Cassie and Johnny

I’m the kind of dame you notice. I’m no femme fatale, but you can’t ignore me, at least not until I warn you about what’s coming, then everybody ignores me. Hell, they usually blame me afterwards and give Johnny all the credit for saving the day, but my Johnny couldn’t save a seat at the movies without my help. Sure, he’s brawny, but brainy? Not so much. Like that time I asked him to spot me five bucks, and he said he didn’t see it anywhere on me, and believe you me, he looked but good.

So there I was in Charleston, South Carolina, minding my own business while I strolled the Battery in awe of the houses on Rainbow Row. The sun was rising over the harbor, deep blue Atlantic and ridiculously expensive yachts glittering in the morning sundance on the water. I should have known then that water would be a problem. Sometimes even I miss the foreshadowing, but that’s another story for another day.

I was meeting some of the girls for lunch at Gallart and Malachlay later, but I had a couple of hours to kill, so I wandered around the battery, then meandered over to East Bay to do some window shopping. Ooh, that red number would be dynamite on me. The bell on the door jingled as I pulled it open.

The air conditioning was heavenly, perked me right up. A rack of scarves near the dress caught my eye. A new scarf would by handy if Johnny got overzealous when he saw me in the dress. I tried it on, and it fit like a glove, looked like I’d been poured into it, so I bought it and a cute black and white polka dot scarf. I already had shoes that would be divine with it. Maybe a new bag to give it a little something extra.

The girls and I gossiped all through lunch. Sally had all the dirt and spread it like our table was a garden plot. By the time I finished my second Bloody Mary, I had to retouch my eye makeup from the tears of laughter threatening my mascara. By the time we finished our cold cucumber soup (to die for, even better than gazpacho), I had collected more trash from South of Broad than the sanitation department.

We were enjoying the divine bourbon cake with our coffee (French press brought to the table) when Johnny swaggered in, probably looking for me--Gallart and Malachlay isn't exactly a blue collar haven. I real quick shoved my shopping bags under the table--can't ruin a surprise red dress with previews.

He came right over to our table and greeted the girls all around, which was my cue. I gave Sally a meaningful look and the extra key to my apartment so she could get my divine acquisitions home for me. There was no telling what Johnny needed me for or what would be involved. Best to keep the dress safe.

Johnny took my hand and pulled me to my feet (and into his arms) and whispered, "Can you come with me now?”

I nodded into his shoulder, pulled back, picked up my bag (a cute little Chanel number with the quilted leather and gold chain threaded through the shoulder strap), and told the girls, "Johnny needs my help," dropped the bill Johnny palmed me on the table, and said, "Lunch is on Johnny since he cut it short," gave them a wink, and let Johnny escort me out the door to the sidewalk.

One of the horse carriage tours stopped right in the middle of the cobblestone street. Weird, it was empty. Maybe the driver was taking a lunch break. I halted in front of the restaurant's picture window and asked Johnny what was wrong.

My sweet Johnny helped me into the carriage and climbed up beside me, but he had that look he gets, so I knew there would be no velvet box at the end of this ride. More like pine from the way his brow furrowed. Our driver took a turn on Ashley, and all of a sudden, those horses were galloping, with the driver whipping them and calling, "Geeee-up!" Johnny wrapped his arms around me to keep me from bouncing out of the carriage, maybe indulging his hands with a bouncy part for the briefest of seconds. Oh, that Johnny really gets my engine revving.

I knew something was up when he hadn't spoken by the time we crossed Calhoun, and I had a feeling I knew where we were going, so I simply said, "Citadel?" Johnny nodded a bit too vigorously for my comfort.

"I'm not sure what the problem is, whether it just needs me or needs both of us, but General Pratt called me himself."

That tightened my chassis right up. Bypassing his secretaries was definitely out of character and definitely meant trouble.

The general was waiting for us at the gatehouse, didn’t raise one iron eyebrow at the horses, just extended a strong arm to help me down. Johnny hopped down behind me, and the general steered us toward the library. A line of cadets approached, saluting General Pratt as they passed. They were so cute with their precise steps, lining their feet against edges of the parade ground to turn sharp corners. I gazed up at the chapel, adjacent to the library. REMEMBER NOW THY CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH was carved into the marble in an arc over the entrance, not a bad message for boys carrying firearms.

The general was going on and on about Calhoun’s porcelain birds, and I hadn’t the foggiest why he needed Johnny. Momentarily, he paused and gave me the once-over, as if he hadn’t just handed me out of a carriage, then dismissed me with his eyes and accosted Johnny.

“What’s with the cupcake? This isn’t a date.”

Johnny’s hand put a vise grip on my wrist just in time. General Pratt wouldn’t tolerate speaking out of turn. I didn’t have enough rank here to lose any, so I kept my mouth shut and listened while gazing at the slice of the Ashley visible between barracks.

By the time General Pratt finished fawning over the birds, we were inside Capers Hall, where classes were getting out. He flicked his left wrist toward his face, the ray of sun that slipped in through the open doors glinting off his watch crystal, then raised his right hand in a salute he didn’t drop until we were in the conference room, which was packed.

The maintenance crew stood in the back of the room, while apparently the entire English and History faculty argued around the table. General Pratt took the podium and cleared his throat. The room immediately fell silent and saluted as one.

After a few gruff words, he announced that as much as he wanted to stay and get the problem under control himself, he had a flight to catch for a meeting at Camp David, but he had the best man for any job to take the helm in his stead, and actually introduced Johnny as Johnny on the Spot, saluted the room as one, and he was gone.

As soon as the door closed, mayhem resumed, English and History professors fighting like books were involved. After a moment of squabble, I pieced together what they were arguing about: which part of the library to save if that rusty pipe burst before the replacement pipe arrived. Apparently, it was leaking like a politician with an agenda, and a decision had to be made: what to save, the left or right side of the first floor. The whole thing was absurd, so I stepped to the podium to address this nonsense.