I still wanted Bill, but I knew I had to do things on my schedule, not his. So I resisted the urge to go home and try to mend my fences. I called Ryan - since Bill was well aware of my whereabouts there was no reason to hide.

 
Ryan: Lass, he's not been back since he left to chase ye down.

Deb: No way.
 
Ryan: We've seen neither hide nor hair of him, wee one. Ye have a 
new beast, though.
 
Deb: Hewey? How does he like it?

Ryan: Hewey's first rate. The llama had her kid, or whatever ye call 
baby llamas. Jade's named it Dingdong.

Deb: Oh, dear God...Rama Llama and Dingdong.

It was the first time I had really laughed in over two weeks and 
it felt strange to me. Ryan patiently waited my fit out.

Ryan: Would ye like me t'call ye if he turns up?

Deb: Yes, please, Ryan.

Ryan: Ye miss the amadon?

Deb: Yes, I do...and now I know what you're calling him.

Ryan: The pot calls the kettle black.

Deb: It sure does. Tell everybody I miss them.

Ryan: Consider it done...and, lass, I have a message from Samuel.

Deb: What's the message?

Ryan: He says..ye worked too hard to catch the big feckin' eejit 
to throw him away with both hands. Ye're t'listen to your big 
brother and hold on to what ye have.

Deb: Tell him his message is received and understood. I plan to try.

The trip off the island had been a major success. I'd picked up 
some minor supplies - soap and toilet paper type stuff, then gone 
to see a movie. When I returned home, I found Augustus scarfing up 
the last of a bowl full of food.

Deb: Gus! Where've you been?

The dog shot through the door trying to tuck his nonexistent 
tail between his legs. I followed him to the door, calling him 
back, but he had disappeared into the woods.
 
I gave up and turned back into the house...and from where I stood 
I saw that the dryer door had been left open. The interior was 
still warm to the touch and a dryer sheet lay limply in the bottom.
I went upstairs to put my soap away and discovered...the bottom of 
the tub was wet. I had showered the night before. There was no 
reason in the world why there should be water in the tub, and I 
was troubled as I ran my fingers through the droplets beaded up on 
the porcelain. I had done it again, gone off like a cheap alarm 
clock and there was no Bill anywhere. I wondered who was out in 
the toolies, twenty miles from noplace at all let alone what kind 
of sick fuck would break into a house only to wash his clothes and 
take a shower. I knew the dogs would have warned me had they been 
around, but they were no good to me as long as they were out in the 
woods running deer and killing skunks to roll in them once they had 
fermented. I was scared, and willing to bet that whoever had made
use of my facilities knew it.  I took to locking the cabin at night. 
What a colossal joke. Sam had known nobody would pester the place - 
it went a step beyond isolation. The locks on the doors were mere
formalities.

I went into town once again the following week. The trip was an 
unnecessary one but I was getting to the point where getting off 
the island was a novelty. I didn't stay long, only hung out to 
have my claws refurbished and to buy laundry detergent and eat a 
meal someone else had cooked. The movie hadn't changed and there 
were no new books. For about three seconds I stood in front of the 
kind of cutesy 'country' craft shop that gave me cramps and 
considered going inside. I could take up counted cross stitch or, 
God save me from myself, quilting. I bolted for the truck and got 
the hell out of there before I could finish sending myself around 
the edge.

Woodrow, enormous and dignified, was stretched out on the concrete 
by the door, taking the sun and watching his idiot brother chase 
fish. He came to me, regarded me with calm brown eyes, then sat 
beside me and pushed his blunt head into my hand. As I dropped to
my knees to talk to the dog, Augustus came screaming up, shaking 
himself off and smelling like wet shit. I was too happy to see them 
both to care all that much.

I stopped just inside the door. Shirtless in the mild heat, Bill 
was asleep on the couch. His near hand lay on the floor while the 
far paw rested on the washboard abs. His mouth was open slightly 
and he snored very softly. The man was utterly relaxed. Woodrow 
padded over and stretched out beside the hand, dropping his head 
to briefly apply his tongue to the palm. Bill never moved, and this 
struck me strangely because normally the second he sensed someone 
in the room with him he would have been on his feet. I didn't think 
I had ever seen him so in the time I had known him.

The television was putting out an afternoon's round of confusion 
and as I stood there the dryer buzzed. Bill's hair was damp and 
curling, freshly washed. I grinned at the horizontal figure...I 
should have guessed that my intruder was also going to be my 
protector.

I moved quietly around him, shut off the television and went to 
unload the dryer. He seemed to have little more than a change of 
clothes - there were two t-shirts, a pair of jeans and some boxers 
and socks in the machine. He and Sam were of a similar size and
all of Sam's things were still in the drawers. I would raid them 
for Bill if necessary. I left the folded clothes on the dryer and 
headed back outside. The dogs could racket around and he could sleep 
in peace that way. I stretched out on the lounger and napped in the 
sun myself. Between Bill and the dogs I felt safe for the first 
time in weeks.

Later in the afternoon a stiff wind kicked up from across the 
lake. Stereotypically, clouds were piling up in the west and 
it looked like it would eventually be a dark and stormy night. 
I heated some chicken vegetable soup, hoping that the smell might 
rouse the boy.  He had rolled onto his side at some point. That 
was the only evidence I had that he was still alive. The smell 
of warm food didn't do anything for him. I spread a flannel sheet 
over him and started closing up the place as the first wind driven 
raindrops hit the windows. Augustus, who hated thunder with the 
same passion he gave to things he enjoyed, like eating and smells, 
whimpered. Bill moved a big hand to the dog's back and Gus quieted. 
Bill didn't budge.

At midnight I decided it was time to go upstairs.

