It is odd that I should think of Lily and miss her after so many years of doing neither.
We worked the swing shift as security officers and were often paired up on the casino floor or the hotel hallways. She is a petite Latina, born in Nicaragua, but tough as nails when push comes to shove.
One evening, three out-of-town thugs cornered her near the elevators in the back area. She had caught them in the employee area and had asked them to leave.
Instead, they pounded on her till she was on the ground. Not knowing what was happening to Lily, I came around the corner, having relieved the lead dispatcher for her lunch.
Without thought, I aced the first woman in the head as she stepped back into me. She did not see it coming, toppling over unconscious.
Then I stomped on the outside back of the guy’s knee as he kicked Lilly. The crunch was immaculate and satisfying.
The third person, another woman, tried to get her thumbnails in my eyes, but I upper-cut her, and she fell backward, unconscious.
Finally able to radio for assistance, Lily and I retreated to the safety of the security office, leaving other officers and our supervisors to give aid to the trio of criminals. Once safe, Lily asked me to check and treat her injuries.
“We should have a women officer do that.”
“Are you kidding? Too many lezzies, and I certainly don’t want G-String touching me.”
She removed her blouse and unfastened the front snap of her bra. There was a dark black and blue bruise on most of her left breast.
“You’ll need to get that looked at by a doctor. Could be damage under the skin.”
I held up my finger, “Be right back.”
Exiting the room, I retrieved a first aid kit from under the counter and a Polaroid camera. Back inside the room, I removed an ice pack, popped the fluid bag inside it, and shook it up.
Handing it to Lily, she placed it on the bruise, which was turning darker than I had ever seen one turn before. Next, I loaded the camera and had her place her fingers over her left breast, and I took three pictures from different angles to document her injury.
“Put your shirt back on, but don’t worry about your bra.”
“No, buts — you are not returning to work tonight, and if you have to, it’ll be light duty.”
“Not the employee desk.”
“No, front desk.”
A knock came on the door, and Lily quickly buttoned up her blouse before saying, “Come in.”
“What are you two doing?” our supervisor asked.
“I had Tom collect evidence for my report.”
“Get the hell outta here, Darby,” he commanded.
“No. I want Tom to be the reporting officer for this case. After all he stopped them from killing me.”
Our supervisor glared at me, closing the door behind himself as he left. Later, he wrote me up for insubordination.
The three creeps got hauled off to the local hospital and then to jail. Because charges got filed late, all charges got dropped, and the hotel/casino paid a hefty amount of money to make all lawsuits disappear.
Lily went to her doctor the following Monday. There, they discovered a benign lump of fat.
Shortly after the incident, they fired me, and I lost contact with Lily. I saw her one last time while working at a pizza shop.
“You know I’m single now and I know you like my boobs,” she teased me in private.
“Yeah,” I said, turning bright red with embarrassment, “And now I need an ice pack.”
We laughed and hugged before she got in her truck and headed east down the street. I returned to work.