Randi had been coming to the Trane Station for months. Some friends had suggested it, for that she was glad, but even they hadn’t taken to the place the way she had. She enjoyed the music, always the music, the people she came to know, there were some characters who hung around this place, and she ate dinner there occasionally, even though the food wasn’t exactly great.
Randi had met Trane a week or so after she became something of a regular. They had talked and laughed. She liked him. Above all else, she had told her friends, Trane is a good listener. She thought it amazing what he remembers about people.
One thing Trane remembered about Randi that embarrassed her when he mentioned it was the fantasy she had told him she had. She’d had too much to drink one night and spoke a little too openly. But even a week later, Trane remembered.
“Randi,” he’d said last night, “There’s a party coming up downtown at a private room in the Peabody. It sounds like the kind of party that could very well fit your special fantasy.” He paused then and just smiled before asking, “Would you like to go?”
Randi knew she blushed and took too long to answer.
“Will you be going, too?” she asked finally.
“Yes,” he smiled into her eyes, “But only as your escort. The night, the party, the experience, whatever it becomes, is all yours. I’ll get you there, but then you’re on your own.”
Randi sipped at her beer to stall for time.
“And you’re sure it will be a safe party?” she asked, knowing he knew what her question meant.
“I guarantee it,” he smiled evenly, “In fact, once I get you there, the only thing I’ll do from then on out is to make sure you are safe. I’ll be your bodyguard, of sorts.”
The thought of Trane being her bodyguard got a laugh from both of them.
“Okay,” she said through her laugh, “Let’s do it.”
Trane only smiled when he responded, “No, it’s you who is gonna do it. Tomorrow night then, Saturday night. 10:00 p.m. Meet me here and I’ll drive us there, okay?”
Randi only nodded, yes. She was already wondering what she would wear or not wear.
The night came and Randi found herself in Trane’s jeep driving down Union Avenue to the Peabody Hotel. The valet looked Trane’s muddy jeep over twice before carefully climbing inside to park it. The elevator ride to the 8th floor was in the same elevator that ducks rode down from the roof everyday to play in the lobby fountain. Her mind was racing, flying with her sense of anticipation.
