Excerpt: Honor Guard

Casey fanned herself with a program flyer. It seemed she was the only one alone out there. The rumble of jets drew her attention. She couldn't yet see the Blue Angels and the sun burned too bright to stare at the sky.
She looked back to where Abby had walked. Where was she? It had been longer than ten minutes, more like thirty. She squinted and looked harder.
A tall man in a tattered fishing hat was jerking a woman's arm at the edge of the lined-up vendors' booths. The woman pushed away from him and tried to run. He shoved her and she fell. The man dropped to shove a bony knee into her back.
"Hey!" Casey said. The jets were closer, drowning out all sounds on the ground. She started toward the booths.
The man grabbed the woman's arm and slapped her left cheek.
"Stop!" Casey tried to run, but there were too many people in her way. She saw a base police officer and ran to him.
"There is a man attacking a woman over there." She pointed toward the booths.
The cop ran to where she had pointed, his right hand on the butt of a holstered gun. Casey followed.
The tall man and the woman were no longer there. She watched the L.E., an Air Force Law Enforcement Officer, check behind the row of food vendor booths.
"Are you sure they were here Ma'am?" He said.
The jets soared overhead in synchronized rolls and turns.
"They were right here." She said moving to the corner of the closest booth. "He pushed her down!"
The L.E. looked up to the performing F-15s.
"Yeah? You sure she didn't just trip and fall?"
Casey waited until the jets were done with the pass so she wouldn't have to shout.
"He was attacking her!"
"Ma'am, There is no one here." He said wiping a sweaty brow. "There isn't anything I can do."
"But…"
"If you see them again, and if the woman is injured, then you come get me."
"Okay." What else could she say? Casey turned once more to look behind the row. He didn't believe her; but she knew what she saw. The woman had looked terrified and the man seemed out for blood.
Why? The man looked homeless with his baggy and worn-out clothes; but if he had been looking for a handout wouldn't he have targeted someone who looked like they had something to give? The woman's clothes looked as sad as her attacker's. Worse even.
A group of men moved in behind her. Laughing and jostling, one bumped against her and spilled his drink on her shoulder before moving on.
"Hey!"
He turned and flung an arm up in a half-wave. A quick flick of his wrist coupled with, "sorry," seemed to be a dismissal.
Am I really that invisible? Casey thought as she tried to brush off the sticky drink.