Ally…

A knock fell at my door, and I got up from the living room floor where I was wrapping the last of the dishes and boxing them. I opened it, expecting Mr. Comey but that wasn’t who was on the other side. My eyes widened and I went to slam the door shut, but the big biker stuck his booted foot in the way.

“Ms. Ally Blaylock?” he asked, and I stammered out a careful, “Y-y-yes?”

“We’re the movers.” A bald black man with wraparound sunglasses, in the same imposing leathers, said from behind him.

“Movers?” I squeaked.

“Relax, honey. We’re police,” the third man, probably between the two in age, with kind blue eyes, said to me.

“The police?”

“Yeah, the police. We’re here to help you move.”

I frowned, and let my natural suspicion of my surroundings prod me into asking, “Can I see a badge or some ID or something?”

The younger white guy pulled out his badge and showed it to me, Tony McCormick, a homicide detective. The other two pulled out identification cards. The black man, Hector Jones, his ID said he was a correctional officer with the ICPD city jail, while the oldest man was an ICPD retiree.

“Don’t you be callin’ us by those names, either,” the black man said as he took his ID back. “I’m Oz, that’s Skids, and this here is Youngblood.”

“How did you know I was moving?” I asked, and Skids said gently, “Best have that conversation inside if you don’t mind?”

I nodded and wished that Dawnie were with me; she would know if these men were trustworthy or not, but for now… I opened the door and let them in, but then I kept the door open to the hall and stayed near it.

When they passed me, I saw the backs of their leather vests, and something about the design, the knight’s chess piece picked out in indigo thread against a silver shield background, tickled my memory. Whatever it was, it set me further at ease because I remembered seeing it, and I remembered that wherever I’d seen it, I hadn’t felt frightened.

“So, where is all this stuff going?” Oz demanded.

“Um, some of it is going to storage in the basement, some of it to the new apartment on the sixth floor.”

“Shit, we gotta take all them damn stairs?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Comey said I could use the freight elevator.”

“Okay,” Skids said, “Where’s that at and where did you want us to start?”

“Allison, are you okay?”

I jumped and whirled, Mr. Comey startling me. Dawnie had a hand in the crook of his elbow and said, “Woah, who’s in here with you, Ally? Two of them smell great.”

I laughed nervously and squeaked out, “Um, three men from the Indigo Knights motorcycle club?”

“Shut the front door!” Dawnie cried.

“We’re here to help get this stuff moved,” Skids said behind me, and Dawnie cocked her head.

“Oh yeah, who sent you?” she demanded.

“A friend, that’s all you girls need to know,” Oz said curtly. Dawnie frowned and said, “And what about you? Dude with the girlfriend. She’s got a nice perfume.”

Youngblood laughed, “Here to help.”

“Uh huh…” she pondered a minute and sighed, “You look at their ID?”

“Yes, of course!” I answered.

“And?”

“I think they’re legit, Dawnie.”

“Her boss is an ADA, you know.”

I blinked, long and slow, and realized where I had seen the logo on the back of their jackets. It’d been hanging in Mr. Parnell’s hall closet.

“I think they know that,” I said abruptly. “They’re the police.”

“Oh, well… The police don’t necessarily equate good things in the Point Side,” she reminded me.

“No, seriously, Dawnie, it’s fine now.” The three men exchanged a look and Dawnie, ever on the defensive when it came to outsiders said, “Okay, girlfriend… Spill.”

“I can’t,” I said pointedly, and she got it right away.

“Oh… oh! In that case, where are we starting, Mr. Comey? I’m your lead stupid-visor!”

The guys laughed a little and I blushed furiously. I think they knew I’d figured out where they came from, but why wouldn’t they say? It was another strange kindness Mr. Parnell had done for me, and I didn’t know why.

I didn’t get to think about it, either. We had a lot of work to be done and a lot of stuff to move, the vast majority of it being my grandmother’s furniture to the basement. Her bedroom, most of the living room, and the dining room set all had to go. I just had room for my cast iron daybed, the television and its stand, and one tall dresser in the single-room little studio downstairs.

I had been slowly moving boxes down there and stacking them. At the last minute, I decided that one of the tall book cases would fit, and the guys were nice enough to go all the way back down to the basement to get it for me.

Mr. Comey was kind and no one judged when I cried at having to let this place go. I mean, I had grown up my entire life in this little apartment; just me and my gran for the most part.

“It’s okay, Ally Cat,” Dawnie whispered, hugging me tightly.

“I know, goodbyes are just hard.”

“Well, you ever need anything else, you call one of us, okay?” Youngblood asked, and he, Oz, and Skids all handed me their individual business cards with their contact information.

I nodded, and Dawnie said, “Cool, thanks, now, no offense, but try not looking like cops when you get out of here. The last thing we need is anybody thinkin’ Ally Cat’s a snitch.”

“Dawnie, don’t be rude!” I snapped.

“Look at them; I’m sure they get it.”

I did, and they all traded guilty looks. I smiled half-heartedly and Oz said, “I grew up on a block just like this. I do get it. Come on boys. Skids, you’re buyin’ our lunch.”

Skids laughed and said, “Reflash is fixing us all food, come on down to the 10-13.”

“Thank you all so much,” I said and they each took my hand and nodded and left, out my tiny studio’s front door.

“They’re good people, but we live around a whole lot of people who aren’t,” Dawnie said, worriedly. I looked at Mr. Comey who scratched the back of his balding, gray fringed head, his thick gray mustache twitching as he twisted his lips back and forth.

“She’s right, Ally.”

“The cops aren’t the bad guys though,” I murmured.

“We know that, but the ones who cause trouble?” He waved his hands back and forth, “They’ll cause it and make us the victims, guilt by association, you know how it is.”

I did, and it made me tired.

“It was nice to have the help, but if they want to hang out or whatever? They should do it at that cop bar in Old Town.” Dawnie shuddered.

“I didn’t know they were coming,” I murmured, suddenly feeling like they were mad at me for the men’s presence.

“No, I know, girl… but you don’t need anyone around here figuring out who you’re working for; it could bring a whole gang of trouble to your door.”

“Right, you’re right.”

She sighed, “I’ve harped on you enough. Let me get used to moving around this place…”

I smiled, “I want to get some of this put away.”

“Cool, Mr. Comey, thanks for everything, but I’m kicking you out. This is officially girl time.”

Mr. Comey laughed and said, “Okay, girls… Dawnetta, remember, you are on the sixth floor, now. You must find the stairwell and go up, not down.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I’m making Ally walk me the first couple of times.”

“I’d be happy to.”