Four Blind Mice

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Our time together in Washington raced by like a couple of blinks of the eye, and before I knew it Jamilla had to go back to San Francisco. Sunday afternoon at a very crowded Reagan International. Fortunately my badge got me out to the gate area. I was bummed to see her leave, and I didn't think she wanted to go, actually. The two of us hugged for a long time at the gate and we didn't much care if anyone was staring.

Then Jam had to run to her plane or miss it.

“Why don't you just stay another night?”I asked. “Lots of planes tomorrow. And the next day. Day after that.”

“I really, really liked this,” she said as she pulled away from me and started to back-pedal. “Bye, Alex. Please miss me. I liked Washington more than I thought I would.”

A flight attendant followed her in and closed the door between us. Jeez, I even liked the way Jamilla ran. She glided. And I did miss her already. I was starting to fall again and that scared me.

That night at home I was up long after midnight. At one particularly low point I went out to the sun porch and sat at the piano playing a pretty pathetic "Someone To Watch Over Me', thinking about Jamilla Hughes, romanticizing like hell, loving every painful second of it.

I wondered what was going to happen to the two of us. Then I remembered something Sampson had once said. Don't ever be Alex's girlfriend. It's dangerous. Unfortunately, he had been right so far.

A few minutes later, I became aware of banging on the screen door out front. I went around and found Sampson leaning against the doorjamb. He didn't look real good. Actually, he looked awful.