Challenge 01 - Heather in the City

Heather answered and was put through. Benson recognised her name and having talked to her the previous day.

"Do you need to re-schedule out appointment? That might be difficult as I am due on the West Coast all next week."

"No, no, thank you so much for your help. I was calling to enquire about, er, Harley." Only half-way through the sentance did she realise how foolish she sounded. Benson noted the inconsistency.

"Didn't Harley vouch for you? Now I have to vouch for Harley. Seems a strange way of running things if you don't mind me saying so."

Heather tried to explain that she had never actually met Harley but that he was assisting her researches. It was because of a proposed meeting that she was enquiring.

"OK," his voice lingered on the two letters. "I can see where you are coming from. I can tell you I've known Harley since I was in short pants. I like him and I respect him but...

How can I say this? You might think twice about going into business with him or inviting him home to meet your folks. He can be a little OG for some circles yeah. But if you are planning on going to certain parts of my town then he'd be a good man to have with you, maybe the best man to have with you. My advice - stay out of those areas either way. But if you want to go there then don't think about going without Harley. That would be real unwise. That help you any?"

She thanked him and again said how much she was looking forward to their interview, how integral it would be to her thesis.

With every passing hour the feeling had been growing within her. She wanted to know what lay behind all of this. She knew that with the leads she had she could write a perfectly good paper. However, she also instinctively knew that Harley was offering her much more. Potentially access to a field of study that had NEVER been properly accessed. A truly ground-breaking piece of research that would prove once and for all her credentials in the field. That would prove wrong all those who said that she had only got where she was because of her family's legacies.

***

Events, opportunities and insecurities. They had all brought her to the point where she was driving down to the city. She felt the unaccustomed weight in her pocket. It made her feel a little less nervous. Up to now she'd always felt a little foolish about her father's gift to her. Now - not so much.

She stopped off for gas on the outskirts of the city.

"Hey bro - peep dis."

She turned and saw two young African-American men watching her. They were both tall, dark and ... well that was a saying for a reason. They looked like athletes, maybe they played for one of the local colleges. She cursed herself as she felt the blood rise to her cheeks.

"Girl - you looking fine. Got time for a drink?" One of the young men was flashing her a dazzling smile.

Yeah, they were impressive specimens and undeniably good-looking but that was NOT happening. Heather was no ingénue. The nuns and an all-girl college didn't mean she knew nothing about men. Like many from her background she'd been eager to experiment as soon as she had the opportunity and such opportunities did occur. Her first boyfriend was really remembered only as a pair of fumbling hands and a hair-trigger. Making out had been OK, mainly the illicit excitement and the novelty, but it had hardly rocked her world. She'd tried a little harder with Brett but then Brett was worth it. He was a really nice guy and a very welcome partner for parties and openings and such. Not such a good partner in bed - or she assumed so. If that was all it was then she would never understand what all the fuss was about.

She scuttled across to the little kiosk as quick as she could and paid the cashier. On the way out the man who had talked to her was still there, waiting as his friend paid for the gas.

He didn't speak again but she felt his eyes on her. She glanced up and sure enough his eyes were on her. She quickened her pace across to her vehicle, felt the weight in her pocket as a reassurance. As she pulled onto the road she saw the two men back together and looking after her, talking. She knew she was the object of their talk.

The incident made her think again about what she was doing. The two young men had been undeniably attractive but she definitely knew better than to accept their invitation. African-American men were just as dangerous as they were alluring, in fact their danger lay in their attraction. Girls that played with matches were sure to get their fingers burned.

But what was she doing? Apparently happily playing with a flame-thrower. But she was driving through the city now. She didn't want to admit her foolishness and to accept defeat. She would go and see how the land lay. She had her vehicle and the contents of her pocket. If anyone thought she was an easy target then she could teach them otherwise - or at least she was confident that she could get away again. She felt her heart beating a little faster, savoured the excitement of the situation. The excitement of those two young men's attention too maybe.

