8 comments/ 40708 views/ 20 favorites A Man on an Island Ch. 01 By: TaLtos6 ***This is the prequel to "A Red Maple Leaf and Ten Orchids". This is relatively short and it's about the struggles of Cale Taylor - the older brother of Josh Taylor, who is the male protagonist in the other story. This takes place a couple of years before Josh meets Kayla Fraser, but the two stories will come together as A Red Maple Leaf moves ahead very shortly. 0_o --------------- The strident blare of the alarm clock pulled Emma to the surface of consciousness against her will. Her mind wailed like a little girl's voice momentarily in protest and the thought struck her as funny, so she gave voice to the thought in the best imitation of herself at nine years-old that she could manage. "Awww-I-don't -WANNA-get-up!" she said, before reaching to try to hit the snooze bar, though if she was unsuccessful in reaching it, she was quite prepared to beat the snot out of the thing. She went through at least a couple of alarm clocks every year. She managed to silence the offensive device on the first try though, but as she tried to drift back below the surface; she hung on a nagging feeling, and gave it up. Sitting up, she was reminded of the reason for the feeling. She looked sadly at the mess left by the loud and melodramatic fight with her girlfriend Sherri. To top it off, her body decided to chime in that she felt like shit, so that it wouldn't be outdone. She'd been hours late for their date the evening before, and Sherri had had enough, finally. The mess was all that was left of her relationship now, outside of the ache in Emma's heart. She got up and slunk to the kitchen to fill the kettle for coffee. Her first thought was to book off sick at work and then spend the day trying to find Sherri, and do whatever it took to make this go away. But it seemed like they had these blow-ups almost quarterly, and she had tried to reach her girlfriend for hours to tell her that there was no way she could leave the floor. She'd been the only member of the triage staff there for hours. It wasn't even her job, but she'd had a few years of experience at it before her transfer, but with nobody else, she'd just stepped back into the role. There had been several no-shows in the staff, and her hospital's physical location meant that they were the hospital of choice for the paramedic crews bringing in the human wreckage from the highway. They'd eventually had to take themselves off the availability list and the crews had been redirected elsewhere. But Sherri wouldn't have understood anyway, she realized as she washed her face. She ran some hot water and wet her brush to drag it across her short hair. At least this was a godsend, she thought, it took maybe eight seconds to get her hair looking good. The kettle clicked off, and Emma made herself some instant. As the first of the caffeine reached her bloodstream, she found that she was bothered by a few more things. Despite her best intentions, Emma did find some time to feel sad, and that led to a bit of self-pity, and from there it was a short slide into misery. She sat in her kitchen and cried a little, but it came to her as a sudden surprise that after the last of Sherri's several explosions, Emma really didn't have it in her anymore to be miserable for too long. After a few Kleenexes, she found that she felt a lot better, and almost perked right up, having made the decision that this was the end of it for her. She decided against wasting days of her time stroking Sherri's enormous ego. She'd learned from the last time that Sherri wouldn't take any of her calls for days. Emma sighed and decided to just hang this one up. It was too weird a relationship anyway. Sherri spent months coaxing Emma into a dominant role, and then took pleasure in ripping her down for the slightest misstep. No, she thought, enough is enough. She had some time this morning. She could either spend it feeling miserable as she had last night, or she could force herself to get a grip and turn the page. She knew that work would keep her busy; she just needed to find something that would have the same effect until it was time to go in. She decided that the mess could wait until tomorrow, knowing that if she started tidying up now, she'd only end up on her bed crying again. She dressed quickly and opened the apartment door. She decided to change the lock, and since she'd never cared much about the style, she'd just change the whole damn thing and then drop a key with Mr. Cameron, the landlord. Emma didn't think her ex would come back ever, but to her mind, this was making a statement more to herself. She jumped into her car and headed for the hardware store. --------------------------- Cale listened to the beat of the engine cradled in the frame below the fuel tank and thought about his daughter as the road slid by under his feet. At 19 she was just trying out her wings, but he wished that she'd just take his offer and enroll in the local college. Samantha was his daughter, and he naturally worried for her. She always seemed to get comfortable in any situation. In his opinion, it caused her to settle for things too easily. He wished that she had more drive. He also wished that he might have been allowed to have an actual relationship with her during her formative years, but his ex had done an excellent job of precluding that. It was a long time ago now, but she'd managed to gain sole custody and from about the time that Sam could understand the spoken word, her mother had told her side of it. All that he was left with was a rather distant voice whenever he called Sam's cell -- unless she wanted money. He tried not to think about how close the apple had fallen to the tree. Coming back to himself, he went back to just enjoying the scenery. He could to recognize a lot of the crops in the fields. A smell came to him directly, instead of through dashboard vents. Somebody was spreading manure. Well, he thought, that's part of being in the scenery too. The big twin rumbled on contentedly between his calves. The break-in would be complete by the time he got back home, and he reminded himself again to check the oil when he put it into the garage. He'd been riding for decades, but this was his first Harley. He'd always admired them for their quality and value, but had never had the money for the price of admission. He was very happy with his choice. Out of their long product line, there were few models that appealed to him and his style of riding. He liked a bike that he could push occasionally and that would respond to it, but he knew that he wasn't twenty-one anymore either. Personal comfort had risen in his mind when he'd made this choice. As much as he loved riding, he was no longer enamored of bikes that kinked his back and neck or made his wrists ache afterward, no matter how prettily they howled and sang to him, begging for permission go supersonic. He now wanted a machine that could move out with a will, if necessary, but if he wanted to ride a long day, he insisted on a machine that he'd still be in love with by sundown. He came to the entrance to his street, but on a whim, he cancelled the turn signal, and blew right on by. He didn't have to be anyplace today. He felt like a coffee and a bite to eat, anyhow. He slowed well below the posted speed reduction at the school and checked his mirrors. Nobody. Cale purposely entered the S-curve late. He dropped a gear, and deliberately flicked the beast on its ear, rolling on a bit of gas as he did so. The iron horse responded instantly, and thundered its enthusiasm as it came back to the posted limit within a second. He held it right there on the money. It was a school zone after all -- even if it was out in the middle of nowhere with no houses within about a half a mile, and even though the school and its yard were set well back from the road. Cale pulled up at the flashing red light in Everton. Seeing some traffic, he tried to find neutral to make the wait more comfortable. Looking at the instrument console, he saw the bright green 'N' flash as he went past it into second. He pressed the selector, and got the same response going into first. It took three tries before it finally stayed lit. He put his left boot down and shifted his butt on the saddle. He hoped that would eventually get easier as it wore in. The farmer on the big John Deere nodded as he turned left in front of him. Cale had no idea who the man was, but acknowledged the gesture with a slight wave. He selected first gear, and let out the clutch to continue south down to Highway 98. Such a nice day. Checking his fuel gauge, and decided to fill up, pulling up to a pump in the station at 98 and the top end of Highway 60. One of the things that had always appealed to Cale was the deliberateness that a stop required, far more than was necessary with a car. There were just too many ways to screw things up on a bike. He'd actually seen a guy pull up for gas while distracted, and forget to put down the stand. He'd just gotten off as he leaned it onto the stand that wasn't there. That mistake had caused a bit of damage to both machine and rider. A downed bike could be a bitch to pick up again too. The girl that the young man had been checking out did pay attention, but it hadn't been what he'd had in mind. Cale himself wasn't concerned about his image, but there could be few things more humbling than committing an error like that. His tank full and the bill paid, Cale set about his personal mental checklist before heading out again. There was a thirty-something woman with an exasperated expression on her pinched face with a pack of kids waiting impatiently behind him to get to the pump. He didn't much care. There were seven other pumps that she could be at, all of them unoccupied. He'd had no idea that he was tying up her personal favorite. It was more important to him to remember all of the details. He'd hurried once at a gas stop to be considerate, and later found that he'd ridden 30 miles without having done up the chinstrap on his helmet. She backed up, and drove around him making a point of trying to inconvenience him by doing her best to block his exit. She got out, and did her thing while bellowing threats to keep her brood in line. Her sweatpants had the word 'EVERLAST' across her ample rear. I doubt that very much, he thought, it looks like it hasn't even lasted this long. The relative ages of the children told him that there was a likelihood that they were all hers, but he was pretty sure there were more than two gene pools represented. He smiled behind his tinted faceshield. He'd had absolutely no idea how important she was. Why if he'd had only known that she was the empress of the known universe...well, ... He'd have done the same thing, pretty much. He rolled backward, and pulled back out onto the highway. As long as she was someone ELSE'S bitch-queen, he thought. Cale tried to have at least one happy thought every day. --------------------------- Emma found a style of door handle and lock that she'd always liked -- a bit of a retro look to it, and it was on sale. She was just working her way out of the lot when her eye caught the sign of the coffee shop across the street. She smirked; theirs tasted better than hers any day. A quick lane change and twenty seconds later she was sliding into a vacant spot outside. She'd just gotten around the corner of the building, headed for the doors when her eyes was drawn to the reflective glass surface of the window. She looked past her own reflection, focussing deeper to see just how long the line-up at the counter might be when she noticed Sherri turning away from the counter, trying to balance the take-out tray and her sandwich. Sherri loved the green tea that they served there and always bought three to take her through the rest of her work day. -------------------- Cale pulled into the lot of the coffee shop, and looked for an empty slot away from the other bikers. He had nothing against them, some of them looked vaguely familiar to him. Today he just wanted to be a bit apart from the donut shop-to-donut shop crowd. He saw an open spot on the far side of a dark blue Lexus sedan and pulled up. He finally found neutral, switched off the ignition, and the bike chirped. He unfolded the side stand, leaned the bike onto it, and pulled off his gloves, laying them onto the tank to hold them in place with his knee. He unsnapped the cuffs of his jacket at his wrists, unzipped it, and reached to his throat to unfasten the helmet. Lifting the visor, he pulled the helmet off, and sat it on the tank in front of him, before he ran his fingers through the mashed graying brown hair on his head. His hair responded only partially to the command, after being in the brain bucket since 7 this morning. He got off and headed for the doors. ----------------------- Emma groaned, kicking herself for forgetting a very predictable part of Sherri's day. She should have gone to the one across town, she realized. Not wanting any part of any sort of conversation they might have, Emma spun on her heel and in a quick about-face walked quickly back the way that she'd come. She wanted to make sure that she was well around the corner by the time that Sherri got through the doors. She looked back once to make certain, and as she turned to look forward again, the toe of her shoe caught the crack in the pavement, pitching her forward. Cale caught Emma just as her balance had passed the tip-over point. Emma looked forward just in time to see his open jacket and the T shirt that he wore below that. Cale caught her a little awkwardly, but was at least gratified that it was her cheekbone that hit his chest and not her pretty nose. He did his best to soften her landing against him. Emma gave let out a rather undignified grunt on impact, and looked up. "Excuse me, "she said. "It's ok, as long as you're alright, "Cale replied with a smile, "That's the most fun I've had all week. Are you ok?" She made no answer to that, but remembered why she'd been in a hurry to leave. Looking back, she saw Sherri walk out the front doors of the place and turn left to get to her car. He noticed her obvious relief. Emma turned to him, "Thanks, "she said uncomfortably, and went back inside. Cale watched her go, and sighed, before following her in to get his coffee. He remembered what he'd said. All week, he thought to himself sarcastically, that had been the first time that a woman had touched him in - well he couldn't even remember. He kicked himself for the stupid remark he'd made. He made sure that he wasn't immediately behind her in line so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. He looked out through the windows at nothing wondering again why he'd been put here. Just like all of the other times, he came to no answer that meant anything. Emma looked casually over her shoulder and noticed that he wasn't right behind her. She felt a bit of relief at that, since she'd almost expected him to try to chat her up. He was looking, at what? She followed his gaze and saw nothing that would interest anyone. She snapped her head around as he began to turn back. She placed her order and after the monetary exchange, was handed her coffee and stood at the counter awaiting her sandwich. Cale went through his own transaction, and stood behind her, but off to the side. When he was handed his bagel, she was gone. He walked outside slowly to his bike, placing his helmet on the seat, and then walked a bit further to the poured concrete footing of one of the lamp posts in the lot. He set his coffee down on the edge to pull up the tab, before walking to the other side of it to sit on the ground with his back to it. He tried not to think of the folks who came through here with dogs that needed to piss and what they'd use around here as an aiming point. Emma watched from her car, two spaces away as he sat and began to eat his food. She reminded herself that she wasn't interested in him but found herself watching anyway. When he was done eating, he set down his coffee and pulled out his phone. She saw that he replied to a text message, and then put the phone back in his jacket pocket before fishing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one, and after getting the pack put away, he leaned his head back against the concrete post and closed his eyes. Cale found that for some reason, he felt a little sorry for himself today. He was used to being alone, but wished that he was able to get off the island that he had always lived on. An island in a sea of people. It wasn't very big; he'd been here his whole life so he'd measured it exactly. The thin beach felt to him sometimes as though it were a thousand miles wide. He just was not able to cross it easily. He didn't often feel any attraction to anyone these days -- what was the point, after all? He could be friendly in a social situation, but there had been so many times that he'd stood reaching out across the beach of his island to find that no one ever reached back. Eventually he'd just given up. He realised that what was bothering him was the woman who had run into him. He'd known this whole thing would happen pretty much this way even before it did. He could have easily stayed where he was to let her fall on her pretty face, but that wasn't like him, and so he'd sidestepped to try to keep her from falling. He supposed that he ought to feel lucky that she'd thanked him or spoken to him at all. It was too bad, really, he thought. In the four and a half seconds that he'd had her attention, he'd found himself liking her. Fuck it, he thought, so this is what he'd come down to -- wanting to have at least a word with a nice-looking woman who'd landed in his arms randomly, and not even being able to manage that. He realised that, not counting the small number of women who were acquaintances of his, he could now have relationships that lasted under five seconds. He moved his mind from the path that it was on as he felt one of his eyes just begin a tear. The sun felt warm on his face. He heard a pair of bikes come in, but didn't bother to open his eyes. He took a pull from his smoke. Stupid habit, he thought, but then everybody needs at least one vice. He didn't drink very much -- maybe a dozen drinks of any kind in a year. He wondered about that. He'd have thought that somebody alone on an island who could get booze would have a drinking problem. He never went to bars -- that would require the kind of social ability that he lacked anyway -- again, what would be the point? He felt himself smile, and wondered at that too. He'd intended it to be a bitter smile because that was how he felt, but to his surprise, he just felt a normal smile on his face, and it even cheered him up a bit. He was usually pretty cheerful. But every once in a while he'd have a moment or two of dark contemplation, and then it would pass like a cloud across the sun. He ignored the tear and then slurped his coffee and smoked for a while, trying to decide where he felt like riding to on his day off. Emma watched him for lack of anything else of interest within her horizon. She saw no ring on his hand. She placed his age somewhere in his forties -- must be divorced, she thought. She'd seen a couple of bikers ride in and notice him on the way by, but he'd showed no sign of awareness of them. At first, she thought he'd fallen asleep or something, but then he'd taken a drag from his cigarette right after they'd gone by. She stared at the tear on his cheek. She grabbed her point-and shoot camera from her purse and grabbed a shot quickly before settling down to try to compose a better one. She just got it off before he moved again. A quick glance at the screen on the back told her that the second shot had been good. And then she'd seen him smile. She wondered what thought had brought that on. She found herself liking his smile, closed eyes and all. He'd been smiling at her when he'd caught her, but she'd been too flustered and worried about being seen by Sherri to really notice. A Man on an Island Ch. 01 She looked back to see him looking into his paper cup before putting the cigarette butt inside it and swirling it around to put it out, she guessed. Cale stood up and walked to the nearest of the garbage cans that the store provided to discard the cup along with the wrapper and bag from his bagel. Emma found herself checking out his ass in spite of herself. He turned to walk to his bike and noticed a person in the car a bit away from his bike peripherally. He didn't look at the person directly, he just noticed them. He zipped up his jacket, before picking up his helmet from the seat to sit down. Emma had been taking shot after shot of him during this time. She was an amateur photographer of sorts. She'd wanted to do it professionally, but life had gotten in the way somehow. She wasn't certain what she liked about these shots, but there was a quality that she could see there. She just wasn't sure yet what it was. She'd need to be in a darker place to figure it out since there was too much light here to really look at the camera's display. Emma would have preferred having her good camera along, but this was why she had the little one, for those grab shots that cropped up in life. She watched him set the helmet down on the tank before fiddling with some switches or something. His hands went to the handlebars and then the bike started and he began to pull on the helmet. After getting it done up, he quickly put on his gloves and lifted the bike to retract the stand. Emma suddenly realised that she might eventually edit and post the shots that she'd gotten on one of the art sites that she had her stuff on. She knew that she couldn't do it without his permission and a release -- and he was about to leave. He began to paddle the bike out of the space. She called out to him, but there was no response. The bike wasn't loud, but she wondered if his mind was elsewhere, and so she leaned on her car horn. Cale's head snapped around. There hadn't been anyone nearby a few seconds ago, but you never could tell. He noticed the direction of the sound was not behind him, and then noticed that the woman he had caught earlier was there and waving to him. He put the bike into gear and pulled back into the spot that he'd just vacated. What could she want? He dropped the stand and shut off the engine to look at her. He found that he was missing about every third word, so he held up his hand and then unfastened his helmet to pull it off. "Sorry, "he said, "I'm not getting everything you're saying. Give me a second here." She began again, "Excuse me, I wanted to thank you for not letting me fall, but I also wanted to talk to you about something. I noticed you sitting there, and I took a few pictures of you. I hope it's alright with you, and I was wondering if you'd consider letting me use these on the web." Cale was confused, "Why did you take my picture?" Emma shrugged, "You looked kind of introspective with the sun on your face, and I liked it, so I grabbed my camera. What was the tear for?" He looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed, "You saw that?" He looked back to her with a shrug, "It was for me, I guess. I was feeling a bit down for a minute there, but the sun felt so good, and I kind of used that to stop any more from coming. You can use the shots if you want, I guess, "he said, "but will I be able to see them?" She smiled, "Sure, but I may edit them, and I'd need you to sign a release to let me do it. What do you say?" Cale found her smile to be a bit infectious, and he held out his hand, "My name's Cale. What's yours?" She grabbed his hand, "I'm Emma." "Well then, Emma, if I understand the way this goes, you get to do whatever you want with my images after I sign. So, if it's ok with you, I have only two small conditions -- if you don't mind, may I see them on your camera? I'm only interested in what you saw that would make you grab your camera. I'd ask for your word that you don't make me look too much like a fool." "What's the other condition?" she asked. "That was it, "he said, "Pick the best unedited one and let me see it for a second, and don't make me look any dumber than I already do." She began to scan through what she'd taken, "You don't look dumb, and anyway, I'd never do that. Here, I think this one's the best without editing," she held up the camera to him. He looked for a second, "Fine, where do I sign?" She found a release in the glove box and handed it to him with a pen, "and please put your email address on the back -- I'll send you copies if you'd like." "Sure, "he said with a smile, "I think I'd like that." "Thanks Cale, "she said, as she took the signed release from him, "I'd better get a move on. I still need to do some work at home before I head off to work. Where are you off to from here? I'm asking to see if it matches my impression." Cale found himself laughing, "Nowhere special. I'm sorry if your impression is of the lone drifter type. It's nothing that romantic, I'm afraid. I'm only out riding because I love to ride. I was thinking of heading to Wallwood, but by a wandering route that I like, before heading straight home from there to fix myself dinner. There's something out that way that I want a picture of myself." Emma was curious, "What is it?" He shook his head, "It's just a mailbox, "he said, "One particular mailbox, and I don't suppose that it's looking introspective today, but I want the shot anyway. It just looks funny to me. I try to always carry my beat up little camera in my saddlebag." Emma put her car in gear, "Ok, have fun then. I'll email you when I get the shots edited. It might be a few days, though." "That's fine, Emma. It was nice meeting you, "he said, suppressing the urge to talk more. "Nice meeting you, too, "she said, and then she was gone. Cale waited for her to drive off before going back inside for another coffee. He suddenly just felt like having another. Leaning against the seat of his bike, he wondered why he'd agreed to sign the release. It wasn't as if he expected to see the shots, he decided. He doubted that he'd ever get the copies that she'd promised. He suddenly found that he really didn't want to ride anywhere anymore, for some reason. He beat himself up for that thought. He'd wanted the mailbox shot all winter, and now it was fairly nice, and what the hell, he thought, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He finished the coffee and got on the road. Emma had no trouble getting the new lock on her door, and then settled in to begin the cleanup of the mess that her ex-girlfriend had left for her. She purposely didn't load the pictures from her camera onto her computer, wanting instead to save the job for when she got home from work. ---------------------- When she got home a little before one o'clock, Emma chose a frozen entree from her freezer and threw it into her microwave. She hadn't gotten a real chance to eat anything at work. Sometimes things just worked out that way. While the microwave was running, she turned on her PC and got out her camera. She just had time to get to her 'Pix' folder and create a new subfolder that she just named 'Cale' before the microwave beeped that it was done. As she ate, she checked her email, and found nothing of interest other than one from Sherri. She didn't open it, but that made her dig for her cell phone. There were three voicemails and five text messages. She only listened to the first voicemail, and ditched it along with the rest. She wasn't interested in the girl's vitriol, accusations, sadness, apologies, or pleading -- in that order. That was the run of the text messages, according to their timestamps. It seemed that Sherri was having second thoughts after only a day. Emma shook her head. No, she thought, this time I'm the one who's had enough. This would mark the fifth blow-up that they'd had. Emma only knew that she didn't want to go through any more of them. She knew that she'd likely regret the thought, but right now, she really didn't want anybody. She found the cable for her camera and wondered what Cale was doing. She smiled at the thought. He probably led a normal life, and that would mean that he was asleep right now. She pulled the shots from the camera into the folder, and began to look through them. After wishing that she'd had her Canon along, as she always did, she smiled. He was good looking, she'd give him that. She almost wished that she was into men though there was no danger of that. So cutie, she thought as she began to edit the first one, you're safe from me, at least. The two shots that showed his tear held her somehow. What was it that had made him do that, she wondered. The one that she'd composed was better, she decided, and she only had to do a little bit of cropping to it. She found that she liked almost every shot that she'd taken of him for one reason or another, but that one -- it really pulled the viewer, she decided. You had to wonder about it. Was he missing a loved one? Had there maybe been a breakup? There was no grimace of physical pain, so that was right out. No, she decided, this was a look at some rare emotion on a man's face. She cursed the little camera. You could just barely make out the track of the tear. The tear was enough, she thought, but given her druthers, she'd have much preferred to have gotten the track of it as well. She looked at the first shot, the one that she'd grabbed. You couldn't even really see the tear, but you knew it was there, instantly. There was a tiny highlight -- a small sparkle from the sun's light that made you know it was a tear. She did her best to deal with the tiny amount of camera shake in the shot, but liked it almost as much for the spontaneity of it. Emma moved on through the rest. It was just a shame about the angle of the sun as it put him in a bit too much shade while he'd walked back to his bike. But she found herself looking for the elusive quality that she'd noticed. She opened every shot that it showed in, and sized them so that she could look from one to the other. There was a kind of wistful thing about them, as though he was wishing for something -- or would have wished for something, given the opportunity to make a wish. But it was not immediately apparent, she realised. You had to look. The shots stood on their own, regardless, she realised. Emma sat back and thought. That "something" had not been there on his face when they'd spoken, she was certain of it. No, it was only there before she'd gotten his attention. It was only there when he'd thought that no one was looking at him. She wasn't sure of it, she realised, as she began to edit them, but it could have been an expression of lonely despair. She forced herself through the editing, keeping the thought for later. When she was done, she looked again. Was it just loneliness? Or was it only despair? She couldn't answer these questions, but when she combined them, it seemed to be a pretty solid feeling. She looked at him, wondering. "Why would you feel that way?" she asked the images on her monitor, intrigued. At last, she went to bed. When she got up the next morning, she looked at the images again over her coffee. She wanted to make certain that she could still get that feeling from them in the light of day. And she found that, after a night's sleep, it was even more apparent. She smiled at this, these pictures were so subtly evocative, she thought. She spent a little while posting them to the sites that she used, and found herself eagerly awaiting the comments that she hoped to receive on them. -------------------- Two days later, Cale got in late from a long day in some cold rain, and after a long, hot shower decided that he felt better, and wondered what to do with himself for the evening. He looked from his television, to his guitar, and then to his PC. He didn't watch much TV, and didn't feel like a movie. The cold day had sapped any desire that he might have had to play anything, and he doubted that his fingers would cooperate much anyway tonight. He turned on the computer, and spent some time researching new exhaust pipes for his bike. There wasn't anything wrong with what it had come with, but he'd always liked the look of drag pipes. One manufacturer made a set that he really liked, but he wondered about the sound level. He thought his bike was fine the way it was for sound, and he wasn't big on making kids in strollers cry by being obnoxious. But a nice set of drag pipes would change the look a bit, and save more than a few pounds. He just needed to know if they were legal. As he began to think about shutting down for the night, he thought about his email. He hadn't checked it in over a week. He rarely got anything that wasn't about Viagra, buying a university degree, or the odd ridiculous letter from some Russian site sending him some trash disguised as a young woman who wanted to meet him. But he knew that he'd better open it just to clear out the garbage. As he clicked it open, he lit a cigarette and watched in fascination as well over a hundred garbage emails poured in. There was a long pause as one particular one downloaded. He gave his junk mail folder a quick look through just in case, and then deleted them all. He was about to close the program when he noticed three emails in his regular inbox. He supposed they were just more junk that his spam filter hadn't been taught to grab yet, and almost ignored them, but opened the folder at the last minute. They were all from Emma. He'd pretty much forgotten about what she'd said, figuring that it was just talk. He opened the one with the oldest date stamp. She'd sent the photos after all, and said that she was very pleased with them, and hoped that he would be as well. He looked them over. He had to admit that the girl had talent; they were probably the best photos that anyone had ever taken of him in his life -- though he admitted that it wasn't saying much since it never happened often anyway, other than having the one on his driver's license renewed, he smirked. But these were very good. He was a little sad to see that she'd caught his tear, but those were the ones that she'd liked the best, she'd said, so he hoped they had served whatever purpose she'd had in mind when she'd taken them. He said as much in his reply to her before opening the second message. Emma had sent these two today, the last one only minutes before, he noted. She provided the URLs to the sites that she'd posted the photos to, and mentioned that she'd gotten many favourable comments on them from others, particularly the ones with his tear. She went on to wonder if he might consider modelling for a shoot for her. Cale almost fell out of his chair. Modelling? What the hell for? He walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. The face in the mirror was the same one that he'd seen all of his life. He turned to the side as much as the view would allow and grimaced, nobody had expressed much of an interest in it before, so what had changed? He was a little perplexed, but shrugged. The third message was pretty much just 'Earth to Cale -- are you there?' He smiled, what was the big deal? He'd gone a month before opening his email to find it filled with endless crap. He'd only gone a week this time. He thought about her, and remembered that he'd been very attracted to her, but that proved nothing as he was certain there wasn't interest from her in anything beyond the pictures. He looked beyond that, and figured that if he agreed to the shoot, she'd get more of whatever she wanted, and since his ego didn't much need the photos; there wasn't much in it for him. His reply expressed some doubt about doing a shoot for her. He couldn't see what she was looking to capture, he said. He thanked her for the copies that she'd sent, and then hit the 'Send' button. ------------------- Emma was working on some of her old shots when she heard the new mail chime. She usually ignored them until she was ready to read, but there had already been one a few minutes ago, so she looked. She read Cale's responses and frowned. She didn't do that many model shoots, and normally it wouldn't have mattered much to her, other than the lost opportunity to express herself through the art of it. But she minded now. Everyone who had seen her shots loved them, even the one co-worker that she'd shown them to -- she'd even said that she was sure that she'd seen him around someplace, and that Emma had really gotten something in those shots. She fired off a reply, and sat back for a minute, thinking on it before she sent it off. Cale stood up and walked to the back of the house, and out onto the deck. He was second-guessing himself a little now. He had a smoke out in the rain thinking that it was too bad that life was the way that it was. When he was back in high school, you could say most anything to another kid. Once everybody got out into the world, there were encumbering frameworks around everyone of work, marriage, kids, careers and all of that. Each framework was another layer of insulation that separated people, and they just kept piling up. He supposed that it was what most people wanted, being in their relationships and all. But if you were one of the unmatched ones, it was just like you lived in a world slightly apart from everyone else. You could see them, but that was about it. He knew that if he could have a wish, he'd like the chance to get to know Emma better, but he also knew that she more than likely had her own frameworks to live inside of. He hadn't thought to look for a ring, not that it would have made any difference. He ground out the smoke and went inside to shut the PC down and go to bed. He was startled to see Emma's reply there. She stated that as a photographer it was more her function to see what she wanted to capture, as he'd put it, than the subject's function, and she saw something that she wanted to explore. She chided him very gently about being shy, and suggested that he try to get past that because she saw that he looked interesting through a viewfinder. She asked him to please reconsider, and then repeated the 'please' in capitals with a few question marks after it. Cale shook his head in amazement. He actually laughed out loud, and sent a quick note saying that he'd think about it, since she'd said 'please', but that he had to get to bed. He suggested that they meet to discuss it at the coffee shop, since it was a neutral place, and that he was prepared to listen to her ideas on the subject. He added his cell number, and suggested that she text him since he always looked at it at least once a day. He asked her for a day and time that was good for her, but warned that at work he was often not able to check for messages for up to two hours at a time. He wished her a good night, and then sent it. But he didn't go to bed just yet. Cale opened his browser and went to a couple of the sites that she'd posted to. He found her photos of him and the other things that she'd done, and was impressed. What intrigued him were the comments that she'd gotten on his pictures. He read the captions under the shots, in particular one of the ones that showed his tear -- 'A candid shot of a nice guy here. I don't know what the tear was about, and he didn't say much about it in explanation. I'm really glad I caught this though.' Several of the comments raved over the shot, and more than one said that they felt that they just had to know what it was about, that the shot made them want to ask the subject directly. Emma's replies to those were that she felt the same way, but since he hadn't offered more of an answer, she wasn't going to pry. Cale smiled; apparently he was an enigma now. He shut the PC down and went to bed. -------------------- Emma grinned. She sensed that he wasn't looking to feed his ego, but wasn't going so far in the opposite direction as to close the door. She shut down her computer and began to get ready to crash for the night, but found herself lying awake for some time, trying to think of what she wanted to get from the shoot if he agreed to it. A Man on an Island Ch. 01 ---------------------------- Emma sat in the coffee shop looking out the window at the lot. It had taken a day of text negotiations to get this meeting scheduled. She had hoped that the weather would have seen fit to cooperate, but it had started to rain late in the afternoon. She expected to see Cale arrive in a car. No, she thought, he'd come in a pickup truck, she'd bet. She had no idea why it had come to her, but that was her guess. She sat up as she noticed a pair of headlights on an approaching motorcycle. She remembered that his had two headlights. As the bike turned in, she recognised it as his. She reached into her bag and pulled out her good camera, quickly going through the changes in its settings that would allow her to shoot through the glass windows without the autofocus. She began shooting as soon as he came to a stop, and watched as he got off. He was soaked in some places, and not in others. She wondered why. He stood and pulled off his helmet, and Emma smiled as he ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair before walking to the shop. The rain didn't seem to make him walk much faster. She looked intently as she tripped the shutter time and again for the look that had appeared in her other shots, and was rewarded that it had appeared again. What the heck was haunting him? He walked in and the look disappeared as he recognised her. He approached with a rueful smile to set his helmet on one of the vacant seats. For an instant, Emma could see what he must have looked like as a boy when he offered only "Hi, sorry I'm a bit late." "That's ok, "she smiled, "You're pretty hardcore to ride today. I thought you'd bring your truck." He looked at her curiously, "They were only calling for overcast today, and I couldn't get away with enough time to get home first. I have raingear in my saddlebags, but I thought I was already going to be late. Besides, by the time I could have pulled over, I'd have been soaked anyway before I could get it on. How did you know I have a truck?" Emma laughed, "I didn't. I was just thinking that you'd drive in, and then I thought that your other vehicle was probably a truck." Cale shrugged, "I didn't know I was that transparent. I do have a car, but for any kind of heavy weather, I much prefer my pickup. Have you eaten at all? I think I need a hot bowl of soup right now." "No, "she said, "and I'm buying yours. I'm the one who's trying to ply you, and if hot soup is what it takes..." He looked ready to protest, but Emma was insistent, "Look Cale, if it wasn't for my trying to wheedle you into the idea of a shoot, you'd have gone straight home to begin to dry off and get warm. As it is, you're here all wet to see me. I think I owe you for that." After she'd bought their food, they returned to the table. "I still think I was right about you being a hardcore rider, "she said, "Yours is the only bike in the lot. I'm not a bike person, but even I know that most of the spit-shined bikes never feel a drop of rain if their owners can help it." He shrugged, "I ride because I love to ride, and the weather gods don't always see it my way. It needed a wash anyway, and now I have an excuse to clean it. I wouldn't have taken it if it was raining this morning, but if I left it home every time that it looked like it might rain, what would be the point?" He dug into the soup, and closed his eyes. Emma sadly watched a great shot go by. "I needed this, "Cale said. She chuckled, "You know, this is getting dumb. I was taking shots of you through the window all the way in. You'll have to sign another release now." He looked at her cautiously, "That's fine, Emma. But would you please tell me what you see that you want to photograph? I mean -- if you can express it. Nobody's ever wanted to take pictures of me before, and I suppose that I ought to feel flattered but ..." he exhaled, "I'm hardly model material, and even if I was, I'm way too old for it." Emma held up her hand as she began to recall some of what she'd just gotten on her camera. "Do I look like I just wandered in off my daddy's farm to you?" She picked one that she really liked, "Here, take a look, and try to imagine that it's not you. I'm not even into bikes, at least I don't think I am, but this says a lot about riding and this particular rider to me." He looked at it dubiously, "You know, you've got a lot of talent. If I was a really rich businessman, or some kind of personality, I'd insist on you as my photographer. I'm not big on how I look, but as you say, if it wasn't me, this would be magazine grade. What do you want to do in your shoot?" She sat back, "There's two things I'm after here. I want to do a shoot outside somehow, and I haven't put all my thoughts together yet, but it would just be you being you, pretty much. If I had my druthers, I'd want to do a studio shoot too, but that would take even more planning on my part." Emma sat forward to look at Cale intently, "And the other thing is much more elusive, I've just figured out. I was only certain of it as you walked in, Cale. You have this look to you, and the damndest thing is that it's not constant. You're interesting enough in my viewfinder, but there's this thing about you that makes you even more so. I really hope you can harness it, because I'd really like to see it again." "What is it?" he asked, perplexed. She set her camera on autofocus and took his picture. "Here, "she said, "look at this. Forget about the crappy composition and everything else. Just look at your expression." He saw it and nodded, "So?" She recalled the shot from outside, "Now again, look only at your expression. Do you see it?" He studied the shot, "Yeah, it's different." Emma smiled, "What were you thinking just then? What were you thinking the other day when the tear came?" Cale grimaced, "I'm not sure that I want to tell you. I'm normally a pretty bright person. All it takes to make me smile in the morning is to realise that I haven't woken up dead, though I have a severe face -- and I can't help that. The other day, I was just feeling alone -- totally