she takes them off and pulls out a couple of hairpins and she turns out to be gorgeous—who would have guessed, except everyone but Sonny Tufts.
    A minute later, Marv showed up, looking highly impressive in his state trooper’s uniform; hell, hunk that he was he’d look highly impressive in a fig leaf. Marv had to be introduced all around. Then Joe appeared from the kitchenette, looking a little nervous but mighty lak an Indian, too, I must say.
    “Oh, Jesus,” Sara muttered. “What next, General Custer?”
    “Joseph Half-Moon,” I said, introducing him to the assemblage. “A key figure in our resistance movement.”
    “How,” said Elroy.
    “You will find out,” I said.
    “No, not that how,” he said. “How as in hello, man, how’re you doing?”
    Joe looked at me worriedly. “It’s OK to talk now, Joe,” I told him. “Just shut up when the meeting starts.”
    “Oh,” he said. “In that case, I’m doin’ OK, chief, how’s by you?” He turned back to me. “Looked out back,” he said. “Dog’s OK.” I thanked him; I had King tied outside in the alley to get him out of the way.
    Then I said, “We’re still two short, folks, so feel free, mingle, chat, sit anywhere you want except those three in the front row, there we will want Joe, Mel, and Taffy.” A minute later everyone was chatting away merrily, Mel with Benny the Boy, Elroy with Joe, and me with my gal. Marv and the noodlehead got immediately engrossed in a serious discussion of haiku, whatever that is—some kind of Korean martial art, I think. I looked around at the festive atmosphere thinking maybe I should have provided cocktail snacks and a punch bowl after all.
    Some twenty minutes later Dr. Chandler made his appearance, with briefcase and fervent apologies for being late, and a minute after that Father Romero entered, a bag of apples in one hand and a second bag that turned out to contain Benny’s dicky in the other, and of course they had to be introduced all around. So it wasn’t until five-thirty that I managed to get everyone seated, correctly costumed and properly attentive, in the two rows of chairs in front of me. Well, all but Sara properly attentive, she was grimacing as in deep pain and scribbling away in a kid’s loose-leaf notebook and pursing her thin lips and sighing heavily from time to time; it gave one a deep angst just looking at her. It was a toss-up whether she was deep in the throes of adolescent creation or working out how much to stiff me for her part in the proceedings.
    “Folks,” I said, “King and I thank you for coming. We appreciate your help more than I can say.” Here Joseph Half-Moon nodded solemnly.
    “Anytime for my main man,” Elroy said.
    “Mine too,” Evonne said, batting her eyelashes.
    “What, after all, are friends for?” Mel declaimed rhetorically.
    “As you know,” I continued, “we are gathered here today for what I hope will be a truly moving and deeply satisfying experience of togetherness, of brotherhood and sisterhood, of simple, ordinary, Godfearing folk united in common cause, a cause that transcends our normal, day-to-day petty preoccupations, infantile prejudices, and unworthy rivalries. And that cause, brethern and cistern? To imbed the shaft, deeply and firmly, once and for all, into the greedy and greasy schemes of one Saul Gall, pornographer to the masses.”
    “A-men, brother!” intoned Marvelous Marv.
    ‘‘Rock on, Pops,” the twerp said without looking up.
    Pops rocked on.

Chapter Fourteen

    ‘Cause the federates flagged me down, then they tore up my old DeSoto,
    And two hours mas tarde found it