Pretty soon the old depot was in site - the large doors and the gang tags. In front of them was a figure, smaller than she had expected. As she drove past she saw that it was by no means who she had anticipated. No African-American man and indeed no man at all. It was a young woman and as she made a second pass she recognised her. It was the same woman who had taken her picture on the previous trip here.

That settled it. Her curiosity was at a peak now and she did not fear this young woman. She parked up and looking around at the empty run-down street before she walked across to the woman.

She was greeted with an attractive open smile. "Wondered how often you were going to drive past - its not exactly warm out here. I'm Allie."

Allie was an attractive young woman, several inches taller than Heather, maybe 5'10" and with an athletic, if coltish, figure. She wore a warm long coat but the sun was going down and the temperature was falling fast.

Heather had taken Harley's advice and dressed carefully. A knee-length denim skirt below a plain blouse. A scarf loosely knotted around her throat and a warm coat with conveniently capacious pockets. She had her shoulder bag with her. Her clothes were not cheap but did not look expensive. She did not 'dress to impress' and this outfit didn't edge close to breaking that habit. She wasn't looking for that sort of attention. However, the two young athletes at the gas station...

She returned Allie's greeting and then Allie waved a hand. An engine purred and a vehicle made its way across to them. Heather was no expert but she knew the Mercedes logo. The front window lowered and she caught a flash of white teeth in a dark face.

"Assuming you'd be Heather - who's here to learn." He smiled a brilliant smile, his teeth very visible against his dark skin color even in the interior of the vehicle. His low rumble of a voice resumed, "My girl will ride with ya. Take your ride somewhere we can leave it."

That turned out to be a parking garage not so far away. Heather followed the Mercedes and parked up. Harley handed his card to Allie who went and paid the fee. Then he opened his passenger door and looked at Heather.

She stood on the bare functional concrete of the garage and looked at the vehicle. She'd been brought up properly. She knew the risk in taking a ride with a man she'd never met.

Harley smiled again, a pleased smile. "Yeah - you ain't dumb. You know better. Which is why I did it this way." He pointed up at a camera on the wall. "Cameras here and a city one outside. They saw us arrive and they'll see us leave. Your vehicle is here and its paid for on my card. All that said you can believe that if one man is gonna make sure that you get back safe here then it's gonna be me. " He pointed a large finger at his own chest. "If you that nervous maybe you should have checked up on me before you come."

Heather ran her tongue over her top lip, her mouth felt dry. "I did," she was surprised to hear her voice come out as a little croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I did - I rang Mr Benson."

There was that smile again. "I know. He told me. Just needed to see if we was operating on an honest straight-forward basis." He eased himself back behind the wheel - once again leaving the passenger seat free.

It was now or never. Sometimes you just had to go on instinct. Her hesitation was only momentary before she stepped up and got into the passenger seat.

Harley nodded to her. "I like that - a girl who ain't afraid to reach out and take what she wants. To roll the bones and see how they lie."

The door closed behind Heather and she jumped a little at the sound She looked over her shoulder to see Allie moving from her door to the rear. The young woman opened the door and almost leapt into the back seat.

"This is good after that cold!" Almost immediately once in the back seat of the heated vehicle Allie undid her coat. Heather caught a glimpse of a plunging V-neckline in a bright yellow top that stopped several inches above her shorts to leave a toned flat area of pale sin exposed. More skin was visible between the bottom of her tight black shorts and her knee-length tan boots.

"Well shit girl - 'sides the coat you ain't hardly dressed for it." Harley sent Heather a crooked little half-smile as he moved the Mercedes forward.

Heather was curious but also anxious not to be caught staring at him. Only when Harley began talking did she feel confident to carefully take a look at him.

The first things that struck you about him were his size, he was very big, and his skin tone, he was very dark. His features were regular and handsome, his eyes a deep dark brown. He was over 6 feet and built very solidly. His chest was broad and strong, a natural strength. Not that he didn't work out - the firm strong muscles of his arms and legs suggested that he did. He was clearly a man that looked after himself and his vehicle suggested that he was a successful man too. His clothes suggested the same, her practised eye categorised them as expensive but not too showy. The only exceptions to the latter were the four heavy gold rings on his right hand.