alone, and it made me sad for a minute. I don't often let it get to me, but it started to get through that day. When I walked in just now, I was hoping something. I guess my face just shows it the same way." He shrugged. Emma sensed that it wouldn't be a good thing to pry, so she left it for the moment. "Will you do the shoot? I promise that I won't make you look dumb, Cale. The results speak to my skill as well as your appearance. I'd want to do my best." He smiled, "I'm assuming that there's no pay for this." Emma nodded. "Well, it's not like I'd be doing anything terribly important for the time it would take, though it would probably take most if not all of one of my days off. So there are a couple of things that I'd be interested in, "he said brightly. Emma sighed with an overly exasperated expression, "Honestly, you models. Conditions, it's always conditions with you." She grinned, "Ok, what is it you want?" "Two things again, "he smiled hopefully, "One thing that bothers me about this a little is that I find that I like you so far. I'm afraid that once you have the shots of me that you want, I'd probably never see you again. I think I'd like a tiny bit more than that relationship. I'm not asking for anything here other than for you to consider the possibility of spending a day with me just riding around on my bike. Please notice that I'm only asking you to consider it -- not agree to it, so I'd say that this condition comes off as pretty inexpensive for you. You can always say that you've considered it, and that you decline." Emma looked confused, "Let's leave that one aside for now. What's the other condition?" He grinned at her, "I love your hair, Emma. May I please rub it?" She sat stunned, before laughing, "That's it? That's the second condition?" He nodded, and she said with a laugh, "Ok, but I get to rub yours right after." Cale agreed, and they laughed as they touched each other's short hair momentarily. "Why do you like my hair?" she asked. "I just do, "Cale replied, "It looks so good on you. It's a hard enough look to get right on a man, but it takes more for a woman to be able to pull it off in my book because on a man, you just accept it. I've seen women attempt the look sometimes, but even if they were going for severity, they pretty much blow it. On you? It's just right." "Maybe they were going for the look as an indicator, "Emma speculated hopefully. Cale shook his head, "Undoubtedly some do, and all I'm saying is that for those women, there must be other looks that will say what it is that they want to say. For this particular look, Emma, there just aren't that many who can pull it off." She thought about his other condition, "How do you know I'm not one of the ones that use it as an indicator?" She thought she knew what he might be hoping for with his condition, "I might just be, you know. You don't know me very well." Cale shrugged, "Emma, I try to be aware of what's going on around me, but I'd be the first to admit that there are subtle signs that I miss. Unless I miss my guess, what those women are trying to signal isn't aimed at me anyway." He looked at her, "And if you're one of those women well, don't think it gets you out of a day of riding with me." "Why wouldn't it, Cale?" Emma was intrigued now. Unless Cale was as thick as a post... He looked down at the almost empty soup bowl for a moment, before looking back at her, "Because Emma, "he struggled for a moment, "I think I get that you're trying to tell me that you're not interested in me, and for the moment, I can't tell if you're trying to warn me that you prefer women or that you're pretending to because you aren't attracted to me. In either case, it doesn't make much difference. What matters is that I like you. To be blunt about it, I think that I'd very much like to have your friendship if I could. I don't have many friends. You could use the day to scout locations for the shoot. I'm just hoping to make a friend out of this." Emma was beginning to see a possible clue for that look of his. She spoke quietly, "So let's say that, for the sake of argument, I was a real, honest-to- goodness, card-carrying lesbian. You're telling me that you want to be my straight friend, and that you still want me to go riding with you in exchange for the photo shoot?" Cale's face took on the expression of a boy again as he tried to sound like a ten year old from the sixties, "Gosh, you mean you guys get to carry cards and everything?" Emma laughed, "Hey, I'm not admitting a thing here. I was speaking hypothetically. But you really want to be my friend?" His face showed intense contemplation before suddenly clearing, "Sure, if we can be. It doesn't matter whether you're straight or not. Why does that preclude even the possibility of friendship? That's why I want to go riding with you, to see if we can be friends and if you'd like it. And I'd want copies of the pictures on a CD or something. And I'm frankly not nuts about you taking shots of me if I have to take my clothes off." Emma smiled wickedly, "We'll see about that later. I might just be trying to fake you out about being queer. For all you know, I might just be one of those low-budget pornographers. I'd take your pictures and sell 'em to all of those horny housewives ... And why wouldn't you want to do nude shots?" "Because, not matter what you see, or think that you see in my face, my body has nothing to interest anybody, and I sure wouldn't want to see it on those sites that you posted to." He held out his hand, "Do we have a deal?" She grabbed his hand. ------------------------------ Emma spent a few days thinking about locations. She already had one in mind, with maybe a second possibility. She called Cale, and they discussed using the ride that he'd wanted with her to scout locations, since he thought he might know of a couple of others, but said that she obviously had to see if they'd do. They agreed on the day, and Emma said that since the morning light was the most important to her, she'd wanted to be on the road before daybreak. She was surprised to see him arrive at the coffee shop in his truck. "What's with the pickup, Cale?" she asked, "I thought you wanted to do this on your bike." "I did, Emma. But I don't know if you've ever been on a bike before, and pre-dawn isn't the best for a first impression. Besides, I'm good with the chill temperatures, but you don't have any clothes for it, and there's one place that I couldn't get my bike into. My truck will get us there no sweat."She was impressed that he cared that much. He bought them a bite to eat, and they were off. Around mid-day, Cale pulled into a small eatery in a tiny town, and Emma said that she had to think on which of the places that they'd seen were the one or ones that she'd want to use. Cale pointed out that there was one more possibility, and she agreed to see it. She was a little concerned, since she knew that it had to be out of the way, but at the same time, she felt comfortable enough with him to trust him this much. She wasn't getting any alarm bells about him in her head, and she always trusted her instincts - and in spite of herself, she'd been having a great time with him. Cale pulled into the entrance to a field and stopped. "Where are we?" Emma asked. He leaned over, and took her map, and then grabbing her pencil, he placed a small dot. "Right about here, see?" He pointed to his GPS, and Emma could see that it matched with the map. "I just have to open and close the gate. There are horses and cattle on this land. I kind of know the owner because I did some work for her a while back, and I called to ask for her permission for this." "Who is she?" asked Emma. He smiled, "Her name is Sylvia McDonnell. This is her family's land, and she's building up a horse farm with her husband for when he retires." He got out to open the gate, and then pulled the truck ahead before getting out and closing it again after them. As he rolled forward, he reached down and pulled on a lever sticking out of the floor. He caught her look and explained, "This old girl predates the spiffy all-wheel-drive nonsense. I'm just glad I don't have to climb out to play with the hubs to lock them like back in the old days. I just pull this, and we're off." They began to grind up a long incline. "Don't slurp your coffee now, Emma. The ground's too rough for that, and you'd only end up wearing it." They motored slowly along. "So what is this place?" she asked. "Well, if we knew each other better, I'd tell you to wait and see. But since you're looking as nervous now as a cat near a rocking chair, we're going to the original homestead, or what's left of it. I think there was some thought put to having their own mill; since I saw some indication of that when I stumbled across it. I really have to ask Sylvia. It's just over this rise." Emma felt a little embarrassed, "Does it show that much? I'm sorry, Cale." He smiled, "Don't worry about it, I understand." They ground over the hill, and he stopped on the other slope. "What do you think?" They were above a small, flat plain. There was the overgrown homestead, and she agreed that there appeared to be the remains of a mill there. "Cale, it's perfect! Can we drive down there?" "Sure, "he said, "grab on to that handhold over the door there. It gets a bit rough on the way down." They wandered around for twenty minutes or so before Cale suggested that they head back out. Back in the truck, Emma was in love with the place, "I think that place is a whole shoot by itself." "Well, "Cale said noncommittally, "You ought to decide what you want to do, Emma. I only agreed to one shoot." She looked at him, "Oh, come on, Cale. I'd want to do one whole shoot with you right there. Come on, more than one, please?" He sighed, "There you go with that word again. That's how I got myself into agreeing to one shoot. Tell you what, let's do one, and then you tell me if you want to do any more, ok?" "Alright, "she laughed, "But I warn you now, for a shoot with you here, I'm gonna want to see at least a little skin. Do you have an axe or something like that? I want to get some farmboy-at-work shots." Cale laughed and shook his head, "Emma, I'm not some twenty year-old. I'm an old fart. I can do what you want, but I can't see how it would be attractive in the shots." Her face held a smug look, "That's my job. The idea that I have in my head requires a good-looking man, not some gym-boy cutie who's never lifted anything heavier than a latte outside of a gym." "Um, you said 'good-looking'." "Cale, I'll hit you pretty soon," she smirked, "Believe me, you'll do." Somewhere during the drive back, Emma decided that Cale was trustworthy, and moved him into that category in her mind. She'd already decided that they could be friends, since she'd found herself liking him a lot. As they pulled into the coffee shop lot, she asked him to follow her to her place. He snorted with a smile, "I'd follow you anyplace, Emma, but ..." "Well are you doing anything today? I thought that you'd set the whole day aside for this." She said pointedly. "No, "he replied, "I' m wide open. What do you have in mind?" "Three things, "she said airily, "One -- I'd like to get a few test shots of you to check my lighting. It won't take long. And two - I'm going to make us dinner. Three -- I just wanna hang out with my new friend some more." Cale smiled, "Then lead on, and don't drive too fast. This old thing won't corner like your car." As he followed her home, Cale wondered a little. Emma must trust him at least a little bit to want to do this, he thought. He was happy for that, he decided. He just worried about what she wanted of him in the shoot. He decided to talk to her about it. "Don't worry about it, "she said, "I know you have no idea how to be a model, so I'm not expecting you to find poses for yourself and freeze every two seconds so I can get the shot. I'll pose you. You just have to remember not to put anything more into the pose than I ask for." She turned on her lights in front of her background, "Now take off your shirt, please." He stared at her as though she'd just caught him trying to steal her purse. She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Cale, "she said, "You look like you're the young, innocent girl who's starving, and is reluctantly doing a porn shoot with the big bad pornographer so that she'll have money to eat. These are just test shots, and I'm not going to make you look stupid." He looked down and shook his head. Emma thought that she had lost him right there, but he began to unbutton his shirt. She heaved a quiet sigh of relief. As he dropped his shirt, she stared at him, "Would you please tell me why in heaven's name, you'd feel nervous about this." He sighed in a little exasperation, "Because I'm not a model, Emma, I don't have the rippling muscles that those guys have. I'm just a man, who, um -- who's feeling pretty foolish right about now." "Well stop it, "Emma told him, "I'm not looking for that, as I told you. What you have is perfect, believe me." She got busy behind the camera, "Cale, what I want is a real man for this, somebody that has a few miles on his frame, and got his build from working -- not by playing at a gym. Any woman with a brain knows there's a difference. Turn to your left more." She took shot after shot. "I'll try to explain it better over dinner, ok? Just trust me; you're exactly right for the homestead." She raised one of her spots high over him and guided him through a few poses, but she was aware that he was agreeing to this because he sought her friendship, so she was always mindful not to ask too much of him. She'd have loved to see his legs and butt, but there was no way that she'd ask it of him, at least not yet. She thought he was a pretty special guy to even do this much, since he wasn't being driven to feed an ego. "You don't have a gut, but could you pull back on that, and then push down into your stomach?" A Man on an Island Ch. 01 He thought he knew what she had in mind and did his best. Emma looked up from the viewfinder, "Jesus ..." She ducked back to grab the shot. Emma tried to imitate his earlier tone. "I don't have rippling muscles", she said rolling her eyes, "You need to book an eye exam. What the hell do you call that, Cale?" She chuckled, "Honestly..." "Ok, now Cale," she looked around for something a bit heavy and grabbed her gear bag to bring it to him, "pick that up with one hand and hold it for a second. "Oh yeah, perfect." They decided on pizza for dinner instead, after Cale signed another release for her. "Who are they?" Emma asked. He looked at her quizzically as he buttoned up his shirt. "The girl on your arm, and the one on your chest, "she said, "They must have some significance to be important enough to rate being there." Cale shrugged, "The one on my arm is just artwork that I liked and asked my guy to do. The one on my chest is the same, nobody that exists in real life, but that one has some significance to me, though I don't know if you'd understand it." Emma reached over and undid the buttons again. He hadn't tucked the shirt back in, so when she had the buttons undone, she opened the shirt wide to look. There was a nude woman with her back to the viewer, and there were bloody grooves from her fingernails in several places around her, as though she had torn into his chest and she was tearing new ones with a half-look over her shoulder. "I'm not sure, "she said. "The wounds are over my heart, "he said, "Any husband and father would understand." Emma looked up at his face, "And you are both, I assume." "No and yes, "he said, "in that order. I was married once a long time ago. She got tired of me pretty quick, but not quick enough, I guess. We had a daughter." Emma opened his shirt again, "I get it now. That's a pretty powerful indictment." Cale shook his head, "It's not supposed to be an indictment. It's more of an acknowledgement of the role. I don't really care if my ex-wife is dead or alive anymore. The pain of that wore out a long time ago. After making a lot of legal noise, I was allowed strict visitation rights to my girl. Of course, her mother did her best to poison the relationship, but I always tried as hard as I could, and I think Samantha knows it somewhere inside her. I always made time go to any school events that I could find out about, and made time for her on the rare occasions when I'd get a chance to talk to her. Now that she's all grown up, I don't have to pay anymore, but she still texts me to give me tiny glimpses of her life -- and she's usually also asking for money at the same time. I'm struggling with it. I'm pretty sure that the first time that I say 'no', will be the end of that relationship, too." He pointed to his chest, "So these wounds are about all I have." Emma looked at him. His haunted look was there on his face again. Now that she had some insight, she felt some of his sadness as well, "You should ask to meet her alone. You know, maybe try to clarify the relationship, clear the air -- find out where you stand. Then you'd know." He shook his head, "I've thought about it often, Emma. I'd love to do that, but I don't dare." He looked down for a moment, and it was too much for her. She stood up and stepped over to him, before hugging his head to her chest. "If there's anything I can do to help with it Cale, I'd want to know about it, ok?" He nodded just as the doorbell rang. As they ate, Emma tried to clarify what she wanted from the homestead shoot, as she'd come to call it, "Ok, imagine that you've just gotten the property that the old place is on, and you've decided to fix it up to live in. You'd be doing a ton of physical work around the place, right?" He nodded, and she went on, "So, let's also assume that you had this woman who loves you, and she's looking out the window, or she's on her way out to hand you a drink. I want to get shots of the things that she'd see -- her gorgeous man working. I'd want to reach female viewers who could picture it automatically as though each of them was that woman, and she'd say "Yeah. And he's mine." The shots will stand on their own as I see them, but for those viewers, I'm aiming at that look -- that significance." Cale smiled, "I think you're aiming at a pretty small audience, but I get it." "You'd be surprised, Cale." He watched as she edited a few of the ones that they'd just done, and she posted them to her gallery on only one site. Within minutes, she had very favourable comments, and Emma turned to him with a grin, "And it's been only ten minutes." He was amazed. She smiled at him, "It doesn't matter what, a woman's heart is still a woman's heart. I don't think that there are that many who wouldn't get the romantic idea. The romance of it should still get across." Over the next few days, they planned the shoot and what to bring. -------------------- A week later, they were at the old homestead as the sun rose to light the little plain. Cale had a few tools and implements in the truck, and he looked at the tall grass. "I should have thought of it, Emma. This grass has to go. It'll get in the way." He found an old scythe, and took it to his truck. He reached in, and came out with a file. Emma grabbed some shots of him sharpening the ancient blade. "I just hope the handle stands up to this, "he said. In twenty minutes, he was sweating. He took off his shirt as he continued to clear the tall grass. "All right! "Emma crowed. Cale almost fell over laughing, but he was game and kept at it. Emma went nuts with her camera, asking him to hold a pose now and then, and sometimes just shooting. He stopped for a smoke, and she still went on shooting. She stopped, and ran to the stream, returning with her travel mug full of water to wet him carefully. He winced at the coldness of it, but he stood it with a rueful smile. Ten minutes later, he said that he had to pee, and Emma watched as he walked off a little ways. "Stop!" she shouted, as she ran to him. "What do you mean, 'stop'?" he asked. When she reached him, she reached around to undo the button on his jeans, "Just hold still, and hold your pee, "she said as she tugged his pants down a tiny bit lower on his hips before stepping back away from him. "Ok," she said, "Go for it." He was incredulous. "Go for what?" he asked, "I don't really want pictures of me relieving my bladder on any website, Emma." "I'm not going to do that," Emma replied, "I just want it to be clear that the guy's taking a minute here for this. The woman would know anyway, and it wouldn't bother her. Just pee, Cale, before you break something." Cale rolled his eyes, but by then he was past feeling shy since he now really had to go. Emma grabbed as many shots as she could. Cale just managed to keep his expression neutral as she stepped to where she could see his front. "Do your pants up really slowly, "Emma said, "I need to get shots from both sides of you here." She ran back and forth as he complied. When she was done, he turned to her. "What the hell was that, Emma? You must have taken thirty shots of me having a piss." She shrugged, "Wouldn't your woman see you do that if she were here? I thought real men had to pee every once in a while." He was exasperated, but had no reply. As she worked, Emma had new ideas for shots constantly. She got shots of him hammering, using a pickaxe, some with an adze while standing on an old beam as if he were squaring it -- everything that she could think of. Suddenly she stopped. Cale turned to her, "What's wrong?" "I just had some really great ideas, but I'd need another model, a woman. I had some thoughts about her coming to you to get you to stop for a while." He cocked his head, "How do you mean?" She smiled shyly, "Well, if I was that mystery woman, watching her man work, I know that I'd get a few slightly naughty ideas. Since this place is a bit remote, I think she'd maybe want a little loving from you. I wasn't thinking of porn, necessarily, but I'd like to give the impression that she'd talked you into stopping for a little while for a bit of fun out here." She looked down at herself, "Crap, I should have brought a dress along. I could get a couple of you lying down, just partly in the frame, with my own legs showing lying next to you." Cale stared at Emma as she undid her own jeans and began to pull them off, "Emma, this grass that I've cut down isn't just grass. There were a few pretty stiff stalks here. If you want us to lie down, it might get uncomfortable pretty quickly." "That's ok, Cale, "she replied, "I've only got you and this place for today, and there's no time for anything else. The more I think of those shots, the more I want them. Are you ok with this?" He stood looking at her, naked from the waist down, "How could I not be? You're beautiful. It's gonna be a bit of uncomfortable for me, but ..." She grinned at him, "It's all in the name of art, Cale." She giggled as he pulled off his pants. "I keep trying to tell myself that," he muttered. She found a spot to lie down, and as he got next to her, she urged him right against her, "Pretend that we're married or whatever, and we're still so much in love with each other. You know we'd be right up against each other, it wouldn't be a thought to us then." "Emma, "he said, "it's all well and good that this is a simulation for you so that you can get your shots, but my equipment doesn't understand the concept of your being my friend or that you have no interest in it. All it knows is that there's a naked woman against me, and -- " Emma saw the problem. "Yeah, um ..." she rolled over a bit to be able to get her leg over him in just the spot to hide his hardness, while still leaving no doubt in the viewfinder. She took several shots. As she shifted, her thigh brushed his penis, and he groaned involuntarily. Cale was mortified, "Sorry, Emma." She looked at him, "I'm sorry to do this to you, Cale. I know that you're attracted to me. Can you just put up with it for a little longer? I'm really not being evil here, I know that this must be tough for you." She kissed him quickly to express her thanks. He groaned again, "Part of me wants to ask you not to do that again, and part of me wants to beg you to never stop." Emma did her best to position them in some tasteful poses that would give the impression of a pair of people who were no longer really young, but had loved each other for a long time, and who were still deeply in love. She knew that she was probably going to have to discard a ton of these, but she was hopeful that there would be a couple that would make this all worthwhile. Then she thought about it. She was enjoying this with him. She knew he would have wanted more, but that was out of the question. And she made sure to keep it out of the question in her own mind. Finally, she used the hood of the truck to hold her camera. She took off her top. "This ought to cool you down some. Now, I want to get one of me with my head against your chest, or collarbone, it looks like it's going to be. I'll hold onto you, and you embrace me. I don't want much of our faces in this, just edges and sides, and closed eyes are a must, ok?" He was perplexed, "Emma, what ought to cool me down?" She snorted with a self-depreciating laugh, "Look, Cale. I don't have any tits. I just never grew any. You have more than I do." She set the camera's timer and stepped back to hold onto him. Cale looked down at the top of her head, "Emma, "he whispered, "I'm in love with your breasts. This really doesn't make it any easier at all." Her eyes opened, and the camera shutter tripped. She let go of him to reset it, "What do you mean?" Cale shook his head, "I don't know if I'm different or what, since I haven't made a study of asking. I look at the whole package, not just parts. I look at how everything fits together. Emma, they're perfect on you. You're gorgeous." She studied his face. There was no lie there that she could discern. She came back to hold him again, and they held it until the shutter tripped. She looked up at him, "I believe that you mean that, Cale." She kissed his lips quickly, "Thank you for that." Cale chuckled, "Nothin' to it, Em. It's the truth." They tried several variations on the theme before she asked him to lift her onto the hood. "It's pretty warm up here, "she said as she hit the shutter to see if the angle would work, "Now let's try one where you're kissing the inside of my leg, just above my knee. Remember, we've been lovers for a long, long time, so try to give a look of familiarity." Cale looked down, "You're killing me here, you know that? Move forward, Emma. As it is, I'll have to have the fender against my Adam's apple. That wouldn't be natural for this couple. She'd know it, and would move forward, since she's going to be at least a little hopeful that he'll work upward on her legs, right? And lean back a bit onto your hands." Emma nodded, seeing that he was right. He leaned in and kissed her leg, and then began to lick it. Emma reset the camera timer, wanting to get this aspect as well. When the shutter had tripped, she was about to get off, but Cale turned his head to face her, and moving his head forward, he blew a gentle stream of air at her. Emma sighed, and he gently lifted her legs a bit before closing the distance to plant a light kiss on her mound. He didn't move away afterward, waiting for her to swat his head away. Emma looked down, "No Cale, please don't." She watched his eyes look up at her sadly, and then she felt just the tip of his tongue enter her only a little for one soft lick before he pulled away to look back to the old farmhouse. "I'm sorry, Emma. I just wanted to tell you something, that's all." He felt her hand on his shoulder, and turned around. Her head was right there. "It's alright Cale, I know how you feel, and I also know that it makes this even harder for you. Thank you for what you did." She smiled. He felt a bit better, "You know that the only line that will work here is for me to say 'what are friends for', right?" She grinned shyly at him, "Come here." Emma lifted herself to scoot forward, closer to the edge. "This might be one of the worst for you, but I think our couple would do this naturally. Step close to me, and put your cheek against my nipple, looking that way, but close your eyes, and I'll hold you." She spread her legs to let him get as close as he needed. Cale exhaled, "Emma ... Christ." They tried it once for fit, and then she needed three tries to get one that she liked. "Ow." Cale said softly. "What, Cale?" He sighed , "I think I've just found a bit of rust under the wheel well here." She was confused, "What? How ...?" She peeked down, "Oh... Ok, only one more. I'm so sorry, Cale. You're being such a good sport for doing this." That third shot was better than what she'd hoped t o get. Even looking at the display on the hood of the truck in sunlight caught her breath. She jumped down from the fender, "I just had another brain wave." She had another of her ideas and, asking him to sit leaning back a bit and with a lot of jumping up to reset the camera timer, she managed one shot that knocked even her socks off. He was leaning back a little and she was lying on her front with her top half on him. They looked to be in an intimate conversation -- and yet not quite so intimate at the same time. The whole thing really gave off such a feeling of a long-lasting love. Though there was none of it in the shot, what the viewer was left with was the solid impression that she'd either just fellated him or was about to, and they looked so in love without any sappiness or stupidity coming through at all. "Drop the tailgate, I have one last idea, and then we'd better pack this in." She set the camera on the tailgate, "Stand there, and face away from me." She walked around the camera as much as she could to see into the display, "Ok, this'll work. The angle won't let the viewer see, but will leave no doubt. Let's get our pants back on and come back here." After Emma got him placed and checked the view from the camera, she stepped in front of him, and opened his jeans to pull them down. "Stand here, and don't move a muscle." She went to set the camera timer. "What's moving isn't exactly a muscle. What the hell now?" he asked. "Hold still now." she said as she ran back to him. "Just bear with me here, "she said softly as she dropped quickly to her knees, "Put your hands on my head as tenderly as you can and look down to the side with your eyes open or closed, it's up to you." He touched her head, and then she clasped his buns softly and pressed her face to his manhood until the camera clicked. He opened his eyes and looked at her as he enjoyed the feel of her warm breath on him. Emma hadn't moved. She stayed on her knees before him for over a minute. "Emma?" He gasped as he felt her soft kiss against him. His penis swelled instantly, and she took it in her hand and leaned back to look at it for a few seconds before she kissed the head of it, and left it with a soft lick. Standing up, she smiled at him, "I think I owed you that. Besides, I've never held one because I wanted to before." Cale put his arms around her and kissed her full on the lips, being careful to kiss her softly. He hugged her to him, "Thank you, Emma. That was really nice." He made sure to hold her for only a few seconds longer before he suggested that they pack up. Emma readily agreed. After getting everything packed away, they looked around for anything that they might have left behind. As they turned for the truck, Cale put his arm around her shoulders, "How about us two friends and pretend long-time lovers head into town, and I'll get us some lunch?" She slipped her arm around his waist, "I'd like that very much." "I'm going to be editing the shots from today for over a week. I've never taken so many in one shoot before. I'm so glad I brought all of my extra batteries and memory cards now." After lunch in the village, they headed back onto the road for home, and Cale was surprised to find that she took his hand suddenly. He didn't say anything; he just gave Emma a quick look and a warm smile. He found that part of him was a little sad, and part was very happy. It wasn't the relationship that he'd have wanted to have with Emma if he could have his wish, but it felt like a solid friendship to him now, and more, since they'd been a little bit intimate, and he was happy if it never went farther than that, as long as it stayed for a long while. Emma was deep in thought. Her mind was bouncing between the hundreds of good shots that she'd gotten -- and she just knew that in that number there would be a lot of great ones. But there was something that kept jarring her thoughts every so often, and she knew what it was. She was really, really getting into Cale. To her, he had seemed like another rock on the beach at first. But he sure was different, especially to a woman who normally didn't give much thought to men. She'd found that once she'd turned over that rock, and seen so many details underneath, she'd noticed another small stone under that, and it too held wonders underneath it. She wondered how many layers there were to him. They got back to her apartment and he helped her unload. "Hey, can I hang around while you do your photographer thing? I'll order pizza. I won't get in your way; I'd just like to look over your shoulder now and then. I won't even say a word about the pix." Emma had kind of hoped that he'd just go home, since she already felt a bit confused. But he put on such a little kid look that she found that there was no denying him, "I'll hold you to that, Cale. I can get pretty snippy while I'm going over things." A Man on an Island Ch. 01 He nodded, "I figured that. Today was pretty hard for me, since I'm new to this modelling jazz. I'd just like to hang out with you for awhile. I'll be good." She nodded at last, and he got on the phone to place the order. As he waited, he wandered around, looking every so often over her shoulder from across the room at the pictures that she was trying to do a first cull on, dumping the outright undesirable ones into a 'Dump" subfolder folder within the main folder. He saw a few that made him grimace to himself, but then he thought about it. These were art to her and others, and he was looking at them from a dumbass guy's point of view. If he tried to get into her viewpoint, they made perfect sense. He spotted a guitar leaning against the wall near the corner. As he got closer to it, he saw that it had a fine layer of dust on it. He sighed, guitars are like other people's old lovers sometimes, he thought. They wait silently, always hoping to be taken up again. He shrugged; the world was full of them. He looked to Emma, thinking to ask if she'd mind if he played it, but she looked so severe as she stared into her monitor that he just decided to take it out to noodle around on it. It was a nice old thing, he decided, not a great brand name, but certainly not one that turned out junk. He slipped into the kitchen and looked under the sink, and was rewarded with some wood polish. A few wipes and swipes, and it looked respectable again. He went out front to sit and try to tune it up as he waited for the pizza. Emma heard the tones from her old guitar. She hadn't looked at it in maybe a decade. He sure made it sound good, though. She kept working, but knew that if she didn't rest soon, she'd get one of her headaches. And then she heard him quietly begin to sing, and it made her smile. He sang old country-ish tunes that she'd never heard of. She wasn't nuts about the genre, but he sure made it sound alright. She even burst out laughing as he sang one about liking trashy women. He stopped playing when the pizza arrived. They sat eating, and Emma looked at him, "You play pretty well." "I was going to ask you if I could play, but you looked so mean at the screen there that I figured that it could have all of your attention for a while. And I don't play pretty well. I just play some." "Well I loved it, and I usually hate country," she said. Cale shook his head, "No. You hate what passes for country now. I usually look for the out of the way stuff that I find entertains me when I sing it. You ought to rest your eyes for a while, Emma. If I stared that hard at anything, my head would ache." He was about to make an exception about staring at her, but decided to leave it alone. "You're right, Cale. I'll stop soon. I'm almost done with the first cull, and then I'll stop." She looked at him curiously, "Would you sing some more for me, after?" Cale laughed, "What is it inside you that seeks pain? Sure. I haven't played in a bit, so it might get a bit rough." He sang her every song that he could recall, and she loved it. She especially liked 'Dixie Chicken' for some reason that neither of them could figure out. She asked him to sing it whenever he was stuck for another song and eventually, he managed to coax her into singing along. Finally, he looked at his watch. "Hey Emma, it's going on one o'clock. I'd better be going." He stood up and leaned the guitar where he'd found it. He stood at the door, "you've got lots of time to go through those shots, darlin'. You just take your sweet time -- you'll use less Tylenol that way." She smiled at him and nodded. "Cale?" she asked, "Can I ask you something, as long as you're that far away?" He nodded, "Sure, Emma." "Did you really mean what you said about my boobs?" His reply was instant, though he was a bit embarrassed by the question, "Yes. I meant every word. You'll find that I'm pretty honest. If I say it, I mean it." He turned and walked back to her, bending down on one knee to kiss her just once, "I had a great time with you today, Em. I really like spending time with you. And I've committed your boobs to memory," he smiled warmly. "You're going to be busy with these for a while. Give me a call if you want to see a friendly face again." "I will," she said as she grabbed a quick hug, "soon." She smiled at him as he left. Emma sat for a long time after Cale was gone. She finally got up, and shut down her computer and got ready to go to bed. In the light of the bathroom, she pulled her top off and looked at herself for a minute before switching off the light to get into bed. She smiled to herself. In her whole life, nobody had ever said anything nice about her little, non-existent breasts, but Cale liked them, and she knew that he was telling the truth. Cale found himself smiling as he drove home. He had no illusions about himself and Emma. He was pretty sure that nothing would ever happen between them. But he sensed that she had needed his honesty right there at the end, and he'd been happy to give it. He'd had a great day, all told, and was a bit sad that he didn't know when he'd see her again. But he knew one thing -- he'd been right to ask for her friendship. He went to bed happier than he'd been in a long time. A Man on an Island Ch. 02 ***A raging thunderstorm, late at night after a cast-iron bitch of a long work day. All Cale wanted was to get home. But for one friend who needed him, he'd go a long way. Even for a cup of tea. 0_o --------------- Cale drove through the sheets of rain with slightly bleary eyes. It had been one, long, cast-iron bitch of a day. The rain had begun in the afternoon, and he'd been working one call after another until things had slowed down just after midnight. He reached behind him to pop open the swing out window on his side. He needed the ventilation as he lit a smoke, but the last time when he'd cracked his driver door window, he'd gotten another wet lashing of rain in his face. Never much of a slow-learner, he'd gone for the one over the crew cab seat this time. He watched a lightning strike in the mid-distance, as it quivered to keep itself alive until it was spent. A few seconds later the thunder rattled the change in the little bin between the seats. He loved this old truck for rough weather. When he was driving it, it didn't give a shit what came down, and neither did he. The thought caused another one to arise and Cale suddenly had a thought about his younger brother Joshua. Like a lot of brothers, they were different, and yet they had a few common traits -- like keeping an old four-wheel-drive truck alive for shitty weather. They hadn't seen each other in a while and he thought that maybe it was past time to look him up and catch up again. He had the heat on full since he was still soaked through from the last job, and he had the air conditioning cranked since the moisture of his wet clothes kept threatening to fog over the windshield again. He sighed, only a few more miles, and he'd be home, and off for a few days -- and he'd disconnect the freaking phone too, if he had to. He heard his cell phone ring, and wondered who in hell would call him at this time. Not many people had this number. He was thankful that he was wearing his Bluetooth headphone now. There was a close strike as he opened the phone, and he winced. "Jesus ... Hello?" "Cale? Are you there?" It was Emma he realised, and she sounded odd. "Hi Em, are you alright? You sound strange." "Cale? I'm feeling foolish for calling you, but would you do me a favour?" He turned a corner and the wind screamed past his opened backseat window. He watched another lightning strike, "Sure, if I can, Emma. What do you need?" There was a pause as Emma hesitated. Cale thought he'd lost the call, "Emma? Are you there?" "Could you come over here? The storm is really bad here, and it's not stopping, and ... and I'm afraid of lightning." He thought about it as he looked at yet another strike, "Tonight's not a good night to be afraid of lightning, darlin'." She sounded so small on the line, "Please Cale?" He smiled, and she could have sworn that she'd heard the reassurance in her ear as he said, "Sure Emma, I can be there in maybe ten -- fifteen minutes. Look, I want you to do something for me while you wait for me to get there. Go and unplug your computer from wherever you have it plugged into, ok?" "Why Cale? I have it on a power bar with a surge protector." He frowned, "Ok, honey. I'll unplug it when I get there. Now, let's get off the phone. I'll see you real soon, ok?" She sounded disappointed, "I feel better talking to you like this. You don't sound like you're afraid of anything." He chuckled, "That's because I fake it really well. It's not safe to use phones during a bad lightning storm, Emma. I'd love to talk to you now, I've missed you, but I'll be there in less than ten minutes, so you just hang on till then, ok?" "Ok," she said, "I'm feeling pretty stupid about this." "No need for that. I'll be there as soon as I can." They finished the call, and Cale sighed as he turned away from the road to his house. ------------- Cale stood in the pouring rain knocking on Emma's door. She opened it, and stared at his dripping outline for a second. A near strike across the street deafened him, and caused Emma to scream and start to fall back into the living room. He almost jumped in shock himself, but he reached to grab her before she could fall, "Hi, Em. Can we go to your bathroom? I've been in these wet clothes for hours, and as soon as they began to dry, I got drenched all over again from your driveway to your door. I'm a complete prune under here." She nodded, looking like she wanted to hug him in her fear. He took her arm, "Come on. Please tell me that you have a towel that you can lend me." He stopped, looking at her computer, and then walked over to pull the plug of the power bar from the wall. Emma looked as though she was going to protest, but he just said, "Hey, give it a thought here. If lightning can come down half a mile, do you really think a little thing like the tiny surge suppressor in that power bar will stop it? The manufacturer might guarantee to replace your equipment, but they can't get your artwork back. I know what it means to you." She nodded with a smile, getting it now. As he passed the kitchen, he stopped to check if her kettle was full, and satisfied with that, he turned it on, "I need something hot inside me. If you don't mind, I'll make us some tea in a little bit." Emma nodded. "Why are all of the lights off?" he asked, "The street lights are still on in this part of town. I saw that on the way over." Emma looked as though she felt very foolish, "It's just something that I've always done in lightning storms," she said, "My folks used to both work shifts and I was alone a lot. I used to think that if I had the lights off, then the lightning wouldn't find me. I still do that, though I know it doesn't make any difference. I just feel a little better then." In the bathroom, she sat on the edge of the tub. There was another close strike, and the power went out. Emma whimpered, and Cale fished his LED flashlight out of his pocket. He turned it on and set it on the counter, pointing at the ceiling. He looked around. Emma was sitting huddled in the tub. He took off his shirt, and began to get his pants off. "I get the feeling that you've been in that thing all evening." "Yes," she said nervously, "why are you getting undressed?" "I've been wet to the skin since seven o'clock, Emma. I need to get these things off. I figured that we've already seen each other naked, so it wouldn't be that big a deal." He looked at her curiously, "Or is it?" She shook her head, "No, I suppose not." Cale towelled himself dry as fast as he could, "Emma, I need you to get out of that tub. We can figure out some other place that you'll feel safe, but believe me, that bathtub is not one of them. It's connected to the ground electrically through the pipes and the drain. A good close strike, and you might just light up, so come on," he held out his hand. She looked from his body to his face doubtfully. He got to his knees beside the tub, "Emma, I know you're afraid, and I understand that. But you're also looking as though you're afraid of me too. I don't understand that. I was under the impression that you and I were friends when I left here the other day. I'm definitely not going to hurt the first friend I've had in I don't know how many years, Emma. If I'm freaking you out so much, I'll get back into my wet clothes, since you don't have