Deb: Billy? Come on...upstairs, let's go...

I spoke softly, touched him gently. Somehow I managed to get 
him up to the big bed without waking him completely. The dogs 
took places on the rag rugs and I settled beside Bill.

I slept securely until three or so, when a close lightening 
strike sent Gus to shivering under the blankets after prancing 
lightly across Bill's groin, and Bill to roaring at him.  Gus 
flatly refused to move and no amount of yelling or threatening 
would shift him.  Seeing that Augustus was a lost cause, and that
he had long since been discovered, Bill did the usual...took the
bull by the horns and wrestled it into the dirt.

Bill:  Thought you were through with me.

Deb:  I guess I lied.

I could sense him gearing up to push this.

Deb:  Shut up, Bill.  You don’t need to say a word, so shut up.

Bill:  You’re always tryin’ to get something out of me.

Deb:  This has never been about getting you to talk. It’s been 
about you being a self-absorbed dork.

Bill:  Girl, you wanna…

I cut him off.

Deb:  It’s raining awfully hard and I expect wherever you’ve 
been sleeping is in the lake and I’m really happy you’re here.  
Leave it alone, Billy, please.

I touched his hand beneath the blanket and was surprised by 
how readily and firmly he gripped it.

For a long time we lay silently, Gus quivering between us. 
Bill’s thumb moved restlessly over the back of my hand and I 
found myself able to relax despite the noise outside.

Bill:  You goin’ to sleep?

Deb:  I think so.

Bill:  I’m takin a shower, then.  Can’t sleep with Bullwinkle J. 
Moose down there, anyway.

With no further preamble, Bill rolled out of bed and padded 
into the bathroom.  Instantly I lost any ideas I might have had 
about sleeping.  I lay in the dark, feeling Gus shake every time 
thunder cracked.  A particularly loud one once prompted a soft 
groan from Woodrow.  The water went on in the shower and the sound 
was comforting — Bill was in the house again and nothing was going 
to happen.  I couldn’t even imagine the weather or God in His 
heaven tangling with Strannix.

But Bill was an economic sort of person.  He wasted little time on 
hygiene — in the shower, wash the hair, brush the teeth, clean the 
body and out, five minutes max.  When he passed the ten minute mark, 
something told me to check on him.

Time moved in a rather strange fashion for Bill in the cabin.  
Things were occurring that hadn’t in years, Christ maybe even decades.  
Shit churning in his head would not, for the first time in a very 
long while, disappear, back down, or even quiet for a few moments. 
The stillness of the outdoors that he had avoided in past years 
for whatever reason had given him solitude and a chance to think, 
without borders, without limitations.  There was no reason to be 
the badass.  Who was there to protect against?  What was there to
prove?
  
Yet he had not bargained on this.

He sighed, felt a wall go up in his head, felt the old system 
kick in, and turned on the spray, stood underneath the nearly 
scalding water for a few minutes before he realized he was 
avoiding the necessary step in cleaning oneself.  

Bill:  Christ.

He grabbed the hunk of soap in frustration and began to scrub 
his arms and chest, eyes squeezed shut against the hot water and 
other things he sought to avoid.  When he felt her hands, gentle 
on his back, he stopped, tried to control his breathing.  He held 
the soap to his chest, rested his forehead against the wall.  

Deb:  You okay?  You’ve been in here a while.

He cleared his throat.
  
Bill:  Fine. Great.  Dead fucking brill.  

The last he’d picked up from Ryan, and would have gotten away 
with the sentiment had he not said it, his voice cracking through 
‘fucking.’
  
Her hands continued to soothe him, and he persisted in trying to 
melt into the wall.
  
I stroked the tense shoulders — they were like steel under my 
hands — and I felt like I was getting nowhere.  If nothing else, 
he felt as though he was stiffening up.  My hands started to
hurt and the water was getting cold.  At length, after a 
creditable attempt, I gave up.

Deb:  You need to deal with this, Billy.  I’m going back to bed.  
Come on when you’re ready.

I went back, turned on the light and set to reading, one ear 
cocked for sounds of activity in the bathroom.  I heard the water 
go off long after the little water heater should have given up in 
despair.  The outside conniption masked the softer noises from the 
bathroom so I had no idea what he was doing until he rejoined me.  
His face was less pained, so apparently I had done the right thing 
by leaving him alone.

He parked himself on the edge of the bed.  I closed my book and 
waited for him.

Bill:  Why’d you toss me out before?

I dropped my eyes briefly and toyed with my book.  Generally 
he was a lot easier to deal with when he was in asshole gear.  
When he was controlled and quiet, he made me unsure of myself.

Deb:  I wasn’t ready to deal with you yet.  You know me so well, 
know just what to do and say to me to get what you want.  You 
figured you’d come in here and make with the body and the charm 
and I’d do whatever you wanted me to.  I had issues of my own.

It was Bill’s turn to hang his head.

Deb:  Where were you?  When the dogs disappeared, I just naturally 
assumed they’d gone with you.

Bill:  Other side of the island.

Deb:  You didn’t care that I might find you?

Bill laughed.

Bill:  Oh, yeah...you were gonna get out there with the mosquitoes 
and the skunks, werentcha, nature girl.  No, I know you--wouldn’t 
catch you in the woods ‘less I dragged ya.

Deb:  I walked last time we were here!

Bill:  And made me check ya stem to stern for ticks and bitched 
up a storm the whole time.  No, baby… I knew I was safe.

Deb:  Why didn’t you just go home?

Bill:  And leave you out here all by yourself?  Shit, girl.  You 
don’t know what’s in the woods.

He grinned.

Deb:  You are.  That’s scary enough.

TO BE CONTINUED...

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page