A cool, briny gust of wind blows a plastic grocery bag down the street ahead. The yellow overhead lights cast a corpse-like color over Denise and Jonas-Joe Lee, the FBI man given her as proof against harm and fear. Stopping for a moment Denise tilts her chin upward, her view going from residential horizon to stucco margins and scraggly tree tops to a blinking black canal of space and cosmos overhead, branching off here and there just out of periphery to perpendicular avenues. It's three AM. The whispers of distant hollering, car sounds, and wind winding through the aging structures around them return her to a time before, a time of innocence and ignorance, a time of less and more. Denise speaks at Jonas-Joe with the directness of a drunk,
"What should I call you then Mr. Lee? Funny, I can't get out of my mind thinking with a last name like that a man should descend from Asia or be sporting some out of date mustache and rebel cap marching into a Civil War bloodbath." Jonas-Joe is white, with shadowy deep set eyes, short black hair and face pocked with a half dozen minor acne scars. In company with the marks of a painful adolescence was one other, starting on his right jaw near the ear it was a thick off-color line that came to end somewhere beneath the collar of his grey shirt. Jonas-Joe was directed to travel with Denise Joan Mcthaniel in plainclothes, no need to blatantly tip off anyone who might be watching.
Behind her Jonas is being spied by eyes below Denise's breasts peeking from an arched bend over backward. Jonas-Joe catches himself being drawn to the dark space between those pert tits falling askew, trying to escape from that dated thin silk shirt. Correcting his attention, Jonas-Joe turns to the side eying the shadow layered street. He says simply,
"The boys just call me JJ miss." She stretches out her arm up at the sky,
"I haven't stared at the night sky in wonder in so long a time I feel I might fall into it. This space of the open face of the world feels strange to be in, like I should fly out and up just by reaching a bit too high." Denise shakes her head, "That's no name for a man, a strong man who carries death, cocked and ready." Turning to face him she steps into his space and asks, "I like Jonas, ok?" He meets her level eyes, nodding, transfixed by this strange woman who seemed so unlike the women and people Jonas had met thousands of, as if she was from a foreign land with different customs and values. He sighs and points ahead,
"Of course ma'am. This was your place before you were kidnapped." She runs her hand over her scalp, the strands of hair just growing back now only an inch long springing back to stiff vertical position as released,
"That's right, my second prison in life." He looked at her with concern. He knew she had once been an upstanding corporate business woman, now she seemed strange and would have trouble blending back into the normal world,
"It's too bad you can't have your old place back, they've rented it to new tenants. Maybe we could talk to them in the morning and see if they would be willing to be moved to another unit." Denise gives a little laugh at that,
"It's not my home anymore. That place is in the past Jonas, a dream to me. I would no more try to fly than try to be that person again or live in that space." Then with a cry that will surely wake many of the sleeping citizens nearby she shouts, "Denise Joan Mcthaniel is dead! I piss on her stupidity and her common frailty!" She turns to the startled Jonas-Joe, and says with a wicked grin, "Just call me Dee Jonas, I'm no corporate zombie. I spread my legs wide to the universe and feel it all fuck me with it's shape and texture and vicious little bits of experience. I won't ever be afraid of it again." She starts walking away then, into the middle of the street and away from where they had parked. Just as Jonas-Joe begins to follow her the light of one of Denise's neighbor's apartments lights up and it's front door opens. Out stumbles a man red eyed and walking clumsily. Jonas-Joe has his priorities and turns back to keep his assignment from getting killed or lost. The man in his bath robe yells out at the plodding woman in her small skirt and flower-print silk shirt,
"Do you know Denise?!" The man begins jogging up to close the ground between him, Jonas, and Dee. Denise stops and spins around another wry smile painting her face, she speaks in a dizzying seductive voice now,
"Is that you neighbor Jack?" Before he can respond she steps back to the curb letting a car move around her, it's occupant glaring out the window at the scene, one not so odd for the city of Long Beach, city of malcontents, blazers, drunks and vegan princesses, gays and literary cliches walking around each and every corner. Dumbfounded, Jack Keller had no presence of mind to turn any of a jumble of thoughts into words. Dee moves into him and speaks as she comes into embrace, "Neighbor Jack it's been what seems like a long time, and yet you're still here like an old stone growing moss from lack of rolling."
To emphasize Denise rolls her hand that had run it's way up Jacks back around his neck and through his half inch long tufts of beard. Finally Jack gathers a fraction of himself in order that he might speak louder than a moss covered stone,
"Denise, what happened to you? The police interviewed me, somewhat interrogated me actually, I thought you were dead!" Dee looks back at Jonas and gathers up a pitiable look, and then turns back to Jack holding the expression,
"Oh yes Jack I think that girl you're talking about did die, but I am her descendant come to you to tell you all about it." She bends in close to his ear and whispers again in her sultry seductive siren tones, "We really should catch up.. right now. You're still single from no lack of trying to find the right kind of slut aren't you?" Jack just nods in confirmation. He looks over toward Jonas-Joe to gather any kind of direction he might. The policeman merely shrugs, having no intention of getting in Denise's way so long as he's able to keep tabs on her. She had barely allowed a man to be assigned to her in the first place. Only when the suggestion of some time in psych treatment was brought up, and she got a look at Jonas did she concede the point. Denise speaks to Jonas then without turning to face him, "You'll be waiting in the car won't you Jonas, keep a girl safe from bad men in the night?" Rolling his eyes Jonas replies,
"Of course madam I will be here when next you've decided you wish to go somewhere." Dee then takes her old neighbor by the hand and leads him quickly to his door smiling widely as he closes it behind them,
"You'll have a drink to make for your dear old friend, lady Dee, now won't you Jack?" Tripping over himself to get to the kitchen of his two bedroom apartment he responds a bit hoarsely at first just finding his voice after having woken from an insubstantial rest,