Raw Deal

by Bella Knight

  They came back in time for dinner; bruised, scraped, bloody, and laughing like loons. The cookout was epic. The local Veterans of Foreign Wars kept coming out to meet the soldiers, and the bonfires were all across the beach. Families who had been walking down the beach didn't seem fazed by the bikers and soldiers strewn across the beach, and brought fish, chicken, and pork to grill out, all from local grocery stores.

  They set up camp chairs or sat on logs or the sand, and passed down sticks of meat with tomatoes and mushrooms, and bell peppers. They cleaned up, went to the corner stores, and came back with cases of ice cream bars and sandwiches, and passed them around. They made s'mores, and beat drums, piped pipes, and danced wild dances. The families left, the whiskey and beer came out along with sodas, and they sang songs, and kept the drums going. They pitched the tents, and played well into the night.

  The soldiers around their campfire had their own demonstration. Danger described the "new dating" with Reeves: Asking someone out for coffee. They went into the first rule of dating.

  Danger said, “Never bring a firearm to a date.” Danger mimed attacking a coffee machine for its loud noises with a .45, making everyone laugh.

  They also discussed “Asking People Out.” "Do you want to go out for coffee?" versus "Do you want to fuck me?" making everyone laugh again.

  Reeves failed to ask Danger out, asking everything except asking him out on a date. The audience roared out suggestions for how to ask someone out, from the silly, to the risqué, to the horrible. Then, Spear attempted to ask Reeves out, and Reeves had to handle an opposite-sex come-on, having to say "no" without vomiting or saying "Eww." Those suggestions got even more comments from the peanut gallery on how to handle it. Other dating rules included, "What color condoms to bring?" and "How to ask someone to binge-watch television with you." Then, "How to say ‘no’ without sounding insane," and "Obsession, the opposite of ghosting: avoid both." They showed how to lighten up the PTSD discussion with a new partner by speaking about it in a Shakespearean way, with a lot of "Doth thou...?" comments. It was bizarre, and funny, and several people resolved to try this technique.

  In the morning, they decided not to go back to Vegas, but headed down to San Diego. They split up and went to Balboa Park, the zoo, the safari park, and the aquarium. They met for dinner, a huge affair at an Italian restaurant. They passed around cannelloni, spaghetti, tortellini, three kinds of pizza, and pitchers of cola and bottles of Chianti.

  They went to a string of beach hotels, checked in, and, as one, went out to watch the sun set. David and Numa sang the sun down, their voices merging. They sat on the beach in a long line. They started the fires. At each fire; one by one, they came up and told stories, funny ones, sad ones, tragic, and comedy. The soldiers talked about people they'd known; the cops and firefighters the same. The Valkyries told stories of the road, and of fighting. The Nighthawks had stories of the road, Native stories about the trickster Coyote, a nice counterpoint to the stories of the laughing god, Murphy. The stories were stunning, fascinating, funny, and heartbreaking. They passed around drinks, and relaxed. The laughter was calm, safe, comfortable.

  Xenia, Bob and Herja told the hair-raising story of the shooting at the diner by an ex-cop Bob had tried to mentor. And about friends gunned down. They told about their PTSD, but how it got less with talk, medication, and time. They talked about rebuilding the coffee shop; the new owners, and how the old owners went to Lebanon and opened a sweets shop. They discussed how it served to remind them that people could, and did, move past the horror, and into a new life.

  "The thing is," said Xenia, "It's like an overlay. But three scenes, not two. The first one, where we were laughing with Francine, she poured us coffee. The second with all the blood and gunpowder in my nose, taking shots. I wasn't sure if I would hit anyone… or the wrong person, trying to stop the bleeding of someone, anyone. The third with the new place, a little girl reading, her mama telling her to re-check her math. And then the same smells of coffee, and pancakes, and syrup. Before-during-after, shuffled back and forth. And, I can't control the shuffling. I keep shuffling forward, to the now, hoping that's enough."

