Still Looking for Peace and Quiet

Daya arrives at a book signing, but people still won't leave her alone

At the large Borden Books bookstore in town, the latest Judith French thriller was out. In fact, the author herself, Lori Richards, was there to sign copies of her latest work. As a devoted fan, Daya Coffman couldn't have been more excited.

Daya Coffman was a 5'6" black woman with dark skin, shoulder length black wavy hair, and a pear-shaped build that ended with strong legs with muscular thighs. She was a college student who participated in track and basketball, and was well liked by most students. Lately, her two best friends had thrust another role on her besides the role of student, and that was sensei. Daya was also a black belt in aikido, and was approaching near master status in the Chinese martial art of Chin Na. Her friends thought she was such an excellent practitioner of both disciplines, they talked her into teaching classes in a school gym. Despite Daya's initial protests, the class was doing really well, and she couldn't complain about the extra money in her pocket either. But between school and teaching, she was left with less free time to pursue one of her first loves, reading. She secretly kept a few hours of time for herself, lest her two best friends find out, and schedule another student for her to teach. She didn't understand, Rosie and Theresa earned their belts the same time she did; why weren't they teaching any classes? In any case, she was here now, standing in line with her copy of Judith French's latest novel, so she can receive her autograph.

She dressed a little special for this day, wearing a variation similar to an aikido uniform: a long sleeve white blouse, and a long black skirt. The skirt was floor length, so no one could see her feet. Carrying a long hatred of shoes, to not offend or draw attention, Daya wore pants and more often skirts and dresses that hid her bare feet. However, as excited as things were in the place, she could have wore shorts and no one would have bothered to look down to see feet wit toe rings, white toenail polish, an ankle bracelet, and nothing else.

The last novel was part of a series of previous novels, promising to answer the questions asked by the other four books. After Daya received Judith's authograph, she couldn't wait any longer. She rushed to the bookstore's lounge, bought herself a cup of herbal tea, and then sat herself down on one of the comfortable couches in the middle of the store.

Sitting lotus style on the couch, and already devouring the first few pages, Daya heard the familiar sound of someone wearing clogs with no socks. It was a sound she knew well, because she owned a pair of those "Croc" clogs for when she positively, absolutely had to wear footwear. The only reason this sound even caught her notice was because the sound was coming closer. Having a strange feeling about this, Daya peeked over her book.

In front of her were gray Crocs, bare, pale ankles, followed by gray sweatpants, a gray hooded sweatshirt, and a now familiar face smiling at her.

"Hello Daya, remember me?" She said.

Daya looked a little closer at the woman. The face was familiar, then she realized the brown hair was dyed blond and now much shorter, not extending much further than the end of her earlobes.

"It's me, Deborah," she continued.

"Yes, I remember you," Daya said slowly.

Deborah was 5'7" and slim. An ex-boyfriend, Michael, once hit on Daya, which included the groping of Daya's posterior. Daya responded in kind by giving him a numb arm. In response, Deborah dropped him, and started dating another man. However, this man was a skinhead, and when she encountered Daya in a coffeehouse, she summoned Wolfgang, the boyfriend, to attack Daya for what she'd done to Michael, and because she was wearing the wrong shade of skin at the time. Daya left the coffeehouse with Wolfgang and five of his buddies in a battered, bruised heap. Deborah had fled the scene much earlier. In the end, Daya gained another student, who was doing quite well with her lessons.

"Yes, I remember. Last time you sent your skinhead boyfriend to beat me up because I beat up your previous boyfriend who couldn't keep his hands off my butt," Daya continued, mentally checking to make sure she had her story straight.

"Oh, Wolfgang. I dropped that loser," Deborah replied.

"Good!"

"And that "White Power' stuff gets so old so fast; it denies reality, you know?"

"Yeah," Daya nodded, trying to be patient to hear the woman's apology so she could get back to reading.

"Well after that, I went on a search to find myself, and I learned a few things. Then one day, I was complete."

"Good."

"It was in this very store, as I passed the Women's Issues section and ventured into the Gay Interest section, and found . . . her."

Daya slowly turned around and saw . . . her. She was 5'9", had long wavy blond hair, and was very buff. There was no doubt she was a bodybuilder. Daya for a moment wondered if she was on the "juice." She wore a red hooded sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and white trainers.

Deborah seemed to read her mind. "No, she's clean, in case you're wondering," she said. "Karen has taught me everything there is to know about "Girl Power,' and fighting male domination."

"Well men have some uses," Daya remarked.

"Like what? With men, we have been slaves, second-class citizens, and invisible. What use does a man have," Deborah argued.

"Without them, we wouldn't be here."

"Well there's no way around that, but they're no match for the full aspects of Girl Power, including girl love." At this, Deborah ran her fingers down Karen's meaty biceps on her left arm. Karen just gave a satisfied grin.

Okay . . . Daya thought.