anything here that will fit me." Emma took a deep breath and sighed, "I'm ok now. I was the one who called you here through this crap." She stepped out of the tub, and they looked at each other. "Emma, "Cale sighed wearily, "I'm still the same guy that you took pictures of, and I'm still the guy who sang to you so badly. Look, just trust me here." Emma stepped into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm just so scared. How come you're not afraid?" He shrugged, "I'll tell you about it in a little while. Look, I'm going to put you to bed, do you have any hot chocolate? Would you like it if I made you some? You look to me like a hot chocolate kind of girl." "Yes," she said uncertainly, "Why are you putting me to bed?" He sighed, "It's the best place that I can think of for you right now, Em. You go and get into fuzzy pyjamas or whatever you feel like, and get into bed. I've been up since five this morning, and I've had one long, hard, soaking wet day and I'm pretty tired. I think you just need to hold onto me to feel better. I'll stay on top of the covers if you have a spare blanket, or if that's too much, I'll sleep in a chair. The important thing here is that you're safe. I wish you'd understand that. You're safe, Emma, from the storm -- and from me too. If you don't lose that freaked-out look whenever you look at me pretty soon, I think it would just be better if I leave." Emma looked at him, "No. Don't go ... please." She shook her head, "I'm just being stupid over something that's always frightened me. It's not you, Cale. It's me, and it's about time I got over it. I do feel a lot better with you here." She smirked then and he loved it on her face. "Come on, there just have to be a billion women in the world who'd think I was nuts, but you can put me to bed like a little kid and keep me from being afraid like the scaredy-cat that I am. Do you know any good bedtime stories?" They walked into her bedroom, and Cale handed her the flashlight while he stood in the hall facing the other way. Emma began to get undressed, and then looked back at his back for a second. She took off all of her clothes and got into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, "I'm done with the flashlight, Cale." He walked in to pick it up, "Do you take a bit of milk in your hot chocolate?" She nodded, smiling at his serious expression, and then he was gone. When he returned, he found her sitting up in bed with the covers pulled up. He handed her the mug, and sat in the wicker chair with his tea. There was another thunderclap, and Cale looked at Emma, hoping that it didn't cause her to spill, but she only smiled at him as she sipped it."I was afraid you'd spill." She shook her head, "I actually feel safe with you here, Cale. I was just so rattled before. I'm sorry I called you, but this lasted so long, and I just got more and more afraid." "It's ok, "he said, "lots of people are afraid of lightning. As long as it's a reasonable fear, I'd say that's healthy. I think a lot of what you fear comes from not understanding it. I'm pretty sure that if you knew about it, you could get a handle on it pretty quickly. I'm glad you're looking a bit better too." She looked at him curiously, "So how come I'm safe here in my bed, and not in the tub? Can't the lightning hit me here? And why aren't you afraid of it?" Cale shrugged, "I am afraid of it under certain circumstances, Em. I'd be terrified if I was out riding my bike tonight. I was sitting at a traffic light once in a storm, and a light standard got hit on the other side of the intersection, maybe a hundred feet away. I turned my head away from the flash, and saw huge arcs of electricity running from the footing of the standard that I was sitting next to into the ground. It lasted maybe five seconds, and it was about six feet from my foot. But for normal things, I'm pretty ok with it. I actually like watching it. You're as safe there as any other place, probably a bit more so. You have the window closed, and that's good, so you're ok. I suppose it's possible for a huge strike to come down through the roof all this way, but it's really unlikely for one simple reason -- lightning is electricity, and electricity is lazy. It always chooses the easiest path. To hit you in that bed there would be much harder than to just hit a lot of other, more attractive things, like TV towers, tall trees, all kinds of stuff." He grinned, "Not that you're not attractive, mind you. But to a bolt of lightning? Too much work. If you're outside in a storm, get inside. If you're inside, close the windows and doors, and stay off the phone. A nearby strike can put a spike into the line, and you can get a belt that way. Same with cellphones; a cell phone is a radio, and when you've got an active call it's putting out a signal. Lightning, while it's building up to a strike sends out pathways for itself, and being lazy, won't hesitate to use your cell signal as the last link to the ground. That's why I was trying to get us off the phone." "You look a little silly sitting in that chair, drinking tea in a lightning storm, naked." She said with a smile, "but you still look good to me." Cale smiled back, "I'll be fine as long as you don't pick up your camera. I'm afraid that I look like shit tonight. Seriously, I'm so sorry if I was making you feel nervous, Emma. I thought that since we'd been naked in that shoot together, you wouldn't mind if I got undressed in front of you." She giggled, "I'm starting to like having you take your clothes off for me. I'd better be careful, or they might take my 'L' card away. Are you really tired?" He nodded, "But I'm still happy to see you again, and now I have a couple of days off." "How about this, then, "she said, "If you say I'm pretty safe here - and I do feel safe with you, how about you come here, and you can go to sleep? If I get scared again, I'll be fine, as long as I can hug you." "Emma, you can hug me anytime you want to. I love it when you do, but I'd hate to have to wait for another storm to get one of your hugs." She waved him over to the bed, "Then get in here with me, Cale... No, I mean under the covers, silly." He slid uncertainly under the covers and she moved next to him. "Um, no fuzzy pyjamas?" he asked, "Not that I'd want you to wear them..." "Nope, "she said, as she hugged him, "Just me and my friend, Cale." He sighed, "You're really killing me here, Em. I just want you to know that." "I know Cale, and I'm sorry about that part of it." She reached to his face and kissed him softly. He kissed her back just as softly, though he squirmed a little uncomfortably. Emma noticed it, and reached down to help his hardness away from the blanket that it was straining against. She laid it on his abdomen carefully and they began to kiss again. "Cale, "she began, "I'm really enjoying this, but I might start to kiss you pretty hard. I'm kind of like that, just saying ..." He looked at her, "That's ok Em, as long as you don't break my nose or teeth, I'm fine. But you ought to know that there's a hazard to kissing a guy who's gone almost a day without shaving. Compared to yours, my face will be like sandpaper now, so you be careful." She took his head in her hands and began to kiss him harder. Cale decided to play a hunch that he wouldn't have been able to explain. He had a feeling that Emma might like to be dominant, so he always kept his kisses softer than hers. After a few moments, she responded by really going to town. Her kisses took Cale's breath away; he'd never been kissed like this in his life. He groaned softly, and Emma swung her leg over him. He guessed that she was looking for a place on his body to rub herself against. He'd been stroking her back, but now he just picked her up and moved her onto him. Emma was startled at his strength, "Wha-?" "Shh, "he whispered hoarsely, "You try to find yourself someplace good to rub on -- maybe my hip there." She took his advice and began to grind, grunting occasionally, "Oh Cale, I want to do something that's good for you too." He thought about it, "What would you do right now if I was female?" "I'd use either my thigh, or my knee on you, but I think that would hurt you instead." Cale smiled, and reached to lift his scrotum out of the way, "Use your knee, but aim lower, right between my legs, Em." She brought her knee forward tentatively, and found that it put more pressure on her mound through his hip -- so that was good. She lifted all of his male bits and carefully pressed her knee against him, and was amazed as he inhaled and responded to it. His penis was against her own hip, and she felt it throb. "Is that good for you there?" He nodded, and she began to make love to him again, as he stroked her back and sometimes grabbed her bottom to encourage her. That was it. She began to leak furiously out of both ends as she ground herself hard on him and shuddered into her first orgasm and Cale urged her on, telling her how good she was for him. When she stopped for a minute, she looked at him, "I never knew about that place on a man. Can you come like that?" Cale smiled, "No way, but it still feels great, and it can help sometimes, I guess. Maybe if you helped with your hand, I dunno. But it doesn't matter, Em. I'm having a great time with you. I don't know if most men even know about that spot. Certainly most women never find out." "But why?" she asked. "We're all centered on getting our rocks off, I guess. I never conducted a survey. I just know what I like, "he kissed her, "and I like that." She stared at him, "Really? I wasn't kissing you too hard? Sometimes I can't help myself." "I loved it, "he said, "You're the best kisser I've ever known. Do that all you want, but I might try it too." She was on him hard within half a second. Cale almost laughed once when he realised that she was completely ravishing his mouth, as though she was taking him that way. He thought it was terrific. She began to whimper and plead to him. "Cale? ... ever since the shoot, .... I can't get something out of my mind .... I keep ... I keep wanting to ...grind myself against your sweet face. Please Cale, ... please let me fuck your face, please?" He threw his arms back and pushed his head against the pillow, "I know how strong a woman you are -- and I know that you hate to say please. So when you say my name like that, and you use the 'P' word," he sighed, "I'm helpless, Emma." She sat up, "Move down baby." He moved himself away from the headboard a distance. She smiled wickedly at him. "Your kiss there that day told me how you feel, and that you might be a little good at this. Cale, I don't know how I haven't worn this thing right off since that day. I've been wanting this so bad." She moved up to straddle him, and he began to caress her thighs as he began to kiss. Emma rapidly became more forceful with him, holding his head to hump against him gently. Cale reached up to her nipples and put as much into them as he felt -- or tried to. Emma went from purely animal grunts to soft keening, stopping every so often to whisper his name plaintively. He grasped her ribcage under her armpits so that he could use only his thumbs on her nipples. It brought her back to her grunting every time as she rutted against his mouth. He sucked and licked, trying to follow any clues that her motions gave him. Finally she threw back her head and screamed out his name as she shook. It gave him chills to hear it as she sobbed. She pulled back a little out of sensitivity and sat holding his head so tenderly in the darkness, illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. Her head hung down, tears dripping onto his cheeks as she whispered his name to him again and again as she trembled. Only his name, as though it was the most important prayer in the world to her. She slid down to lie with him a while lateer, "Thank you so much, Cale. Nobody's ever made me cry before." She started kissing his chest, and lifting her head to suck his nipple into her mouth. "That's one thing I'm sorry about, Emma," he said, "I think you'd want more, and they're too furry." She lifted her head and released his flesh with a soft pop, "Oh shut up, baby. I'm going to learn to deal with it. It's not like I thought at all, and I like them. I like them a lot - especially since you obviously like it when I do this." A Man on an Island Ch. 02 She pointedly kissed each one, "I'm trying desperately to think of things that I can do for you here. That was pretty wonderful, Cale. I'd never have guessed that ..." He smirked, "What? That a man could do that? I know that I'm at a disadvantage for that, since I don't have the equipment, but I try." She kissed him furiously, "I know that. I'm just surprised at you. You're always surprising me, Cale. I know you put a lot into that for me. I'm not just here because I'm horny. I'm here because of something else. Something that I can feel coming out of your pores at me. I'm trying to deal, ok? I never expected anything like this -- like you." She reached down, "Is your thing still awake? I don't want him to feel left out. I just -- I just don't know what I can do for you, Cale. I haven't had one of these in me anywhere in, well in a long time, "she sighed. "And long ago I swore that I never would again." Cale sensed something, and rolled them both over onto their sides, "No. Don't worry about it, Emma. You don't want to, that's fine." He kissed the top of her head softly, "Let's just go to sleep, ok?" He held her with her face to his chest, stroking her body gently. She buried her face against him, and wondered why his chest hair didn't tickle the way that she thought it would have. She felt so safe and protected, as though nothing could get past him to reach her. She saw the room lit up with the flashes of the lightning; some so close that she heard the clicks and crackles. The house seemed to shake and shudder. The storm had gotten even worse, but none of it could reach Emma, she had Cale's arms around her. She turned her head, and listened to his heart as another bolt slammed down someplace close, followed almost immediately by the crash of the thunder, but his heart kept beating at the same constant pace -- as though he was doing it on purpose to calm her. She moved up to snuggle her face into his neck, kissing him. She began to whisper to him. "Cale?" "Yes darlin'." "Listen to me a minute, ok? I've always liked girls as long as I can remember. But when I got to be a teenager, there was just no outlet for me. I had a few really embarrassing incidents trying to express myself to other girls. So I tried to be normal, and --" He stiffened, "What do you mean normal? Emma, if that's the way that you are, then that's normal. Shit, I'm a guy and I get that." He felt her smile against his skin, "Thank you for saying that. You know what I meant, I tried to fit in. I went on a few dates, and even had a few boyfriends for a while. But I couldn't do what they wanted, and ..." "Stop." Cale said seriously. "I don't need to hear the rest, Em. Just nod if you were forced. That's all I need to know." He felt her nod once and sighed, "Listen, you need to know something about me. I'd never want to force you into anything that you don't want to do -- " "I know that, Cale, but --" He shook her, "I'm not finished. Please let me finish Em, and then you can say anything you want to." She nodded again. "Emma, you're my friend, and I'm your friend too. I know we've only known each other for a couple of weeks. I don't care. If you need anything that I can give you, just name it. If you need blood, and I'm your type, you can have all of mine. If you need a warm body, please pick me. I know I'm not equipped to give you everything that you'd want, but maybe I can give you what you need most -- until you find someone who can. That's what I'm hoping anyway." She reached to hold his manhood. She began to stroke it gently, and felt gratified that it responded so quickly to her touch, "Do you want to fuck my face?" "No." She was surprised, "Why not, Cale?" "I won't do it that way. I don't know if you can understand it. I liked letting you do that to me, because you needed it, and I liked it too. But for me to do the same thing to you doesn't do anything for me. I can be aggressive if you want me to be, but not like that. It's too demeaning to you. I've never treated a woman like that. I'd prefer it if you'd try to love it out of me with your mouth, because there would be love in that act if you wanted to do it -- or at least it would be easier for me to pretend that there was. But if you've had a bad time because some shithead jammed it into your mouth, I understand, and I'll never ask it of you." Emma was silent for a minute, "Do you want me for more than this, Cale? Do you want to be in a real thing with me?" "I'm not what you want, and I know that." Emma sighed, "That's not what I asked you. You're in love with me, aren't you Cale?" She felt his nod, "More than you can imagine, Em." Emma was a bit exasperated. She lifted her head, "Then answer my question, because I need to hear it from you, Cale." She looked at his face as she spoke, but what she saw took her words away. "Do you want me for your own- oh! No!" She stared in shock at the wetness in his eyes which betrayed him. "No Cale, no! I'm sorry, Cale." She kissed his face over and over, "Please Cale, I'm so sorry." She threw her leg over him and held onto him as tightly as she could with everything she had. "Stop, Cale." She rocked him as he wept against her, kicking herself for forcing him to face what he had known wasn't possible all along. He was wrong, she knew, but he didn't know it yet. He was mortified that she'd seen this far into him, and he wanted to get up. He hadn't been prepared to have someone look this close -- see the things which must be wrong with him compared to everyone else. It was suddenly a whole lot more than he could take. He wanted to get away from her; he needed to be alone. Someplace that he hated to be, but on his island, it was a dull constant thing, and not this sharpness. Emma wasn't having any of it, "No! You've made it clear to me from the first minute when you caught me at the coffee shop that you think the world of me. I let you into my heart in spite of myself, and now you're here, Cale. You're not getting away from me. You'll have to carry a bare-assed woman around if you leave because I'm not letting go, ever." She felt him beginning to win, he was too strong for her and she knew it. She grabbed his ear and forced him to look at her, "Look at me! Look at me, Cale! God-DAMMIT Cale! Please don't turn me into one of those women who can't even get their man's attention. We've barely even started." He froze and went limp, looking at her face in wonder. Emma smiled sweetly, "That's right. You're my man now, Cale. You've won." She kissed him softly, "I love you too, Cale, God help me." She pulled his arm over her and he held her once he had the idea. Emma rubbed her nose against his affectionately, "Listen, you and I are all fucked up. But I'm not about to let you get away, baby. If you can put up with me, I'll do my best for you, somehow." She looked down at him, and then back to his face. "Cale, please try this with me. Our sex life might be really confusing to most people, but I think that somehow -- if we talk things out a lot, we can come to something that will keep us both happy, and I really want to be your girlfriend." She heaved her other arm out from under them, "Christ you're strong... Look, I'm saying I'll try if you will. I have a dominant streak sometimes, I think you saw that. But I can be submissive for you too, Cale. We just have to find our way together, and it might mean that we trade roles sometimes. I know you can do that. I saw it myself tonight. And I know that you don't have the same equipment, but I'll try to get used to what you have if you'll just give me a chance." She pulled back, "So, what do you say? Shall we give it a shot? Will you be my first real boyfriend?" "You know I will but, why do you want me, Emma?" She chuckled, "Look baby, all of my life I've wanted a girl, but she couldn't just be any girl, Cale. I wanted a girl that was my equal. I can be dominant, and I can be submissive, but most of all, I want to be equal. I guess that's the key to my heart, really. I've never found a girl like that. I didn't want to repeat the experiences I've had with boys. But now, I've found a great man. I know that you'll let me be me, as long as I let you be you, and that's all I've ever wanted. I couldn't believe it as I got to know you. You don't want a girl under you -- unless she WANTS to be there, and not all the time, right?" He nodded, and Emma continued, "And you sure don't want a girl who makes you live under her heel -- I've seen that in your history already, though you're fine with it if you're making her happy. Most of all, you want an equal partner, and you don't mind everything else." She laughed softly, "So I can be the girl you want -- if you'll bear with me. The only problem is that you don't have one part, and you're built like a man -- because you're a man, go figure. I haven't found what I wanted in over twenty years of looking until I tripped over my own feet and landed against that wonderful chest of yours -- I just didn't know I'd hit pay dirt right away." She ran her hand over his hair, "Why do I want you? Jesus, Cale, I love everything about you -- I just needed to shift my focus. I never knew how much I like muscles. I never knew how it feels to be seen with you when other women look at me, and I know they're cursing me, like they just know I cheated at winning the lottery. Holy shit, Cale -- once I learned how to look, I found that my knees get weak when you look at me in a certain way, and I can't believe how much I love the way that you smell -- clean, dirty, freshly showered, or sweating like a pig. When you were sweating during the shoot, and we took those shots where my face was against you? I just kept inhaling the scent from your skin. I thought I had the flu or something - I almost fell down! How the hell is that possible? So, is mildly pretty little Emma who has no chest to speak of going to keep wandering around pissing and moaning about her bad luck?" She pushed him onto his back and poured herself on top of him, rubbing herself against him a little, "Or is she going to open her eyes to the obvious and say 'Damn! There's this gorgeous guy who thinks I hung the moon, and his vision is defective enough to make him think I'm beautiful. And he's the only person in the whole world who has ever liked my poor little tits enough to make me feel like a woman who is loved in any way. He'd do anything for me, including come over in a lightning storm when he's soaking wet from a long day and dog-tired just because I said please when I asked him to. But wait! Oh no, he has a pretty good-sized cock instead of a pussy. Oh, what's a poor lesbian to do?" Emma's heart leapt as she saw his soft smile. She suddenly pulled herself to his face, "Do you think I'm stupid? For the love of a wonderful person like you, I'm going to learn to suck boy really, really well. That's what I'm going to do at the very least, since you can give me head like nobody ever has before. Everybody makes all this noise demanding to be seen as the same as everyone else. We scream out that love is love, no matter the colour or gender. Well I'm putting my money where my mouth is, Cale. I love you, and I know that you love me, and let's just take it from there. Are you with me?" Emma stared at his face. She couldn't believe it -- Cale was happy, she could see it. She knew that she always wanted to see this look on his face when they were together. It made everything else fade into nothing. He kissed her, and she melted in a second, "Whoa," she said when she could draw a breath, "where did that come from? Your kisses keep getting better." He smiled shyly, "I either had to do that, or cry again. You're so beautiful -- especially when you're explaining your heart to me. I love you, Emma." She licked his ear, whispering, "I love you, Cale. Um, I need a clue from you here. How important is it to a man to shoot his stuff inside a woman? And I'm not giving you the reason why I want to know on purpose." He shrugged, "I can't speak for most guys. I'd be happy no matter how you got me off as long as I know that you care. I suppose the best ways would let me um, leave a deposit, since it means you're mine -- as silly as it seems. Hey, it's a primitive thing, right? I'm not the kind that goes really quick in a selfish way -- I hate that. I also have never rolled over and gone to sleep. It's just not my way. But as you said, we're a little fucked up, so I'd be happy with anything, honey. I don't care if I squirt inside, outside, up, down, whatever. "he smiled ruefully, "And I'd understand if you didn't swallow. I'd hate myself if I had to watch you gag, some people don't like the taste, some do." She moved down his body, sliding her hands over him, until she felt it under her chin, "Why is it wet at the end?" That's for lubrication, and even that bit is loaded with sperm -- Mother Nature stacking the deck." She grasped it and stroked a little, but looked up feeling foolish, "I don't really know the best way to do this. I've only sucked before." Cale gave her brief suggestions, and tried to be encouraging to her. Before long, Emma was pleased to see him writhing before her. She found that it didn't put her off now. She just thought of it as the equivalent of what she'd done for her female lovers, and tried her best. It wasn't anywhere near the same thing, but she found herself enjoying it some anyway. She kept looking at him, watching for the signal that he'd promised to warn her that he was about to let go, but she felt him swell, and was ready even before he spoke in that tortured voice. She had a surprise for him. If other women had done this forever, then so could she. Besides, he'd put so much into doing this for her. When he came, she swallowed as fast as she could, but did try to taste it once. She immediately regretted swallowing so much since she found herself liking it. The rest got away from her, but she went after it, determined to show him that she cared. When she moved up to kiss him, she found him thanking her with those kisses that stole her breath. She moved her thigh, and nudged his penis. She looked at it, "Hey, I thought it was supposed to get soft afterward. Did I do it wrong?" Cale chuckled, "No Emma. I think Mr. Happy just can't believe his luck." Emma laughed, "Careful, I might make that name stick." She slid back down and straddled him with a grin. "Em, what are you doing? We're not using any protection here." The look that she returned was serious, "Cale, just this once, I don't give a damn. I'll get a morning-after pill tomorrow, but tonight, it's really important to me to do this with you just once like we're supposed to since these parts fit. We'll discuss the options tomorrow and go from there. Right now, I want to try this with a real one for the first time in my life." He had no answer as he watched her lift herself to get him in the right place. They slid together groaning. She froze as the phone rang. "Who the hell calls anybody now?" He asked. Emma smirked, "Somebody who knows that I used to be afraid of thunderstorms." She moved only a little, and they both sighed. Cale reached over to pick up the phone and handed it to Emma. "Oh, hi. Nope, I'm fine, I'm pretty happy, actually." "What? Yeah, I'm happy. No, don't bother, Sherri. I'm not afraid anymore." "Thank you. Yeah, I used a ton of batteries on that one. Oh, he's a really great model that I found -- actually, he found me. I know, he's got this look. Well, he's got more than just one. He can say so much with any of them, really. It's up to the viewer to interpret. I tried really hard to work the shots that way." Yeah, it says that in the caption. No, it really was me. Thank God for camera timers." Emma giggled, "Well, they might look like that because that's what we really were doing, or not. I'm not going to say yes or no. Interpret them any way you like. But if you want a clue, my head is too close to him in the shot to be doing that. Yes I would know, because I've done it." "That wouldn't be a good idea for a few reasons. Well, I don't want to see you. No, I haven't been missing you at all. I don't really ever want to see you again to tell you the truth." She moved a bit more and they both sighed. Emma gave a little wiggle and let out a groan. "What? Yes, I'm with someone. None of your business. No, no, I'm not saying. Look, I'm trying to be gentle here. You dumped me, if you'll recall, for the fifth time, I think. I've lost count. And I just got tired of sucking up to be beat up again. No, forget it. There's nothing more to be said. Be an adult for once. I'm doing something really important right now." she looked at Cale with a smile, "No, there are more important things, like doing something really important right now. No, we're done. Bye." She pressed the disconnect button, and began to thrust herself harder, "Sorry, Cale." They made love for forty minutes, and Emma thrilled to feel him swell inside her. She'd been worried that he wasn't going to come -- especially after she'd had two during this. She tried to pay attention, and was rewarded when she felt his contractions, though his face would have told the story too. As they slowed, she took one of his hands from her breast and kissed it, "So now I have your seed inside me, and I even felt it when you came. I know this happens a million times a day, but I feel pretty special anyway." Cale pulled her to him, "You are pretty special, Em." They stayed like this, as he slowly left her. "What am I supposed to do now?" she asked, "I can feel your semen beginning to run out of me." "You can wipe it away, or leave it, honey. It's up to you." She slid down a little on him to rest her head on his chest, "I think I'll leave it. I can't imagine ever wanting to wipe it unless I had to, and I don't have to. Can you sleep like this?" "I want to. Can you?" "Yeah, "she sighed happily, "Good night, Cale. I love you, baby, and thank you for coming over." "You're welcome, and I love you too." A Man on an Island Ch. 03 ***Well, you know what they say: Into every life... But this is Cale. It never rains - not while there's a hurricane as a possibility. This is Cale's life and it's never been an easy one. When I write romance, I try to stay mindful of the way that life - with all of its warts just seldom lays out a smooth pathway. There are bumps and stumps and Holy Hannah, the mosquitoes are as big as... Oh. Sorry, that was another story. Anyway. I seldom write about good guys or bad guys unless I need it to be obvious. I try to write about people and the things that they do. There's my really poor and awful attempt at some color in this, so if you speak any flavor of Spanish, please try to forgive me. I'm doing my best. 0_o --------------- They became a little like Siamese twins after that – so much so that quite often, either Emma or Cale would just shake their heads with a chuckle and say that it was stupid. "My God, look at us," Emma would laugh if she came home and found Cale there working on dinner for them, "I've known people like this when I was at school and afterward," she'd sometimes say after sitting down on his leg with her arms around his neck. "You know those really annoying, clingy couples who look like they're not really that happy but they want you and everybody else to think that they're that happy?" "Yeah,"Cale would scowl, "I've always hated people like that. Even if they were that happy, to the rest of the world, it's about as enjoyable as looking at a toxic waste spill." "I know!" She'd say with obvious disapproval and contempt, "I just hate 'em. It's as though they're not really happy, they're just ALMOST happy, and the only way that they'll be really happy is if they can get under each other's clothes or something and they make you feel like you're trespassing to even see them or something." "Jesus, I can't stand them either," Cale would say with a grin, "Take off your shirt." ----------------------- Just before the holidays, Emma got very sick with one of the worst colds that she'd ever had. It really dragged her down and they had to cancel a lot of Christmas traveling, which made Emma feel even worse. She took some of her unused sick time and was just ... sick, miserably so. "I don't care, Cale," she sniffled with a little whine, "It's almost Christmas." "I was there," he said gently, "the doctor – your doctor, who knows you – warned you against traveling, unless you really want this to turn into pneumonia – again, he said. It took me almost five minutes to get my eyebrows unstuck from my hairline after he said that. Look, I know that this is making you feel even worse. You sit tight for a few minutes." "What are you going to do?" He smirked, "They say that laughter is good for the soul, so I'm gonna give you some." He set about getting some of her things together, and he picked up her camera bag and a suitcase. "We're going to my place." She didn't understand, "Why? What's at your house?" He gave her a look which plainly brooked no argument, "A very quiet Christmas. Your folks are coming in three days. I've already called them and they have directions. Your mother said not to let you get stupid and run around, pretending that you're alright. She told me that you almost died once. Your dad promised me that they'd come in three days - not the three and a half hours that your mom wanted. So come on, get something warm on, and if you even own a set of fuzzy pajamas, well they'd better be in evidence, because if you're not wearing them after we get there, you're not gonna like the ones that I buy you and make you wear very much." She looked at him and saw that he was very serious, "Ok, but where does the laughter come onto it?" He smiled, "Well, maybe I was wrong. It might be more like a little torture, I dunno, but I'm going to take care of you." "Holy crap," she said, seeing the imminent peril, "Ok. I'll be good." Cale was better than his word. At one point the next day, Emma's temperature shot up from her fever and despite her vociferous complaints and even threats, he poured her a tepid bath and put her in it, sponging her to get her temperature down to a point where acetaminophen could begin to get a grip on it. Emma shook like a sick dog, he told her sympathetically, but he didn't stop, and carried her to bed to go on playing nursemaid. "I fucking HATE that," she shuddered with her teeth clashing together, "I haven't had a bath like that –" "Since the last time that you overdid it," Cale growled at her, "Face it, Em, You're outgunned here. How do you think that I found out about how to do that for you? Your mother told me what she'd been taught at the hospital when you were a kid, so you can whine and cough and throw Kleenex boxes at me all you want, but I'm taking care of you." They sat in his bed later with her leaning against him as she sniffled. Emma was in her fuzzy pajamas and feeling somewhat better. He'd filled her with chicken soup and allowed her a few crackers and he kept the most delicious hot lemon tea coming as often as she asked for it. "I'm not happy," she said a little sullenly, "I know that you're doing your best here and everything, but I'm ruining our Christmas." He snorted with a soft grin, "You're not ruining it. Whether you like it or not, we're going to make the best of it, that's all." She moved to sit in front of him and she pulled his arms around her as she leaned back against him. "I'm not ruining it?" "No," he said softly, "You're sick Emma, but you're not dead. We've got each other, and I don't mind taking care of you at all." "But – "she blew her nose and wiped it with distaste, "I feel like shit and I'm so disgustingly sucky, I can't even stand myself." Cale kissed her head, "That's ok. I don't know if I could stand it for long otherwise, but you're a little cute to me when you're like this." "Well I know one thing," she said quietly, "You sure love me a lot." She sniffled, "You're doing all of this for me and you even let me sit like this with you while I feel miserable and boo-hoo at all of these sappy old movies like this." She blew her nose again and smiled at Cale a little weakly, "And if this isn't a test of your patience, I don't know what is." "You may be right," he said looking out of the window at the softly falling snow, "But I'm a guy, so sophisticated girly feelings are lost on me." He hugged her a little and grinned, "I just see this as my punishment for giving you that bath." -------------------- Christmas Eve was a surprise to her. Emma had just dozed off early in the afternoon, but when she awoke, she could just feel that the air felt warmer somehow and then she was able to just smell something wondrous through her clogged nasal passages. She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen, "What IS that?" He smiled, "Something that I hope you can eat a little of, or I'll be eating this for a week. "I've got a turkey for when your folks get here tomorrow, but this is something that I've wanted to do for Christmas forever. That's about the smallest Christmas goose that I could buy, since I didn't know whether you like goose and a lot of people aren't fussy about it." "I've never had it," she said, "but I'll try. What's that other fantastic smell? I can just smell a little and –" "To me," he grinned, "this is one of the smells of Christmas. It always has been. It's just red cabbage, shredded and cooked all afternoon. You chop up a small sweet onion and throw it into a big pot, and then you peel an apple and core it or quarter it. You put the apple in the middle of the pot and you add the cabbage, stopping now and then to toss in a few bay leaves, a couple of cloves, and a few peppercorns – whole peppercorns. Then you add some water and let it simmer for a few hours. It's done when the apple is completely dissolved and you can't find any of it. I think the peppercorns are there for added degree-of-difficulty points because you have to be a little careful not to crunch one. If you find one, you set it aside. When I was a kid, it was my curse. No matter what, I'd get all of the damn peppercorns. My brother Josh never got one. Anyway, I wanted to make this. I almost don't want to eat it. I just want to smell it and it feels like Christmas to me." Emma lifted the lid and a lot more or the aroma came to her, "Oh Cale, I'm getting hungry." "You must be getting a little better then," He grinned. When she turned around to head for the bathroom, Emma saw the tree and gasped. It hadn't been there that morning, but it was there now and decorated. "I got bored," Cale said in explanation as he shrugged. It wasn't lit, but it was magnificent even so. She looked like a little girl in her PJs almost clapping her hands together when she asked him to light it. ------------------- Emma was happy with the shots that she'd gotten out of the shoot with Cale. She posted many on the sites where she displayed her work, and even she was amazed. She'd had to set up a little company, since there were so many requests for prints. Sometimes, she had to devote most of one of her off days to the printing and shipping. Best of all, it got her known better and it brought her work. She was startled one day in the late spring to receive a call from a local store owner. When she went to the meeting that she'd set up, she met Arlene Simmons, a leggy blonde with an air of sophistication and quite a lot of class to Emma's view. She ran the most expensive lingerie store in the area and her store was always full, because Arlene knew something. As they sat at lunch, Arlene leaned forward, "I've been very successful for a lot of reasons," she smiled, "and one of them is something that I think you know as well, Emma. My prices are a little high because I bring nothing but the best to a little place like this. That ought to be my downfall, but it isn't. Every woman, Emma, every girl or lady out there wants to have something nice and special to wear for those times when she's feeling like being lovely. I wasn't always disgustingly wealthy, and I haven't forgotten how it feels to look through the windows of a shop like mine. That's why I have my sales. I pick items carefully and I discount them a little subtly. I've always made room for the woman who ISN'T wealthy. She just had to have a little hope that something that she'd want comes on sale. She just needs to be a little patient and come back often to see, that's all." She smiled warmly, "You can't imagine how it feels to see a woman who manages to keep her man and family fed with only a little. I remember that, Emma. I know how that feels, to walk into a store like mine and think that you're just there to look – because what's there is for other women, ones who've got money. That's why I do it, I think, for those women or their lovers, if they've got even half a brain. When a woman like that finds something for herself that she didn't think that she could ever have ..." She sipped her wine for a moment. "I think that you know what I mean, Emma. I saw your work with the male model, and I think that I just knew. Your work was meant to appeal to a lot of women – it causes pleasant daydreams, lights little flames of wistfulness. I like that." "Thank you, Arlene," Emma smiled, "That was what I was aiming to do there." "Can you do that with other models as well?" Arlene asked, "I'm about to launch a rather ambitious expansion. I've been starting to offer franchises in other places, and there will be a web outlet as well. I think that I'm going to need a catalog and if it works out, phase two will be a magazine." Emma tried to keep her mouth closed to a pleased smile, but she almost lost it when Arlene smiled back, "And a magazine will require staff photographers and a photo editor, think." ----------------------- Emma was driven then as she worked at a way that could see her get away from nursing and its stupid hours to move on to a rather late, but satisfying career doing something which she'd always wanted to do. Cale was excited for her and encouraged her to no end. -------------------------- Arlene showed up at Emma's apartment one day to discuss a flyer that she wanted and she arrived with a few armloads of her wares. Emma gawked a little and they grinned at each other. "These are awesome, Arlene," Emma smiled as she held up a camisole. "But where's the model? You said that you didn't want me to use the agency for this, so ..." Arlene smiled, "I'm not afraid to put myself into my work, Emma. I thought we could try a few shots of me with these things today, just to see if it'll work. I've booked you today until noon, right?" "Yup," Emma nodded, liking the task. She didn't see much of a direct challenge to this. Arlene was beautiful and Emma had a suspicion that there was a modelling past that Arlene wasn't talking about, but she figured that she'd know within a couple of test shots. Once a model, always a model. "I've brought a few things for you to try as well," the blonde said a little hopefully as they walked into the studio which was just off her bedroom. "I want to see how they look on you, and I remember from the last shoot that we did how warm you keep your studio for the comfort of your models." Arlene began to unbutton her blouse, "Well, the clock's running, I guess, so if you're ready, ..." --------------------- Cale was on his way home from his lawyer's office, and figured that he was a bit closer to the first call that he had to go to and Emma's place at the same time. He thought he'd surprise her and maybe have a coffee before heading in. He left his truck at the roadside and walked up the driveway, giving a curious glance at the sleek Mercedes parked behind Emma's bright yellow Volkswagen. The thing was so shiny, it looked wet. He shrugged, Emma knew everybody. He let himself into the hall with his key. He was looking through his text messages as he put the envelope that he'd been carrying down on the table in the dining room, and headed to the back of the flat, thinking that Emma might be out on the deck with somebody. If she was having company, he didn't want to disturb her, he just wanted to let her know that he'd been by. He heard muffled sounds from the bedroom, and rounded the corner to see a blonde woman on Emma's bed, and Emma on her knees on the floor. What they were doing was painfully obvious. Emma was making love to the one part that he couldn't give her – because he didn't have one. Cale's heart felt as though it had just been speared. He blinked once and the image remained, so he backed away a step before turning to walk silently back out. He leaned on the dining room table for a minute, since he suddenly felt like he needed the support of it. He realised that he'd been holding his breath. His first reaction had been shock, and that was quickly followed by more pain. The pain remained, but now he was angry at himself. They'd been together for well over six months now. The possibility of this had been about the only fear or misgiving that he'd had in all that time. He hadn't said anything to Emma because he thought he'd sound as though he didn't trust her. His eyes began to tear. This was all his fault. Emma had always liked women and he'd been a fool to hope for her friendship. That friendship had quickly turned into the love of his life, hands down. He'd never felt so alive and loved before. He blinked as another pair of tears hit his cheeks to roll off into space. He should have stopped it before they'd gotten involved. Emma had undoubtedly tried her best to deny what she must have obviously been missing, but sometime in their six months, what she really needed had gotten the better of her. He sighed as he thought that no matter what it might want, hope for, or how hard it might try, a cat can't be a dog. He slipped out the front door, taking care not to let the lock click loudly. He walked to his old truck and slowly drove away from the happiest times of his life. ------------------------- Emma had some strange thoughts running through her head. This had been the act that she'd ached for the most before she'd had her first lover. This was one of her favourite things to do in the whole world. Why was she so distracted now? She glanced up. Arlene was obviously enjoying this, she thought, what was her problem? She was doing what she'd missed doing for so long, but she wasn't getting much from it. She had to keep her eyes open the whole time. That was it. Every time she closed them, she saw his face instantly. She kept seeing a slideshow on the backs of her eyelids. A rapid-fire presentation that always came back to Cale sitting against a concrete post, eyes closed, and a single tear on his cheek. This wasn't going to work; she realised at last and finished Arlene quickly. She pleaded a headache and arranged for a raincheck for the shoot and got Arlene out of the place as fast as she could without letting on too much. She washed her face and made herself a coffee. What was the matter with her? She shook her head – there was no getting around it, she had just cheated on Cale, and she didn't really even know why. Cale had always done everything that she'd asked of him, anything that she'd wanted. She looked down. Dammit, she couldn't even blame him for anything in the bedroom. He worked so hard to please her in bed, and he blew her mind every single time. The boy never missed, no matter who was in charge. Sometime in every bit of lovemaking, he always left her a quivering, happy mess at least once, and usually more. She wasn't even considering normal orgasms – she had plenty with him. But Cale took her to the edge of consciousness and beyond, and she always came back to herself to find him holding her and whispering his love. This was so stupidly ironic it was beyond belief. They'd never spoken of it, but she just knew that if there was one area that Cale felt inadequate in, it was that in spite of every wonderful piece that there was of him, he knew that he didn't have what she had done this for. She knew she'd been stupid. The guy had so much going for him, and was so willing and attentive. Worst of all maybe, he never ever stopped showing her what she meant to him. Any woman in her right mind would kill to have just a shot at him. And what had she done here? Yes, it was a struggle for her, but it wasn't as if she was forced to suppress her nature – she'd wanted to be his girl. So he didn't have a vagina. Everyone wants and desperately needs that one person for them – and she'd found hers. It just happened that he was a man. She felt a guilty tear come to her. How many times had she had to listen to women who'd made their choices and were stuck with abusive, or at best, inattentive men? And here little Emma had won the game with Cale – and she'd just cheated on him. Well, he was never going to find out, she decided. Emma smiled, she thought that Cale would even understand if she told him and promised not to do it again – he was that kind of man. No, she wasn't going to jeopardise her own good thing, she decided, Cale was worth anything. