Free The Mysterious Case of Betty Blue by Louis Shalako Page A

thousand
of them between him and the exit to the park.
    Betty was right there in his
ear.
    “ George. You’re right
there. Say thank you to the nice man.”
    “ Okay, Bud, here we
are…this is the gate. These guys—” Presumably he was referring to
security, of which even raves had some, as tickets and alcohol were
sold and things could get rowdy sometimes. “These guys will take
care of you, okay, Mister?”
    “ My name is George. Thank
you ever so much—” He stuck out a hand but the other guy
didn't take it.
    That's life, eh?
    “ Yeah, whatever. I’m
Sluggo. And stop grabbing people’s asses. That sort of thing will
get you in trouble someday.”
    Scott grinned. Something poked him in
the chest and he figured that was just Sluggo’s way of saying
goodbye.
    There were people right there, he
could hear them talking.
    “ Excuse me. I’m a blind
man and I’ve lost my cane—”
    “ Oh, dear! Yes, sir, what
can we do for you?" Again, someone took him by the upper
arm.
    He sensed he was the centre of
attention, out there on the fringes of the insanity, where the
music was a little more bearable in terms of volume and somebody
had to stay sober, or relatively sober in order to justify their
wages…as opposed to merely partying with the rest of them. That’s
not to say they weren’t dancing, or just grooving to the music a
little, because for some reason Scott rather had the impression
they were.
    He smelled several different kinds of
dope too.
    “ Just point me to the
door, my good fellow.”
    “ Actually, I am a
trans-gendered individual.”
    Scott grinned in
appreciation.
    “ See—I knew that. I just wanted to hear you
talk.”
    The small crowd out there laughed and
made a few comments which they both ignored as best they
could.
    “ All right, sir, we’re
just going to take your hand. The exit is right this
way.”
    “ Thank you.”
    “ Can I call someone for
you, sir?”
    “ I believe I have a taxi
coming.”
    Betty was right there.
    “ Union City Cab, Car
Eighteen. The number’s on the door.”
    Scott relayed the information as
confidently as he could.
    “ All right, sir, we’ll
just stay with you until it arrives.”
    There was a crowd outside the gates as
well, which served as something of a distraction to his
benefactors.
    This was a good thing. They answered
questions from youthful voices pretty good-naturedly and their
attention was elsewhere.
    All Scott wanted was to hear the sound
of a car arriving.
    “ It’s got to be right on
you, Scott.”
    He lifted a wrist and pretended to
check a non-existent wristwatch.
    “ Where is that pesky
fellow?”
    No one laughed, or even noticed,
judging by the response.
    “ Ah. Here we are.” The
hand squeezed his arm and led him forwards.
    “ Is that number eighteen?
Someone else might have called for a cab.”
    “ No, this is yours, sir.
Have a pleasant evening.” The security guard opened the car door
and helped him find his way in. “We hope you enjoyed the
music.”
    Scott paused on the brink of slamming
the door closed.
    “ May I ask you a personal
question?”
    “ Sure.”
    “ What…what do you plan to
be?” It was obscure, but the guard knew what he meant.
    “ I hope to be a girl
someday. Have a pleasant evening, sir.”
    It was absolutely deadpan and pretty
darned perfect as well.
    “ Ah. Well. Good luck and
all that sort of thing.” He paused again. “Who’s your
friend?”
    “ Dave.” This was a new
voice, one even deeper than the first guard.
    “ Dave? How come you never
said anything before?” It was weak stuff, but presumably, he was
drunk, stoned and just being silly.
    He sensed the tolerant looks they
exchanged, how he knew that was pure cliché of course.
    “ Dave’s the strong silent
type. Anyhow, thank you.”
    “ Thank you, too.” Scott
closed the door.
    Yeah, good luck with that,
Buddy.
    "Hi, I’m Melvin, your friendly
neighbourhood Union City Cab driver. Where would you like to go,
sir or Ma’am?" The