"When I was in this bookstore some time ago, I was a lost and lonely woman. But as soon as I rounded the corner at that isle over there-" Deborah pointed to the row that separated Women's Issues and Gay Interest, "I met Karen, and suddenly my life has changed."

Daya, who's as straight as a board, had no reason to even go near the Gay Interest section, but she heard rumors that there were people who hovered around the area looking for those of like mind or the mildly curious. Apparently the rumors were true.

"You two look, uh rather happy," Daya said awkwardly.

"Yes, I think the world of my little golden goddess," Deborah said sweetly to Karen, wrapping two arms around her waist.

Now Daya was on the verge of nausea. It was time to wrap this up.

"Well I'm going to get back to my book," she said, hoping the lovebirds would get the hint. They didn't.

"I told Karen there was one thing I wanted her to perform to prove her love for me. Are you still willing, darling?" Deborah said.

"Yes, my princess," Karen replied in a husky voice. Daya was wondering if she spoke at all.

"I want you to crush Daya for me."

"What?" Daya exclaimed.

"Yes, my queen," Karen answered.

"So what happened to "Girl Power,' girl love, and all that other stuff?"

"I believe it, but the thing is you did beat up two of my boyfriends," Deborah explained. "I can't let that go."

"I refuse to fight in this bookstore!" Daya demanded. "This matter will have to be resolved another time, and another place."

"Oh I agree. That's why we picked the alley behind the bookstore. In case you change your mind, Karen, could you take off your sweatshirt for a moment?"

Karen took it off, revealing a white tank top T-shirt. She then flexed her arm and chest muscles. This also caught the attention of nearby readers as well.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Daya said, unimpressed.

The three women politely marched out the doors of the bookstore, down the sidewalk, to an alley that had the usual dumpster, and a large quantity of cardboard boxes. Many boxes were already broken down, but there were still quite a few that were in their original shape.

What is it with me reading books in public? Daya thought. The last time she did this, she was fighting off a bunch of skinheads. Now she has the sequel of that novel in her hands, and before she could finish the first chapter (Daya was a fast reader), this woman and her muscle-bound lover show up. Maybe it was the books she was reading.

As they approached the alley, Karen said, "Don't worry, little one, I'll just give you a little spanking. It'll be over real quick."

"No darling, I need you to crush her, destroy her, show your physical superiority as you do so," Deborah cooed.

"Yes, my queen," Karen replied as she again removed her sweatshirt and displayed some double biceps poses.

"Oh I love it when you do that; it makes me weak at the knees," Deborah swooned.

Daya groaned. Never mind the beating, it was all this sweet talk that was going to make her die of saccharine poisoning. She was originally going to remain silent and get it over with, but now she had to say something.

"My parents were the only ones who spanked me, and that was until I was sixteen, where I was able to face the consequences of my own actions. I'm not a child, so don't treat me like one. And concerning all this posing, look at this," she said as she rolled up the right sleeve on her blouse. When she flexed that arm, a nice sizeable muscle appeared on her bicep. "And now look at this." She pulled up her skirt, and displayed her left leg, showing off her musculature. For a few moments, both women were speechless.

"I play basketball, and I throw the javelin, and sometimes shot-put in track," Daya continued. "I perform my own little type of workout everyday, which includes weights and dance to keep my muscles toned. So no, your poses don't impress me, and as for your "little one' remark, I'm not that much shorter than you, and we may weigh the same if I'm not a little heavier."

"Dance?" Deborah said.

"Yes, modern dance conditions the muscles, and helps with coordination. Regarding my muscles, a sumo scout came by once and asked me to consider joining their team. The only reason I refused was because my schedule was busy enough."

Karen, nearly feeling a little intimidated, changed the subject. "Where are your shoes?" She asked.

"If Deborah told you anything about me, she should've told you I don't wear any. By the way, has your girlfriend told you much about the way I beat up her last boyfriend and his pals?"

"They were all wimps!" Deborah exclaimed.

"Yeah, big wimps too, all six of them," Daya remarked.

"It doesn't matter, love; you're more stronger and powerful than she is! Her meager muscles are no match for yours."

"Which is why I won't be using them."

"What?" Karen said.

"Go crush and destroy her!" Deborah demanded.

Part of Karen's arsenal was to first intimidate her prey with her size, build, and muscles. Since that didn't work, and her foe had some muscles of her own, there wasn't going to be a cowering victim for her to beat on. So it was time for Plan B ' just beat her with her fists into a quivering ball of jelly.

"This won't take long," Karen said.

"Beat her, my love," Deborah replied.

Karen was further taken off guard by Daya's stance, or the lack of one.

"What are you waiting for?" She demanded.

"I'm waiting for you," Daya said, matter-of-factly.

Something about that response angered Karen, and so she charged forward, preparing to fire a right cross that would knock Daya's block off. Daya didn't dodge the punch so much as she sidestepped it. She then grasped Karen's wrist and spun in the direction that the punch was going. Karen found herself pulled along, with the tide, until Daya suddenly responded with a forearm against her chest that slammed her back first on the ground.