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She was feeling guilty, she knew it, but she also wanted to send him a little note to say that she loved him so – because she did. She quickly composed it and hit the send. He might not see it for a little while, but she knew that he always checked his phone every few hours if he could. She was startled to hear the old ZZTop song that he used as a ringtone. It was faint, but she'd heard it often enough to know most of the words to Rythmeen by now. The phone would play the whole song before it stored the message and gave up. She followed the sound to the dining room. Cale's phone was lit up and playing on the table. What was it doing here? He always carried it. She walked over and picked it up to open it. She saw her own message there as it stopped playing. A Man on an Island Ch. 03 She looked down. There was a large envelope on the table. It was addressed to him, but it was from a law firm, she could see. She also noticed some drops of liquid on the table top, and there was one on the envelope. The envelope was open, so she pulled out the thin sheaf of papers, scanning quickly. It was Cale's will. She looked through it, and found that he had updated his will that morning. She was shocked to read that, aside from his Harley that was to go to his brother, Cale had left everything in his name to her, and made her his executrix. She touched one of drops and looked at the bead of moisture on her fingertip. Water. What was water doing on the table? Nobody had been here all morning, she thought. She tasted the drop and felt her world shift. It was cool and worse, it was salty. Emma suddenly had to sit down. She tried to put all of this together. The most probable answer was the most horrific one that she could imagine. For whatever reason, he had made the changes to his will. She knew him well enough to know that he would tell her what he had done soon afterward. She knew that he had just had his annual physical, and he was as healthy as a horse, so he probably had just done this because he thought it was best for her. So, if he had come to give her the will .... her heart froze. She remembered that he had sent her a text message a little after eight o'clock this morning – on the road from this phone. Cale must have walked in while she and Arlene ... God, no .... And then he must have begun to cry. Cale could be such a hard man to the world, but she knew there was one thing – one person in all the world maybe, who could crush him without effort. Emma somehow knew that she had done just that. Emma had done it without a thought. She burst into tears herself. Fifteen minutes later, Emma began to pull herself together. She savagely pushed her guilt aside. She was likely going to have as long as she would ever want to feel sorry for herself. She tried to think clearly. Where would he have gone? He was supposed to be working this afternoon. She knew that he was most likely out of the shop, but she called there and asked for him anyway. The receptionist sounded odd, and a bit put-out to speak with her. Finding that Cale wasn't there, she was about to hang up when the receptionist asked her to hold the line. A moment later, she heard a male voice. It was Bob, the owner of the company. He asked Emma who she was, and Emma told him. "I thought it might be you," he said, "I remember Cale introducing us at the company dance last fall. Look Emma, I'm not really supposed to say anything that concerns our employees to outsiders, but Danielle told me that you're looking for him?" "Yes, I need to find him, quickly if I can. I wouldn't bother anyone there if it wasn't important," Emma said. She heard Bob draw a breath, "He came in here a few minutes ago to see me. He was supposed to head right out to a job that he was leading. He told me that he needed an emergency leave for two weeks. Cale hasn't taken any time off in a long time, and I wanted to give it to him, but I need him on that job so I turned him down. Emma, he handed me his resignation and walked out. He's the best man I've ever had here, but he just quit on the spot. Now I'm going to ask you to do me a favour if you can in exchange for what I'm about to tell you, alright?" Emma was stunned. Why would he quit his job like this? She recovered, and told Bob that she'd try if she could. "If you can find him Emma, would you please tell him that I'm going to hold his job open for as long as I can. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I'm assuming that it's something to do with the two of you. I want him to know that there's no hard feelings at this end, and if you can get him back here as soon as possible, I'm willing to pretend that nothing happened. Now, Cale has a brother. He said that he was going to visit him one day soon." Cale had never mentioned his brother to her with more than just a few words, but Emma knew that unless it was top of mind for him, he was far more interested in her life than his own. Emma remembered Cale's will, "His brother? Ok, that's more than I had. Where is his brother, Bob?" "All I know is that Cale told me once that his brother is a soldier and that he's often out of the country. But every year, he takes his vacation leave to go and help out at a cattle ranch or something in a little place not far out of Santa Fe. Cale said to me that he was thinking to go there. He hasn't seen his brother in a long while. That's all that I have for you. Good luck I guess, Emma." She thanked him and hung up. Emma only dwelt on it for a second before jumping up to drive to Cale's house. On the way, she tried to figure out what was looking like irrational behaviour on Cale's part at the moment. He was the most rock-steady man that she'd ever met. Obviously he was that way to most of the people who knew him, yet he'd quit his job just like that? She tried to put herself in his shoes. Even allowing for the upset, it made little sense. As she pulled into his driveway, she noticed that his car and truck were there. Emma got out and walked up the driveway. She laid her hand on the hood of what was now her very favourite pickup truck in the whole world. She could feel the heat still coming through the metal. She knocked on the door, and after getting no reply, she let herself in with her key. Emma ran through the house, looking for him and calling his name but there was no answer. She went out back, and saw that he wasn't there. Walking back into the kitchen, she saw a mug on the table. It still had a few drops of coffee in it, and the mug wasn't cold yet. She touched the side of the kettle, and had to pull her hand away quickly. So he'd been there within the last twenty minutes, she assumed. Emma walked slowly through the house and noticed a few things here and there that spoke of a quick departure; clothes on the bed that were taken from the dresser drawers, but rejected in favour of something else, maybe, and she saw that his toothbrush was missing, along with his razor. She walked out of the house, and then headed to the garage. It was locked. Cale never locked his garage, she knew. On the keychain that he'd given her was a garage key. A quick look inside, and she knew that he was traveling on his bike. Emma locked it up, and then went back inside. She had no idea now where to look, and she'd just missed him by minutes. Emma sat at the kitchen table and cried. ------------------------- Cale sat comfortably on his bike, the big V-twin rumbling contentedly between his legs. Today- right now – there were only two features that he was interested in. It wasn't bad to sit on and it could eat miles with ease. For all of that, Cale still felt like crap. He was back on his island, but the pain in his chest was still too raw to be assuaged. He'd really thought that finally he was having his turn – his shot at happiness. He shook his head. Still an idiot after all these years. He was pissed at his boss, too. He never asked for much, but whenever he wanted time off, he was just too important to be able to spare. Right... Cale hadn't had a vacation in years. Well now he had one, he thought, for as long as it took – or until the money ran out. He was pleased to a tiny degree that he'd been able to make his getaway clean. Cale didn't want to talk to anybody. He knew that Emma would be wondering about him in a few hours, and if she put it together, she'd be upset. But it couldn't be helped. He never should have hoped for her heart in the first place. What the hell had he been thinking? He should have just let her take her damn pictures, and let that be it. He wished for a moment that he'd never agreed to the other shoots, but then told himself that he'd had more than six months of the most intense love that any man could expect to have a right to have. Or to survive, he smiled. He sighed sadly; he knew he was badly hurt. He felt like he was bleeding as he rode, but with that said, he knew that for once in his life at least, he could say that he'd really been loved. He blinked away the stinging that the thought had brought to his tired red eyes. Cale pulled into a large motel fairly close to the border and checked in. He got his gear to his room, and then walked back out to lock down his bike, remembering the lock for the disc brake rotor. He went to eat a featureless meal in the dining room and then went back to his room and sat on the edge of the bed and just let the hurt wash over him. At last he thought he could maybe sleep and suddenly thought of his phone. He was certain that it was probably clogged with messages from Emma. He sighed. This had started out to be such a hopeful day. He and his brother Josh didn't see each other enough, but Cale had finally figured out that this time every year if he could, Josh spent his vacation time in New Mexico and after a little careful prodding, he and Josh were exchanging text messages and emails. He felt great about that and he really wanted to see his kid brother again. It had given Cale an idea. He'd done a little prep work, and wanted to suggest to Em that they take a ride to see his kid brother, a real comfy easy-going vacation. Just like the lovers in her photos would do, he thought. Just like two friends who had become lovers and then gotten married. That was what he had hoped for. Then it had all turned to crap. Just like everything in his life always seemed to be able to do. He realised that he couldn't find his phone. He backtracked his day to the last place that he knew that he'd had it. Emma's place, he'd left his phone at Emma's. So between his phone and the copy of the will, she'd know that he'd been there. Poor Emma, he thought. He turned out the light. ------------------------ Her shift at the hospital was pure hell, but she got through it. During the drive home she tried to summarize what she had. It wasn't all that much, she realised. At home, she grabbed some paper to begin making notes. Emma only knew that she had hurt him badly, but if this could be saved, she was determined to do anything to get her man back. She knew that this love had started out mismatched, star-crossed, and just plain fucked up, but that she'd never been happier in her life. No matter how this ended, Emma now knew that Cale was the love of her life. She wanted to cry some more, but held it off. She wasn't going to give in to misery yet. She could sit here and weep, or she could do something. She had no real idea what, but was willing to go to any length for Cale's love, and if it couldn't be saved, then at least she'd be able to tell herself that she'd tried, and most of all, she wanted to apologise to Cale in person. He deserved that much. She turned on her computer, and tried to find out something about New Mexico and the Santa Fe area. Half an hour into that, she had a brainwave, and dove for the lawyer's envelope. There it was. Mr. Joshua Taylor, and there was even an address, one in New Mexico, since Cale never knew where Josh could be posted to next. Now, how long does it take to get to Santa Fe on a motorcycle? She figured on Cale just wanting to get there to give herself a short timeline. She guessed that if she was driving there on a vacation, she'd take about a week. She gave Cale five days or less, considering that he was Superman on vacation. She smiled sadly at the thought as she got ready for bed. Going to the bathroom, she noticed that she has started her period and frowned – oh, this just keeps getting better, she thought. She found herself desperately searching for some article of his clothing that he might have left there. She found a sweater of his, and took it to bed with her. She really wanted to smell him again. ------------------------------ Cale lost a little time the next morning looking for a pay as you go phone. He was stuck for a minute when they asked him what area code he'd like. He wondered for a second if he ought to transfer his old number onto this phone. He figured that Emma wouldn't be using it, so that's what he did. He had little trouble crossing the border, and then just settled in and let it roll. --------------------------- Emma sat at her table sipping her coffee. She was thinking of herself and Cale. She had often thought of them as the two lovers in her photographs, still so much in love, and yet so comfortable with each other. She wondered what the woman would do in this circumstance, and then snorted angrily. That woman would never have done what she had done, she knew. That woman would have known what she had, and would have done her part to protect their love, just as the man would have done. You don't mess up a love like that; you just enjoy it and work at keeping it strong. Emma almost cried again at the thought. How much more stupid could she have been? Ok, she thought, grabbing the pad of paper, let's run over this again. She wrote down the address and thought some more. Four days until he maybe makes it there. She figured she had some time. A little light bulb lit up in her head. Cale's computer! Maybe she could learn more from his email. She felt a bit sheepish about it, but quickly discarded that notion. She grabbed her car keys, and as an afterthought, she stuffed Cale's phone into her bag. Cale hadn't set any passwords on his PC, and Emma thanked him silently for that. Reading through the past few day's mail brought a lot of tears to her eyes. She saw the few that they'd sent each other, and picked over the mail between Cale and his mysterious brother. She almost jumped for joy when she found the directions that Josh had provided from Santa Fe to where he was staying. Emma was careful to go through both the inbox and the outbox. It was just too much – Cale had mentioned to Josh that he was planning to ride out with her, but hadn't asked her yet, since he wanted to change his will and he thought that in that time, he'd have worked up the courage to ask Emma to marry him. She hung her head and bawled. She turned on the printer and ran herself hardcopies so that she could glean what she could anywhere she was. She sat back for a minute. She doubted that it was a possibility, but if she could somehow pull this mess out of the fire, she vowed to make Cale just as happy if she could. She allowed herself a small smile if she imagined that the woman in her pictures had made only one mistake, just one... She pulled out his phone, just to hold onto something of his. She looked closely. The phone couldn't find a network. That wasn't possible. She put it in her bag with everything else and went to work wondering about it. When she had a chance, she went outside and looked at the display on the phone again. Same thing, she thought. She quickly used Cale's phone to dial her own cell, and got nothing. She turned his phone off and went back inside. She saw one of the hospital IT techies and asked him about it. His answer gave her a thrill. Back at home that night; she looked at his phone again. So he had cancelled this phone once he'd figured out that he'd left it behind. That must mean that he's still using the same number on a new phone. She almost dialled from her cell, but realised that he'd recognise the number. She looked at her land line phone. Should she dial now? He'd be on the road most of the time anyway, but she decided the call him during the next day and leave at least a message. She went to sleep holding his sweater again, feeling at least a little hopeful. In the morning, Emma thought about what she wanted to say. There was no guarantee that he'd even listen to it, she knew. He'd spot the area code no matter what, and maybe guess, but she knew that she had to try. She wrote it out on her pad, not wanting to mess this up. Cale felt only a little better today. The problem was that he knew that he wasn't healing. He knew that he wasn't going numb, either. He felt ... he felt more like his heart was dying, but he wasn't. The more he rode, the more he came to grips with the thought that he'd had his one love, and it was just a long slide into his grave from here. With a sudden stinging in both of his eyes, he knew that he wasn't ready for more life on his island. He didn't think that he could handle another few decades of this. He felt empty, but he wanted to see his brother one more time. He stopped for a smoke as he was leaving Missouri. Out of habit, he pulled out his phone, and wondered what he'd done it for. He almost put it back when he saw there was a voicemail on it. He was going to ignore it, but remembered that he had a couple of quiet customers that he'd stolen from his asshole boss. They were clients who were fed up with the company that he worked for, but loved Cale. He hadn't told anyone that he was leaving for a time. He figured that he ought to at least take the message, and call them back. He just couldn't place the number, but then it had been a bitch of a week so far. He dialled his access code and listened. "Hello Cale. Please, please don't dump this message. I've figured out that you must have seen what I was doing. I don't expect you to believe me, but it was the only time, and ... and I don't even know why I allowed it to happen. But I knew it was wrong and I asked her to leave soon after you must have seen us. I'm so sorry that I hurt you Cale. I'd give anything to make it early in the morning on that day again when you kissed me as you left. I know that you're on your bike, so please be careful. I love you very much, Cale, and I always will." Cale knew that he couldn't ride. He stood there on the side of the road with a phone in his hand. The wind from the tractor trailers whipped up the dust that swirled around him. That afternoon, Emma went into work early and booked some of her vacation and sick days that she hadn't used. Her supervisor agreed that she was looking pretty worn out and agreed to the request. Emma was saddened on the way home later as she thought of the likelihood that Cale would rebuff her, but decided that if she didn't try, then she must not be worth him, and that helped her resolve a lot. As Cale ate his late evening meal in a restaurant, he heard his cell go off. He silenced it and looked for a moment. It was the same number, and he also had a text message. He put the phone in his pocket, not daring to check the messages here. When he got back to his room, he called Josh and chatted for a bit. Josh noticed something in his tone, but let it slide, figuring that Cale was just road-weary, and glad that he was finally on his way. After he hung up, Cale tried to ignore the thought of his phone, but finally listened. "Hi Cale. I don't know where you are, but I worry for you. I guess I'd better get used to not knowing, huh? I'd like you to do something for me when you get back – if you ever get back. Please change your will again, and leave everything to your brother. I sure don't deserve what you did for me. That would be something that the man at the homestead would have done for his woman. But that woman would never have hurt him. I like to think that you're really that man. I don't think of myself as the woman anymore because of...because of what I did to you. I hurt so much, Cale. I can't even imagine how you must feel. I don't even know if you'll hear this. I'm still your friend, or I'd like to be. I'd like to be your anything, Cale. I love you." He almost went looking for a liquor store right then, but just sat on the floor in his room and looked at the wall. He'd saved the messages. He hoped his kid brother could come up with a way to copy them. Listening to them tore his heart out, but he loved to hear her voice. He checked the text message. A Man on an Island Ch. 03 "Please text me to let me know you're alright. Please?" He thought about that for a long time. He thought that he'd just ignore it, but he thought that it might hurt her. As ripped up as he was, Cale didn't blame Emma. Finally, he just sent: "I don't hate you, Em. I understand why you did it." He was in bed and about to turn off the light when his phone chirped. He sighed and read it. "Ur wrong. Gender means nothing. Love is love, stupid is stupid, cheating is cheating. I'm so sorry I hurt you. Stupid Em" He hadn't even thought of a reply when it went off again. "You're the best person I ever knew, the best lover I ever had. My best friend." Oh God, he thought, she's killing me long distance now. He tried to shut off his phone, but Emma was quicker. "Sleep & ride safe. I love you so much, I sleep in your sweater. Em" Hundreds of miles away, Emma smiled for the first time in days as she closed her eyes. Cale shut off his phone and went for a walk. He'd never really sat back to think about it before, but he supposed that he now had the time and the mind-set for at least a little introspection. Like a lot of places, he didn't have far to walk before he found himself in front of a liquor store in this one. He didn't drink much as a rule, but if this didn't qualify as a reason... Back in his room, he thought things over. He'd never been one of those people who were what he considered lucky enough to have a whole lot of relationships. He'd never really told anyone, and in point of fact, he'd never made the admission to himself that was coming up inside him right now. Cale grabbed the little notebook that he always kept with him. Sitting on the bed, he began to look back. Before he got very far, he smirked bitterly to himself and decided to be at least a little bit logical here, so he quickly made up a short-ish list of names, deciding to be brutally honest with himself. With the list made against the left side of the little page, he drew a line down vertically and then began to write outcomes on the right side. It took him no time at all and if nothing else, it caused him to realize something. Going right back to his first shy attempts as a kid, every single serious relationship that he'd ever been in had come to the same end as what he was faced with here. There had always been somebody else who had been able to draw the other person away. Cale never thought of these things. He was busy just working and trying to live his life. With it all laid out here almost graphically before him, it was pretty sad. What was worse, the last three – not counting Emma – had ended once he'd learned that he'd been cheated on and had forgiven the transgression - and accepted the promises that it wouldn't ever happen again. Every promise had been broken. Every one, three times out of three. What was it about him that made this happen? He wondered about it for a time, but then just shook his head. He guessed that he must not have been what they'd wanted. It fit somehow, he thought. He ended up staring at the opposite wall for a little while when he thought back to how he'd always tried so hard to try to forget and start fresh when the other person asked for another chance. He sighed. Those had always ended the same way; with a painful repeat performance. Well, painful for Cale, anyway. There had been his wife, two girlfriends after her who hadn't lasted long, and now Emma. What made this one the hardest for him was that in spite of everything, he really thought that this one would work. He finished his drink and tossed the ice cubes into the bathroom sink, but then changed his mind and decided on another. Once he'd poured the whiskey, he twisted the top on tightly and put it into one of his saddlebags. There was no point getting stupid over this. The next morning at breakfast, Cale was astounded to read: "Please say I'm still your friend. Em" Cale rode on through the top of Texas, wondering. He figured that if it had been him who'd been found out, he wouldn't do much more than apologize and walk away, knowing that it was over, but he guessed that like a lot of things, he was just different in a dumbass sort of way. But Emma wasn't going to let this alone. Now he was hurt and confused. Just peachy. But he found that he was beginning to actually see the scenery now instead of a narrow band of road. He thought about his old sweater. Well it had served him well over the years, so it deserved to be next to those little beauties, he thought with a grin. He was hauling ass today, hell bent for someplace. The clouds opened up on him, but he didn't much care. He'd gotten his rain gear on and was motoring. But he still had the emptiness inside him. One more day, he figured as he ate in the dining room of a nice and large motel, where the care of the management was obvious. He sat and wondered how many times he'd been in a place where they actually had a dining room – with staff. The place was done up in a friendly fashion, and yet, there was no tackiness to it at all. He was wondering how they'd done it when he realised that he was actually looking around himself again for the first time in days. He went to his room pulled out his phone and, cursing the small screen on the phone, he composed several texts and saved them as drafts so that he could send them one after the other. He hated himself for doing this, but right now he wanted to be left alone. "I know you're sorry. All my fault." "I was the one who pestered you." "Mail the will to me or toss it. I don't care." As he sat looking at, but not watching the TV in his room that night, Cale came to a decision and called Josh, telling him a lie that he hated himself for to say that something had come up with a project at work and that he was heading back. Their reunion would have to wait for the following summer. He hated to do that, but he knew that he wasn't going to be anywhere near the sort of company that Josh deserved in a brother right then. Josh understood. He even knew that Cale was spinning him a tale and he called Cale on it, getting the truth out of him and saying that he knew the feeling and that it was alright. Right after that call, his phone clamoured for attention. "Very sorry again I hurt u. Words don't work. Will do anything 2 make it better. Anything." He looked at it. What the hell now? It chirped again. Cale actually chuckled. The confined space of a text message was causing her to sound Japanese or something. Another chirp, and he read a continuation of the previous message. "I mean that. My boobs ache for you now. All of me hurts. All my fault." That one made him hurt in several ways just for reading it, but there was another right after it. "Where r u?" Cale looked at the screen for a long time, long after it had gone dark. He didn't suppose it made any difference now: "Near Tucumcari, NM, going west." The next one shocked the hell out of him, and they were coming fast. "Need you alive & in my arms. Give me 1 chance. Never let you down again." "Luv u 4evr Cale, till I die. Nevr stop. If u can evr luv me again, pls say. I NEED my Cale back." Cale frowned at that one. If she'd needed him that much, then why had she taken the chance that she had? He thought of himself as a simple man, but even allowing for what he guessed were the more complicated people out there, he'd never have done it, no matter how complicated he might imagine her personality to be. He felt his shoulders sag. It was Emma, sweet complicated Emma. He almost pressed the call button. It was what he ached to do. As he fumbled, trying to get his large work-hardened fingers to find the tiny button, he saw the notebook on the nightstand along with his bike keys and looked at it very sadly. He dropped the phone onto the bed and picked up the notebook. People do what they do for the reasons that they do them – or not, he thought. Most of all, people do what they've always done. Based on the script that he saw before him, he knew what would happen again eventually. And even if it didn't, what he was looking at here told him that he didn't have it in him to even think about going through even one more repeat where he offered his hopeful forgiveness and tried to hide the lack of trust that he'd always have in him if he did. He hadn't started out this way, but it was sure home to him now, wasn't it? He knew that this was his shortcoming. Another in a long, long list apparently. It was a little new for him, he guessed, but it was there, right on up there with his other shortcoming – the one where he'd struggle sometimes to get off the fucking island in his head and then wonder why he'd tried. Well, he was at that moment, he thought. The one where he'd always caved and offered the other person their chance to do it to him again. They always did; the proof was on the little pages of the notebook in his hand. He picked up the phone and sat down on the bed. If there was one thing that Cale believed about himself in matters of his heart, he knew that whatever choice he made would be the wrong one. What he wanted to do was throw the device against the wall in frustration and hurt. But he didn't do that. He turned his phone off. He didn't want to see anybody; hear or read anyone's begging to allow them to hurt him again, nothing. He wanted nothing. He pulled out the bottle and after slowly drinking it all while thinking things over and trying to look forward, Cale was a little glad that it wasn't a big bottle, because he didn't have that many things to think over. He went to bed. ------------------------ The next day, he decided to just ride around a little to get the cobwebs out of his mind so he paid for another night at the motel and climbed onto his bike. The phone went into one of his saddlebags, right at the bottom and he didn't look at it again. After that, Cale felt better and had the beginning of a rough sketch for how he'd move on as he rode, enjoying the scenery. The only thing that he wanted now was to find another job and he knew that he was well-enough known in his trade that it wouldn't be much of an issue. There was another thing that he'd decided and he implemented that change right away. Cale felt as though his island was on its way to becoming a fortress, and though he didn't want that, he seemed to be powerless in it. He only knew how he felt. The world could go to Hell anytime now. Cale didn't want to play anymore. With the decision made, all that Cale had to do was to get through the last part of his life, he guessed. He's said it to himself to get a bit of distance and it didn't work. He just rode around, trying to clear his mind. That didn't work either and all that he succeeded in doing was to get himself lost. It took him no time to find himself off the highway and onto roads that looked as though they came from out of nowhere and went right back there – in the other direction, of course. He looked around. Wherever he was, this wasn't anything like the town where his room was. He pulled into a bike dealership and decided to ask for some directions. The directions that he was given made no sense to him, but he listened carefully. As he was on his way out, he noticed the diner next door, so he walked over and bought a take-out burger and fries, not really wanting to see anyone. The directions that he received there were no better. As he walked back a little slowly trying to hold onto everything while working on maybe trying for a slurp of his cola since his mouth tasted like the floor mat in the back seat of a taxicab, he saw a woman eating a hot dog while walking around his bike as she checked it out. Bikers are bikers the world over, he thought. He didn't mind, though he didn't want to talk to her. For once, it wasn't too bad here on his lonely beach. He headed for a picnic table and just sat on the top of it with his feet on one of the benches. As he ate, he looked at the woman. She knew that he was there, he thought – she had to, but she showed no sign of being aware of his scrutiny. She was a little lanky and he placed her age at about maybe forty at a stretch. He noted that her skin color was very dark, and a quick glimpse at her features told him that she had perhaps more Mesoamerican blood than maybe the average New Mexican with a Latin heritage. She looked something like an artist's conceptual drawing that he'd seen once of an Aztec family in a textbook when he was in school. Not that he was exactly an expert in such things, but the feeling that he got was that her people long ago had come from the middle of Mexico or maybe as far south as Honduras or maybe Nicaragua. She would have been called pretty in her younger day, but Cale knew better. To him, she carried a totally different kind of appeal – and he was in no mood overall for anyone's appeal, but Cale was the sort of person who looked to see faces from different cultures. He'd just always liked that. He tried to read people in an unobtrusive way if possible. It was a safe hobby on his island. Not that it mattered in the least at the moment, but to him, she was a totally different kind of beautiful woman. He thought that he could see what she might have looked like as a young woman, but it amazed him that her beauty now must have been something that she'd grown into or something. And she was tall at maybe 5 foot 8 or maybe 9 inches tall. It didn't fit the general type in his head, but then who said that his head was right and more often than his idiot heart? She was dressed in gear far more fitting to the biker sub-culture here than he was wearing, with chaps over tight black jeans, and wearing a black leather vest with what looked like faded colors on the back, but they were so old that he knew little of them and he sure didn't recognise them. What caught his eye was her hair. Jesus, he thought, it was long. Though it was tied in a long thick ponytail, it still reached just about to her slender ass. Cale didn't much care, but she was nice to look at in a wild sort of way. And then he recognized her. She worked at the motel that he was staying at. He'd caught glimpses of her working at different jobs there. He'd been looking at the dirt for a moment as he ate when it came to him and he thought that if anybody could give him directions back to his motel... He looked up and she was looking at him. "Very nice machina," she said, with a strong Spanish accent, a little around a small mouthful of hot dog and with a smile wrapped around all of that. She finished the last bite of the hot dog and began to walk over to him, looking at him a little curiously. "I know you," she said as a semi went past and blew tons of dust around in its wake. "I see you before, Senor." Cale shrugged, "I'm staying at a motel that I thought was around here, but I'm a little lost. I'm sure that I've seen you there, too." She smirked a little, "I spend too much time there, I think." She reached for the edges of his open jacket and opened them, looking at his T-shirt. It was just a white T-shirt of a beer advertisement back home. There was a large red maple leaf in the middle of it and only two words underneath that which read 'I am'. Her smile grew a little wider, "Tourista," she nodded, "You are in the wrong place to be wearing that shirt, my friend. This here is not the – best part of this area to be in. Some advice to you - do not be here at night. Comprende? You understand?" He nodded, "Thank you, uh, Senora." He suddenly felt as though he was a lot farther south than he was here. It was a strange sort of feeling to him, but it felt a little nice. "Could you please tell me how to get back to the motel?" She kept that small smile on, but she was looking at him with more of that curiosity of hers. "So polite," she smiled, "How long will you stay, if I can ask?" "I wanted to leave today," Cale said, "but I didn't feel like it, so I went for a ride – and left my map and GPS in my room. I don't know anymore. Maybe I'll leave tomorrow - " "Or the day after," she finished it for him, "Another piece of advice; do not stay too long, or you will be trapped. Stay another day at least, and I can get you a discount on the room. I seldom meet people who interest me." The way that she said it made him look back over their short conversation and he found that she seemed to be rather confident in a way that bordered on ... fearless, he thought. It looked really good on her. "What did you mean that I'd be trapped?" he asked her. She frowned a little, "This place is like a tar pit. You know what I mean by the word? It traps you. That is how I came to be here. I will lead you back if you wish. One moment, por favor," she said as she began to walk to a pack of parked motorcycles. The one that she stepped over to made his jaw drop a little. As a general guide, the way that their engines were made pointed to the relative age of a Harley. His was known as a 'blockhead'. Before that, they were called 'shovelheads' and hers was older than even that, being a 'panhead', though there was nothing about it which said that it was tired. Cale felt as though he was looking at something from out of the sixties as she threw her long leg over a wild-looking chopper and folded out the kickstarter pedal. That machine was older than most electric start Harleys and none of them had had kickstarters in a good long while. She pushed it through a little with the pedal slowly, feeling where the engine was in its cycle, and then she pulled herself up with the handlebars and kicked it through. The old beast lit off in one kick, and Cale had the distinct feeling that the machine knew better than to embarrass its owner by being stubborn. The way that it gleamed even though it wore its share of dead bugs and dust told him who likely did the wrenchwork required to keep it alive. She sat back then and pulled on her shorty helmet. A moment later, she rolled up beside his bike, waiting politely as he got his stuff together before they motored off together. Cale followed her, wondering if he'd just stepped back in time into the set of a really cheesy movie, but she smirked after a moment and broke the spell. Apparently, this was his adventure of the day, and he'd had none of that feeling for a while, just meeting the people that a bike would get you to meet. Cale still felt like shit, but riding with somebody got him out of the dumps just a little bit. She led him to a small little community that just seemed to jump up out of the dust as they came over a rise and he heard her gear down so he followed suit. He pulled up next to her as she shut her bike off, "Can you wait for me here for a moment, senor?" she asked rather politely and Cale nodded. "I will be no more than a minute. Please stay on your bike. If you get off here, it will require a lot of explanation on my part. I do not mind it, but I wish to save us time." He nodded and shut his ignition off. He was alone then – at least he felt alone. Everywhere that he looked, he saw faces looking back at him, and none of them looked very friendly. Cale had a feeling a little like having fallen off the map somehow onto another one, but on this gameboard, he was the wrong kind of game piece. Other than a few quiet words and smirks in his direction, no one moved. The woman came back out with a smile on her face as she said goodbye to an elderly woman. She was balancing eight tightly closed white paper bags in her arms as walked to her bike. Setting a few of them down on the saddle, she opened a saddlebag and began to put them inside very carefully. Aside from Cale, almost every other person there was Hispanic plainly – except for one man, a rather sallow-looking man who now began to walk over from a truck wearing Texas plates. A Man on an Island Ch. 03 "Whatcha got there, honey?" he grinned as he grabbed one of her buttocks with a loud slap and a hefty squeeze. Cale stiffened, his left boot already extending the kickstand to get off. The response was instant and the man reeled a little from the force of the slap that she left on his face with her free hand. He began to turn with a sour look, but he froze an instant later when he found himself looking at a pistol there in her hand, pointed at the ground next to her, though the threat was clear. Cale wasn't a completely innocent tourist, but he hadn't even seen her draw it. He was a little amazed, since it looked to him as though she'd pulled it out of the air. Her expression had changed completely and her voice had a hard edge to it. "¡Chinga tu madre, cabrón!" she hissed, "And mind your business, ah? You want some of what I bought, then you go get your own and don't bother other people who work for a living. Go back to sit in your pile of shit truck and mind your business all the way back home. Texas needs you. We don't. And I am not your honey," she said clearly looking as though she wanted to spit at him. It was a bit of a tense moment that Cale lacked the insight to really understand, but he could see that the man understood what was said to him quite well as he watched the veins stand out on that forehead. "All I asked was what you were carrying," the man aid, "Maybe I want to buy a little off you. Come on, Mamacita. Turn off some of that hate and -" Even out here in the open, everyone heard it as she pulled back the hammer on the pistol, "¿¡Quieres callarte la pinche boca!? Get in your fucking truck. How stupid are you? Tú me estás jodiendo. Hector!" she called to one individual and a man stepped forward to listen to what she said to him. Hector stepped a little closer to the now nervous-looking man and the man withdrew sullenly. "One day, baby," he sneered at her. She nodded with a bit of venom in her voice, "Touch me again when we are alone, Cabron. Te voy a meter una leche," she nodded. "Get the fuck back to where you came from." The gun vanished then and Cale could plainly see the woman's annoyance as she got her bike started. She looked disgusted that Cale had seen the exchange, and she nodded to him as she put her bike into gear. "Vamonos," she said and suggested with a motion of her head in the direction of the road. As he rode, Cale wondered what that had been about, but he needed her to show him the way back to the motel at least. When they got back, she opened her saddle bag and tossed him a couple of the bags, "I need at least one hand to get through the doors, my friend. Can you carry these three for me please?" Cale caught the first one before he'd really had an answer ready, but he saw two more in the air on their way to him, so he caught them