Color Blind (Team Red) (21 page)

It had been arranged to meet Dex and Fritz at the event, where we would be introduced to their partners in a formal setting. Since David, Bas, and Fritz were already acquainted through their jobs in the Navy, it would not be suspicious for them to all meet and greet. In fact, it would be more telling for them to ignore each other.

One of the guys, or maybe Lt. Mercer, had reserved a limo to pick us up at our hotel and take us to the Gala (come on, we were all dressed up – it seemed wrong to refer to it as the BAWHG, at this point). It was a little chilly, so I was especially grateful Janey had found a waist length crimson velvet jacket to wear with the gown.

David escorted me to the elevator, with my hand tucked in the bend of his elbow. Bas had already left a few minutes earlier to take Red down to sniff and anoint a multitude of bushes in the dog area behind the hotel. We decided to wait on the mind vision to keep Red fresh in case we were at the ball longer than anticipated. We were confident that Red could switch to mind speaking if he couldn’t hold the sight connection. So far he had not shown any adverse effects to holding a speech link for an indefinite amount of time.

On the elevator ride down, David pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. He smelled of cedar, lime, and the faint citrus scent of his shampoo. I’d need to check with the shop in Coeur d’Alene to see if they could blend up additional products in the lime cedar scent he and I both preferred.

The elevator doors whooshed open, introducing the scent of lemon polish, old cigarettes, sweat, and perfumes, layered one over the other, from the multitude of bodies moving around in the lobby. With my hand, once again, secured in the bend of his arm, David ushered me out to the valet area where the limousine awaited us at the curb. “Ten feet to the car,” David directed. “Looks like Bas and Red are already inside waiting.”

Red briefly warned,
“Lights on.”
As I approached, so I was able to see my way into the vehicle without mishap. I arranged my skirt modestly around my legs, trying to be careful of the heavy beading around the hem.

“Thanks Red,” I said. “I appreciate the help getting in, but save your sight for later, okay?”

“It was Bas’ idea. He said it might be awkward for you because the seats were facing the wrong way.”

“He was right,” I agreed. “Thanks, Bas. It would have been harder to figure out the seating.”

It was a ten minute drive to the Gala, but we were in the limo for another fifteen minutes while the vehicles in front of us dropped off their passengers, and circled out of the event venue’s long driveway. There was another five minutes or so before it would be our turn to disembark, when Red decided he needed to visit the bushes outside the vehicle window.

“Really, Red?” I complained. “You just went at our hotel. You had five minutes of lawn time to take care of business.”

“But, Teresa, I really have to go,”
he whined.

“You two stay here. I’ll take Red out so he can explore new and uncharted territories, and we will meet you when you get to the entryway.”

“Bas is the greatest!”
Red said, ecstatic over getting his way. Actually, he would be working hard for the next few hours, so it was nice of Bastian to spend some outdoor time with him and let him be a regular dog for a few more minutes.

“Thanks Bas. And, Red says, thanks, too.”

“No problem.” There was a sound of the door opening and the dinging of a warning bell. Bas slid out, with Red right at his heels. Shortly after the door slammed closed, the limo inched forward one car length.

“Looks like there are six vehicles ahead of us,” David told me, answering my unasked question. “Red has managed to claim the whole front garden for his domain. A dog should not be able to hold that much urine.”

I chuckled, “He’s so darned excited, like a little kid. I’m glad Bastian doesn’t mind walking with him before we all go inside.”

“I forgot to mention, I got an email from Lt. Mercer,” David said. “Colonel Spencer had a small turf patch brought in for the balcony area, so that Red could relieve himself, or have an excuse to relieve himself, during the party without us having to leave the ballroom.”

“Well, that was considerate. And, a really good reason to have Red in that area without raising suspicion. We need to make sure we take him out to introduce him to the grass area, so that it will look natural for him to seek it later.”

The limo inched forward again, and I felt the transmission set into ‘park.’ David shifted on the seat beside me, sliding towards the car door. Our driver must have opened it from the outside, because I didn’t feel David reach for the handle. One of David’s hands slid into mine, and he helped guide me out of the vehicle.

“Lights on,”
Red warned, and soft artificial light flooded my mind. It was night, so the light bulbs and flood lights cast less intrusive brightness in my head. I watched myself fold out from the backseat of the limo, to stand next to David. Wow, he looked good in his tux. And let me say, the beard really enhanced the line of his jaw, drawing a woman’s gaze to his mouth. He watched me settle my hemline over my shoes. His eyes followed the movement of my hands, and he smiled as I settled my beaded purse over my right wrist. My heart almost stopped at the love I saw in his face as he gazed down on me, curling his hand around my waist. I reached a hand to his face, cupping his cheek while lifting my mouth for a quick kiss.

Show time.

Bastian took the lead, while Red fell in step to my left, leaving David to my right. Red gave me an unimpeded view of Bas’ backside, and for the record, it was a glorious sight. Unlike David’s smooth, gliding, runway model saunter, Bas walked like he was claiming territory. He strode with an economy of movement, no wasted gestures; his step firm, shoulders back, and head high. I watched his head move from side to side as he followed the actions of the people surrounding us. He walked like a soldier, purposeful and confident.

There was a chill in the air, accompanied by a dampness very different from the drier, crisper cold I was used to in Spokane. It was probably fifty degrees and I felt goose bumps crawling up my arms. At home in the same temperature, I’d be wearing shorts, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and flip flops.

