to the open window as though he thought the flivver might disintegrate under him.
"She's temperamental."
"I can tell. So what do you call her?"
"Call her?"
"You seem like the kind of guy who gives his things names."
I opened my mouth to protest, then shook my head and laughed. "Greta."
"As in Garbo? I'm sure she'd be impressed."
Heat flooded my face and from the look of amusement on Ben's face I was blushing.
"Come on," he said. "Let's see if Greta can get us where we want to go."
* * * *
Santa Barbara, March 10, 1933
Santa Barbara was as pretty as the travel posters said it was. I was glad Ben agreed to come with me. I glanced over at him while I drove. Greta handled easy once she got on the road. She was just cranky in the morning, like I got sometimes after a too late night or a too rough client.
The sky was so blue it almost hurt to look at it. A light breeze wafted the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms into the car. Under it was the scent of the nearby ocean. Seagulls flew over the road and when I pulled into a parking lot off a beach, they were on the beach and in the waves along with some long-legged birds that danced over the wet sand, weaving in and out of the bigger, slower moving gulls.
Out on the water boats of all colors and sizes moved gracefully over the waves.
I sat in the car, entranced. "Beautiful."
Ben came to stand beside me. "Since neither one of us came dressed for the beach, I say we go some place where we're not going to stand out like pigs at a wedding."
"Like where?"
"We're here to sightsee, right? So let's go see some sights."
We toured all of old town. There were buildings under repair, the odd empty lot I figured must have had a structure on it at one time. Ben nodded when I mentioned that.
"Lot of places here were built from wood. It didn't hold up. This time around it's being done right. Stone and adobe."
We ended our tour at the mission, spectacular in the setting sun. The white walls blushed pink, deepening to red in the growing shadows. Breezes whispered through the palms and ornamental plants. Birds had gathered to nest for the night and the air was alive with their songs.
"Was the mission damaged in the earthquake?" I asked.
"A few columns fell. No one was hurt," Ben said. "They repaired it pretty fast."
Wandering through the gardens, nodding at the men and women we passed, and the black frocked priests we were in no hurry. A fountain spilled water into a stone lined pool. The air smelled like nothing I had ever experienced. It reminded me there were other places in the world besides smoke filled bars and strange hotel rooms and the aroused men that went with them. A clean world. I reached out and trailed my hand through the cool water. Mist washed over my upturned face.
I glanced over at Ben. He was looking toward the chapel where two priests were talking. I took the chance to study him when he wasn't aware of me. He had a strong face, but it wasn't cruel like some men's were. His nose had a slight bump like it had been broken at one time. The dark hair I loved running my fingers through when he sucked me had a curl to it. The few times he smiled I saw a small gap between his teeth.
I wished he would smile more.
I shook the water off my hand and met his gaze. His dark eyes were alive with something that sent a bolt straight into my groin.
"I'm hungry. You?"
I realized I was. "Eat here, in town?"
"No reason to rush." Ben smiled. "Right?"
Since I would have followed him anywhere for that smile, it was easy to nod.
By the time we got a table at a seafood restaurant near the ocean it was dark. We watched the lighted freighters on their way toward the Port of Los Angeles, the even more distant lights of a gambling ship out past the three mile limit and Coast Guard ships on the lookout for bootleggers. The gentle sound of surf was only occasionally drowned out by a distant ship's horn or a burst of music or laughter from a cantina down the beach.
I had a
"She's temperamental."
"I can tell. So what do you call her?"
"Call her?"
"You seem like the kind of guy who gives his things names."
I opened my mouth to protest, then shook my head and laughed. "Greta."
"As in Garbo? I'm sure she'd be impressed."
Heat flooded my face and from the look of amusement on Ben's face I was blushing.
"Come on," he said. "Let's see if Greta can get us where we want to go."
* * * *
Santa Barbara, March 10, 1933
Santa Barbara was as pretty as the travel posters said it was. I was glad Ben agreed to come with me. I glanced over at him while I drove. Greta handled easy once she got on the road. She was just cranky in the morning, like I got sometimes after a too late night or a too rough client.
The sky was so blue it almost hurt to look at it. A light breeze wafted the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms into the car. Under it was the scent of the nearby ocean. Seagulls flew over the road and when I pulled into a parking lot off a beach, they were on the beach and in the waves along with some long-legged birds that danced over the wet sand, weaving in and out of the bigger, slower moving gulls.
Out on the water boats of all colors and sizes moved gracefully over the waves.
I sat in the car, entranced. "Beautiful."
Ben came to stand beside me. "Since neither one of us came dressed for the beach, I say we go some place where we're not going to stand out like pigs at a wedding."
"Like where?"
"We're here to sightsee, right? So let's go see some sights."
We toured all of old town. There were buildings under repair, the odd empty lot I figured must have had a structure on it at one time. Ben nodded when I mentioned that.
"Lot of places here were built from wood. It didn't hold up. This time around it's being done right. Stone and adobe."
We ended our tour at the mission, spectacular in the setting sun. The white walls blushed pink, deepening to red in the growing shadows. Breezes whispered through the palms and ornamental plants. Birds had gathered to nest for the night and the air was alive with their songs.
"Was the mission damaged in the earthquake?" I asked.
"A few columns fell. No one was hurt," Ben said. "They repaired it pretty fast."
Wandering through the gardens, nodding at the men and women we passed, and the black frocked priests we were in no hurry. A fountain spilled water into a stone lined pool. The air smelled like nothing I had ever experienced. It reminded me there were other places in the world besides smoke filled bars and strange hotel rooms and the aroused men that went with them. A clean world. I reached out and trailed my hand through the cool water. Mist washed over my upturned face.
I glanced over at Ben. He was looking toward the chapel where two priests were talking. I took the chance to study him when he wasn't aware of me. He had a strong face, but it wasn't cruel like some men's were. His nose had a slight bump like it had been broken at one time. The dark hair I loved running my fingers through when he sucked me had a curl to it. The few times he smiled I saw a small gap between his teeth.
I wished he would smile more.
I shook the water off my hand and met his gaze. His dark eyes were alive with something that sent a bolt straight into my groin.
"I'm hungry. You?"
I realized I was. "Eat here, in town?"
"No reason to rush." Ben smiled. "Right?"
Since I would have followed him anywhere for that smile, it was easy to nod.
By the time we got a table at a seafood restaurant near the ocean it was dark. We watched the lighted freighters on their way toward the Port of Los Angeles, the even more distant lights of a gambling ship out past the three mile limit and Coast Guard ships on the lookout for bootleggers. The gentle sound of surf was only occasionally drowned out by a distant ship's horn or a burst of music or laughter from a cantina down the beach.
I had a
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