That was all only a part of it however. From the moment she had got into the Mercedes Heather had sensed something. A calm confident sense of control. She hadn't wanted to stare at him but she had felt her eyes and attention drawn to him. Allie was taking in the back seat now but Heather hadn't really noticed. Her attention was fully on Harley. She had met naturally-impressive people before, mainly women to be fair. Harley was something else. He had a natural authority, a natural power. That was the word - she couldn't think of another to properly encapsulate him. This man was powerful - and power could be dangerous if not handled carefully.

"This is my town - I was raised up in the Heights. You heard of them?"

She shook her head. Then she realised his eyes hadn't left the road ahead. "No," she said. Again she heard the slight croak in her normally mellifluous voice. The result of that dry mouth, itself the result of her excitement at being here with this strangely-matched couple. Except that obviously they were not a couple. They had nothing in common, quite apart from the obvious. Heather still had no idea how Allie fitted into all of this.

"Heights were bad then and they worse now. Not hard to see why. My grand-folks and their friends all got cleared out to let the freeway come through. They had to put them somewhere and the Heights was the place no-one else wanted. Besides, put all the Black folk together and the mutha-fuckers could shit on 'em from a great height that bit more efficiently like. Pardon my French - I didn't go to no Ivy League."

Allie giggled in the back-seat. Heather felt the blood in her cheeks and hoped it wasn't too noticeable, hoped it would only be taken as a reaction to his earthy language. She knew his apology was in form only - he didn't regret saying it or how he had said it. She'd known him a couple of minutes and she already knew that he was a man who knew his mind and his ways. You took him or you left him and Heather suspected he generally didn't give a shit either way.

That was OK but her heart had started beating extra fast when he had mentioned the clearances for the freeway. She knew all about that story. It was just that she knew about it from a very different vantage point

"What is it you looking into - 'inter-communal relations'? He carefully pronounced the last words.

"If you mean interracial, then you should say interracial," came from the back-seat.

"We all know what she means - and I can tell you there wasn't much of it in the Heights. We made our own way. Supplied our own markets. That was how people got up and how people got out."

Heather was starting to understand. However, she wanted it to be clear. "What did those people supply - drugs?" She knew that would be a dead end. There were some rocks best not to turn over.

Harley gave a mirthless chuckle. "Some did - some did. Generally it didn't end well. Now that was an 'inter-communal concern' for sure. White folks supplied the drugs and had Black folks do the work and do nearly all the time. If'n they lasted long enough to get caught of course. But that's something you want to stay out of. Dangerous waters to fish in. If I knew anything about that I wouldn't be telling you anyway." He paused. "Drugs ain't the only thing men crave - ain't the only thing men will pay for."

"Meowww," came from the back seat followed by Allie's delighted giggle. The Mercedes pulled to the kerb.

For the first time Harley turned his full attention onto Heather and she again felt his charisma, the power of his personality.

"I gave you some leads - they enough to do your paper?"

"They could be," she admitted, "but I know there's more."

"You sure you want to take this trip? This city is like me - we both got secrets and we both got rough-edges. Where we going today is somewhere you never need know about. Maybe somewhere you'll wish you never knew about. What you think Allie?"

"I think it'll blow her mind - show her how things really are. Whether she'll be happy about that I can't tell. Maybe she won't feel ready or able to get involved but looking at her this last five minutes I think she'll want to."

"Allie got a good eye for these things. So you want to go back to the garage or you want to go on. From here we go to the end - but you're with me so you'll just be observing tonight. What's it they call it - a nonparticipant."

"Tough luck on her. Meanwhile we're wasting time here," said Allie.

"Maybe so - but she got my word on it if she wants to go on. So do you?" His eyes were back on Heather's now - deep brown pools of intensity. Her answer was never really in doubt.