As we approached the entryway leading into the hotel venue, two doormen pulled the tall glass panel doors wide for us to walk in abreast. “Okay Red,” I said, as we started across the lobby towards the bank of elevators. “Lights out for now.”

“You got it Beautiful,”
Red responded. Once again, I was in the dark.

Earlier, while still in Spokane, we had decided to use only mind speak unless we determined I needed a visual feed. It was important that people have no doubt I was blind. There had been a few incidents when Bas noticed I was responding as a sighted person because I was receiving input from Red. An observation he proved when we were practicing mind sight. I reflexively jerked away from his hand, waving in my face, because I saw through Red what he was doing. I was more aware now, but we wanted to reserve the mind sight for instances where I needed to see particular people or events. The agreed upon signal was if I addressed Red by name, he would turn ‘lights on’ or ‘lights off’. If I was introducing him, it would not count. We knew people were bound to ask my dog’s name, it happened all the time. Even when he wore his service dog vest with ‘Please do not pet or approach me, I am working’, we could rely on at least a half-dozen people asking if the dog was friendly, and could they touch him? Without his working dog vest, we anticipated people asking us all night long. But Red convinced Bas that he wanted a tux, so a tux is what Bas got him. Such a pushover.

Falling into old habits, David and Bas gave me a running commentary on what was going on around us. This was unintentionally hysterical, as Red also had a constant stream of chatter.

(D) “We are heading towards the elevators. There’s a bit of a line, so it may take us a while.”

(R)
“They are lined up like cattle in a chute. Mooooooo. I think that security guy has a cattle prod.”

(Me) “I’m in no hurry, David.” and “I’m pretty sure it’s a Taser, not a cattle prod.”

(R)
“Mmm, that guy stepped in cat poop.”

(D) “I like the lemon scent they’re using in the potpourri.”

(Me) “It’s a nice light scent. I think it would smell terrific if they used lime.”

(R)
“I don’t think lime will cover the scent of cat poop any better than lemons, Teresa.”

(B) “Geez, will you look at the Ho in the black dress? I’ve seen more material on Janey’s Barbie dolls.

(D) “I think that’s General Brigham’s daughter.”

(B) “Wow, won’t she be surprised when her father is able to unexpectedly make it to the party?”

(R)
“I think the general will be more surprised when he finds out she’s pregnant.”

(Me) “Pregnant?”

(B) “Pregnant? The general’s daughter? Fuck me.”

(R)
“Ha! That’s what she said.”

(Me) “Red!” (And then, yes, I repeated that last remark to the guys, it
WAS
funny)

(Me) “Lights off, Red” (Yeah, my bad, for using his name. Nice to know the code works though.)

(D) “I think that elevator was over capacity.”

(B) “Well I didn’t mind the woman with the red hair who caressed my ass on the ride up.”

(R)
“It was her date, the short man with the bushy mustache that touched him.”

(Me) I stayed silent on this one. We’ll let Bas continue thinking it was the redhead.

Our arrival at the ballroom was uneventful. There was, indeed, a close resemblance between the people piling off the elevators and cattle being herded into a large pen. David guided us quickly off to the side, out of the traffic flow.

“I don’t think the elevator was the only thing over capacity. There must be over five hundred people crammed in this room,” Bas complained. “Let’s look for our table and then take Red to the balcony to see if he likes his patch of grass.”

We already knew that Dexter and his partner would be seated at a table next to us, while Fritz and his companion would be closer to the patio area. The decision to put Fritz, who Bas and David already publically knew, by the balcony was a strategic one. It gave us a reason to be on that side of the room in case we had problems with the mind or visual link range. This mission would be the longest running test of Red’s ability to maintain mental communication, and we wanted a little room in case we taxed him too hard. Fritz would wait until after Red was taken outside, before greeting the Team.

The doors to the balcony were kept closed, due to the chill in the air, but there was an elderly, hotel-uniformed employee who stood at attention, just inside the ballroom; he opened and closed the doors for anyone that approached. The Team introduced ourselves to the doorman, Henry Witherspoon, who escorted us outside to the patch of lawn brought in for Red. The dog was, of course, ecstatic to be the first to anoint and claim the three by four foot patch of turf. Without my asking (possibly at Bas or David’s direction), Red flashed me a visual while we were in the patio area so I had an idea of the layout. I was able to see Mr. Witherspoon’s frail, bent frame as he shuffled forward to show us the area for smoking, seating, and the best place to stand to get a view of the Bay. Mr. Witherspoon realized, almost immediately, that I would not been able to take advantage of the scenery. “That was insensitive of me, Ms. March. I do apologize.”

“No apology necessary, Mr. Witherspoon. I consider it a compliment that you forgot my handicap, and were giving us the same tour you would to any guest.”

Red snuggled his head under one of the old man’s gnarled hands, to encourage an ear scratch. With the man distracted, David eased me toward the balcony railing. I watched through Red’s sight, as we stood, backlit by pinpoint lights of other hotels and skyscrapers surrounding us. In my white stilettos, I was only a couple inches shorter than David, but he still managed to cover me protectively under one arm helping stave off the cool, damp breeze.

Red took this opportunity to pan the balcony, so I could see the seating area, arranged in a protected alcove, designed to block the wind coming off the water. Bas was chatting with the older doorman, and at one point, offered to shake hands, while continuing an animated conversation. His face lit with genuine enjoyment at the other gentleman’s company. With a final friendly pat to Mr. Witherspoon’s shoulder, Bas turned to us and indicated it was time to go inside.