  Another ex-soldier said, "I was walking down a street. The desert smelled like dusty cinnamon and the tang of gunpowder, tobacco, tea. Lots of tea. We walked down a street, then a little girl turned into a building. How the mother came rushing out of that building, daughter in her arms, how the man followed his wife down the street, a bloody knife in his hand. We disarmed him, got the kid and her mom to a hospital, then got them relocated. I should have shot him. ‘Boom,’ no more abusive guy. But, there'd been a shooting of a shop owner earlier that week, which created a mess. We were ordered not to use lethal force if we didn't have to. We turned him over to the civilian authorities. He ended up shot anyway, by his sister's husband. He tried to kill her again. The girl survived, he didn't." She sighed. "The next damn day, I lost Rifle and Warrant, and my damn foot." She sighed. "I'd give my foot back to get them back."

  "So would we all," said Xenia. "So would we all." They drank to the fallen, then, the Valkyries ululating cry began piercing the darkness, and then some of them slept. The rest told stories until dawn.

  On the ride back, they used back roads, curvy roads that the Harleys loved. They found coffee shops and filled them up, ate BLTs and grilled cheese sandwiches, and plates full of fries. They rode through until dusk, then pulled over to watch the sun come down. They decided to keep riding through the dark, and were glad they did. They went over the hill and saw the lights of the city, laid out like a thousand glittery jewels against the night. The Valkyries went into the desert to pitch tents, the Iron Knights went home, and the Nighthawks went to Henry's farm. Each group slept the sleep of the exhausted, smoothing out the dreams of fear, pain, and of rage.

  At the same time the bikers went on their ride, the women and children made it to the pier in a giant economy van. Ivy parked, and the women hopped out. "Let's go!" said Ivy. "Our boat awaits."

  Katya laughed. "They will wait for us, I think. We have suites with ocean views, no?"

  Callie popped open one stroller, then another. They helped each other take the babies out, and then put them in the strollers. Callie ran over with a baggage cart, and filled it up. Katya did some jiggling and juggling, and passed out snacks, and they all got into their strollers. Callie checked out the van to make sure they had everything, and that it was locked, and pushed the baggage cart. The Pixies followed the parade of women and strollers; laughing, dragging their own suitcases on rollers behind them. The cruise line representative rushed out to meet them, checked their IDs and everyone off the list, and sent a purser to take their luggage to the staterooms. They followed, and settled in. The Pixies were delighted to get a bedroom together, and dressed in their best princess dresses. A pretty princess came to take them to the Coketail Party, and they went, laughing and singing, through the hallways.

  Three young women came to watch the babies, and Ivy, Callie, Inola, Bella, and Katya went to the cocktail party. They danced and partied, then went to pick up the girls. The girls threw them out, because they were getting makeovers; hair and nails, in a “special girls' salon.” So, they danced some more, and laughed. They saw a show, with some amazing singing and dancing. They swung back to pick up the Pixies again, and lured them back with a movie, popcorn, and bags of M&Ms. Callie took pixie duty, and the other ladies sent the babysitter home and watched their own movie.

  Callie came in to switch places with someone, and found only Ivy still awake, rocking out on her headphones. They danced together in the space in front of the girls' door, making them giggle. They shut the door when their dance turned serious.

  Ivy led her wife to their double bed, and they spent so much time kissing that Callie began to laugh. "It helps if we actually take our clothes off," she said. They took off their cocktail dresses, hung them up, and hung their slips up, too.

  Ivy popped the top on the complimentary champagne, and Callie giggle
d as she jumped. Ivy poured the glasses. She called room service, and they began kissing again. The fruit and chocolate plate arrived. Ivy put her slip back on and ran out; disheveled, and signed for it, then carried it in. Ivy took her slip back off, and slipped into bed. They fed each other the fondue. Ivy drizzled chocolate on Callie's belly, making her gasp. Ivy licked it off, then Callie drizzled chocolate on Ivy's hand, then licked her fingers, one by one. They took turns eating fruit off each other, then Ivy crawled between Callie's legs, making her come, again and again with flicks of her tongue and fingers. Callie laid there, basking in the aftershocks, while Ivy put the empty plate and pot of chocolate by the door. Callie grabbed her arm, pulled her onto the bed, grabbed her knee, and swung her around. She did the same to Ivy with her own fingers, making her come, and come again. They stumbled into the shower, bathed, and made it into bed.

