Finally uniformed security and the spiffily dressed valets appeared in the crowd of press. They began to push them back, an inch at a time. The cab tried to ease forward, but even with the guards and valets we were stopped.
The cabbie turned around and looked at us. You want to just give up?
I think were going to have to, Jason said.
I looked out in time to see a guard and a photographer get into a pushing match.
I cant get through this, the cabbie said.
Jason looked at me. If I hadnt done the kiss in the alley Id say fuck them, but its my fault.
I just looked at him. I mean, what was I supposed to say? Hed wanted to cause a scandal, and hed succeeded.
A uniformed security person knocked on the window. Jason opened it a crack. The man said, I think you should come back inside, Mr. Summerland. We need more people to guarantee your safety, and theyre going to follow you wherever you go. Its not safe.
What do you want us to do?
Another guard pushed in against the window; he stumbled as if he was being shoved from behind. We cant clear the road enough for the taxi to move, unless we start busting heads.
We dont have permission for that, the first guard said. That seemed to imply that with permission they would have happily waded into the press. What kind of guards were they?
Were going to force them back, and then you get out of the taxi. Theres enough of us to form a circle around you both. Stay in the center and itll be fine. His mouth was saying fine, but his eyes werent as certain.
I leaned around Jason. Well be stampeded.
No, maam, well protect you. Its our job.
Hell keep us safe, Jason said, because otherwise the governor will be very, very unhappy with him. With all of them. Isnt that right?
The uniformed guard licked his lips. His eyes actually showed too much white. He was well and truly scared. Either his nerve was weak, or Governor Summerland was scarier than your average politician. Or maybe it was the whole lose-your-job thing; yeah, that might do it.
Yes, sir, he said.
He turned and started shouting orders to the other uniforms.
You spooked him on purpose, I said.
I did.
Why?
He motioned at the mob they were pushing back. The guard was right; unless were willing to get rough, we could get hurt. I dont want to take another beating for Keith.
They pushed them back, like a weird version of a football scrimmage line, except with cameras and microphones. The reporters were shouting at us, at the guards, at each other, so that it was noise like a storm, so all the sounds combined into one roar of unintelligible noise.
When there was room, the nervous guard opened the door for Jason. I wasnt sure it was a good idea, but I didnt have a better one. He got out and helped me out of the cab.
I thought we would go blind from the flashes before wed moved two feet. I clung to Jasons hand, trying to shield my vision and wondering what the hell Id done with my sunglasses. If Id ever needed them, it was now.
There were cries of Keith, Keith!
Jason waited for a little lull in the murmurous noise. He spoke loud and clear, My name is Jason Schuyler.
They didnt believe him. They said so. They also pressed in on the circle of men protecting us. We came to a standstill on the sloping driveway. The guards and valets kept them back but couldnt move forward.
Jason shouted this time, My name is Jason Schuyler. Who wants proof? He got out his wallet. Who wants to put my drivers license on camera?
There was a lot of jostling for that, and while they argued over who got it, I whispered, Cover your number and address.