and followed her through the doors and all the way back into the kitchens. "I'm really sorry that you had to see something as stupid as that," she said as she shook her head and offered her hand, "I didn't know that the asshole would be there or I wouldn't have led you there and I saw his truck after it was too late. My name's Maya Novarro, by the way." Cale's mouth fell open at the abrupt and complete absence of the accent that he'd been listening to, but he managed to shake her hand, "I'm Cale Taylor. What the hell just went on back there and where did your accent go? For that matter, your pistol. ..." She sighed, looking down, "It's a long, sad tale, my friend. Maybe I might get to tell some of it to you if you're half-interested sometime. For now," she tried to smile, "the name I gave you is real enough and legal, but it's not my birth name. Shit, a lot of people couldn't pronounce that, and actually, my first name is more than my name. That bastard back there has connections to some of the gangs in Texas. There's enough of it here as it is. It's a rather stupid and dangerous game that he plays. The one that I called? Hector? He's a cop. Half of those men are undercover cops. They want that shithead bad, but he hasn't tripped over his tongue yet. I just want him gone – him and all of his kind." She smirked a little, "I'm glad that you got your eyeballs back into your head. I've got a permit to carry the gun, if it makes you feel better." She washed out a carafe and poured some water into a coffee machine, "Hand me one of those bags?" Cale was still holding them with one arm and was a little surprised that he'd forgotten all about it. "What uh, ... He looked from one of the bags to her as he handed it over. Maya blinked and then laughed a little, "You think that – " She laughed then and he liked the sound as she resurrected the accent instantly, "Go ahead, hombre," she said in a sultry tone, "Sniff it." Cale lowered his nose and felt a little silly a moment later. Maya took the package and cut into the top with a pair of scissors as though what was inside was worth more than gold. "That little old lady back there buys GOOD coffee beans in small amounts from back home and then she does what her family has done forever. She roasts small batches of beans in her backyard by hand and grinds a little for me – by hand. You like coffee?" Cale opened his jacket and pointed to the logo on his shirt, "Uh-huh. See?" Maya laughed a little as she looked at the shirt again, "So that means that Canadians like to drink a lot of coffee, I guess." "Yeah, though the shirt is an ad for a kind of beer there. Now that I think about it, we probably like to drink a lot of beer too." "Show me somebody from someplace where they DON'T do that," she smirked. She excused herself and had a conversation in Spanish with a woman who'd come bustling in to get something and then she led Cale to a little table by the wall and set down two cups. "I'll tell you a few things to put your tourista mind at ease," she said, "I work here – a lot. I have to because I run this place." As they drank the best coffee that Cale had ever had in his life, they just chatted about bikes and riding, but there were moments where he got the briefest glimpses of a rather sad life, to his way of looking at it. He wasn't really aware of it, but Maya got similar glimpses of his as he spoke, though he hadn't really intended to tell anyone much of himself. The pieces just came out. "That old bike is a little like a rolling shrine to me," she said, "and I care for it better than I care for myself. It's all that I have left of my husband." She smiled a little, "I've had it for a lot longer than he ever did, but I met him through it and he took me places and - ," she laughed, "Now that I think about it, the damn thing was there when he took my virginity, so it's a part of me, I guess." "Around here," she said a little later, "they call me 'La Viuda' – the widow. I wasn't born here, though I'm naturalised. I'm a Tz'utujil. It's an old name for my people from Guatamala, one of the Mayan groups, they say. It makes me think that I'm more of a museum exhibit than a person. I came here as a kid with my family, but I think of myself more as a ghost, since I'm about the only one left. "But your accent ..." Cale said. Maya shrugged, "It's kind of expected of me. People can meet a person from Mexico who looks very American, so they almost expect to be able to converse in English right away. But I don't fit a lot of those expectations. If I stand behind the front desk with my blazer on speaking this way, it buys me nothing but high expectations – especially from the women for some reason that I've never figured out. But with the same blazer on and talking like I just crawled over the fence, then it's easier to charm most of the serious customers – even the ones who talk down to me, and again. I don't know why that is." She looked over at him and her face turned hard, "An if I gotta deal with the hard cases, it don' do me no good to sound like I'm the one with the bizness courses, ju know?" The accent disappeared again as she continued, "Better I'm in their face even before I say hello. My husband was a gringo, but he could speak Spanish really well. He ran with a bad crowd and he died for it." She looked away for a moment before she turned back to him, "I was pregnant then and I raised my son alone. I was a dutiful daughter and niece. I had a little baby boy and I went to college for business administration. Now they're mostly gone and I'm still here. There aren't a lot of opportunities around here for somebody like me." She had another of her silent moments and she finally just said, "But it was all for nothing. I had to work at my uncle's business here and his health was failing him then. With me trying to be everywhere at once, my son Pedro was an easy mark for the gangs and he ran with them like his cousins. I think the only times that I saw much of him from when he was sixteen on was when I'd go to get him out of the police station. When he was eighteen, he came to me scared to death because he owed so much to the ones who used him. That's really the business that they're in. They had my man and then they took my son. If those cops weren't there, I wouldn't have kept my gun down. I'd have had it in that asshole's face and to me, it's about a coin's toss either way whether I'd have pulled on him. One thought about my Pedro and I probably would have blown him away. Nobody would have seen a thing, but they'd probably help me to make a hole in the dirt to hide what was left. Slime like him are all the same and they feed on young people. I scraped together every penny and I even took out a loan myself. I sat Pedro down and I told him that this was the only chance that I could give to him, so he should use the money to get himself as far out as he could." Cale saw the tear then, but it was gone in an instant when she wiped her eye as she looked down. "He took the money and bought drugs with it. They found him eventually and then I had another man in my life to bury. I was eighteen when I had him. I wasn't even thirty-eight when I buried the pieces of my son that they'd left me. If I had to do it all over again, I'd have saved his life by not giving him one." She stood up then and walked to the bar through a hallway and came back with a bottle and a couple of glasses. As she set them down, she poured them each more coffee. Cale watched her with a little curiosity. As she sat down again, she smiled as she leaned forward to place her hand on his arm, "I'm going to tell you something that you probably already know. You and me, we're broken. I saw it in you from a mile off while I was looking at your bike. I'm broken too, Cale. I'm trapped here, running a motel that does more business on Thursday, Friday and Saturday afternoons as a place where people come when they want to fuck with somebody who doesn't belong to them. I've got four big-assed washers and dryers, and near the end of the week, man, they never stop because I don't believe in offering people like you who come in off the road anything less than a bed clean enough for me to want to sleep in myself. But I need the business of the afternoon crowd all the same. Now, I'll tell you what I want from you, Cale," she said as she sipped her whiskey, "You've only told me a little, but now I want to hear what the fuck you're running from. It takes one to know one, and brother, you're just as much of a ghost as I am." It took a while, but she got it out of him. "You know," she said, "the way that you talk about it, I can see that where you're from, people are a little different. Around here or back where I come from, something like that could turn into a bloody mess. People die over shit like that sometimes. It has nothing to do with who your girl was cheating with. I see that it bothers you, though, and I think that it would be worse back home." He told her far more than he'd have ever imagined that he'd tell anyone, but as she said, he must need to say it since something like that helps the soul in a way. "I can't think of why anybody would want to cheat on somebody like you, but that doesn't change the fact that it happened. I just can't see why, but that's me, I guess," she said. Cale pulled his notebook out of his pocket and explained what the exercise had been about. Maya looked and sat back, "So, what you think that you see is that you love somebody, and at some point they cheat on you. Then you forgive them, but they do it again. So based on the pattern here, you're sure that no matter what she says, if you get back together with her, it'll happen again?" He nodded, "Yeah, everybody else has. I just don't want to go through it again. I uh ..." He looked down for a moment, "I really put a lot of myself into it this time. I know that my conclusion might not be an absolutely solid thing, but I don't want to know anymore." "You show me somebody who's really in love and doesn't put a lot into it as far as they're concerned," she said, "We all do that. I don't know about your life, but I know mine very well. I don't need to make a list. The only one who didn't cheat on me is dead. Everybody else – every single one, if they did it once, they do it again. So she's sorry?" Cale nodded and walked out to get his phone. After Maya had read through all of the messages, she looked at him. "So, are you done with this one?" He thought about it and nodded, "I don't want anyone now." "Oh no," Maya smiled a little sadly, "It's not that easy. Very few of us can actually do that. It's what we are, Cale. Somewhere inside all of us, humans have more unending hope than a dog who sits and watches her master eat, always hoping and never giving up on the desire to be given just a little scrap, because to her, it's more than food. It's a little love too. Have you told her that you don't want to do this anymore?" "No," he said, a little surprised to himself that he hadn't," I was a little blitzed then. I don't usually drink very much at all and I didn't trust myself, I guess. I didn't think this morning. I should have done that then." "Well, you're not blitzed now - yet," Maya said, "So what are you going to do? She deserves an answer." In a few seconds, Maya composed a reply and held the phone out to him, "I'm not trying to make a painful thing to think about even harder," she said, "but I think that you're at some sort of point here and she deserves to know. You either turn back or go on over the next hill." He took the phone and read what she'd typed, "Pls leave me alone. Sorry 4 everything. Pls stop texting. Goodbye." "Before you do anything one way or the other," Maya said quietly, "That's another person at the other end. Unless you tell her that you're coming back and all is forgiven, she'll be hurt, just like you are. I'm not telling you what to do; I just want you to know that it's unavoidable. Press the 'send' button and you'll have to block her number unless you want more drama, and then you'll have your peace, as painful and lonely as it will be. But you have to know that you'll hurt her and it looks like she's doing a pretty good job of hurting herself for what she's done. I'm not saying that she'll never do it again – I'm not saying that she will either. She's hurting now. People forget in time. I've never messed around on anybody," Maya said, "but speaking as a woman, unless she's the kind who uses and doesn't give a shit, then I'm sure that she's probably cried a quart or two of tears for every message that she's sent." "I don't want to hurt Emma," he said sadly, "but I want to stop hurting too, and there's only one way for that as well. I really ought to call her and tell her, but I'd likely just agree to come back. – and I can't. I know that I'd want to trust her, but..." "I know," she said, almost in a whisper, "It's been almost five years since I even tried to be with somebody. You're not the only one who's been fucked around on. I was in the middle of everything with Pedro and trying to find him when I found out what everybody knew but me." She got up to go to the bathroom, "I've cried tears of pain, and helpless rage, and hopeless sorrow many, many times, Cale. That was the first time that I cried all three kinds at once. The next time was after I'd forgiven my boyfriend and he did it again. Now I'm just like a ghost. I see everything around me, but I know that it's not for me." When she came back, Cale was there, the phone was open on the table and the display had gone dark. Maya picked it up and through the dim display, she saw the words, "Call ended". "I called," he said sadly, "She must be at work, so I left a message and then I blocked the number." They talked for a long while after that, with Maya throwing their simple dinner together as though it was all leftovers though it wasn't, and yet, Cale was amazed at how good it tasted, and she'd done it while managing the whole place; from dealing with the everyday obstacles of running an establishment like this to coaching one of the waitresses on the best way to handle an obnoxious customer. At one point, Cale said that he wanted to pay for another night, but Maya shook her head and picked up the new bottle that they'd begun sometime not long after they'd finished eating. "No, mi amigo," she smiled a little, "This is for us both." She took his hand and led him to the doorway before she pressed him up against the frame gently and put her arm around his neck, still holding onto the bottle by the neck in the other hand. Cale wasn't even surprised when she said, "If you hadn't made your call, there's no way that we'd be standing here like this. I don't fool with another woman's man. But I think that you're back to being free now – and all that it means is that you're as cold and lonely as I am; every bit as empty, too. Welcome back to nothing." He put his arms around Maya and they leaned on each other for a little while in silence. "Again," he sighed and he felt her smile against his cheek as she whispered, "Again." Maya said it because she knew how it felt and Cale knew that she was in the same place. "The way that I see it," Maya whispered to him after she'd stolen a soft kiss for a moment, "We are two broken people and there is no one for either of us. All that there is, my friend, are a very few more chances – less every day as time goes by. You and me, we try when we can, but I'm not much different than you. I just haven't made a notebook out of my failures as you did, that's all. The world is a busy place, full of important people doing important things. I hope they all don't mind it too much if a pair of forgotten ghosts try to give each other a little comfort. I'm really hoping that you'd like to make love with me tonight, my friend. It hasn't happened for me in such a long while, but I think that I remember what to do." -------------------------- In the darkness of her room, they undressed each other slowly. This was about need, but not particularly about lust. They didn't speak for a long time, not wanting to break the silence as they stood there holding on to each other. Maya eventually asked him to sit and she stood before him for a moment. "I think that you can see well in the dark," she said softly as she began to undo her long hair, "so I wish for you to know that I am not a young girl." Cale nodded, "I don't need a young girl for anything," he said, "I need to feel you. I'm not alone when you touch me and right now, I see a woman, ... " He stopped, "I want to say something here that I feel, but I'm afraid that you'll misinterpret –" "Say it," Maya nodded, "You don't need to hold something back. Not here. Not with me, Cale." He spoke again with a sigh leading his words. "I've never seen somebody with the kind of beauty that you have. I don't even feel like we're here. I feel like we're someplace else." A Man on an Island Ch. 03 Maya sank to her knees in front of him as she looked up and reached for him. "I think that I understand. Wherever we are, I only want to be with you there. And thank you. I know what you meant to say." Cale had been hard for a while by then and she held it gently and kissed it softly for a moment or two before she began. Cale was surprised at how gentle and soft she was at this, and yet he responded to the slightest thing that she did. When it hit him a minute later, she sat staring at Maya in a lot of wonder as he looked at her face by the small amount of light which came in through the window curtains from the lot lights outside. Her eyes were closed about as often as they were open, and he suddenly knew that she was making love to him for them both, needing this as much as she was giving to him and her very dark brown eyes told him many tales over the time. She never sped up very much; she just loved him and the depth of it blew him away. Nobody had ever come even close to this, and the sensations that she gave to him were only the surface and the means with which to say it. At one point something rose in him and it wasn't his seed, though that was on the way. He touched her head and caressed her cheeks and ears and to his surprise, she understood. She stopped, holding him in her mouth to suck gently as her tongue worked the underside of his tip. He bent forward to kiss her head, "Thank you, Maya," he whispered. Her eyes never left him, but he saw her tears well up and she held him as she opened her mouth and sat back a little. "Wherever we are here Cale," she whispered, "I have no one, but in this place, ... I have you and so I want the love of the man that I have." Cale smiled and whispered back, "Wherever this is, Maya, I have you and. ... I feel a little like a king that I do." She went back to it and he came a few minutes later. Cale didn't say anything because he knew that he wouldn't need to. He only released it and didn't try to hold it back. It wasn't anything dramatic and he made no sound other than a long sigh. Maya swallowed in her quiet joy to know that she'd pleased him. Cale didn't know it, but the quiet way of this was just what Maya had wanted most of all. When they were together on the bed, Cale made love to her with his mouth and listened to her soft and gentle noises, and to him, it was really special. Maya gasped so quietly and barely whimpered as her passion mounted, and when she came, her cry sounded a lot closer to the sounds of an infant stirring in its crib, and for some reason, it said more to Cale than anything else could have. He realised a lot of things as they loved that night. Maya's statement at the outset of this about her not being a young girl had not been said as though she was apologizing for her body. There wasn't anything to feel badly about. She was incredible to Cale and he let her know it. It had been Maya's quiet statement of pride and as he took a moment to think about it, it spoke volumes and her body had nothing to do with it. Their lovemaking was like that for the rest of the night, but there was nothing dull or ordinary about it. When she was on her back, they looked at each other and to him, it seemed as though she was regarding him an a sort of appraising way as she touched him and ran her hands over him for a time. Cale loved to watch her throat and the way that Maya seemed to be able to gasp so quietly every time that he thrust made him want to do this forever. At one point, they both stopped suddenly as they looked at each other. Maya had been crying a tiny little bit, but when Cale noticed it, he stopped and stared. Maya shook her head as if to say that it was nothing, but he knew that if that were correct, then she'd have said it. But she didn't, and he suddenly knew that she couldn't – not without bursting into tears. She only looked at him and saw that he had a tear in his eye then. She pulled him down onto herself and she wrapped her legs around him tightly, leaving herself just enough room to rock her hips so that he might get the message that she didn't want him to stop and he didn't. But they both found themselves weeping then. Maya rocked him and he thrust into her slowly again and again. They thought that the moment had passed and so he lifted himself a little to look at her again, treasuring the woman that he saw. They both gasped with every stroke then and she reached up to wipe his tears away as they both sobbed and it was the end for both of them then. Maya held him tightly once more and wouldn't let go for anything and the pair fucked on as they cried a little, and they came very close together, both of them gasping and trying not to cry anymore. Cale lifted his head afterward and moving a little, he touched her face gently, because he had to. It was something that Maya wouldn't normally have allowed, but she did for him and from him, it meant something to her. He tried to lighten things a little by smiling as he asked her if she had any Kleenex handy, but he hadn't softened completely yet and Maya surprised him again when she shook her head as though she was a little angry and said, "Fuck the Klennex, and fuck me too, Cale – for as long as you can." He went back to it, understanding her and she looked up and caressed his face then, "Nobody has ever done me like that, Cale. Nobody." She bucked her hips gently, mindful that she'd likely be losing him any moment when he finally softened enough. "From the first time, all that I've had was hard. 'Come here, Chica, and let me fuck you.' That's all that I've ever heard. I wasn't asking you to make love to me tonight so much as I was really hoping that you wouldn't just need me for a fuck to make some bullshit male pride feel a little better. Wherever this is – where we are here – not in the bedroom of a woman who runs a motel, but somewhere else, please dear GOD, don't let this end yet." When he did slip out of her, they didn't move for a long time, and they didn't speak – they only looked and neither of them became self-conscious, more to Maya's surprise than Cale's. When he got off and lay down beside her, Maya turned herself around and went for his balls with her mouth, making love to him all over again. She said nothing, but Cale knew what her hope was and he guided her legs apart and they moved together in an embrace that both of them wanted as he buried his face between her long thighs. Afterwards, Maya crawled up the bed overtop of Cale on her way back, wanting to be in his arms. But he smiled, and asked her to go a little farther so she did out of curiosity then. When he told her to stop, she saw that her breasts were above his face and he began to kiss them so well, but that hadn't been the thing, she learned. As she lowered her breasts to him a little, she felt his fingers as they teased and caressed her loins in the sweetest way. His attentions weren't focused on her opening so much as they were on everything in the neighborhood, so to speak – just light little touches by a few fingers at once, both hands. Sometimes, he very gently tugged at her lips, but again – that was not the focus. His fingertips and hands went everywhere back there and it drove her to the sweetest distraction. She wanted to frig herself. She ached to be fucked again. Sometimes for a few moments, all that she really wanted to do was to lightly scratch the tickle that he'd left on her cheek back there. Maya had never felt anything like it. She wanted him to stop so that they could screw some more, but she didn't want the feeling to stop completely either. It was a hell of a conundrum. They made love until they couldn't anymore and as the sky lightened, Maya looked up at him in a very haunting sort of way. She smiled very softly as she caressed his face, "Maltyoox, Cale, xok aaq'a'," she whispered. His eyebrows rose and she sjghed, "I can speak several languages. That was Tz'utujiil, my mother tongue. I say it to you because I know where we are at last." Maya closed her eyes then and in moments Cale heard the shift in her soft breathing as Maya slept comfortably in the arms of a man from far away who lay on his side and held her against him, looking down at her as she slept. Cale stayed for a week and in that time, she needed their quiet way of making love often. Cale helped out wherever he could and he often felt himself being looked at and when he turned on the ladder where he was replacing a light fixture or something, he'd see her warm smile and then her little smirk. She led him all over the area on their bikes when she had a little time in the early afternoons and at least once every time, she'd lead him to a quiet place, out of the wind and warmed by the sun – some old deserted barn or the ruins of an old fort from the Civil War which held little history and was too far gone for the state to rebuild with little more than two low crumbling walls left. They'd park their bikes and she'd take his hand to pull him to a place where she'd spread out a blanket and those times, Maya wasn't quiet at all. She put everything that she had into breaking his back. Near the end, they had a couple of long talks and decided that their realities and the border between their countries was too much for them to surmount. Maya was tied to her family's business and they knew that Cale would have a long struggle to get a green card - and that was if it was even possible. There were tears when he left and she sat on her old Harley by the side of the road at the outskirts of town, wishing with all of her heart that she could keep riding and not have to watch as he rode away from her. Cale rode home, knowing that he was looking at a ton of changes and needing a job. Those were the simple things. If he's had his druthers, he'd have stayed with the woman whose dark eyes saw something in him which no one else ever had ,or if they had, it must not have been as important to them as it seemed to be to Maya. No matter what he did, Cale thought, there was no lasting happiness. The bitter irony was beyond his comprehension. ----------------------- Over the next while, Emma tried to find Cale, but it looked to her as though he'd just dropped off the planet somehow. She kept trying to contact him and even drove by his house trying to catch him at home, but she never managed it, day or night. All that she learned was that the locks had been changed when she'd thought to leave him a note on the kitchen table one time. Two months after he'd disappeared, Emma sat in her car out on the street in front of Cale's house in shock. The place was empty. A 'For Sale' sign had appeared on Cale's lawn. She called in at the realty office, but they refused to give her any information, citing client confidentiality. The broker shrugged and said that she didn't see what the big deal was, but she'd been told that it was important to the seller. Emma was about to make a trip to the land registry office, but she came to a couple of realizations instead; they'd been a little fucked–up, but they'd been happy. What had cost her so much was her one mistake and what she took as his insecurity not allowing him to find a way to giving her another chance. For the longest time, that would have been all that she'd have wanted. But after a while, she just had to accept that he was gone. She knew that she could have found fault with the way that he'd just vanished. She'd have wanted to see him once to hear the final notes of the song from his lips, but she guessed that to him, she was no longer worth the time. She took Arlene's offer and after Emma grew to feel a little better, they began a relationship as the love of the couple at the homestead faded and was as forgotten as the old buildings there. --------------- NOT The End A Man on an Island Ch. 04 A man (or a woman) has got to have friends. The holidays are coming and not that he's given it a thought exactly, Cale had no family near him as the festive season approaches. He's not exactly surrounded by friends either, since he's been busy. But he has a couple so ... 0_o Oh! There's no sex in this chapter. Sorry if it disappoints. --------------- Sylvia McDonnell was sweating slightly as she walked in the bright sunshine to her old barn. Once inside, it was a different kind of heat. Not like the glare of the sun on her shoulders so much, but even with everything opened up, the air here was a bit stifling. It was more of a humid warmth here. She was used to it, having been a horsewoman for almost all of her life. You just accepted it and got on with what you had to do. She paused to let her eyes adjust to the shade here and looked for her friend and occasional all-around handyman. She saw him near the top of a ten foot stepladder near some stalls. Today he was also her electrician, running in some new lights to replace the rusted-out ones that had been in the place forever. Sylvia admired him for a few seconds since he'd taken off his shirt in the heat hours ago. She knew he was around 43 since she'd have to think to remember when his birthday was exactly, but he sure didn't look his age. Damn... She began to laugh, "Hey Beefcake, I want to thank you for the thrill here, but it's lunchtime, Cale, and exactly where is yours?" Cale Taylor smiled a little shyly and mumbled something about not having time. Sylvia laughed, "That's what I thought. You don't have one, do you?" She saw him trying to line up a piece of conduit and set what she'd brought down on the bench nearby before climbing up his other ladder herself. Seeing that she intended to hold one end for him, he climbed the next step and swung his leg around the top of the stepladder before seating himself on the top of it. "Just lay that end on the nail there, and that'll be close enough for me to get the clips on." She followed his instructions, and he had two clips on in a few seconds. Sylvia climbed down, and Cale was down his ladder and onto the other one in a flash, and the section was up. "Hey, thanks, Sylvia." He grabbed for his shirt, but Sylvia just waved her finger at him, "Don't you dare put that back on now, Cale. When I thanked you for the thrill, I was trying to encourage you, you know." He grinned at his friend, "Well if you want to encourage me, then how about you take your shirt off too, Sylvia? We're in the middle of nowhere, and it is legal here for women to do that." "I don't think you're ready for that, Cale. Is that what you really want?" He stopped and gave her a slow smile, deciding to call her bluff, "Yeah, I do." He winked, "I'm sure Paul would understand. A hot day, sunshine, nobody around... Hell, if he was here, we'd BOTH encourage you, I'm sure of it," he laughed. She laughed along, "I'm sure he would, too. You guys are impossible. Come on, let's eat, before the testosterone around here gets to me." They walked out carrying the cooler and the bags that she'd brought and sat down under a nearby tree before digging into the Chinese food. He looked at it thoughtfully, "How the heck did you get it here so hot?" Sylvia laughed, "There's this thing, one of the new technological marvels of the age, Cale. I think it's called a microwave oven, you twit. The food was getting cold by the time I got back from town and I reheated it." They decided that he ought to call it a day, since he had some things to do himself later at his home, and this job was almost ready to wire. He intended to get the rest of the materials in another day and finish this up then. She handed him a vodka cooler and he grinned, "This is starting to look like almost a seduction attempt to me, Sylvia." She laughed, "It kind of does, doesn't it? Don't worry Cale. You're safe from my clutches. But you know, I've wanted to ask you about something for a while, and we're friends, so if it's not too personal, what happened to that girl you were seeing a while ago? From what I knew, everything was going great, and we'd started talking about severing the homestead lot. Then all I knew since then was that you left and came back, and everything had gone south on you. I knew that you wanted to buy the old place for the two of you as a surprise for her, and yet you still went through with the sale. You live there alone, and I don't mean to pry, but come on Cale, I care about you too much as a friend to see you living that hermit's life that you have there." Cale looked down, and then back at his friend, "The total of it in short form is that she made a mistake and I was an idiot about it, Sylvia. I was hurt, and I can't explain it too well, but I rode out to see my brother and I wasn't thinking clearly. I asked for some vacation, but my boss gave me a dozen reasons why it wasn't possible. He always said that every time that I asked. I hadn't had a vacation in eight years, and on top of the way that I felt, it was a little much that day, so I told him where to go. Then I saddled up and went there as well. I never got to my brother's place. I changed my mind and called anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. I found a little town that I'd never heard of and kept myself a little pleasantly drunk for about a week. I'd never done that before, but I guess it helped. When I left to ride home and begin the purchase of the lot from you, I was just feeling empty, so I accepted it and got down to work at changing my life. I didn't want anybody around me then, and I'm sure that I did a pretty good job of keeping the world out of my face. As miserable as I was, I met a beautiful woman there. I guess that we helped each other, since she's had a lot more sadness in her life than I've had. We keep in touch a little, but that's about it, since she can't leave there because of her commitments and I can't work there legally. I'm not exactly looking for anything these days, Syl. I've never been much of a lady's man, and my marriage was a total screw up years ago though that was more two kids playing grownup. I was alone for a long time after that. Then I met Emma and I haven't really tried after that. You catching the drift here? Even I don't have to be a rocket scientist to tell that Emma was my one last chance. I messed that up, and I doubt that I'll ever get another chance before I check out. You might not have noticed, but it gets harder the older you get. I just decided one day while I was shaving that I'm just not good at finding somebody to love, that's all. Everybody'd good at something, y'know?" Sylvia nodded, "Yeah, I guess everybody excels at something." Cale smirked, "Yeah well. I suck at that." "Yeah, I guess I can relate," Sylvia said, "though I want you to know that it seems like such a damned shame, Cale. You've always been a great guy for as long as I've known you, and everybody deserves to be happy. I just wish you the best, that's all." He smiled, "Who says that I'm not happy? I'm very ha-" "You're very full of shit, is what you are, Cale." she laughed, "but thanks for telling me." ------------------------ Cale walked into his kitchen a few weeks later and managed to work his way through the beginning of the ritual of getting some coffee started. The day before had gone long and after that there'd been his date with Bailey and he'd gotten in late. He filled the kettle and turned it on, and then he had to give his head a shake. He hadn't gone out with Bailey last night. He'd been out with Penny Polcz – that was it. He was a little amazed that he'd forget someone with a name like that. He'd liked her – and her name. He'd been out with Bailey on Tuesday evening. Cale sighed to himself. He was going to have to at least try to have a little chat with Sylvia. He thought the world of her and he loved her to death for her concern and her friendship, but she was feeding him introductions to the very many women that she knew at an alarming rate, and he was the sort of man who would have liked to meet someone – if he was looking to meet someone, one at a time – as old-fashioned and hare-brained as that idea might be. He played out a little scene on his head where he mixed up a set of names and ... well he knew that it was going to happen if Sylvia didn't let up a little. He was actually a little surprised that it hadn't already happened. He thought about it and wondered a little. Surely even Sylvia McDonnell couldn't know that many single women. What the hell was she doing, going through the phone book or something? Then he remembered the way that she'd taken the fight to a developer over his plans to fill in some wetland in the area. She'd set up a little terrarium and caught about a half-dozen Spring Peepers, and armed with them and the over thirty friends that she'd seemed to pull right out of the air, she'd hounded the regional conservation authority into doing their jobs, instead of rubber stamping the impact assessment evaluation. He shrugged to himself. The girl could obviously work miracles, so he decided that he shouldn't really be surprised at anything that she did. He heard the set of nails out there on the porch and he looked over. His big buddy was back, so he walked over and opened the door. The animal was pleased to see him and marched right in as though he owned the place. With the greetings out of the way, the animal padded straight over to where he knew that Cale kept the box of dog biscuits – the big-assed industrial kind, since those were quite obviously what were called for here and then he sat down, looking back over his shoulder at Cale. "You uh, ... you don't think this is a bit much or anything, do you?" he asked the dog with a grin, "The way that this is supposed to work is that you do some small thing for me like show me that you're willing to be my loyal friend and companion – and listen to me attentively in exchange for a biscuit now and then." He rubbed that great big head for a second, "That's the way that this is supposed to go – I'm pretty sure. Instead, you're training me to open the door and let you in to have a biscuit. About the only thing that you do is listen to me grumble, right?" He looked down and he could have sworn that he was seeing a look of agreement, so he shook his head and handed over a biscuit as he thought about the dates that he'd had recently. By himself, Cale would have struggled for years to meet even one woman of any sort. He began to count on his fingers and ended at six in the last three weeks. Six times he'd found himself squiring a lovely woman around for an evening, enjoying the fine company, and hell, even admiring them. He was more than a little certain that at least four of them showed him by their actions and mannerisms that they were more intelligent than he was – and he liked that. He thought about the other two and grinned since they'd just hidden it better, that was all. All of them were attractive to him, and at least three fell into his category of 'drop-dead' gorgeous. The kettle clicked off and he shook his head as he asked himself what was wrong with him. The truth was that he didn't really know. The other truth was that he wasn't wired for this. At some point during every date, he'd found himself looking at a wonderful person – well, he'd have given them the point, he guessed – as they tried to get to know him and he made half-hearted attempts in the other direction out of politeness. He felt as though he was doing something that he shouldn't have been doing and he couldn't understand that either. At so many times in his life he'd have been in Heaven to be able to date even one girl like the ones that he'd gone out with recently. Now, he seemed to be ambivalent and THAT thought scared him a little as he opened the jar of instant and was about to fish out a teaspoonful of the crystals from near the bottom as he thought about the next one of Sylvia's wiring jobs. It was a long process since he was doing it alone and in chunks that his friend could afford and he always tried hard to get her good prices on the cost of the materials, since he charged her nothing for the labor. She was his best friend and they'd known each other forever. He never said a thing to her, but sometimes he bore some of the material costs himself if he could and he saw that she was tight that month. Her husband's business was really starting to take off now and needed every nickle for the next couple of months. He gave up then and reached for the phone to check with the local supplier on what he'd ordered. Since nothing had arrived and after listening to a sort of barely-interested guy tell him that he wasn't sure when it would be there, Cale canceled his order and placed another call to the supplier that his employer used in the city most often. They knew him there and it was nothing to place a personal order on his Mastercard that he knew would be ready to pick up that afternoon if he really wanted it, though he knew that he wouldn't be in until Monday. At least they were interested in making as little money. He went back to making a cup of coffee and noticed that he couldn't smell anything in that almost empty jar, so he pulled the unopened one from the cupboard. Getting it open and the seal torn off, he lowered his nose and sniffed. Better, he supposed, but it still wasn't what he knew that he ought to be smelling. Cale looked at the shelf in the cupboard and he saw the almost empty white paper bag there. He reached up and took it down, unrolling the opened end and sticking his nose in to inhale. Though it was old, he had his answer to more than one thing in less than a second, and he very carefully spooned out the real ground coffee there as though it was the very last of his money. "Fuck the instant," he told the curious dog, "It's Saturday, right? I've got a little time today, so we're having real coffee – at least I am. You can't have any. It'll stunt your growth." Something that Cale really liked about the dog was the way that he had of looking at him a little comically. The look that Cake received made him laugh and he pulled up the barstool that he kept in the kitchen to sit with his elbow on the counter and his chin on his hand as he watched the second last pot of coffee that he'd ever get out of the white paper bag being made. The smell which filled the room almost made his stomach hurt, and he was a little sad at how his chest felt as well. That smell reminded him of someone and he knew what was wrong with him just as surely as he knew his own name. Any plans that he might have had for the day flew from Cale's mind for at least as long as this one pot of coffee lasted. About halfway through the drip, he got to his feet and walked upstairs to his desk to leaf through a few things and he came up with the address and the phone number. Putting it in his shirt pocket, he walked back down to the kitchen, and when he got there, he inhaled and laughed. He looked at the clock and then he subtracted two hours, deciding to wait. ---------------------------- Sylvia dropped the business end of her shovel and stared at her cousin, "Are you for real? I've always wondered about you, Katie. Now that I think about it, I've never seen you in a relationship our whole lives, but I just assumed that I must have been out of the loop. Look, I'll admit I haven't exactly been the belle of the ball, relationship-wise, but even I had a few lovers here and there before I met Paul. You're saying nobody? Nothing? Not ever?" They were mucking out stalls in the barn together. One in particular had received Kate's special attention, since she'd recently decided to take up riding again. She just hadn't found a horse that she wanted yet, but that was neither here nor there. Kate was shorter than her cousin, but had the same slightly curly golden locks, though she wore hers a lot shorter than Sylvia. Right now, those manes were tied back in the barn's dank heat. She shrugged, "Well as a teenager, my folks really discouraged me about boyfriends. I guess they wanted me to concentrate on my education. I got a few interesting passes from guys at university, but I guess the message had been drilled into me pretty good, and since I was there on my parent's dime, I just kept my nose to the grindstone. Once I started working, it was all about the career, and in my field, that's a lot like gladiatorial combat. You don't trust anybody as far as you can throw them, so how can you get into a relationship? I met some nice guys along the way and had my fun now and then, but there was always that critical deal to close or the franchise out in God knows where that needed my attention. A long relationship? Unless you count for less than a day, then no, never had a single one in my whole life." Kate sighed, "So now here I am, wondering what the hell I did it all for, Sylvia. I'm way past my prime for kids; I've never taken much time for myself, aside from the odd vacation. And yeah, you can be as amazed as you want, but I'm probably the only successful lonely girl out there, still wandering around the deserted dance floor wondering when she'll get her chance. The only trouble is that the dance ended and everybody went home - twenty years ago." Sylvia was still getting over her shock, "Well you'd better get a move on, hadn't you? Life is a one-time thing, you know, and you're still the same gorgeous girl, Katie." Kate shook her head a bit wistfully, "I haven't got a clue how to begin anymore, and to tell you the truth, I'm really afraid