The Black Stiletto: Stars & Stripes Read Free Page A

I then closedand locked the strongbox, stored it away, and shut the drawer. I carried the diary into the living room and sat in my comfy chair.
    I breathed deeply. I fought the unease that crept up my spine. It was going to be painful, but I couldn’t put it off any longer.
    I opened the diary and started to read, and I was back in the world of the Black Stiletto.

2
Judy’s Diary
1960
    J ANUARY 1, 1960
    Good morning, dear diary. Or should I say good afternoon? I slept past noon, and boy, am I hungover. Yuck. I feel crummy. It was a great party, though. I think. What I remember of it, ha ha.
    After I went back downstairs last night, the champagne really flowed. I made the mistake of also drinking a couple of Jack Daniel’s with Coke. By the time midnight rolled around, the gym was spinning. I never got sick, though. I don’t recall how I made it up to my room, but somehow I did.
    The only thing I
do
remember was what Lucy told me, just before the clock struck twelve. She and Peter made a date for their wedding. It’ll be in May, but now I’ve forgotten the exact day. She asked me to be her maid of honor, and I’m pretty sure I slurred, “I’ll be happy to, Looshy!”
    Gosh, it’s 1960. I can hardly believe it. A whole new decade. What will it bring? What kind of changes will we see? A bunch of them, or none at all? There’s a presidential election this year. It’ll be the first time I can vote in one. Actually, I was old enough in ‘56, but I didn’t do it. I don’t know why. I was too young to care then, I suppose. A new president always brings some changes, right? Now that I think about it, there’s a lot going on that could use some change.There’s a bunch of trouble in the world. The Communists over in Russia are a big concern. They have bombs. We have bombs. Now that Cuba is also Communist, people are worried that it’s so close. Will it lead to war? Gosh, I hope not. And then they’re training astronauts to fly into outer space. Will we go to the moon or to Mars? Wouldn’t that be something? And there’s a firecracker about to go off right here in America. The Negroes are demanding equal civil rights. Will Dr. King lead his people to victory? I hope there won’t be any violence.
    Well, my stomach tells me I shouldn’t be concerned about any of that right now. I need to go to the kitchen and put something in my belly before I
do
get sick. Maybe some toast and orange juice. I’m not sure I can handle eggs right now.
    Okay, Judy, put on your robe and make an appearance. I don’t think more beauty sleep is going to make much difference, ha ha!
    L ATER
    It’s nearly midnight again and I just came back from Bellevue Hospital.
    Oh my Lord, Freddie had a heart attack today! Dear diary, I’m so worried. The doctor says he’s going to be okay, but still, I’ve never seen Freddie look so bad. I swear I thought he was going to die in my arms.
    When I left off earlier, I went to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Freddie was there at the table with his newspaper and a plate full of uneaten scrambled eggs. They were cold. I didn’t know how long they were sitting there, but it must have been a couple of hours. Freddie was pale and had one arm around his chest. His brow was furrowed and he looked extremely uncomfortable.
    â€œFreddie? What’s wrong?”
    He just shook his head. “I must have had too much to drink last night. I have awful gas pains.”
    Freddie never had hangovers. He had the ability to swallowbooze as if it was water and smoke a couple of packs of cigarettes at the same time. It never fazed him.
    â€œHave you taken any Alka-Seltzer?” I asked as I went to the fridge to get the orange juice.
    â€œWe don’t have any.”
    â€œWell, shoot, Freddie, why didn’t you get me up? I’ll run out and get some for you.” I poured a glass of juice and looked back at