  The babies were up early. They got breakfast, dropped off the girls at the archery contest, and ended up at the baby gym. The babies loved playing, and the attendants squealed at all the beautiful babies and kicked out the moms. The ladies ended up at the pool. Katya ended up on pixie duty, and checked on them. She found them at the rock wall, and was assured that they would be having pool time, a dancing class, and a video game hour, for relaxation. Katya reported back in with the women, and they all went for spa treatments. Katya had the mud wrap, Callie and Ivy hers-and-hers massages, and Inola and Bella had facials.

  They met in the resting room, drank lime water, and switched treatments. They picked up the girls, had an amazing lunch, dropped them off for the limbo contest, then went to pick up the tots. They slathered them with sunscreen and took them to the baby pool. They picked up the girls and went back for naps, then they left the tots at the baby center and saw an acrobatic show with the girls. Then it was time for dinner and another Coketail Party for the girls; cocktails for the women. They danced, then Callie moved the girls from the Coketail Party to a princess party, followed by movie night.

  Ivy, Callie, and Bella all loved dancing, but Katya and Inola wanted to relax. They went to the pool and floated, then swam up to the bar.

  Bella came to join them. "Ivy and Callie are gonna dance me under the table," she said. She stole her wife, dragging her into the Jacuzzi with her.

  Katya missed her husband, but decided that she was alright. She had a babysitter follow her with the babies. She got them all fed and to sleep, and sent the young woman away. She bedded down, the little ones in cribs all around her. She read a book, and soon slept.

  The ladies took turns cuddling babies, and in watching the Pixies light up, and hearing their stories of ziplining and whale-watching. They all crowded at the windows to watch a pod of dolphins go by. They left the babies at Tot Camp and took the Pixies to a movie and then dancing. Then, they all rotated again.

  Soon, it was time to go, and they were ready. They were escorted by a very kind baggage handler to the rental van. They loaded up, and were sent on their way. The Pixies, babies, and adults slept, except for Callie, who drove. She listened to an audiobook, and laughed her head off. They met up with the returning Nighthawks in Barstow, ate a ton of food at a coffee shop. The Pixies described every move they made to Gregory, Ace, and Henry. And soon they were riding home, with the lights of Vegas spread out against the night, just like rainbow stars. They arrived at Henry's house, set up the cribs, rolled out the sleeping bags, and slept the sleep of home.

  "Little ones are the most precious things in the universe... but raising them is the hardest job there is."

  5

  Run

  "A woman scorned is the most dangerous creature on the planet."

  In Pahrump, Ajai and Herja cornered Xenia at a convenience store just out of town. "We've got a case," said Herja.

  "What case?" asked Xenia, reaching for two honey lemon teas and a cherry water. The weather was warming up, and she needed to stay awake.

  "Girl got herself scammed," said Herja. "Not one of us, sister of one of ours. Jeanette Wilson, in Crystal, Nevada. She found herself an asshole on a dating site, and checked him out on social media. Didn't do a background check. He took her for nine thousand dollars, and stole her truck, then another couple thousand. Turns out his name and profile aren't real."

  Xenia paid for her drinks. "Happens," she said.

  "Found data that makes us think he's done it before," said Ajai.

  Xenia turned toward her, interested. "Show me your data." Ajai handed it over.

  Ajai said, "I used facial recognition software. The lady in question took some pics of him, despite his growling about not wanting his picture taken. I found him on six other sites, including some closed accounts, with different names, different profiles, all around the same age profile."

  "Says he's someone with money," said Herja. "Owns a small accounting business. A stockbroker, real estate broker, the kind of thing you can work from home and fake. He uses the money and things he stole from the last mark to charm the next one, and to buy her small but expensive gifts he's stolen."

  "The watch he gave her, he stole from a woman named Tricia Pacer, from Victorville. He's worked his way from LA, and across the desert to here. We need to nail him before he gets too far out." Ajai scrolled through the pictures.

  "Is he here?" asked Xenia, looking at a bad boy, with blonde surfer hair, blue eyes, a narrow nose, and thin lips. He'd been dark-haired in Victorville, with longer brown hair in Barstow, and blonde and shorter hair in Halloran Springs. "Asshole is taking the 15."

