A Texas girl finds herself admiring a light in the sky only to find out it is indeed an alien, which transports her to another time long long ago in Africa and pairs her with a Neanderthal population in hopes that her descendants will populate Nort...
Sallie Mae Chege looked across the dark, noisy room, the strong din of people trying to talk above the noise of everyone else trying to do the same. The lights dimmed, and simultaneously the small stage at the one end of the room was drenched in a deep red, and a single note from an electric organ came over the sound system. Everyone became quiet and looked at what they knew would be a terrific performance by an up-and-coming band called the Iron Butterfly.
The Black Wall enjoyed the reputation for catapulting new groups into stardom almost overnight despite its unimpressive location; in the basement of a building in the middle of town. As the drums clacked, a sparkling mirror ball cast its cloud of tiny lights over the dance floor as the music boomed. Psychedelic lights pulsed slowly washing the entire studio with a colorful rhythm of paisley and distorted images in synchronization with the music.
She smiled and managed to get the attention of the bartender. Another vodker 'n tonic, she yelled at the top of her lungs. Her Kenyan accent turned some eyes her way. She wasn't sure if he had heard.
Fucking asshole, she said. But then suddenly he dropped a cold drink next to her hand. She had the money ready and slapped it on the bar, but he waved it off and directed her eyes to the other side of the bar crowded with those who either refused to dance or couldn't muster the nerve. All she saw was a hand waiving above the heads and shoulders of all the people who were glued together either drinking or waiting to find a suitable dance partner, and she followed the hand to the face it belonged to.
Who's that, she yelled at the bartender.
I don't know, he yelled exaggerating his mouth as if he was talking to a deaf person. Said you would know.
She looked again, trying to shut out the music. Screw it, she thought. If he wants to fuck me, he can make a bit more of an effort and get his ass over here. She turned away from the bar and scanned the floor, looking for her manager. He's probably dying to get outta here. Well, I'm not tired, and besides I don't tee off till three tomorrow.
Sallie was a top-ranked golfer playing the LPGA circuit. Because she was black and relatively unknown until one year ago, at least in the States, her manager told her she had to be clean and not get into any more trouble. And for god's sake, don't sleep with anyone, he told her. She glared back at him, that look that said; I always get what I want.
He quickly crumbled. Well not until after the tournament. Please, he pleaded. Let's get through this one tourney without a scandal. Okay love?
That was three hours earlier, before she decided to get out and sample the Haverford scene. Merion Country Club was home to an exclusive membership which, in 1969, hadn't yet accepted people of color as members.
And the name of Sallie Mae Chege can't afford scandal just now before your big break. He was nervous and for good reason. He had managed some of the toughest professional sports figures in Australia for ten years, and some of them managed to keep him busy with public relations, mostly patching up their indiscretions.
You're going to wow them tomorrow kid and I'd rather it be for your skill with the clubs than your talent in bed.
She took his pale face in her dark hand and squeezed his cheeks until he puckered like a fish. You never seem to mind Lovie.
Yes, but I'm not a Sheila.
Are you sure, she winked, and patted his cheek. Larry always made her smile. He wasn't a decent lover, but he was a great manager who, after all, did negotiate a spot for her in the LPGA.
She felt a light touch on her hand and turned to see a beautiful young girl smiling at her.
Hi Sallie, she beamed, great music huh?
Think girl, she thought, who the hell is this? If I had slept with her, I'd remember. She'd had a few too many drinks and was sure it impaired her short-term memory.
Oh yeah, it's great. Makes my pud quiver, it does.
The girl blushed.
You don't remember me do you, she said. We met last night. Jo, she said. JoAnne Harper.
Yes, of course, I remember, Sallie said sardonically. Old friends.
Oh, Jo said unaffected by her wry humor. Silly me, but I do know you. I'm a big fan.
Suddenly it occurred to Sallie that this young girl had bought the drink. Oh, she said with sudden awareness, you bought the drink just now. I saw you waiving, but I placed it with another head. I could only see the arm. So crowded isn't it?
Yes, and I love this place. They introduce so many new groups here. Dick Clark is here tonight. She looked around. There he is, she said jumping up and down. Do you want to meet him?
No, Sallie said, remembering her promise to Larry, no sleeping around.
Would you like to go somewhere else? Somewhere where we can talk quietly, alone, just you and me?
She smiled back not answering right away, half hoping she misread the girl's intentions. Are you a reporter or something? She asked none too pleasantly.
JoAnne answered by resting her hand on the golfer's.
Sallie Mae, felt a sudden flush come over her.
JoAnne smiled, and said, "There's a great coffee shop down the street, right next to the hotel.
Sure, Sallie felt an attraction towards this young woman but she knew who she could and couldn't engage in sexually, and JoAnne was not the type, or was she? She tossed her head towards the door and said, Come on. And led the way out.
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