“It’s just coffee, Miss Logan, nothing else. I’m not the enemy and I won’t bite. I promise.” I thought of Flynn’s words to me.
“Why do you want to have coffee with me?” I asked outright.
Guy hesitated, then slowly said, “I think you know why. You look all alone here.”
“Maybe that’s what I want. Because I am.”
“You don’t have to be,” Guy said.
“Well, maybe I prefer it that way.”
“Like I said, it’s just coffee.”
I headed for the classroom door. Guy followed me. We walked in silence until we reached the library, where I stopped. I decided not to take Guy’s hand of friendship, if that was truly what it was. “I’ll see you in class,” I said, and walked away.
“It’s just coffee, Cassie!” he called after me.
I didn’t respond. I just kept on walking.
Guy didn’t give up. I thought at the next class he would choose to sit elsewhere. He didn’t. As always, he came right over and sat next to me. As always, he smiled and spoke pleasantly. As always, I returned his greeting without a smile. He didn’t invite me to coffee again.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
It was at a law school Christmas party that I finally accepted Guy’s friendship. I hadn’t planned to attend. I felt awkward since I was the only Negro who would be attending and I had no one to invite to go with me. I had decided not to go to the party until another student warned that not to attend was frowned upon by the staff and possibly it could affect job recommendations down the line; I had to be able to socialize within the legal community. So, at the last minute, against my better judgment, I went.
The party was at one of the professors’ houses. It was an early evening party, so I took the bus over. I planned to get back the same way. I intended to make my appearance and stay for only a short while. The fact that some of the faculty were late in arriving persuaded me to stay longer since I believed it was in my best interest to be present when they arrived. I stood quietly by as the law students arrived and made merry. A few of them came over to speak to me and made polite conversation for a few minutes, then were gone. I was totally uncomfortable.
Then Santa Claus arrived.
It was one of the law students, and from the sound of him, he was already inebriated. He called for all “good little boys and girls” to come over. The partygoers gathered around. I happened to be standing by the table where he plunked the huge red sack he was carrying. He then announced, “You good little boys stay where you are. I want to see these good little girls first . . . and . . . they don’t all have to be so good.” He winked. “They can be as bad as they want to be.”
The crowd roared with laughter. I started to back away, but I was penned in at the front of the circle by people surrounding the jolly law student.
“Now,” said Santa, sitting down with a grunt, “who’s the first naughty little girl wants to sit on Santa’s lap?”
Someone pushed a young woman toward Santa. I recognized her from one of my classes. Her name was Maureen. She had dark hair, block-cut at chin level, very dark eyes, and wore movie star red lipstick. She was quite pretty. Drink in hand, she went over to Santa. Santa patted his thigh. “Have a seat,” he said, “and let me see what you’re drinking there.” Maureen giggled, sat down on Santa’s lap, and handed her glass to him. Santa took a sip. “Owww, good stuff,” proclaimed Santa. “Bourbon. This tells me you must be a mighty good girl!”
Maureen laughed and so did the rest of the partygoers.
“Now, tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” ordered Santa. “You don’t have to tell everybody, just put your sweet lips next to my ear and whisper your wish to me.”
Maureen complied; leaning seductively close to the Santa and cupping her hand to one side of her mouth, she whispered into his ear. Santa’s eyes went big in mock surprise as Maureen made her wish known, then Santa nodded profoundly and said, “Well, I sure will try to do my best, little girl! I am sure I’m the man for the job!”
More laughter.
“Now, hang on before you get down from Santa’s lap. Got a little present for you.” He reached into his sack and pulled out a neatly wrapped box with golden ribbon. “This is because you’ve been such a good little naughty girl! Now give Santa a kiss.”
Maureen complied, kissing him full on the lips. As she got up, two more young women were summoned to Santa. One sat on each knee. They were given much the same Santa treatment as Maureen. Then someone shouted out, “’Ey, Santa! What about Miss Logan here?” Someone grabbed me from behind. “Don’t want to discriminate!” I was pushed forward and down on Santa’s knee. I tried to get up, but strong hands on my shoulders kept me down.
“Ah, come on now,” said Santa, “you figure you’ve been too naughty to sit on Santa’s lap?”
“I figure,” I said, “this is something I don’t do.” Again I tried to rise. Some in the crowd laughed, but the laughter was not as raucous as before. There was a nervousness to it. I thrust my arms back hard, jabbing the person holding me. The grip slipped away and I jumped up. “You might think this is funny,” I said, “but I don’t.”
“Ah, look here,” said Santa, grabbing my arm, “it’s all just in fun. Be a good girl and sit back down here on Santa’s knee.”
That is when Guy Hallis suddenly stepped forward. “Let go of her arm, Sean. She said she wants no part of this. Let her go.”
The red-faced Santa looked up at Guy and released his hold. “Neither one of you is any fun. You two, expect to get lumps of coal in your stockings!” A few people laughed, but mostly there was quiet as I finally was allowed to turn and make my way through the crowd. Guy followed.
“Sorry about that,” Guy said when we were out of the crowd and into the next room.
“It wasn’t your doing.” I looked around. “What did they do with the coats?”
“You’re leaving?”
“I think so.”
“You have a car?”
“No. I’ll take the bus.”
“I can take you home.”
“I can make it fine on the bus,” I said, heading for the pile of coats on one of the settees.
Guy went with me. “It’s dark already. I’d feel better if you’d let me take you. Believe me, I’m nothing like Santa.”
I studied his face. Guy had always been kind to me, kind and considerate. I decided to trust him. That was the beginning of our friendship.