to fail. And anyway, whenever I remember to look - and I'm busy, remember? I don't much like what I see. Success just seems to be another word for spread, if you know what I mean." Sylvia laughed, "Oh, and you're picky too, is that it? Come on, let's get this smelly job over with." Half an hour later, Kate stood watching as Sylvia hauled out the last of the mess with the front end loader. She shut it down and walked back to the barn to turn off the lights over the stalls on the empty side. As her hand touched the switch that Cale had replaced for her, she had a thought and smiled. Back in the house after dinner, she handed her cousin a scrap of paper, "Here. When you get a chance, check out the gallery on this page. You'll find a folder called "The Homestead Shoot". Open that and check out the guy. He's a friend of mine and I know him well. The pictures were taken by his girlfriend - or ex-girlfriend now. It fell apart after half a year, and that was a year ago now." She noted the uncomfortable look on Kate's face, "Oh get a grip, Katie. He's a really great guy, and I know he's not with anybody now. You might feel like you're not up to speed dating-wise, but trust me, Cale's not either. He just lives alone. So go check it out, and call me if you're interested. And if you're not interested, then I'd say you might as well give it up now, because that means that you're already dead." --------------------- Kate went back to her incredibly busy existence and forgot about the slip of paper. She was in London to close a deal three months later when she found herself alone in her hotel room preparing for the next day's meetings. With everything in hand and a last check done, she was satisfied that this would be another winner for the multinational where she worked. But she felt no satisfaction this time. This was pretty much a slam-dunk for her, and she'd also been feeling a bit lonely again lately. She got herself some wine out of the little bar, and halfway into the first glass, she remembered Sylvia's words. Checking her purse, she couldn't find the piece of paper. She'd lost it and rolled her eyes. She gave a quick thought to calling her cousin, but gave it up because of the time difference. She thought back to their conversation as she slowly drank her wine and then turned in. A Man on an Island Ch. 04 ------------------ More time went by, and she found herself in her office in Toronto one day two months later. It happened to be a dress-down Friday at the beginning of December, and she'd worn jeans in contravention of the unstated policy that executives at her level just didn't take part. Well she'd gotten back early from California with another success story for her masters, so what the hell? What were they going to do, fire her? Not likely. The place was emptying out fairly quickly because of an approaching early winter storm. It was shaping up to be a rather hard winter – there had already been a few dumpings of snow even in November. Now it was the beginning of December and it was already cold and the forecasters had nothing good to say about the approaching system. She knew that if the prediction was accurate, there'd be a whole lot of no-shows the next day for the trip debriefing, and it would be a pain trying to get anything done. A look at her agenda showed her as amazingly clear for the next week or so, and she knew that her superiors would likely dream up some threat of impending doom that they needed her to quell. She decided to head off that nonsense and called her boss for some time away. She'd emailed him the debrief report and with no doom-ish threats in his mind, he told her to get some R&R, but to check in often. Kate left right after that. As she drove out of the underground parking, she thought about seeing Sylvia and headed north. Sitting at a traffic light just before she got on the highway, Kate knew that her phone was going to be a leash around her neck, so she pulled it out and turned it off. She felt better immediately. ---------------------------- A couple of hours later, the storm was beginning to show its teeth. Visibility was slowly getting worse, and though Kate had thought she knew the way to her cousin's home, things looked a whole lot different in white with a strong crosswind. She finally admitted to herself that she'd gotten lost and grabbed her phone to call for directions. When it came to life, Kate was a bit dismayed to see that it had trouble finding the network in these hills. She slowed even more when she saw a home set well back from the road. In between gusts of white flashing past her window, Kate noted that there was at least one light on and visible. She turned into the driveway and thought to ask for directions, but found that she had at least one more problem. She was stuck. The snow bank had been hard to see until the last second, and then she heard the soft sounds of deep soft snow under the floor pan of her car. She tried to back out, but found it hopeless. The all-wheel drive hadn't been designed for snow this deep. She sat looking at the house, what she could see of it anyway. Under the circumstances, it looked to be a lot warmer that what was outside her door at the moment. She tried again to get the car to back out, and then wondered if she ought to just walk up and try the bell. She felt a bit nervous about that, and kept trying to catch a cell signal. In the hour that she sat in her car, the snow was piling up around her. Eventually, it began to block the exhaust pipe. The car's computer noted the change at the oxygen sensor, and compensated as much as it could, but its firmware hadn't been set up to include the tailpipe getting covered, and so it leaned out the fuel mixture, but then the temperature rose, and it could only handle that by enriching the mixture again, making it worse. The result was that carbon monoxide began to work its way forward as the exhaust looked for other paths. Kate smelled the half-burnt fumes, suddenly had a headache to beat the band, and was thankful for these separate warnings. She knew that carbon monoxide by itself has no odor. She pushed hard to get her door open and got out, her mind made up. The wind bit into every small gap in her clothing that it could find, but her head began to clear at least. She noted that the drive was marked with small poles, and the way that the poles wandered a bit as opposed to being in a straight line. With the wind and snow chilling her now, she tried for a more direct path. The effort to keep her coat closed up was made worse since she hadn't taken any gloves along. The wind seemed to keep wanting to push her from her course, and in the whiteout conditions, she lost sight of the horizon from five feet away. Whenever the wind slowed enough for her to see, she was usually far from her chosen path to the door. The drifting snow made things worse as what often looked to be a smooth course hid a sudden drop in the ground and that made walking hard – especially in her fine leather boots – the ones made more for fashion than actually walking on anything other than smooth and level ground. After a few yards off the drive, she lost her footing and fell down, landing face first in the snow. As much of a shock as that was, she now found that she had a lot of difficulty in getting back to her feet. Kate sighed as she thought that it would be good to just rest where she was for a few moments to catch the breath that the wind was stealing from her every time that she lifted her head. She gave it up a minute later. ------------------- Cale had turned off the radio as soon as he'd left the beaten path and gotten off the main roads. He had no need of snarled traffic updates and listening to the ever-lengthening lists of which roads had been closed. It didn't matter now, and there had been no mention of the ones that he'd be taking anyway. Conditions were worsening, he knew, but he was set up as well as anyone who lived out here could be, he reasoned. Turning right onto the county road that would take him almost all the way home, he noted the small momentary increase in engine revs and the slight fishtail that told him that whatever lay under the inches of snow that he was traveling on, it would make him slow up a bit more. Well that was fine, he thought. That's why he had the shorter stick coming out of the floor under the dashboard. He reached down and eased up on the accelerator for a second as he selected the high range on the transfer case, and settled in to listening to the comforting whine of the four-wheel-drive to the rhythm of the wipers. He smiled to himself. A week's vacation and the holidays just over the hill. So he'd be hunkered down under the soft cold blanket that covered the landscape, he didn't care, and he'd gotten his groceries the evening before, anyway. Thirty-three minutes later, he was on the last lap as he turned onto the concession road that he lived on. He slowed as he approached his driveway. There was a half-covered car not far in. That was odd. He wondered about it as he pulled alongside. It was deserted, but he saw that the snow on the top of the hood was wetter. It couldn't have been there more than maybe an hour at the most, judging by the snow around it, and he doubted that it had been switched off for longer than thirty minutes. He looked ahead, and saw a line of footprints that the wind was doing its best to erase. Only one set, so whoever this was hadn't come back out - yet. The driveway curved around a hill and out of sight at this point. He'd had to lay it out that way when he'd had it put in. He could see his house, but not the last section of the drive. He pulled ahead slowly. He was a bit alarmed when he noticed that the footprints had left the clearly staked drive and cut the corner to head directly to the building. You sure couldn't see the reason for the curve, but it had not been put there for artistic reasons. There was a bit of a small marsh there. He quickly looked along the line of prints, and was mystified that there was nobody in sight. It was a bit hard to see clearly, but he was certain that whoever this visitor was, they hadn't reached the porch either. Then he saw a slight, dark bundle of leather rise out of the snow to stand uncertainly. His sense of alarm went up a notch as he noted that it was wavering in the stiff wind. He followed the road along to a point nearest the person before putting the truck into Park. He stared a second more, and then turned the heat on full and reached to the passenger door to unlock it. He grabbed his work gloves, opened his door and headed out, calling to the person. Kate knew this was now past bad news. She found her thoughts clouded and muddled. It was getting very difficult to think clearly at all, and her toes were screaming in pain to her. Her hands weren't quite so bad now, but they still burned. She thought she'd heard something, but in the wind, she'd thought that before. She looked to the house and didn't think she could make it the rest of the way. Someone was there, she could see them moving a bit, but they didn't seem to be making an effort to come out to her. She lost her footing and fell again. She didn't think she had much left to get up again with, and just thought to rest. Cale was almost to her when she fell the second time. The thought of going through the ice into the marsh came to him, but he was more worried about the stranger banging their head against the surface of the ice since in the middle he knew it to be frozen hard. This was either a small man or a woman. The style of the coat said female to him just as she began to fall again. He lunged, but missed. Kate had only a second to think about resting before her view of the world flew and spun. There was odd pressure under her armpits from her coat, and then something large had her and was lifting her up. The suddenness of the motion felt as though she was on an amusement ride that had shifted direction violently. She looked up and got a glimpse of a man's face. His beard was gathering snow as the flakes that hit him just stayed there, mostly. She found it difficult to speak, and the best that she could do was to mumble that she was just resting. Cale had a bit of a shock as he saw her face. She was lovely, so that meant that she had absolutely no business being in his arms. He tried to smile in as friendly a fashion as he could, but knew at the same time that right now, he could probably give his own mother a fright, if she were still among the living. "Not here, Ma'am" he said, doing his best to smile. "You can't rest here. Can you walk?" The question confused her, "Sure, - sure I-" and then she began to fall backwards. Cale caught her and lifted her up, "Maybe not," he said as he turned around and began to walk. He looked for the reeds that marked the edge of the marsh, and tried to follow his own footprints back out. The ice near the reeds would be thinner, he knew. Just as he got near the shore, he heard the ice crack and felt the beginnings of the sag. His next step got them a foot from the shore, but the ice gave up and he almost dropped her as he sunk to his calves. He tried to brace for the cold, but it took his breath away all the same. His exhalation came out as a hiss from between his teeth. Kate had no clue what was going on, but knew that she couldn't do much about it, whatever it was, so as he shifted her higher, she leaned her head against him. There seemed to be less wind there anyway. Cale reached the truck, and fumbled for a second to get the passenger door open. He yanked it open wide and struggled to get her into the seat. He didn't bother belting her in, but closed the door carefully and stumped around to the other side. When he'd gotten the driver side door closed, he gave in to saying some words acknowledging what his feet were telling him. He looked over to see her looking at him curiously in a dazed way. He shrugged, "Sorry for that." He reached over to try to get the dash vents on her side aimed at her a bit more. Sitting back, he looked at her again, and answered the question that he guessed she was about to vocalize, but he didn't feel like waiting for her to struggle it out. "We're going someplace warmer than this, if you can hang on." He wiped at the snow on his beard with his gloves, before pulling them off, yanking the selector into Drive and they drove to the doors of the shed within another minute. ---------------------------- Kate felt as though she were watching a television show as she looked at him fumble for the key to the shed padlock. He got it open, and then grabbed the snow shovel that had been leaning there to clear enough snow to be able to get the doors open before walking back to the truck and pulling forward into the building. He pulled the doors closed behind them, and walked to unlock the French doors that led into the old house. A huge dog came out to welcome him happily. After their meeting, he opened her door and she looked at him as he seemed to puzzle over what to say to her as the dog strained to get a better look at her around him. Cale shrugged and tried to do his best not to frighten her, "Look Ma'am, if it wasn't snowing like a bastard, and if we hadn't just gone through that little adventure back there, I'd like to assure you that I'd be doing my best to be charming and polite, but it's not a day for that, frankly, all things considered. So I'm going to be skipping a lot of social correctness here, and I'd ask for your indulgence." He looked at her curiously, "If you can even understand me, since you look like a human Popsicle. The way it is outside, nobody's going anywhere for a while. I'm going to try to get the place warmed up and then we'll figure out who you are and where you need to be, and I'll help with that if I can. I'm sorry, I know I look pretty rough, but I don't get many visitors here, and in the winter I let my beard grow some. I'm just trying to tell you that right now, we both need to get warm and dry in a hurry." He looked at her hands, "And those hands are going to really hurt very soon. My name's Cale, and this here is Rufus. I keep him around for comedy. He won't bite. If anything, he'll drive you nuts being an idiot. I trained him, so he gets that from me." He reached for her, and she recoiled slightly. Cale sighed, "I was just going to carry you into the house and put you in a chair by the woodstove since that will get heat sooner than anywhere else. I meant nothing by it. I won't hurt you, but I'm afraid that you'll fall down if you try to walk." Kate's feet felt like painful wood, she thought. "Ok," she said, and reached out for him slightly. He smiled and carefully picked her up. She looked a bit put out, but put her arms around his neck loosely as he carried her inside. He set her down in an overstuffed chair, and after closing the door, he grabbed what looked like a fur blanket. "I - I'm allergic t- to f-fur,' she said. He shrugged, "Then it's a good thing that this is from a department store, I guess. You're not allergic to department stores are you?" He couldn't imagine that there was such a thing as a woman who was allergic to one of them, though he supposed that it was possible. He looked at his dog, "Rufus, you might want to change your coat. I'd suggest that tweed smoking jacket of yours, buddy." The dog tilted his head at him. "Yeah," Cale said, "just trust me." She wasn't sure that she'd heard him correctly. "Y-ou just t-told your d-dog to put on a smoking jacket." "Well yeah," Cale sighed as he turned to Kate and indicated the red plaid work jacket that he wore, "I'm sure you can tell that I'm the only one here with any fashion sense. It won't make any difference anyway." He shook his head sadly, "He never listens to me." She smiled at him as he wrapped the fur around her before opening the woodstove to stir hopefully at the ashes while Rufus sniffed and fawned in front of her. Cale smiled as he found a couple of embers that still glowed and stuffed in a bit of newsprint followed by some kindling. Inside of a minute and a half, she heard the stove begin to roar softly. Cale disappeared, but came back with another blanket for her. Before Kate could protest, he had one of her boots off and was tugging at the other one. She still wasn't really with it, but she did manage to begin to sound indignant. He smiled at her, "Tough. I'm trying to get your feet warm. I did tell you that some niceties were going by the boards here. Don't worry; this is about as forward as I'm going to get. Now get your hands inside that blanket and rub them together for a minute. I think you'd prefer to keep owning all of your fingers and toes so we need to get some blood moving. Pardon me for this, ok?" She almost yelled as he began to rub her feet with his rough hands, but she settled down after a few seconds. Besides, she thought, it wasn't as though she'd had a lot of men line up to rub her feet so far, and he seemed concerned for her, though he was obviously trying to cover it with a bit of banter. After a few minutes, he pulled a sock over each foot. "Just go like this for a bit until I can get your boots warm and dry. I'm sorry about the socks, but I don't have your size in stock." "Thank you, um,.. I'm sorry, but I've forgotten your name." she said uncertainly. "Cale," he smiled, as she began to feel the first of some heat from the stove. "Ok, Cale, thank you for all this." He shook his head, "Like I said, never mind the niceties until we've warmed up some, at least. There'll be less teeth chatter, for one thing," He looked out the front window as the wind picked up even more, "It looks like it's going to be one of those 'saying' nights, Rufus." Kate looked at the way that the huge animal looked at Cale. She could almost see him nod, it was a little weird, but it was almost enough to make her want to laugh as she found herself waiting for him to agree. "What 'saying' nights?" Cale looked at her as though he was a little surprised that she'd heard his comment, but he smiled, "Sometime while I was a kid, I must have heard this line spoken. I have no idea who the actor was, and none about the movie either. But somewhere in it, I heard this line and I get to say it up here a lot when the weather turns to crap. It's not going to be a fit night out for man nor beast tonight." Kate laughed, "I've heard that line too!" She tilted her head a little quizzically, "I don't think I've ever heard it said with an accent like that, though. What the heck was that supposed to be?" Cale chuckled, "I've worked with all sorts of people in my line of work, and after a while I can hear the different ways that they speak in my head. When I was just starting out in my apprenticeship, I got thrown in with a bunch of men who had worked together for years – Scotsmen, Irishmen, Cockneys, a Jamaican, damn near everybody. Because of their past together, they understood each other implicitly. Me? It took me over a week to figure out the directions that they gave me to find the washroom. I could only understand this one guy from the Isle of Man, but he had such a dry and razor-sharp wit that I just knew that he as skinning me alive with his veiled insults but I couldn't say anything because I was too dumb and trusting to figure them out. Anyway we got to where we could say that we were sort of friends, and by then, I'd developed an ear and I understood them all. I thought that it had been a major accomplishment, but the Manx guy brought a friend of his over one day to meet me, and I couldn't understand a word. He had one of those voices that always sound as though he'd been screaming five minutes before, you know? The two of them laughed their asses off at how I must have looked. You can only say 'pardon me' so many times. It turned out that the guy had come from one of those little backwaters in the heart of Scotland, and his mother was Scottish – right from there, and his father was Irish, from where they have their thickest brogue. I try to say that line in my best imitation of that guy as I remember him." A Man on an Island Ch. 04 "Oh," Kate said a little thoughtfully, "I thought you were going for a phony Russian accent there." They looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Anyway, it's gonna be a shitty night out there," Cale said, "I've already turned up the propane furnace, but I want to get that stove damn near red hot if I can. The power out here isn't that reliable, I've found. There are too many trees overhanging the lines. With that wind, a rotten branch coming down, and that stove would be about it. It'll do the job just fine, but I'm not fond of cooking on it if I can avoid it, though I can also use my old camping stove out in the shed." he chuckled, "I've done it often enough." "Cale? Where's the bathroom? I've been in the car for hours, and ..." "Right through there if you think you can get there now," he pointed. "Sorry my place is a bit on the rustic side. It's an old farmhouse that I'm restoring some, but for now a lot of it has that Fred Flintstone charm even still. Oh, and be sure not to slide your feet on the flooring. I haven't gotten around to getting it sanded down and clear-coated yet, so splinters are a threat. The floor is cedar. Splinters from that can be awful." He watched her carefully as she stood up a bit uncertainly. "Hey, if you need to, don't be afraid to ask for some help getting there and back, and I'll walk away from the door." "No, I'll be fine I think." Her feet were complaining to her of their abuse in the snow, but they were coming back. Her hands were a different story, but she managed the deed, and stared at the bathroom sink. She opened the door, then put the plug into the drain, and filled the sink with warm water as she spoke to him, "I was driving up to visit with my cousin, but I got a bit lost. I saw your house, and thought that I could maybe get directions, But then I got stuck - " Cale dashed to the bathroom at her cry of pain. He found her holding her wet hands together, her eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she wrung a couple of her tears from them. She sobbed once, as he grabbed them to rub them lightly, "I should have warned you not to try that, I've done it once myself." Kate nodded, and gasped as he rubbed, "I know better than this myself. Oh, .... " After a minute where her hands were only throbbing, she looked at him, "My name is Kate by the way, and thanks for all of this. What now?" "The chair," he sighed as he pointed with a soft smile, "Back to the chair with you." She hung her head to go along with the joke, "Yes sir..." and trundled off. Before she could sit again, he took her coat and hung it up "Please Kate, I think you'll only need the blankets now. The stove will be hot enough in a minute to make you want to push your chair back pretty soon. Just take a break. I've got to split some wood for a minute. I can see we're going to use up a ton of what I've got stacked in the shed." Kate nodded and looked down suddenly as she felt some weight on her feet. Rufus was there looking up at her. His tongue hung out a bit, and he looked friendly and obviously was. She just hoped her allergies didn't switch on now. Kate watched as Cale closed the glass doors and walked toward a wood pile of sawn tree sections. He picked up a section and placed it standing on end on a large section of flat rock, and held a large steel wedge in one hand and the strangest heavy axe that she'd ever seen in the other as he appeared to be searching for, or reading something in the end of the wood. Satisfied, he placed the wedge and tapped it with the flat part at the back side of the axe. With the wedge standing up, he hit it a few times as the wedge was driven through the wood. He repeated this process until he had a pile of broken wood on either side. One time, the wedge went clear through the wood with one impact and rang when it hit the rock below. She saw the spark from where she sat. Cale stopped to examine the thin end before shrugging and getting back to it. He stopped to remove his work jacket. At this point, Kate realized with a shock that he hadn't even taken this off as he'd looked after her until now. She also noticed that his pants were wet along with his workboots. She shook her head. When he began again, he only used that axe now on what he'd already split, and the wood flew apart as he worked. She'd never seen anything like it. One swing, or at most two, and the halves were sailing through the air and he was often reaching for the next piece before they'd come to rest. If they didn't come apart cleanly, he just pulled them the rest of the way apart with his hands and tossed the pieces down. His flannel work shirt steamed in the cold air of the shed. When he'd finished, she turned to stare at the flames in the stove, and then his name hit her at last. This was the man who Sylvia had spoken of in the summer. Wow, she thought, trying to picture the men who she worked with doing this. That would have been funny. Kate wondered what Cale looked like under that beard. It suited him, but she was just curious. She reached down carefully to pet Rufus, but found him licking her hand before she could get there. He returned her look with a happy, yellow, and almost rakish gaze. Cale opened the door and brought in his coat to hang up next to hers on a hook. He went back out and began to stack the wood that he'd split, but brought in a large armful from elsewhere in the pile. "I've never seen an axe like that before or how quickly you knocked that wood apart." she said. Cale shrugged, "Just parlor tricks, if you know how. It's easier than bashing your brains out trying to get a few sticks to burn. That's not an axe, it's a splitting maul. I almost never use an axe to split wood unless it's like 25 below. The maul works by its weight and shape, it's more boat-shaped, and that forces the wood apart if you know how to see where the wood wants to be split. But when it's really cold, it works too well, and I've come close to putting a piece through that door there. Frozen wood splits easily with a regular axe then." He looked at Rufus and remembered something, "Oh buddy! I'm sorry, come on, Rufe." He walked to the front door and opened it up as the dog bounded past him, stopping to see if he'd follow. Cale shook his head, "No way I'm going out to play now. You just do your thing and come back quick, Rufus. And don't even think about looking up any of your girlfriends tonight." The dog looked at him with his head tilted, but wearing what must pass for a wide grin. "Yeah," Cale laughed, "Yeah, I'm on to you. You won't find any of them out there anyway. They're all hunkered down tonight. They've got way more sense than you. And no peeing on the porch, either!" Rufus looked contrite and trotted off to return momentarily. Cale handed Kate a dog biscuit, "Show him this and tell him to take it nicely, so you still have your hand afterward, though I'm kidding about that part. But just watch what he does with it when he gets it." Kate did as he instructed, and the dog's eyes lit up. He almost pulled his lips back to gently take the biscuit before sinking slowly to the floor. Rufus looked at the biscuit for a few moments, and then actually began to carefully nibble it. Kate looked at Cale, "I've never seen a dog do that. He could eat that in one bite." He smiled, "He could eat ten in one bite and they probably wouldn't even hit the sides on the way down. I didn't teach him that. I don't know where he was before, but he always appreciates any kind of treat if he gets one." "What kind of dog is he?" Kate asked, remembering the grin on Rufus. Cale shrugged as he shut the door, "He got his size and wiry coat from an Irish wolfhound for sure. The rest? Well, I've got a pretty good clue that it's the animal that they were originally bred to hunt. He showed up here when he was still a big puppy, obviously wild, but wanting my friendship. We get along pretty well, though if it were summer, he sure wouldn't want to be cooped up in here all day." Kate smiled, "Places to go, girlfriends to do?" Cale laughed a bit ruefully, "Something like that, I have no doubt." ------------------------- Cale excused himself to change into dry clothes and came back wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Kate found herself trying not to be obvious about it, but he just drew her eye wherever he went. He seemed to be made of more flat planes and angles than curves. Cale saw her glance at him several times, and wondered if there was something that she'd like. He felt more awkward than she did, he'd always been this way, but he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. He knew he looked rough, and if they were in this situation, he was worried that she'd be frightened of him. He glanced at her things and figured that to a woman like her, he must seem like something out of a horror film – the crazed cabin killer or some such nonsense. It was almost funny to Kate. He'd catch her looking at him, and would just raise his eyebrows a tiny amount as though he waited for her to ask for something; a blanket, a cup of tea or coffee, hot chocolate, something. Kate was no stranger to having men around her – it was that way all day long in her occupation. She'd never seen one like him though. She wondered about that for a few moments. Then it hit her. The executives and office lizards in her arena of work spent a lot of time and money purporting to be the successful male. This one did nothing of the sort. He knew what he was and that was the end of it. No advertising campaign needed. Then again, she thought, there was nobody looking other than her, but she did like what she was looking at. "Good to get those wet pants off," he said, as he placed his boots near Kate's a bit away from the stove. He turned to catch her look again, and she looked down. She hoped that he didn't ask if she wanted something. She was damned if she knew herself, right this second, though she almost smiled as the thought came to her that if he offered another foot rub... She pushed the thought aside as she noticed that he was quiet, and it came to her that this man was actually rather shy with her and had been forcing himself to speak. Kate looked at him, "You were running around all of this time in wet pants on a day like this. Thank you for everything, but ... hey, wouldn't it be my turn to rub your feet now?" He laughed, "My feet were only wet. Yours were something to worry about and not leave as they were. And no rubbing my feet. They were in those boots since before five this morning, and in work socks and insulated boots, that would probably constitute a biological hazard. Nice thought, though." he laughed. Kate smirked evilly at him, "I might have really just wanted an excuse to see if you're ticklish, I'm not saying it's so, but..." The wind moaned for a second and she looked out the window, "I don't think I've ever seen such a hostile day. I picked a good one to be stupid outside in." Cale smiled back at her, obviously pleased that she seemed to be feeling better. He didn't know her from anybody, but he'd been a bit worried. On a night like this, the hospital seemed as though it was in another country, and would likely be full of road accident victims anyway. Cale put the kettle on and got started with something hot. "It'll get rough out there later on, Kate. I've seen some nights when you couldn't see a foot in front of you because the wind just never lets up for a second. As odd as it might sound, I kind of like those nights. They make me appreciate what I have. This place is well over a century old. Now, I don't know what the original builder was thinking, but the whole ground floor is made out of squared logs a foot thick. That means that they must have had a great supply of trees thicker than that. The second floor wood is eight inches square. The place might not withstand a nuclear strike, but for anything else, I'm pretty much set." As they sipped, they looked out at the storm and the winter scene that was quickly disappearing in the evening gloom. "So where were you headed, Kate? Let's see if I can get you where you wanted to go." "My cousin has a place near here someplace," she said, "I've only been there once, and that was last summer. Well, I hope it's around here someplace. Maybe I've missed by miles, I don't know." "Well a name might help," Cale remarked dryly before smiling, "a name, an address, something more specific than 'my cousin'." Kate shrugged, "It doesn't matter all that much, Cale. I didn't call beforehand, so it's not as though she's waiting by the front door worried to death. She's not expecting me." They looked out as they heard a somewhat distant roar that was coming closer. After a few seconds, they saw the blue lights and the blowing white cloud that signaled the passing of a heavy road plow. Cale exhaled, "I knew that I could count on that guy. I don't get how he figures it out, but damn near every time that I'm about to go someplace, he comes by and plows me in." Indeed, Kate saw that there was now a good-sized wall blocking their access to the road that was perhaps nearly as tall as she stood. She turned to Cale, "I'm stuck here now, aren't I?" Cale sighed and nodded, "If I'd had a chance to clear the driveway before this, I'd say that you had a good chance before Pete the Plow Demon there showed up. But I'll have to plow out the drive to get to what he's donated just now. From what I see there, I'd be at it past midnight, but if you absolutely want or need to go, I'd do it. But it's still snowing, and the roads are still a mess, and your car is still stuck." "And I don't really know where I'm going, either," she shrugged, "I can't recognize any of the things that I saw on the road last summer." He looked at her, and she could see the sincerity on his face. "Kate, I don't know what I can say to you, but you're obviously very welcome to stay the night. I want to assure you that you're safe here. Well, maybe not from Rufus, since he seems to have taken a shine to you. I know I look like some crazy mountain man, but under this fine veneer of civility, I'm an electrician, which is close but not quite as bad." He shrugged, "I might not be a man of letters, but I know a few," he said beginning to count off the fingers of one hand, "A is for apple pie, B is for Boston cream, C is for cake, D is for donuts, and like that." "E," she said, "What about E? E for escargot?" He shook his head, "Never had any, so it's not on my list. Elderberry pie is, though. And by the way, why would you tell me - a strange guy that you don't know from Adam - that your cousin isn't expecting you?" Up until that moment, Kate wasn't really pleased at being unable to leave. First she felt nervous about it, before thinking that he didn't seem odd or anything. And he was obviously correct. She wasn't going anywhere, and she wouldn't ask the guy to work like a dog all night to get her on the road when there were no roads in any shape to get around on. The thought crossed her mind that her being able to leave had probably been a small contributing factor in her present "never have been" status. It was a bit uncomfortable like this, but she found him to be quite likeable and even charming in a way, and he'd been kind to her so far. The thought of staying held a tiny promise to maybe be a bit of an adventure in her same-same life. He'd even pointed out what she'd missed, and he was right. She shouldn't have made the statement, so that made up her mind to stay if she could, and not even tell him her cousin's name. In a moment that she really couldn't explain to herself, she decided to go with the adventure aspect. With Cale and his nutty dog, this felt a lot more like a snow-day at school. She smiled at Cale, "Don't you dare try to get all of that done tonight. Look, you're sitting here with a possibly whackjob woman who showed up uninvited by getting stuck in your driveway and then wandering around frozen stiff. I'm thankful that you did what you did, and so far, I don't think you're strange. If you can be a gentleman, and you have a place where I can sleep alone, I'd be happy to stay - as though I really have much choice." He smiled, "Ok, I think the best thing to do would be to set about making us some dinner. There are a couple of options, but for a night like this, and after what all we went through - and by the way, if you don't come down with a hell of a cold from that, I'd be amazed - I can think of only one proper meal that fits this circumstance in my own mind. It's what I like to eat on a night like this after dragging my half-dead body home from work through a blizzard. I just hope it suits your obviously sophisticated palette." She laughed a little, "Obviously sophisticated?" He shrugged, "Your coat on that peg there is worth at least a grand, and probably more like two grand. I don't even want to think about what those fine leather boots cost, and we have to find a safer place than the floor for them the way that Rufus keeps looking at them, and that's a maxed-out Cadillac CTS stuck out there in the snow, the first Caddy of any description to be in my driveway, stuck or not. So I'm obviously out of my league here, and wondering if my preference would be good enough." She found herself liking him and adopted a sniffy high-class posture and tone, though he could see that she had trouble holding it, "That depends, serf. It all depends upon what it is that you're offering for me to pass my sophisticated judgment on. I'd have to be the one to judge, since that's all we rich snots do, after all." She finished with a laugh at herself. "And hey, I might just be a rich bitch who's escaping from her boring banker husband for a wild weekend in the boonies." He shook his head with a smirk as he pointed, "No ring, and no ring imprint where the huge diamond would normally be worn as a badge, and you're not wearing pearls. That type almost always wears pearls." She thought for a moment, "Well then, I just might be a successful promoter out here scouting for talent." He tilted his head, "Not alone, and not in that car. And the Porsche wouldn't have made it this far anyway." "Well," she said, "How about if I were a woman who manages male strippers, and I'm still on the hunt for talent?" Cale looked at her, liking the game, "That's possible, but really unlikely. You'd never have to leave either Toronto or Montreal to do that. The hopefuls would come to you." He nodded, "I've seen the ads. Why did you mention that one?" He laughed, "Nice try, but I'm not looking for that kind of work." Kate sat in quiet thought for a bit and then raised her finger hopefully. "A high-priced call girl, lost on the way?" He looked down, shaking his head with a smile, "Now you're just trying to hurt me. And I have to tell you it's working." Kate sighed, "Alright, I'll fess up. I happen to be the madam of a really, really exclusive and expensive brothel, and I've gotten stuck in the snow, and now I can't believe my luck at finding you, how's that?" she asked him with a smile. His eyes got huge for a second, as they filled with love, "Then would you please marry me?" They laughed at each other until she launched herself out of the chair to bowl him over where he sat on the floor. He looked up in amazement as Kate leaned on his shoulders with an evil slow smile on her face, "Ok then. I'm really a demonic vampire who's going to love you to death - your death, just to be open about it - while I suck every last drop of your sweet blood out of you." Kate had no idea why she'd done it, but it was a lot of fun, and her hands seemed tiny on his shoulders like this. She felt herself shake from Cale's laughter, "Then you'd better get the order of that straight, succubus girl, Some parts of me need a lot of blood just to function for what you want." A Man on an Island Ch. 04 She sat back on his thighs just above his knees. He didn't seem to mind at all. "Oh crap," she said after heaving an exaggerated sigh, "All right, what are we eating then?" He smiled up at her softly, "Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches." Her mouth fell open in delight. She hadn't had that since she was a kid, but had never thought of making it for herself in all this time. She leaned over him again and he looked up at her through her long blonde hair as it tickled his nose. "Cream of tomato soup?" she asked hopefully. He rolled his eyes, "Of course." She smiled, "With pepper, right?" He nodded, "Naturally." Her eyes opened wider in childlike wonder, "And crackers, do you have any crackers?" "Oh please, asking me that is like questioning my loyalty to uh, ... um, wherever it is that I live here." She shook him, "Stop ducking the question! Crackers or no?" He chuckled, "As much as you want, Kate," he held up his hand in a boy scout salute, "Scout's honor." She looked a little desperate over a detail which came to her mind. "And lots and lots of ketchup, right?" "All you can fit on the plate. I wouldn't hold out on you. Especially for something as sacred as tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Come on, what do you take me for?" He heard the gasp and the small cry of joy that escaped her, and then she was hugging him tightly for a brief second. She raised herself to look down into his eyes with a slow smile, "You - and I don't mind saying it at all - are a mighty and wondrous god!" --------------------------------- They set about making their meal together since it would be more fun. There's obviously not much to it but a bit of time, but they traded small jokes and laughed about their situation. Cale reached over and lifted a large pot. He saw her puzzled look and just said, "You don't want to know what's in here. It's not pretty, but it's Rufe's dinner." He set it on a burner and cranked it to high, "These are just a couple of meaty soup bones. I just want to get them warmed up again. I boiled them for him last night, but I'm not going to give them to him cold. With you here he thinks this is some special occasion, so he'll get these tonight instead of the usual." Kate turned around, and saw Rufus lying in the corner. He was obviously expectant, but was on his best behavior. She laughed, and walked over to rub his big head. His toothy smile was instantly turned on. After things had gotten well underway, Cale paused to listen as a strong gust of wind hit the old house, "Hey, Kate? Can you keep an eye on things here for just a minute? I want to get some things from upstairs. I'll be right back." She agreed and he went up the stairs. Rufus looked after him curiously, "He's just gone to get something. Don't worry, Rufus, You're safe with me." His look at her made Kate laugh. As if he were the one in any danger from all five feet, nothing of her. He easily outweighed her. She suddenly had a thought that she just couldn't be in a better place in this storm than where she was and found that she was feeling pretty chipper for it. And so she began to dance in the kitchen. Rufus stared, and then got up to follow her movements, since he couldn't understand what she was doing. This delighted Kate, who began to twirl around just to see him watch her with his head tilted comically in confusion, and that caused Kate to dance even more. Cale came down the stairs to hear the sound of his dog's nails on the floor in the kitchen. He set the oil lamp down on a side table with the flashlight, and watched Kate dance. She stirred the soup with a flourish, flipped the sandwiches on the hot plate, and then lifted a couple of them to put them on the flat pan inside the oven to keep them warm. She was still dancing a little as she made two more and got them started on the hot plate before she lifted the lid of the pot of soup bones. She twirled and then checked the temperature of the water before turning down the burner. "We don't want you to burn your mouth, honey," she said to the dog before picking up the plates and bowls. She skittered to the table and had even set one down before she heard Cale's quiet laughter. Kate looked up at him in some embarrassment, but he began to clap, "That was incredible, Kate! I don't know how you can do that. There'd