Karen was very close to being knocked out; instead, she managed to just have the breath knocked out of her. Daya stood nearby, waiting. Daya thought it would be so easy at that moment to place a chin na hold that would take her out, but instead, she decided to wait for her to get up. With Deborah shouting encouragement, Karen got up slowly. When she felt better, she went at Daya again, this time with a left jab. However, just like last time, it ended the same way. Again, Daya allowed her to get up.

Now Karen was really mad. She was just going to rough this woman up a little, but instead, she was making her look like a fool in front of her girlfriend. All those hours in the gym, plus a number of back alley fights against women and men alike, and this woman was making her look like a wimp. Okay, going for the head was a bad idea, but her chest wouldn't be easy to miss. She immediately stood up, and propelled herself, throwing a mighty right hand to Daya's gut.

With a brush of her hand, Daya batted the blow away. She then pulled Karen in the same direction her punch was going, and brought her around in a circle before clothes lining her to the ground again. Karen was wheezing while Daya came by and stood over her.

"You don't know what's happening, do you?" Daya asked as she bent over Karen's prone form. "What I did was turn your own strength against you. The harder you attack me, the worse off you get, so it's like you're fighting yourself. Why don't you do us both a favor and forget the whole thing, okay? I have no desire to hurt you; heck, I don't even know you. So what do you say?"

Karen slowly got up and looked at Daya. She could just forget the whole thing, but she decided not to for three reasons. One, she became a bodybuilder so she could be tough, intimidating, and if necessary, brutal. In fact, she liked being the last one. Two, her newfound girlfriend requested this woman's punishment, and she wanted to please her mistress and partner. Three, there was another attack she hadn't tried yet.

Karen suddenly lunged forward, making a grab for Daya's legs. Once she yanked her legs and brought her down, pounding her should be simple. Daya however, was not that easy to bring down. She managed to plant her legs slightly back so Karen could not disrupt her balance, and then looped her right arm around her neck in a neck cradle. Following the old adage of where the head goes, the body follows; Daya turned Karen's head to the right as she lowered them both down to the ground slowly. Karen was still struggling to get free, so Daya switched her neck crank to a choke to bring her under control. When she was almost out, Daya released her. Enough of this, she thought.

"Okay Deborah, now it's your tur-" she started as she turned around, only to find that Deborah was gone. This woman had a habit of disappearing when things didn't go her way. She would have to change that the next time they met.

"Princess, princess?" Karen called weakly from the ground.

"Forget it, she's gone," Daya replied. "In fact, don't be surprised if she breaks up with you tomorrow. Just ask Michael and Wolfgang; they'll tell you."

But Karen didn't heed what Daya said. Instead, she got up and staggered down the alley calling Deborah's name, and the little pet names she had called her.

Daya exhaled a breath. Well that was over; now to get back in the bookstore and continue reading where she left off in that book. There shouldn't be any disruptions this time.

"Daya, there you are!" Daya heard when she left the gallery. The voice belonged to Rosie, a 5'5" Hispanic woman with a medium build and shoulder-length black hair. She wore a white short sleeve hooded sweatshirt, green sweatpants, and no shoes.

"Have you been fighting again?" She asked.

"What gave you that idea?" Daya asked innocently.

"That woman who ran out of the alley calling for somebody. She's pretty big too, from the looks of her."

Daya sighed. "Deborah started it. She sent that Xena wannabe to try to beat me up."

"We already guessed that; we saw her run out of the alley a minute before the other woman did," Theresa said. She was a 5'6" woman with long, wavy brunette hair. She also wore no shoes, with a red long-sleeve shirt, and blue jeans. "So what were you doing this time?"

"I was reading a book. I was reading a book that I had autographed, and suddenly Deborah and her girlfriend shown up. She told me how much her life had changed, and then ordered her girlfriend to beat me up."

"She seems to have some fixation with you. We'll have to take care of that later."

"Yeah Theresa, I'll take care of that." Daya's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Wait a minute, why are you two here in the first place?"

"I'm glad you asked," Rosie perked up. "We found not one, not two, but three students for you to teach in our aikido classes. And the fun part? They already have a green belt, so you don't have to start from scratch. They are all dying to meet you. We figured you might be hiding out here, so we thought we'd stop by and look. And here you are."

"I've been meaning to ask you two, why aren't you two teaching? You received your black belts the same time I did, "Daya said while double-checking her purse to make sure her new book was in it.

"Because we're busy recruiting," Theresa replied. "And the more people we recruit, the bigger your classes are; and the bigger your classes are, the more money that's in our pockets."

"Besides, we do lead the class in warm-ups and drills; we leave the actual teaching to you," Rosie explained. "Now come on, you've got to meet these girls."

As the three of them shuffled along, Daya turned to give a mournful glance at the bookstore. She was actually pleased their little dojo had developed a life of its own, but was there anywhere in the city a woman could read a book, and not be bothered?

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