  "He's here," said Ajai. She pulled up a current picture. A blonde, surfer cut, longish on top, wire-rimmed glasses. "He's lonely, and looking for love," she said, in a voice dripping with acid.

  "I think one of us needs a date, and we need to take out our braids for the op," said Herja smiling.

  "No, not one of us," said Xenia. "We're all too hard-edged to be believable. But Connie, our dispatcher, the sweet and loving woman that she is; it could work."

  Skuld snorted. Connie Blanchard wasn't sweet or loving. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face and wore summer dresses that made the men swoon, and wore leggings and long-sleeved shirts under them in winter. She had little, blue, cowboy boots, and blonde hair, and the bluest summer-sky eyes. She could also drink a man under the table and arm-wrestle him to boot. She was a rancher's daughter with a shotgun and a .44 in her truck and desk, respectively.

  "She'd take him in, and get him all hot and bothered, and her daddy did give her some quite expensive things over the years," said Skuld.

  "Let's go talk to her," said Xenia, a gleam in her eyes. "She'd love to be doing something fun like this."

  They converged on Xenia's office. Xenia led the women to her desk, and gave Connie a cinnamon coffee and a sticky bun from Ray's. Ajai showed the pics, and Xenia made the pitch.

  "You'd wear a wire, and we'd get him just down the road a tad. Scare him with something, cut this thing short."

  "We'll also need his prints," said Skuld. "Find out who he really is."

  Connie narrowed her eyes. "He can't know what I do. It will scare him silly."

  "What about your hobbies? Meetups?"

  Connie stared into space. "Church stuff will bore this bad boy to tears, and Habitat for Humanity will make him run for the hills at doing actual work. That leaves hiking and photography."

  "Or both," said Xenia, pointing at the perfect photo of a flowering cactus on Connie's desk.

  "That could work," said Connie. "But he has to steal some of my stuff. I know these cases. Women afraid to testify, afraid to look stupid. He might even have pictures of 'em in the buff, and threaten to release them. He has to steal something of mine with a high enough dollar amount to put him away, real-good. Like my lenses, and I've got some antique cameras. And the stuff my daddy gave me. Be worth a lot, I think."

  "Over ten thousand," agreed Xenia. "Will you do it?"

  "For those women, abso-freaking-lutely. Now, leave me alone to do my magic." She called up several dating sites where he
liked to troll, and she worked a profile. "Gonna need some time off, if he bites," said Connie.

  "I'll even pay you," said Xenia. "Bring in Dani. She's been begging for some overtime, anyway."

  Connie snorted. "That girl's addicted to college courses. She's gonna have so many credits that she'll have two bachelor's degrees and a master's, before long."

  Ajai laughed. "Better addiction than most, I'd say."

  Connie pointed a finger at Ajai. "Unless you forget to date or have any fun, which she does. Gotta get that girl to lighten up." She finished her profile, and pressed Send. She went to another site, and finished that one, and the first one dinged. "It's him. Come to mama, idiot boy. By the time we're done with you, you're gonna wish you'd stayed in LA and surfed, you stupid son-of-a-bitch."

  Xenia looked at Herja. Herja smiled. That boy's in for a world of hurt, thought Xenia. Skuld looked at them and laughed. Ajai added hers, too.

  Connie met him at a coffee shop. She said she was a "Good, Christian girl looking for a husband." He said he wanted a wife, and wanted to settle down; tired of doing accounting all damn night… and day, wanted to have a little fun. He took her for ice cream. Their "love" developed, and Connie caught him going through her lenses once, and her jewelry box another time, but accepted his ridiculous explanation that he wanted to know her to know how to please her, and buy her gifts.

  They ran his prints. His name was Todd Raymundo, a grifter from Torrance, California. A man with a long record of petty theft. He kept getting let out of prison due to overcrowding, or embarrassed women refusing to testify.

  Connie met them at the coffee shop, spitting mad. "Bastard gave me a little, gold, heart necklace. Turns out he stole it from a woman in Barstow, and said that it was a gift from his dead mother. Also, it's getting harder to say 'no' about sex, and his taste in wine is atrocious."

  "Time for the 'intentions toward my daughter' speech," said Xenia.