"Let's go," she said to a pleased response from the back seat. The Mercedes pulled back out into the road and resumed its journey.

***

"Yeah," he said, "I been knowing and known around here quite some time - since I was coming up under the Playa. A real shit of a man that one but also real good at his job. You ever heard of the Masta Playa girl?"

Heather thought - wondering if this was another test of her seriousness. The name did trigger something in her memory - was it a song? She couldn't remember much more and anyway that song had been long before her time. "Was he a musician?" she asked.

He gave a little bark of a laugh. "Yeah - like I said the Playa was REAL good at his job. I never took to his methods though, profitable as they was. Like an angler using dynamite or a hunter tracking a buck with an AK. Effective but ultimately unrewarding in every sense but one." He took a hand off the wheel to rub the tips of his fingers together. The universal symbol for cold hard cash. "That's why I went out on my own. Learned a lot from him on what to do and what not to do."

Heather wondered if she should take her note-pad out of her bag but thought better of it. Her memory would have to serve her. She suspected this man could give a fascinating oral history interview if he would agree to it. She again tried to estimate his age. His talk suggested that he had to be at least forty but in all honesty he could have been ten years either side of that just by looking at him. She focused on his eyes in the mirror and saw the slight lines around them in the dark skin. The same at the edges of his mouth. Maybe he was early forties? But that Playa song was at least 25 years old, maybe thirty.

"Gotta question?"

She realised he had seen her via the mirror. She also realised that he had been reading her with alarming accuracy. She wondered if it was a good idea to voice her question but reasoned why not? "I was trying to work out how old you are."

"Not so old I can't school any buggin up-and-comers round here. Not so old I can't keep my dick hard. That answer your question?" His glance took in her reddening cheeks, his ears heard his girl Allie's delighted giggle. "You shock real easy for this town. How old are you?"

"I'm 23."

"OK - then we're both over 21 - just I'm about twice that. Gonna put that in your report?"

Allie giggled again and then spoke up from the back-seat. "I can vouch for the second part - the bit about the hard cock. My man puts all the young ones to shame."

Harley's bass rumble of a laugh joined Allie's giggle.

So that answered one thing. Harley and Allie were a couple after all and in every sense. Despite the fact that Allie was much nearer her own age, almost twenty years younger than Harley. Despite their different background, their different ... communities. Heather tried to look without being too obvious and she caught the glint of light from Allie's ring-finger. That meant she was Harley's wife!

The area they were driving through was bleak, no it was worse than that. It was grim. The heated luxury of the Mercedes interior contrasted starkly with the cold wind-swept decaying urban landscape. The tags covering every available vertical space on the shuttered-up stores. Some perhaps shut up for the night but the vast majority apparently for the decade at least. The disintegrating side-walks and vacant lots and derelict housing. It dismayed her but it didn't shock her. She'd seen the documentaries about this city and the TV crews always came to places like this. However, it was different being here in person - even if separated from it all by the car's movement and glass windows.

It was also a different time of the day. Night had claimed the city and these places belonged to those who came out at night. Commerce and residents had abandoned this area but that had only made it available for those unwelcome elsewhere. The streets were not full but they also were not empty. Groups of young men clustered together. The women were different - in ones or twos up and down the long street. Moving forward when a car came, dropping back into the shadows if it glided past.

Harley eased the Mercedes to a halt and flashed its lights three times. Straight away a man seemed to emerge from the nearby wall. Heather had been looking right at him but hadn't seen him in the darkness. The man spat on the ground and then sauntered over to Harley's open window.

"Harley," was all he said. He was thin, his face sharp and full of cunning. His eyes scanned the car's interior and rested on Allie and then on Heather. Heather fought to control her desire to shiver. His eyes were cold and hard. She wasn't so innocent she didn't know his profession. She knew that when he looked at her he wasn't seeing a woman, a human being, he was seeing a commodity, a potential money-maker.

"Fox - how's things moving down here."

"Five-oh did their usual yesterday. So we should be fine for three or four weeks. Long as the rain keeps off we're doing OK."