be at least one more doorway through the wall if I even tried that. And look at him," he pointed to the very happy dog, who still had no clue, but thought it was a great game. To her own surprise, his gentle laughter made her feel good, rather than just stupid, so she bowed, "I try," she said. She looked at the oil lamp, and Cale shrugged, "I'm getting that power outage feeling." "Could you please light that now, Cale? Would that be ok to do? I'd just like to see it lit." She beamed when he had it lit and he'd turned off the room lights, "Now that's perfect!" They got the bowls and plates filled and Rufus was no longer confused about anything. He was busy gnawing on his soup bones. "I always ask for the meatiest bones they have for him," Cale explained, "One of these days, I'm going to blow his mind by bringing him a whole haunch. I just haven't figured out how to cook it for him yet." Cale watched the look of absolute pleasure on Kate's face as she tasted the first mouthfuls of her dinner. She sat with her eyes closed sighing. Cale knew where she was coming from, but was certain that her face told the story better than his ever could. They were about halfway through dinner when the power went out. Kate sat with a spoonful of soup hovering near her mouth, "Please tell me that you can do the same thing with the stock market." Cale shook his head sadly There was a few minutes of silence between them, but neither one felt uncomfortable for it. They just heard the wind and sometimes the snow as it pelted the windows. But Kate saw that he was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable about something and touched his hand, "What, Cale?" "I just had a thought, that's all. I've had the power out here for as long as three days before. I can manage that with no trouble alone, but I've been trying to figure out a way to suggest to you that if you want a shower or bath, soon would be the time for it while there's still hot water in the tank if you're still feeling chilled at all. I just haven't got a way to say that - other than straight out like this. I just wanted to suggest it; I don't want you to think the wrong thing here. There's another way to get hot water, but it's more work than just hitting the button on my generator to run the water pump." Kate was surprised at a few things in his statement, and though she felt like laughing, she smiled and nodded, "Duly noted, thank you." After dinner, Kate noticed the glow from the inlet damper of the wood-stove and sat on the floor to watch in fascination. Cale saw her and brought her cushions and blankets from the couch and chair before turning the oil lamp down more to let her see the glow better. The flicker of the flames through the grate of the damper lit the room dimly and her face was cast in a warm glow. She smiled at him and patted the cushion next to her and he sat with her. Rufus had chewed better than his first pass on the bones, taking all of the meat off and had gotten well into going for the marrow. He stopped and looked at Kate for a second, before walking slowly to her to lie down with his back to her feet. She smiled at him and pet him, and then grinned when he groaned loudly. Cale was amazed, "Well I'd say that you've thoroughly charmed my friend. He never lets anyone get near him, mostly." She shrugged and smiled at him, "I'd say that you're a lot alike in that way. I have no way of knowing that, but it's what I sense from you both. I think I've been very lucky today. I don't imagine that you guys let anyone too close to you. I feel a little special to have gotten this close, sitting here with all this power and kindness." He wasn't certain that it had been his bullshit detector that he'd noticed, but Cale wondered what it had been that had gotten his attention just then. She caught Cale's look, "What?" He screwed his face up, "Power and kindness? What the heck does that mean?" "Well what would you call it, Cale?" she asked, "Try to look at it from my perspective. The men in my world are all about chest-beating. They need to loudly proclaim their greatness and masculinity by making sure that everyone knows what they've done, what they wear, what they drive and own. It's all just advertising, and like most advertising, it seeks to portray things as being better than they really are. You two don't make any noise at all. You don't proclaim anything, you don't wear symbols, you just quietly are you. To me, it's like a whole new male subspecies. You make the statement by saying nothing at all - I think that's refreshing. Rufus is a wild thing, mostly. He's not like a normal dog, he's here because he wants to be here. He doesn't need anything at all from me, yet he's made a couple of attempts today to warm my feet, and for nothing. He's lying there where it must be too hot for him in that fur coat because maybe he thinks I still need him to warm my feet. By the standards of how most people see dogs today, he's a beast. But I've already figured out that it's just how he's made - what he needs to survive alone if he has to. And you're the same as him." "You picked me up out there with the same effort as I'd imagine that you'd use to pick up a two pound bag of sugar. You took care of me just because you saw that I needed that - before you did anything about yourself. I saw you out in the cold shed busting apart wood in wet clothes with your shirt steaming - because we all needed that. I know you were just replacing the wood that we hadn't even burned yet, but might need for this storm. And for you it was nothing but what needed to be done. The men in my world would have been just as helpless as I was out there today; though they'd have made damn sure that any females around would be paying attention, just in case they did something right. And yeah, Cale, I was watching you. There was nothing in this about impressing the damsel in distress here. The only looks I got during all of that were from my buddy here." Cale looked over and tried to figure her out. "Damsel in distress?" he asked, "I don't know about that. This isn't the frozen tundra. You picked likely the only day that you might have gotten into a bit of trouble in, that's all. With respect, Kate, if you hadn't gotten a little windblown and stayed between the driveway markers, I think you'd have been ok. That's partly my fault and I'll try to mark it out better in the spring with signs. I didn't know you were watching me bust up firewood, but there wasn't anything to that other than trying to avoid the 'aw shit' moment when I realize that I've burned all the firewood and have only tree trunks that have to be sawn and split and they're not dried out. I only made that mistake once. You want to say I'm good at something, just leave it at woodstove management. There was a time when everybody had to know that stuff or freeze, that's all." Cale smiled at Rufus, "Maybe he just likes the way that you make him feel. He's the outgoing one. I uh, ... I keep to myself mostly. If my life depended upon impressing a woman, I'd be a dead man because I haven't got a clue." "But you do what needs to be done, Cale. It's pretty simple, and that's why I said that you guys are like a separate species. You're very ....." "Primitive?" he smirked, doing his best not to add 'oh please'. "No," she smirked right back at him, "not primitive. More like essential, or pure. That's about the best lousy way that I can say it. I'm here in wherever this is with the wind howling and moaning out there and no power. The world is a different place tonight from what people like me can live in, and this just happens, but city people never know it. So here I am with you, and all is right with the world. Even if I were here alone in this jeezly big solid house, I'd be pissing myself in fear. To you, it's just a shrug and a smile." Cale was listening but he'd also been thinking as he looked at Kate. He had a feeling that he knew what might happen here – or rather, what was possible. He was just trying to decide if it was what he wanted. The damndest thing to him was that he wasn't sure, but he knew that the more that he thought about it, the less he wanted that to happen. He found that he wasn't all that impressed with the way that she seemed to paint him as some kind-hearted forest god, a mighty he-man hewer of wood and all of that. It made him a little uncomfortable to listen to it. He thought that she sounded a little like a saleswoman herself and it turned him cold. She looked around at the thick beams of the building, "How did you come to be here? I can see that this place predates you..." Cale said, "I used to have a girlfriend.-" "I'd imagine that you've had a lot of girlfriends," Kate began, but stopped when she saw him shake his head. "Sorry. Go on, Cale." "No, only a very few. I just never felt like I really fit in. I got married young, and that didn't work out, so I lived alone. A few years ago, I met a photographer and we fell in love. She wanted to take some pictures of me, but needed a setting. I thought of this place and took her here. She fell in love with it. So we did the shoot and then we were together for a bit. I started doing what I needed to so that I could buy it for her. I never actually got a chance to tell her that. Anyway I broke that all apart because I'm stupid, or I can be. Or maybe it's that I just don't think sometimes. So I went down the road kicking a rock and came back here. The people who were going to sever the lot for me needed the money for their business. Since they're good friends to me and Rufus, I completed the sale, sold my house and came here. I didn't really know him then, but I'd come here every couple of days as I was thinking about living here and what needed to be done. I always saw Rufus hanging around and we just became pals. It's not much, but I like it and it's paid for. I'm not pining for my lost love, Kate. I'm just here and it's where I want to be. I'll tell you straight, I'm just a working guy." They sat in silence for awhile. She nudged him, and he looked at her, "What?" "Aren't you going to ask me to tell you my story?" "I figured that if you wanted to tell me, then you would." "Well I do now," she said with a laugh, "but there's not much to tell, and that's my own fault too. I was just always about my career, and I'm just so damn good at what I do that now I've had enough time to wonder about it and why it was so damned important to me in the first place. I've just never made the time for anybody in my life. I've never been married, and that's probably a good thing because my stupid job would have been more important at that time, and that would've broken any marriage apart. Other than the really rare one-night thing, I've never even had the time for a real relationship, and lately I'm seeing that it's a pretty hard judgement on me, and I did it to myself. I'm home alone most nights, working on business stuff even when I shouldn't be, always looking for an in, or an edge for my employer. About a third of the year, I'm all over the world, getting things done and managing their empire. I've been everywhere, and never stopped to think in terms of what it was costing me. Shit, I'm sure that I'm the only one in that company who does this crap and really doesn't have a life of their own. Sitting here with you guys, I'm seeing a lot of what I've been missing, or maybe might have had." She looked at him, "I've learned a lot of things today. I showed up in jeans even though dress-down Fridays are off the board at my level. I'm finding that I don't give a damn about that. I figure that I've earned that at the very least. I was only there today to prepare for a debrief meeting to go over my latest conquest for them. When I get back, I'm going to tell a few people that in the future, I'm not going to come in for crap like that. We can just teleconference like we do when I'm on the road. I want to be able to do that in my fuzzy PJs if I feel like it." She caught his expression. "What?" Cale was smiling, "I was just enjoying the visual." She smiled at him, thinking that she might like to let him see that while she was wearing a whole lot less, but not knowing if that would or could happen. "Anyway, more importantly, I've also learned that I've found a couple of great guys out here, and I'm having a better time than I've had on any rushed and hurried and cut-it-short-because-something's-come-up-and-we-need-you, Kate vacation. To you, this is just another stormy night, and you're fine with it, probably like you'd be fine with anything just short of the apocalypse. But to me, this is just wonderful. I can't get over it - tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches,.." She shook her head with a grin. "I'm here with two guys who can handle anything between them as long as one gets grilled cheese sandwiches, and the other gets a meat-covered soup bone to chew on. You guys are awesome. Don't ask me whose life is better between us Cale. You probably just see it as living. But I see it as living a whole lot better than I do." She sighed, "I'm trying not to think about it, but sooner or later, I'm going to have to turn on my phone and find out about the latest crisis that I have to handle. Don't cells work here?" "They don't work really well right here, but you can get a signal sometimes. That's one of my favorite things about living here. I live on a leash too, Kate, though not as bad as yours must be like. I haven't told anybody at work, but I can almost always get a signal if I head to the top of the hill behind here. But I make a point of never going there with my phone turned on anymore. I have a land line phone, but the number is unlisted, and I don't give out the number." He listened as she told him a little of what she did and he had a bit of a vision of her in a boardroom making an entrance with a laptop under her arm and yelling something along the lines of "Avast, ye corporate swabs!" It brought to mind the way that these sorts of things were done. One company ate another as the best way to remove its competition. Not long after that, the cuts would begin and a lot of people would be on the street. He thought back to the two times that it had happened to places that he'd worked when he was in industry. How good you were at your job meant nothing when someone like Kate passed judgement with the stroke of a pen from a thousand miles away. He hadn't been affected very much, other than the inconvenience of having to find another job, but he'd seen many regular hard-working folks whose lives were hard hit by it. Kate wondered what had happened or changed after that, because before she knew it, Cale had a bed made up for her on the couch, and after asking her if there was anything that she wanted, he told her that he was glad to have met her and that he'd help to get her on her way in the morning. As she blinked at him, he said goodnight to her and went upstairs to bed. Kate sat on the cushions on the floor looking into the flames that she saw in the stove as Rufus sat next to her and looked down at her. "I thought we were doing pretty well for a while there," she whispered to the dog as she reached to scratch his ear for him, "What did I say?" The next morning, Kate awoke to the smell of coffee being brewed and only Rufus there with her. She heard a roaring sound and walked to the large window. Cale was out there, and he had the driveway cleared almost all the way to her car using an old tractor with a shovel on the end of it. By the time that she'd made herself a cup of coffee and gotten halfway through it, he'd gotten her car pulled out. She wondered how he'd managed that, but then she guessed that she'd probably left the keys in the ignition. A Man on an Island Ch. 04 When he came inside and began to work up some breakfast, Kate asked him if there was anything wrong. He shook his head and apologized if he'd given her the wrong idea, "I got to thinking about my girlfriend. We're in the middle of a rough patch, but I guess I decided that even though we're at that seeing other people stage, I didn't want to complicate my life. I'd rather let that relationship go whichever way it's headed before I do something stupid. I'm pretty good at that. I guess that your cousin must be Sylvia McDonnell, right?" Kate nodded, wanting to leave just then. A simple phone call brought Sylvia to his door in her truck and Cale waved as they drove off, Kate following her cousin down the road. He smiled to himself and shook his head, but that caused him to look down and he saw Rufus looking up at him. "Don't give me that look," he said, "I know I lied to her. You might have been smitten there, Rufus, but this isn't the first time I've been around the block. That stuff about advertising? Same-same. Nice lady though," he nodded, "Just a little too much for me, that's all." They went inside and Cale was a little surprised to find that Rufus followed him wherever he went, as though he was waiting for an explanation or something. Cale poured himself another cup of coffee and he tousled the wiry fur on Rufus' head a little. "She's way out of my league, Rufus. There's just no way to explain it to you." Cale was reading one long email very slowly. It was maybe the tenth time, and he wanted more than anything to be able to come up with an idea – some sort of plan that might work. His phone rang and he answered it. It was Sylvia wondering about what had happened and trying not to pry at the same time. "Oh, nothing much, Sylvia," he said after a sip of his coffee, "I just decided that I wanted to keep it at not much, that's all. Kate's a lovely woman but I'm not in the market for corporate raiders as people that I'd like to spend much time with, on the whole. From what she told me, that's a big part of her job. She closes a place and it makes her look good because she removes the competition for fair marketshare. She never sees the people that she's messed up. I didn't say anything, but I just got really turned off. She's not upset or anything is she?" "No," Sylvia said, "I'd say that she's a little disappointed, more than anything. She told me that she really liked you. She's a lot like you are, you know." "I dunno, Syl," he said, "and anyway, I seriously doubt that I'd have been able to hold her interest for long. Her eyes almost glowed when she told me about how her last two takeovers were going to land her a fat bonus. All I saw were a lot of unemployed people in her eyes. Is she still there?" He heard his friend's sigh as she realized that Cale was right, "No, she left a few minutes ago. She's headed back to Toronto. Her cell found a tower long enough for her to get her messages and she said something about being offered a directorship." "Well, if I come up on any conversations that you might have with her, tell her that I wish her success in that, would you?" "That won't happen, Cale," Sylvia said, "I hardly ever see her. She'll probably be the CEO or whatever the next time I hear from her." ------------------- It wasn't until Cale let Rufus out for the last time before turning in that he realized what it was that had been bugging him for the past day. He let Rufus back in and they went upstairs. Rufus kept looking at him and it began to bother Cale a little. He turned on his computer and when it was done with its nonsense, he found himself staring at that one email, but he didn't get very far into reading it again when he noticed that Rufus was sitting on the floor right next to him, waiting. On a dog like Rufus, that meant that they were nearly eye to eye when Cale turned his head. He looked over and he rolled his eyes with a smile as he reached to scratch very lightly in the spot where the dog's foreleg met his body. Rufus had always loved this. But Cale was wrong this time. Rufus didn't want a scratch there, not this time. He raised that foreleg far more than he usually did and placed his huge paw on Cale's knee – something that Cale had worked long and hard to get him away from. He turned to scold Rufus for it gently but he saw the look in the dog's eyes and the way that he was stretching his head forward. When Cale leaned down just a little, Rufus licked his cheek and went back to looking seriously concerned. "Forget it, Rufus," Cale said as he tousled the wiry fur on the animal's head, "I learned a new concept, that's all. Advertising. I guess we can call it the art of it seeking to portray things as being better than they really are. How many women have you seen lost in a blizzard come walking into a house like this looking like that? Don't worry about it buddy," he smiled ,"the world of business runs on shit like that." Rufus seemed to accept that answer somehow and went to lie down. It wasn't until Cale headed off to the bathroom for a last pee stop before hitting the pillow that it hit him - and this time, he found that he couldn't just push the thought away. He looked at the man in the mirror there and he told him something. "People do what they've always done. What the fuck is your excuse? You're doing the very same thing, asshole." He walked to the bedroom and looked at the clock before walking back. Rufus walked over at the strange sound. "Nothin' Rufus," he smiled, "I'm just trimming the hedgework here before I get out my razor. I'm suddenly a little tired of looking like the captain of a fishing trawler in the North Atlantic." As he ran his hand over his clean-shaven face, he walked to the phone and placed a call. Sylvia picked up on the third ring. Cale apologized for the hour and she laughed at him, "It's not even ten yet. What's on your mind?" "I was wondering if you'd do me a huge favor," he said. -------------------------- Kate worked all night and was in her office long before the sun came up on Sunday. Whenever she sat back to mull things over for a moment, her eye kept being drawn to the phone on her desk. She finally transferred everything to the meeting table in her large office and that solved the problem. She'd gotten Cale's number from her cousin and she'd planned to call Cale half a dozen times, but every time, just as she was about to walk to her desk to sit down, another aspect of this thing came up and she was off again. She called a local restaurant for some take-out and drove off to get it. On her way beck, she thought about the ramifications of a take-over. There would be a good number of people on the staff at the target firm who would be downsized out the door from this, but that couldn't be helped. By the time that she got home, it was 1 AM, and she decided to call Cale in the morning. ------------------ Bright and early on Monday morning, Cale's phone rang. And rang. Finally the Kate hung up and got back to work prepping for her first meeting. Not all that far away down the concession road, Rufus lifted his head from where he was sleeping and looked into Sylvia McDonnell's eyes as they opened. She sat up and hugged Rufus as she looked at the clock. Her husband had already been at work for an hour by that time. "I think that your boss fibbed to me, Rufus," she grinned, "When he asked me to look after you, he told me that you didn't jump up into bed with people, but I guess that the warm spot that Paul left when he got up to go to work was just too much of a temptation for you, huh?" She laughed at what she took to be his toothy grin, "Come on, Rufus. It's all work for me today and you can follow me around if you want. Just keep your nose to yourself, or one of the cranky mares in the barn will kick you for your trouble." ----------------- The ball was rolling and Kate wasn't just watching it - she was driving it. Her report sailed higher and higher all day long among the corner offices and she'd chaired several hurried meetings on the best way to handle this before it was even one in the afternoon. It was unfortunate that her methodology in how to handle this flew out the window a little later on. By the early afternoon, Kate decided that she'd better get home to bed. She'd been running on the nervous energy of the rush that she could get from her job for the past few days and she knew that she'd have to crash sooner or later. But it was such a high when things worked out - as this one promised to. Her eye fell on the address of the target firm and she smirked. It was almost on her way home. That was how she came to be in the little corner restaurant a block away and over the hill. She'd driven by to get a look, not that it mattered much, and once there, she thought about the afternoon rush hour and decided on a meal out. The little family-run place looked kind of charming so, ... After a look at the menu, she thought that the man at the next table looked even more charming and there was something about him... She knew what it was a little later as he introduced himself and her jaw landed in her lap. He'd stepped out for a really late lunch and he liked the place and had known the owners for years. She found Paolo to be charming and pretty attractive as well as interested in her. Since he was the head of the firm that she was after for her directorship, she knew that she had better play this close to the chest. He was intent on playing it that way as well - as close to hers as he could, if he got the chance, he told himself. One thing led to another and the place was exchanged for a hotel room two hours later as she outlined what it was that she did for a living and how it might be a good time to make himself some heavy money by positioning his firm to be in place and receptive to the acquisition offer, since she told him that there would most certainly be one. He considered for a little while they ordered a bottle of wine and dinner from the kitchen, since they'd decided on a more intimate place to share their discussions. He was still considering while he phoned home and left a message for his wife that he was likely going to stay in the city for the night, since he was running so late and all. As they began the more personal part of their interaction, they were each focused on it far more than they should have been under the circumstances. To him, she was fascinating and lovely, energetic and interesting and there was something about her which he found a little familiar in a strange way. To her, he was handsome and very sophisticated in a rather interesting European sort of way. She liked everything about him - especially the way that he seemed to be leaning toward her idea of just telling the rest of the small board of directors at the firm that he'd set up a decade before that they stood little chance of resisting a take-over attempt if Kate's employers began to buy up their stock. Certainly some of those very same board members would sell for the right money, and then it would be all over but the crying, so the time might be right to get while the getting was silver-lined, as it were. There wouldn't have been this sort of possibility at all if he hadn't taken the firm into being traded publicly in the first place, but as he'd told his wife at the time, it was a way to draw investors - and their funds. He wasn't thinking about his wife at the moment, though he should have been for more than the obvious reasons. She wasn't thinking about his wife either, and it came as a huge shock when she found out that they knew each other. But that would come to them in a day or so. For now, they had each other in a slightly illicit and naughty way. Kate hoped that this worked out in a number of ways. She'd known that he was married by the ring that he wore, but she didn't particularly care. If she could land this, she thought that she might be able to land him as well on a more permanent basis - if he turned out to be as good in bed as he was in his advertising of it. She liked everything about him, even his name. Paolo Benelli. She thought he'd make a great personal acquisition if this played out the way that it was beginning to appear to be doing. Afterwards - days later, it came as a surprise to them both that they'd never met before. But his name hadn't rung the bell that it might have if she had any interest in her family. Other than one cousin, she didn't have much to do with any of them. The issue was, that she was now about to climb into bed with the husband of that same cousin - she just didn't know it yet. Hours and miles away, that cousin listened to the messages on her phone as she pulled off her muddy boots and threw a frozen entree into her microwave. She looked at the huge hound which was visiting with them for a few days with a frown, "It's just you and me tonight, Rufus. Paul's staying in the city tonight." She was about to add, "again", but suddenly sat down with a strange feeling in her breast. There had been times before when she'd known. The first time had been devastating to her. The second time it had only hurt and angered her. She supposed that she ought to be getting used to it and she almost smirked to herself as she hunted for a number in her purse. There wouldn't be a need after this time, but the only thing which would have made this a little handier was if she'd put the number of the investigation service on her speed-dial. They cost like blood, but they were better than good, and so far, her intuition hadn't let her down as she gave them the name of the hotel that her husband always used when he was staying in the city. The evening desk clerk thanked her and said that they had a two-person team available at the moment, so they'd get right on it. When she hung up a few minutes later, Sylvia pushed the upset away. This had been coming for a while, and she'd even warned him that she had a limit. If she was given the proof that the investigator's had gotten her twice before in no time flat it seemed, then she no longer wanted to be married to a man who was this stupid, and for the hundredth time, she was glad that she'd kept her name when she'd married him. -------------------------- In Santa Rosa, she pulled on her blazer as the sun neared the horizon. Delia had booked off early today and the woman sighed as she looked over the reservations register. A bunch of names, she thought. They were always just a bunch of names to her these days. God, she was just so fucking tired of this. Every day, every hour, just another mark going by, each one a bigger tick on the clock. She was looking down at one surname which had caught her eye. She saw the initial and though she knew that it wasn't the right one, the sight of it made her think back to the right one for a moment. She was still looking down when she heard the doors open and a man arrived, bustling up to the counter. He'd been talking all the way in through the doors and she wondered who he was prattling to since there was no one here but her today. "Honestly," the man said to nobody in particular in a rather nasal voice, "you people need to get yourselves a freaking airport. It ain't that short a haul from the airport in Vegas, you know. Just a regional field with a couple of them loud-assed turbo-props would be fine. I could put up with their noise if it would get me here a little quicker." He stopped then. "Are you even listening to me at all ... "he squinted at her name tag. "Miss Nervarra? I'd hope that you are, otherwise I'm afraid that the shit's going to be hitting the fan at an alarming rate around here." She drew a breath and let it out, trying to compose herself before something really good slipped out. "Good afternoon sir," she said automatically, "My name is pronounced Novarro. How may I help you today?" She kept her head down a little longer on purpose. She found that maybe just today, she was very short on patience for some of the asshole tourists who came in here as if they'd just discovered that morning that they owned the place or something. There was a short pause then and the voice began again, but without the nasal edge to it. "I was just wondering if you had any plans for Christmas this year, that's all, Maya. I thought I'd, ... you know, come on over and ask." Maya's head shot up and she stared for a moment before she began to smile softly, but that only lasted a second. After that, she seemed to crumble a little before she was over the counter and in Cale's arms and whimpering softly into his ear as she tried with no success at all to keep herself from crying. "Cale, you're nuts," she smiled as she wiped her face a minute later, "You are absolutely out of your mind. You came here to ask me that? You could have just asked me in an email." He shook his head, "Nope. I'd never have stood a chance like that. I got to thinking and I decided that I don't care. I just know what I want." "And that is. ..." she asked. "I wanted to see you again," he said, "I know that we couldn't figure out anything when we talked before I left. I spent time with you where you live, and ... well I was wondering of you'd like to spend Christmas with me where I live. Somewhere in there, we could talk some more." Maya looked at him searchingly for a moment, "Give me a minute." She reached for the phone and dialled a number and when the other party came on the line, Cale listened to one half of a rather animated and lively conversation in Spanish before Maya hung up with a purposeful smile, "I'm filling in for Delia, but my cousin will be right over to cover for me – and if that doesn't happen, I'll lock up and they can all try to figure out how to run the place without me." The doors flew open a minute later and Cale watched as Maya laid down the law to someone whom he could only assume to be the cousin in question for a minute before she led Cale to a room where he could park his bag. "Come on, Cale," she said, "I need a coffee in the worst way, so you must as well if all you have is the swill they sell you poor people up there as coffee. Down here, we know that stuff by a different name – washwater." She led him to the new coffee shop that had been a recent addition. As they sat at a table, Cale watched as Maya spent far more time playing with her coffee and looking uncomfortable than drinking it. "It's been a long while," she said finally, "I guess I'd like to know why now. Why are you here now?" Cale nodded, "When I got back, I bought the house that I live in now and sold my other one. The place needed so much help and for a long time, I needed every nickel to get what I absolutely needed to get done and finished before the winter. I didn't have much of a bank balance until last summer. Now, I've got enough for this and to offer to fly you up and back." Maya nodded and looked at her cup for a moment, "How many people would you say that you interact with at Christmas? I think the number of relations that I have to see must number nearly a hundred, for sure. I can't just leave, Cale." "You've got someone, don't you?" he asked. He knew the answer in the way that she paused. "Yes," she nodded finally, "I've started seeing Hector. You remember the cop?" She leaned forward, "I never heard a word from you, Cale. I didn't know that you were even thinking about me until I got your email a couple of months back, and even so, you never mentioned anything like this. Hector's a gentleman and after him asking me out about a thousand times, I gave up." "Do you love him?" he asked, and he got a roundabout sort of nod in reply, but Cale decided that he wouldn't press the point. Maya was right, after all. I feel terrible now," she said, "and you must feel – " A Man on an Island Ch. 05 *** I'm trying REALLY hard to have the timing of the next chapter up for Christmas. I hope I make it, or not far on either side. When I used to have the time for it, I liked to read over the holidays & if I couldn't get my mitts on anything else, due to lousy forward planning for example, I'd read The Hobbitt and LOTR again. Uh, that was LONG before they were what they've become to people now. But my faves then were romantic novels set in a rich time in history. This story isn't like that, but it does have its elements and more than one legend. So I have to get busy pounding out the next chapter, and if you choose to read this during a little quiet time over the holidays, then I really hope that you enjoy it. 0_o --------------- The thing about houses such as his was their solidness. The thickness of the beams and the age of the structure gave it such weight. The wood had been selected from what at the time had been first-growth forest cut with no need to think about economy since the land was to be cleared for crops anyway. The proportions of the lumber used to build the place would be looked upon as absurd in light of the methodology in use today. But there were all sorts of advantages to owning a home where the walls were a foot thick. The floors didn't creak when you walked on them As Cale let himself in, he heard Sylvia talking to someone quietly, and he gathered that she was at least a little upset from the soft sounds of her sniffles every now and then. Easing out of his wet boots Cale walked down the hall soundlessly. He took one glance through the doorway and he leaned back slowly, feeling a little ashamed and also wanting to laugh a little. Sylvia was sitting on the couch, right at the end. It was the only place where she could sit, since Rufus was on the couch as well, stretched out full length with his legs out in space a little over the edge and his great head on her lap. Her fingers were stroking his ears as she spoke to him in a quiet voice. It was what she wore that caught his eye. Sylvia was wearing a hooded sweatshirt of his that he hadn't seen in over two decades. On her, it was more than a little large and he felt a flood of recollections of the times when she'd worn it long ago most often in this very room, though it now looked nothing like the abandoned farmhouse that it had been then when two young people came here every night to make love over the course of one summer. "You're an old family legend, Rufus," she said as she looked down with a soft smile that became a smirk to herself in another moment, "We do have a lot of them and I had my doubts until I remembered it and spent a little time alone with you. But I get it now and I see that the Cù Sìth of the Mac Domhnaills of Antrim walks again. My grandmother said that there is always one here and always will be, as long as a Mac Domhnaill holds the land. I think it must be at least a little true," she smiled at him, "I've lived here my whole life, except when I was away at school or with Paul in the city for the first few years. I've always seen glimpses of the Black Dog now and then, running the woods and the glens that my family never cleared here. Gramma said that it was that way for you and the ones before you, and that the wild parts were never to be cleared. That's why you're here now, isn't it? You came down from the hills and walked across the stream to live with Cale. You can't remember him, since you're too young, but he was here before just like I was. He was the first man I ever loved, Rufus." She looked up at the wall across from her, seeing the texture of the rough-hewn timbers there. "He was seventeen and in the militia the first time that I ever saw him. He came to the big house over the hill because he'd gotten separated from his unit during their summer exercises, and he needed to ask if he could use the phone. I came into the kitchen with some berries for my Gramma and old Amy McDonnell and I nearly dropped the bowl on the floor when I saw him. He looked a little silly standing there all in green and feeling stupid to have gotten lost so easily. While Amy got him pointed toward the phone and he pulled his notebook out of his pocket as he followed her, my Gramma smiled at me and asked me if I liked him in a very soft voice. I said that I didn't know, since it was hard to tell with his face all smeared up as it was and I'd only gotten one look at him. He was in the hall dialing the phone, so I looked at him for a minute before I looked back at Gramma. She gave me one of her questioning expressions and then I nodded. I was a bit of an ugly duckling then, seventeen myself and built like I was still eleven only taller. I had no hips and absolutely no boobs either, but I already had the Mac Domhnaill face -- so that didn't help." The remark caused Cale to remember and smile. Many of the women in her family had those facial features. When they were girls, they looked a little odd and weren't considered pretty. Their noses were a just a tiny bit hooked, and the rest of the face lent itself to only one hairstyle, and that was long. They might keep it trimmed to look neat, but none of them ever really cut their hair very much unless it got to be too much trouble. Even then, they only cut it to where it would almost reach their hips. They looked ungainly when they were very young and that sort of face usually became the classic 'witch's face' when they'd grown to be very old crones, but in between, they all shared a very remarkable and rather haunting, ethereal beauty. "It took a couple of hours before the big green army truck arrived to come get him," Sylvia smiled, "I kept him topped up with lemonade and we talked a lot. My dad came over from the barn and wanted to know what was going on and, seeing that Cale was dressed as a soldier, Dad wanted to tear a strip off him for the way that the noise of the exercises were upsetting the cows and all of the helicopters flying really low everywhere were causing the chickens to keel over in fright, but Gramma just told him to use his head, saying that it wasn't the young man's fault personally. Right after that, she started in on him, working the notion in that with old Da in the hospital and Brodie going to be going home to Scotland for a visit the next summer that my Dad had better get started on giving some thought to getting someone to help with the work. Dad looked at Cale and asked him if he'd be interested and Cale said yes it the job started next summer." She smirked down at Rufus, "Well Cale didn't always look like he is now. Back then he was nice for a girl like me to look at, but he was a little thin himself and Daddy told him so, too. Then he asked if Cale had ever done any sort of farming work and Cale answered, "No sir." Just as Dad was about to say that he didn't need him, Gramma said that he'd be perfect, since Dad wouldn't have to get any bad habits out of him. He was about to answer when the big truck ground up the hill to collect Cale. A sergeant or somebody got out and started yelling at Cale for being clueless and getting himself lost -- even though the back of the truck was full of other guys who'd done the same thing, but the man wouldn't stop yelling. He didn't know it, but Cale already had a friend in Gramma. She came storming out and told him to shut his trap and get back in the truck and be gone, since he was wasting taxpayer money just standing there. He was about to say something, but as he turned, he fell over and looked confused. Gramma said it was what she expected, since he was either a fool or drunk and likely both, and when he tried to walk back to the truck, he tripped and fell against the side of the truck with his face. So he got back in, bloody nose and all and wanted to get the hell out of there. Cale hadn't even gotten into the back of the truck yet. The sergeant was about to yell again, but he saw Gramma's face, I guess, and he asked nicely. Gramma nudged me and said to go kiss Cale's cheek quick if I wanted to have him here the next summer, so that's what I did, and he asked me if he could come and see me before the summer and if it would be alright if he called. I said I'd like that, so I wrote our phone number in his little notebook and kissed his cheek again and then he climbed up into the truck and they drove off. The first chance I got, I went to see Gramma in private, because I didn't know what this was all about. She asked me to make us some tea and she'd tell me all about it. What she told me was that every girl, when they're growing up and after they're of age needs to know what's what, and that most never get that. They get married right away or they don't have anyone to tell them. She told me that by next summer, I'd need those lessons; the ones where a girl gets to know what men are and what they're not. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about and I told her that I just liked Cale over the time that we'd talked. I grew up on that farm so I thought I had a pretty good idea about things, but she said no, and that she was going to see to it that her granddaughter got the gift of the one summer that every girl really ought to have in their lives. Mom was about ready to call us to supper, but when she walked in, she was smiling because she already knew. I didn't know anything about all of that -- I was just hoping that I might get a boyfriend out of it, since nobody that I knew was showing any interest in me at all. But Cale was really good-looking to me and over the months, I got to really hoping for the rest of the year to fly by. Cale came up from the city a few times to visit and after a while, my Dad got to like him, because he could see that Cale wasn't afraid of work or getting dirty. I didn't care about that, I had my first boyfriend," she grinned down at Rufus. "Dad would lend us the car and we went to do all of the things that people our age did, and when my friends saw us together, I actually felt like a million bucks -- not in a showing off way; just because I didn't feel so plain and ordinary anymore. Cale was like that for me. When I was with him, I felt beautiful because I could see that I was to him. He was friendly to everybody, but it was pretty obvious that he only had eyes for me, and there is no better feeling to a girl than that. So he came to stay with us the next summer and by then, I had just the barest bumps on my chest, but Cale loved them and we spent every minute that we could find trading kisses or hugs during the day. I still don't know why his bladder didn't explode for the way that I was always finding ways to get ahead in my chores so I could bring him something to drink as an excuse to be with him for a few minutes." She smirked, "but I really wasn't fooling anybody. Whenever I got back to work, my Mom or Gramma would smile at me every time, and Amy would make a remark about how surprising it was that I kept Cale's thirst top of mind so often. My father spent every single day trying to work Cale into the ground and if he knew what we did afterward, he never said a word, but I think that he knew. Every night, we came here and we taught each other. Gramma would ask me what sorts of things that we'd done and then she'd tell me some other things to try. I couldn't believe it. Gramma and Amy and Mom -- they all knew what we were doing. Mom told me it was only natural and to be careful -- and she said that as she handed me a box of condoms! By the end of the summer, Cale had to buy a lot of new clothes because the ones that he came with just didn't fit him anymore. I still have a couple of his T-shirts that I've saved along with what I'm wearing now. And by then, I could actually say that I had tits and hips. My thought was that they'd just picked then to show up, but Gramma would argue that living like a woman could go a long way toward finishing what nature had started. So this old place is pretty special to an old farm girl like me. There were a couple of times when I looked up and thought I could see a dark shape out there, and when I asked, Gramma told me about Cù Sìth and that there was always one, and not to ever need to feel afraid of it." She looked a little sad then, "When the summer ended, I had to go to university and Cale had joined the army and had to report. We spent Labor Day weekend in here and made love as we cried at the same time. We said that we'd try to get together, but life never worked out that way for us. The women of my family all told me of their first lovers and the summers that they loved them, but they said that it was a time that a girl needs to finish growing up, and that those loves almost never are the ones of their lives. I met other guys and eventually I met Paul. By the time that we were married, Cale was already on his way to a divorce. We only ran into each other in town one day a few years ago when he came up here to live. We're still best friends and I hope that we always will be. I never did find another man like him, though. A part of me is still in love with him after more than a quarter of a century, but that's alright -- or it was, until I found out about Pauls's latest ..." She bowed her head and began to cry again. Cale stood in the hallway needing several things then, and the most urgent one was to pretend that he'd heard nothing for the moment. He'd seen Rufus' tail begin to wag, so he knew that the dog was at least aware of his presence. He went back to the door to open and re-close it, calling out, "Sylvia?" He just had time to wipe his own eyes when Rufus bounded into the hall and Sylvia came after him, looking like an earthbound angel in his old sweatshirt and nothing else. "What are you doing home?" she asked as she tried to sniffle quietly and wipe her face. "I'm busy," he smiled, "Busy feeling like an idiot, and looking at you upset like this means that I'll be busy trying to find out what's wrong and needing to make you feel better. I waited too long and Maya has someone now," he shrugged, "but I'm happy for her and I kind of expected that anyway. Why are you upset? Nobody's been hit by a bus, have they?" She sighed and shrugged at the same time, looking a little lost and embarrassed to have been found here like this. "Paul's been screwing around again," she said, "this makes three and I told him that he'd only ever get three chances out of me." She looked up, "I should get dressed and get home. I found out yesterday and I got the proof today and -- I just didn't want to be at home. Everywhere that I look there I'm reminded and so I ... I just came here with Rufie. I was about to go to sleep, but I just kept crying all over again. I didn't think you'd mind it if I spent the night here." The shocked and concerned look that she saw on his face seemed to complete some loss inside of her and she began to cry all over again. Cale held her the instant after that and he just let her hang on to him as she wept. "Come on," he said to her softly, "There's just one thing that I need to do before anything else and then I'm all yours. I'll fix us some hot tea and you can let it all out if you need that, but I need for you to listen to me, ok?" She nodded against him and he said, "That bastard has ploughed the driveway shut again. I've seen what he does to the road signs around here at night when he clips them with the plow blade, so I'm going to get our trucks off the road." He pulled back and looked at her for a moment, "But I need you to promise me something. While I'm gone doing the fastest job at getting the driveway ploughed out, I want you to get it into your head that you're not going to leave to go back home to cry. You can do that all you want right here, ok? I already know what Sylvia needs, and that's to be here with her best friend and his dog. Other than your daughter in England, you don't have much of any family now, but you've got me. I'll listen to you and until you tell me that you're ready to, I'll never let you go, not till you're better." "Ok," he heard her say, "I just want to get my pants back on." Cale laughed a little, "I can see that, but I was really hoping that you'd let me see you like that for at least a little while. It brings back some of the best memories of my life." Sylvia nodded, "Me too. That's why I was wearing this, but I can't go out there like this, and I'm not going home. You should grab a shovel and give me the key to your tractor. I've got a lot more experience at it than you." Cale smiled then, knowing that she was right, and liking the look on her face which told him that she was feeling at least a tiny bit better. "Deal," he said. As he worked, Cale had to hand it to Sylvia. He'd never aspired to greatness in the operation of a tractor with a front end shovel, but she could work that thing to perfection and it wasn't long before she had the end of the driveway half-clear and he had both trucks idling to warm up for when she was done. "Follow me back in one of the trucks," she said over the tractor's rumbling, "then give me a ride back and we'll bring them both to the house." "Hey, are you hungry?"he asked and she nodded, "Kinda. I haven't eaten anything today." "There's the McD still open all night in town," he said, "Want to go?" She nodded, "Ok, but Rufus ... " He laughed then, "I wasn't going to leave him here. He can come." So they drove off in his old truck, Sylvia sitting next to him and Rufus in the crew cab seat in the back, where he made it abundantly clear that he didn't fit well. He didn't mind though; he was happy to be going somewhere. "If you think you're ok to talk about it, what's going on with Paul?" Cale asked, "I'm no expert or anything, but I can often spot guys who do that sort of thing, and he doesn't look all that stupid or crazy to me." "He's done it before, and I guess that he just never believed me. I can feel it when he does that, and then I call the investigator that I've used before. They're not cheap, but they deliver really well and quickly, so that sort of offsets the rate. This is the third time and we're done," she said, "I'll never take him back -- especially this time. I've got the photos I printed from the email at your place. I needed to look at them to get really mad, or I'd just cry myself into a puddle. I have an appointment tomorrow with a lawyer that Bailey recommended. She's really very good at nailing somebody who needs it. You've met her, it's Penny." Cale's eyes opened wide and he laughed, "I'm a little glad now that I never got the chance to disappoint her in any way then." Sylvia looked over, "No, but both of them thought the world of you and wonder what you didn't like. Have they got a chance in a little while -- once you get over ..." "Maya," Cale smiled, "I dunno, I don't think so. They're both lovely to me," he said, "I just don't think that I'm the kind of man -- " "Who's smart, not full of himself, sensible," she began to list qualities on her fingertips, "REALLY good-looking, and awesome in bed?" He almost put a crick in his neck as he snapped his head around, "Huh?" "What happened to you that I don't know about?" she asked, "Did that skank that you married break something? She couldn't have. You weren't together long enough. The only other possibility would be the photographer that you were seeing. Oh wait!" she smiled, "Maya." Cale rolled his eyes, "Ok, Maya could have broken something -- like my back or my nose." "Alright Cale," Sylvia said, "There's nobody in the list who might have changed you in any way, is there? We were together once upon a time, and you were better than good then." "I'm a lot older now," he said. Sylvia was petting the cheek of Rufus as he stood with his head leaning past her's on the window side. "Do me a favor, Rufus," she groaned a little as she stretched to hold her head against his, "and bite your boss in the bag when you get the chance, ok? He needs to wake up. I'd do it, but we're not like that. I'm only his friend, but I can see that he needs the adjustment." A Man on an Island Ch. 05 "Hey," Cale said, ignoring her remark, "you said that you can feel it when Paul is messing around? I'm not doubting you, but -- " "Can I borrow your cellphone for a second?"she asked. Cale shrugged and he handed it over as Sylvia fished a little notebook from the pocket of her jacket and reached up for the map light button. "Nice," she smiled, "a decent signal." She dialed carefully. "Who are you phoning?" Cale asked. "Paul," she said with no emotion in her voice, "eventually." "Hi, Stu?" she asked, and after a moment, she smiled, "At her place? So he's still there as far as you know?" She waited as she listened to the reply before she chuckled, "Awesome. I hate what I'm doing, but you guys are the best. No, you got what I asked for. So you're gone then? Ok, thanks so much. Bye." She hung up and began to dial another number, "Now I'm calling Paul." The line rang a three times and she smirked when the Voice Message cut in, "Just a wake-up call, Honey," she purred into the cellphone, "You're busted -- again. Three strikes and you're out on your ass. Don't come home. I'll have you served at the office when my attorney can arrange for that." She disconnected as Cale looked over, "Whoa ... " Sylvia held up three fingers, "Two more than he was worth. I'd have ditched him the first time, but I had zero money, our daughter was only five, and he sweet-talked me into giving him another chance." She consulted a different page of the little book and dialed again. It rang a few times and then she heard a voice, "Hello. Cale?" "Nope, it's Sylvia. I'm just using Cale's phone. Could you please hand the phone to Paul -- if he hasn't fallen asleep?" Cale's head snapped around a third time and his eyebrows were headed for his hairline. It looked a little absurd to Sylvia, who had to turn her head away as she reached for the overhead map light button to turn it off. "Paul?" Kate asked, "You mean your husband? He's -- " "Yeah, Paul, or maybe you know him as Paolo. He's right next to you in your bed, as of about two minutes ago, Kate," Sylvia said coldly, "You ought to close the blinds. I'll send you the photos at work if you like, but I might make a mistake and send them to the Human Resources department just as easily. I imagine that even crows like the ones you work for have a mission statement and rules to abide by. Just tell Paul not to come home. He doesn't live there anymore and I've already had the locks changed. I don't want him back when you get tired of him and his phony bullshit Italian stallion act -- if you aren't already. Just so you know, you've spent more time in Italy than he ever has, He's never been there. And you can go to hell, yourself. This is one bridge that will stay burned." She pressed the disconnect button and handed it back to Cale. It rang in his pocket a second later and he pressed the ignore button. When he looked again, Sylvia was looking out of the window and wiping her eyes. "Are you ok, Sylvia?" He asked. She nodded, "The first time felt like a knife in the guts, but I tried, thinking that It must be me. The second time that it happened, I decided that it wasn't me, it was just him being a horn dog and wanting what he should know better than to try for. I still took him back, but I told him that it was the last time." She looked down for a minute, "Now I'm more pissed than hurt over the attempts that I made to fix something that wasn't broken. I should have just called it a day the first time. I'm still upset and I am hurt, but not as much as I used to be, I guess. I'm REALLY pissed at my cousin. Anything for a pat on her little head. I've listened to her bitch over how that old boy's club treats her, and yet she jumps at tearing down somebody's dream? It makes me mad at Paul all over again for being so stupid. She'll get what she wants and he'll wonder how he ever agreed to it -- and then he'll want half of the farm when I won't take him back, but it's not that easy. He thinks that I own the farm, but he's wrong. There's no way that he'll ever get that, but I won't tell him." She looked over, "Sorry for the rant, Cale." Cale smiled, "You just let it all out. I don't mind." They made it through the empty drive-through and decided to eat in the truck. Rufus decided that he liked it when Sylvia fed him a small French fry now and then. "You were asking me something," she smiled, "Oh yeah, how do I know? I'm not sure that I ought to try to tell you, since I really doubt that you'd believe me, but unless Paul's been screwing around with a whole lot of women, there have only been the three times that I felt it as it happened. Still," she shrugged, "You're my best friend, so if I can't get you to believe me, there's likely no hope that I could get anyone else to. The land that the farm is on," she said, "A lot of the land in the area was surveyed into 50 acres sections, since that was a good-sized family farm back in 1800. Many of those sections were given to British army and navy people as the other half of their pensions, so rather than get their whole pensions, they'd take half and show up to ask for the rest as land to begin to farm on with their families. My ancestors didn't do that. They just showed up and they bought four parcels together. As the years went by, they bought up a few more, which is why they owned over nine hundred acres at one point. I'm down to about five hundred eighty now and I want to keep it like that if I can. There were two parts of the same clan and I'm going back about six hundred years," she said as she fed another fry to Rufus, "In Scotland, they were the McDonnells and in Ireland, they used the original name of Mac Domhnaill, but they were the same. Not all of them were uh, regular folks. Every once in a while there'd be a 'Great Witch Hunt' and a McDonnell or two would get caught in it. My part of the family just got tired of it after a while and after a few showed up from Ireland, they all shuffled off to the New World to hide out a little easier, I guess. They never were a bunch of upside-down pentangle people, but if everybody in town is looking to burn somebody and you're a little different..." "Well, what were they?" Cale asked, "You mean like Wiccans?" Sylvia laughed and shook her head, "No, but the word 'witch' is a brush that paints a wide stroke, isn't it? Nobody really cares anymore and people aren't as close with each other as they used to be. There have always been wise women and men in the villages and towns of Europe, people you'd go to for advice and help in little ways that were not obvious. They were known as fey. Some of them were known to be nuts, and most were known to have quiet little abilities and skills. A good number of my family were like that. So they came here and dispersed a little and most tried to fit in like anybody else. They probably still do. You know me as Sylvia McDonnell, but that's not my true name -- there's just no point in trying to confuse people." Cale was listening and he was a little surprised, "Well, what's your name then? If we've been friends all this time, I'm a little disappointed that I never knew it." "You heard it when my grandmother spoke to me, Cale," she chuckled, "or weren't you listening? Think back and tell me what she always called me. It wasn't 'Sylvia', was it?" He looked down and then he looked at her, "She called you 'Sheelah', but I always thought that was a pet name of something." "That's my name," Sylvia smiled, "I think Gramma liked to say it because I was named after her. We just have different middle names, that's all. She's Sile Maura Mac Domhnaill, and I'm Sile Muirren Mac Domhnaill." "Are you angry, Cale?" she asked, but he shook his head, "No, I don't think so. But I am feeling a little left out. There was a time when you and I were lovers, and I thought that we were honest with each other, that's all and I mean that a little softly. Try to look at it from the view of a seventeen year-old kid before that summer when we were eighteen and living in each other's skin. Now I find that the name that I kept on my lips for the whole year wasn't the right name?" He grinned then, "I'm just kidding, mostly." "I'm sorry and I never meant to hide anything from you. It was just something that we did then. I used a sort of anglicized version for when I went to school. Now, I'm mentioning it because of who we are to each other, Cale." She fished around in her pocket and came up with her wallet. She unfolded it and held it out to him and Cale looked. "This is official?" he asked, and she nodded, turning a few of the little vinyl pockets over until she found the one that she wanted, "My birth certificate." "Jesus," he muttered. "Nope," she grinned, "I'm happy being Sylvia to most everyone, but to Cale Taylor, I want to be who I am, Sile Muirenn Mac Domhnaill." "Sheelah?" he asked and she nodded, so he shrugged, "Ok. That is a pretty cool name, though." "Seriously?" she asked, "You're not angry?" He laughed, "No. I'm just afraid now that I'll never learn to say that correctly. Damn," he said almost to himself, "that is a nice name -- at least when you say it." He didn't know what he'd said, but it got him a kiss from her, "You can call me Sylvia," she said, "I just really wanted you to know my real name, more than anything. Paul never gave a shit as far as I could ever tell." "So you just knew it when he was messing around?" She nodded, "Yes. If I'm with somebody, I care about them. We've got all sorts of ways to tighten that. I don't think that it would have made the slightest bit of difference to you from the way that we were even that first day when you stood in my mother's kitchen, but you were in the middle of a bunch of women who believed in a different force of nature, that's all. Old Amy and my grandmother were distant relations had both been married since forever, and they loved their men, but they also loved each other, which was something else not really looked on very highly at the time. But both of them liked you in a heartbeat, and my mother did as well, so while I sat daydreaming, they tried to -- not force -- that's much too strong a word. Let's say that they tried to get some nice thoughts of me into your head. When it was time for you to get into the back of that truck, I could have kissed you until the church bells rang, but I'd never have had the nerve. It was Gramma who told me to do it -- if I wanted you to come back the next summer. I wouldn't call that witchcraft." Cale chuckled, "It sure worked though." "Well there was nothing to help us at the end of the summer," she said a little sadly, "I often wish that we could have stayed just like that." Cale nodded, "I always have that wish whenever I think of it." "So anyway," she said, wanting to change the subject, "there's the legend of Cù Sìth, the otherworldly dogs who are supposed to protect us on our land. The legend says that there is always only one, but I always thought that it was the same one, and that's apparently not the case," she grinned at Rufus who was trying to force the fry that she held in her fingers to float toward his mouth by staring at it, "and there's nothing to be read anywhere that says that they like fries. I always used to see one for a moment, but it you looked really hard, they'd fade into the woods. The only one that I've seen in a while was Rufie when I was out riding and that was before he moved in with you." "You think he's -- whatever you said? I dunno about him being otherworldly," he laughed, "He eats way too much for that." She laughed a little as she reached behind her to tousle Rufus' head, "I'd love to think he is, but the way that I was told about it all, Cu Sith is a legend in a lot of places in Scotland, and in most of those legends, they aren't friendly and if you see one, it usually means that someone that you know will die soon. The Cu Sith in the stories of my family was a large black hound who hung around and protected people. I heard some stories of lost children being herded home. And anyway, it was said that Cu Sith of the Mac Domhnaills never left the land because they couldn't. Rufus isn't exactly on the land, is he? He's here with us." She turned her head, "But I'm glad you're here, Rufus, no matter what you are. I'd never be able to eat my bonus fries without you." Cale's expression hadn't changed to this point, but now he looked confused. "Bonus fries?" "That's what my daughter Siobhan always calls them. They're the fries that fall out of the cardboard container and land in the bottom of the bag." "I'm still a little stuck over this 'feeling things' as they're happening," he said. "It comes as little clues and thoughts," she smiled, "at the strangest times. Like when I'm feeling miserable and the one friend that I really need then shows up and hides in the hallway, feeling like he's eavesdropping when he shouldn't be, but there's nothing much that I can do about it but feel foolish myself because I'm sitting there not even dressed since I didn't expect you to come home then." She said, "Well, we'll have to figure that out, I guess. In the meantime, I've got my hands full with the mess that I've started here for the next little while. I feel like shit and I also feel really betrayed by my husband and my own cousin." As they drove back, they were quiet for most of the trip as Sylvia looked out at the darkened landscape. "Would you do me a favor?" Cale asked quietly and she looked over with a nod. "I think that I can see that all of this might get a little rough for you," he said, "You know that I'd do anything I could to help you, but we live a half a mile apart. I'd like to be near you now -- if I could, at least until you're not angry or upset. I won't get in your way and I won't even suggest any ideas of how to handle things better bu-" "Please let me stay with you," she interrupted with a smile, "I think I need that. I won't even get in your way," she chuckled as she rolled her eyes. She took his hand then, "It feels really good to still have you as my best friend." "Can I ask you a question?" he said and she nodded. "Why were you throwing all of those women at me? You know me, I have enough trouble considering one at a time." She looked out of the window for a moment, "Because I want you to be happy and have somebody to love you. Those are my friends, and I know them as good people. I'd want them to be happy too. I didn't mean to bury you or anything. Was it wrong?" No," he smiled, "It's just that I uh, ... I work a lot slower than that. I felt like a gameshow contestant for a while there. They're all wonderful and they didn't do anything wrong individually. I just couldn't handle six. I know that you're not ready to be in the market, but one day, I hope I get a chance to be in your life in a larger way. I'm still in love with your face when you smile at me." She turned to look over, "Really?" He sighed and he squeezed her hand a little as he drove, "Yeah." "Well," she laughed, "just see if I throw any more women your way, then. I just know what'll happen if I do. One of them will bag you eventually and I'll have to wait another twenty years." There was a bit of an awkward silence then until Cale looked over, "You meant that, didn't you?" "Yes," she groaned, "It just slipped out, ok? Look Cale, I --" "Uh-uh," he chuckled, "I heard it. I'm taking that to mean that I just have to be patient. Good things come to those who wait. I'll give you maybe a decade to decide before I get antsy. The way that I figure it, over twenty years and I learn that the girl that I loved so much is even more enchanting than she was before and she's got more names that Carter's has pills. I can't wait to see what I'll get to learn about you then." The silence fell again, and then she asked, "You meant that, right?" He looked over briefly and nodded, "Yeah I did -- well not the part about waiting and learning. I guess I'm saying that I know that you've got a lot on your plate right now. I guess I'm saying that once you get everything ironed out, I'll still be here." ------------------------- Cale waited at the door while Rufus was thinking about peeing and if he decided that, then he'd need to decide exactly where that might be done to best effect. Sylvia watched him, thinking about things. She got the stove going nicely again and with another look at him, she pulled her pants off and pulled the bottom of the old sweatshirt lower. She had no intention to do anything, but she wanted to feel the way that she'd felt before he came home. This was her favorite sweatshirt and she'd nursed it through all of the years. She was upset and when she was this way, there was nothing better for her to wear. Other than her legs from a bit above her knees, there was nothing to see and anyway, they were old friends. Even so, she felt a little uncertain and she didn't really want him to get the wrong idea. She looked down as her knees as she thought it over and she decided that it was Cale, so she forgot about being concerned. "Thank you," she heard him say and when she looked up, he was smiling as he closed the door. "You mean about the shirt?" she asked, and he nodded, "I just love to see you like that." "Well I've decided that I'm staying near you and I was going to sleep in this anyway. Where am I going to sleep, by the way?" He shrugged,"Anywhere you want." She laughed a little, "Alright," she grinned and pointed, "I want to sleep -- and that's the word that I mean, sleep -- with you, right there." He looked, "Right there, as in, right there on the floor?" She nodded, "About the only thing that you and I didn't do right there was sleep. I think it's long past time. I'm sure that you've got all the cushions that we'd need right there on the couch and that chair and that one and -- " "You're really serious, aren't you?" he asked with a grin, "I'd love that. I probably won't be able to move in the morning, but why not?" He looked a little concerned for a moment after that, "But I think that we should ... I don't know to say this ..." "Well I do," she smiled, "I want to sleep with you. That means that I want to lie down next to you and sleep. I want to hug you a little, but that's all. You don't have to look so nervous." Cale was relieved, "That's what I thought you meant. I just didn't want you to think that I wouldn't want ... " He threw up his hands, knowing that he was only going to be digging himself a hole, no matter what he said now. She got up and walked over, "I know what you mean and thank you," she said as she kissed him for a moment, "That's someplace that we shouldn't get near right now. I always felt so good when you used to hold me. That's all that I want, Cale. I've just had my nose rubbed into my own foolishness. I have the best friend I ever had in you and I know that you'd do anything for me. I want to sleep next to you and I know that I'll feel better. I already do, just because we're here." --------------------- The bed was an air mattress that Cale thought of and dragged out, thankful that it still held air, and there was the moment when she looked at him as he wondered what he ought to be wearing here. "It's me, Cale," she laughed, "there's no need to get formal. You always used to sleep in your underwear, so that's fine with me, but I don't care anyway. What do you usually wear to bed these days?" She watched him for a moment and she giggled, "Right. That would be fine with me too." ------------------------- "I wanted to ask you," Sylvia said as she crawled back from banking the woodstove down for the night, "What happened to you? You've changed a little. I see you as a bit unsure of yourself -- not with me, but with other women. It's no big deal, but I'm curious." A Man on an Island Ch. 05 "I don't know," he said, "It just seems like I'm always, ... I can't really express it. I think that there have been periods where I just could never meet anyone, and then there were times when I didn't want to. It doesn't make any sense to me, so I can't really answer." She got next to him and they looked at each other. "What did you like about Maya?" She asked, "I can see that no matter what you tell me, you're a bit upset." "You're wrong," he said, "but not far wrong. I liked a lot of things about her. She had a way of being, you might say. When we were together all alone, she was like a woman who had her man and knew that he cared for her -- and could cherish her. I could see that in her eyes when it happened. She needed to be loved, and to her, it was a quiet thing, but once it began, it was really deep. It didn't have to be anything other than a man and a woman knowing how the other one felt. I always liked that." He smirked, "And then there was another side of her that she'd show sometimes, and I'd wonder if I'd survive it." "I know you," Sylvia said, "even after all this time, I know you well. I can see that you're a little hurt, but I can't tell how much. The more that I search to know, the more that it bothers me." Cale shrugged, "If I was really hurt, I think that it would mean that I'd been unrealistic. I'm a little sad and disappointed, but it was a long time, and I didn't expect her to sit by the phone or anything like that. It was my not thinking clearly for so long that's the reason. With all of the time that went by, what could I expect? I even knew that. I was just hoping that ... that I might be able to fix my mistake in not realizing it sooner." He frowned for a moment, "I think that's the part that I'm really upset over, that I'm so slow about things like that. Maya's a wonderful person, and I always thought that she had a really exotic kind of beauty to her. But ... you snooze, you lose, I guess. I am happy to know that she's got somebody in Hector. We all need someone, and it bothered me to think that somebody like her was all alone." The room was almost dark except for the flickering glow of the flames through the almost closed inlet damper of the stove. They were quiet as they looked at each other for a few minutes, and to Cale, it was so good to have her here with him. To Sylvia, it was good to find that they didn't need to talk to carry this. Rufus broke the spell when he stretched and groaned deeply, and they smiled at each other. "I'm happy that he's here," she said, "You want me to paint you one of my little pictures?" It was something that Cale had always loved when they'd been here before. Sylvia had a rich imagination and it was often steeped in the lore and culture of the British Isles mostly, though it wasn't limited to those places. She could converse just about as easily on the doings of Norse or other Germanic people, and she just had a way to tell these little vignette-like stories that used to enthrall him. She told of a pair of people who lived on the isle of Skye and how the woman was alone and living in the stone house that she'd found one day a few years before. She guessed that the original occupants had been murdered for some reason, judging by the way that their remains were positioned. It didn't matter, she supposed, she was alone, her man having been killed the winter before. She needed a place to live though the coming winter and this was it. She buried the corpses and just began her solitary life again. Always a little sensitive to things, she began to search for the herbs and roots that she'd need for her scrying ability and with that in hand, she paused for a little while to think on what she might grow in the rocky soil that she found. It didn't take her long to find the seeds and tubers left by the original inhabitants. She just needed to survive. She knew that she'd likely live on alone here until she couldn't anymore, but she saw no other choice and so she began. There was a fierce storm one day and it challenged her in a few ways. It forced her to try to repair the broken door, and even after that was done, it was a struggle to keep the place a little warm because she had to look ahead and not burn all of her wood. As evening approached, the storm howled unabated and she took her scrying bowl in her hands and sought to know how much longer this might last. What she saw instead was a man. He was plainly a Viking raider by the look of him, but he was alone, clinging to a little of the wreckage of his longboat as it was bashed against the rocks. With a start, she recognized the place as one not far off -- just as she knew that what she was seeing was happening at that instant. Her first thoughts were fearful if there were raiders in the area, but after a time, she saw only the few bodies that were being dashed against the sharp rocks at the edge of the sea. It came to her that this one man was all that was left of the company. She watched for a little while longer and then she got to her feet and began to walk through the cold wind and the lashing rain. She was looking at that man less than ten minutes later as he tried feebly to pull himself up and out of the cold surf. The trouble was that he wore his shield on his back and his heavy sword hung from its scabbard at a time when his strength was leaving him. She walked in as far as she could and called to him. It was several minutes before he seemed to even hear her, but when he almost fell again, she made up her mind and when he looked up in confusion, she was beside him, under his arm and helping to get him the last of the way out onto the shore. He tried to speak to her then, but she waved her hand to him and motioned that they needed to get away from the shore. He nodded at last and allowed her to guide him stumbling through the darkness until they came to her home. He almost collapsed on the threshold, but she got him inside and as he stood there looking at her in wonder, she took his sword from him, scabbard and all, struggling with the weight of it to set it down. As he tried to straighten up with mixed success, she was behind him, fighting with his shield to get his arm out of the strap. She threw it down as well and helped him down. He wanted to sit, but she shook her head and pointed at her bed of furs and when he finally got the idea and laid down, she took the last of the sodden clothing from him with a bit of a fight and covered him before she went to close the door and care for him. She was soaked to the skin herself and he watched with a dazed look as she took off her wet clothing and put on something which was dry. He fell asleep but she woke him when she had some broth heated up. She fed him a whole bowl of it and then she made her decision to throw a large piece of driftwood onto the fire to get the place a little warmer for him. They tried to talk, but aside from a few words, it was impossible. She could see that he was thankful -- he just couldn't tell her, so he bowed his head, saying it anyway in his language. Eventually, the fatigue won out and he laid back to sleep as she considered him by the flickering light of the fire. It was obvious by the scars on him and some of the lines on his face that this had not been the first journey that he'd been on and the thought was a little pleasing to the woman, since it allowed her to feel a little hope, since she was no young girl herself either. She thought this might go in any of several ways. The worst case would be for him to think to find a way to his home, perhaps by building a smaller version of what had brought him and his dead friends here. He could always take her and sell her as a slave. He might stay long enough to get well again and then just leave her behind. She was faced with any of several of the lousy outcomes so common for females at that time. But as she watched him sleep, she saw another possibility and decided to use whatever poor charms that nature had given her and that she might still have left, so she lifted the furs from him and his eyes opened. She decided that he had nice eyes, blue as they were and yet for the coolness of them, she saw no cruelty there -- at least she hoped that she was right. He looked up at her questioningly and tried to sit up, but she waved her hand at him again and smiled as she took her simple dress off and got under the furs with him. She knew that he was near the end of his reserves and she made it clear to him that she wanted to warm him and little else for the time. As he stared at her a little, she kept the soft smile on her face and she crawled onto him to put her head onto his shoulder. He understood then and he held onto her, finally letting the wary tension leave his body. He was asleep only a minute later. Over the next few days, she worked like a fiend, trying to find wood and food for them both as he slept and gradually came back to the world of the living. By the end of the third day, he was up and trying to help her as he could. The day after that, she wondered if he was going to leave her as she watched him walk back to the place where she'd rescued him. But he returned a little later laden with everything that he could salvage from the wreckage, and by some miracle, he'd found a small cask of mead. They shared it with their meal that evening and by then, they'd each learned the other one's name and after a little shyness on her part which surprised him, they made love, with him learning a lot of the things that she liked to feel. He'd learned long ago that you could get your way with a little force, but that if you forgot your own selfishness, it made for a better partnership together. Sylvia looked over as she fell silent, her eyes regarding him for a time, but when their eyes met, Cale told her it was a wonderful little story. "Did you really like it?" she asked and he nodded. She sat up and looked around at the old place and tried to think of how many generations of her family had lived here, "It wasn't anything more than something about a woman and a man long ago in a harsh and windswept place. In a place like that at the time, two people could think about things and just begin. They knew what they had to do, both of them, and they knew what they wanted, after a long hard day doing what they had to do to live, they'd eat together and maybe try to soothe each other's aches before they tried to get a little loving in and went to sleep." Lifting herself a little to get the weight of her hip off the sweatshirt, she began to pull if over her head. "Sylvia, ..." he began, but she had it off by then and smiled down at him, "I want to sleep Cale, and I forgot about how warm you always were. I can't sleep next to you in a sweatshirt. I'd only wake up in a puddle of sweat." He looked at her in the dim flickering light of the stove and smiled, "You're still amazing to me when I look at you." "That's the nicest thing to hear from you," she said as she took his hand and kissed it softly before she held it against her breastbone for a moment, "My life is a mess, or it's about to become one and I'm tired out from my long and rotten day. You sat in an airplane for hours and drove all the way home and then drove some more. Talking to you and lying next to you, I almost can't imagine a better end to it, though." He thought that she'd lie down next to him then, and she did, but only after sliding herself down. Cale didn't understand for a moment. "What are you doing?" She wasn't all the way down onto her side yet and he watched her move her long blonde hair out of the way as she looked up at him with a very soft smile. "I hope that you can understand this, Cale, but in his stupid and selfish way, Paul gave me a gift when he got into bed with my cousin. He broke his vows to me for the third time. Well, the third time's the charm, they say and so he's set me free, though I doubt that he'd ever think of it that way. I live by the lights of the ways of my family and that's the way of it in this regard. I didn't break my vows, but they lie broken anyway by his hand, and not mine. I'm free and I'm lying with the first man that I ever loved and I don't know how that would go at all, but I am thankful," she said as she took him in her hand and caressed him. "Sylvia," he began, and she shook her head. "Sile," she said, "I'm Sile to you in this place and alone with you. Sylvia is fine any other time, but here -- now, I am Sile." "Ok then," he said as he looked up, "Sheelah, are you sure that you're not about do to something that we'd regret later?" She smirked, "We're not going to do much of anything, Cale. I'm going to do something that I've missed for so very long," she said, pleased that at least the one part of him in her hand wasn't going to argue. "So before they lived happily ever after, the woman and her man were lying in the bed of furs that first night," she went on with her tale, "And she grasped the part of him that she wanted, pleased that it responded to her gentle touch after everything that he'd been through. He was reluctant, because he felt that he already owed her his life and he couldn't see why she would want to please him in this way. He was missing the fact that she liked him enough already to try to show him a little of the hope that she felt for them both, if they could make something out of it. And of course, he was also overlooking the fact that she liked his body and wanted to do this for them both, because she liked to do this, but she hadn't had anyone for her in a while." Cale looked at her face in profile, lit as it was by the light from the inlet damper, and to him, she was even more lovely in this light than he'd ever seen her. She stroked him slowly and smiled at the darkness in front of her, "They had their language issue, but she liked the sound of his voice as he protested a little bit, trying in his way to tell her that he didn't expect anything like this from her," Sylvia said as she propped herself up on her elbow to smile at him. "So she did something else to get her point across and she reached for a stick -- a piece of the driftwood that she'd found and was drying in front of the fire. She picked it up with a little smile and she waved it at him, threatening to beat the crap out of him for being such a big, dumb Viking. He shut up then and she put the stick down so she could do this," Sylvia said as she lowered her head and opened her mouth. Cale remembered that when they'd been lovers that summer, Sylvia had developed two very different ways to do this for him. She used the things that she'd been taught to do quite often, but there was also another way that spoke to him of the very first time that she'd ever done it. She was doing this now, loving him as though it was their first time. Her motions were tentative and even felt a little shy to him. She didn't move her head very much at all, but the way that she did move and the things that her tongue did told him much more than the other way could. Because of the way that his love life had always seemed to have gone, Cale was cautious in things such as this, never trusting himself to allow the thought that a moment such as this could mean very much, other than what it was. But he felt a strong and very strange sense of hope now as she moved her hand to caress his balls for a few minutes. She grasped him again and began to stroke him as she lifted her mouth and looked back. "We'll have to see what comes for us, Cale, but what I want from you now is that you put your hands on my head the gentle way that you used to. It always made me feel so good, and you were never forceful. I know how a man needs to feel that the woman that he's with will take what he gives. I'd never want to miss any of you anyway, but I like the way that it feels when you hold my head." She went back to it then and he watched as Sylvia lowered her head onto his abdomen, spread her knees as she lay on her side and he could see that she was masturbating. He groaned as she loved him and he listened to her soft sighs and gentle moans as they came from her nose. He remembered then, seeing her all those years ago in the very same spot where they were now. He ran his fingers into her hair and his other hand stroked her back. He also remembered that when they were like this, it was important to her that he didn't try to warn her as his release neared. He remembered that saying something then could actually take a lot away from this for her, so he smiled and enjoyed it and he was careful to groan out her name -- Sheelah at several points, in case it would help her at all. He didn't know if it did, but he heard and felt it as her orgasm came, a little and quiet one from what he could tell and it made him very happy, because he knew that it was what she'd have wanted then. His release came a few moments after he'd seen her thigh and knee stop moving and he just let it go for her. He knew that she knew it when he was close anyway and she moaned a little appreciatively as she worked at keeping it all. Sylvia crawled up to lie beside him then and she kissed him softly, "I don't know if you understand it, Cale, but you're very important to me. I just wanted to show you, that's all." Cale nodded to her, since he really had no words and he pulled her against him and pulled up the store-bought, artificial fur a little higher. "I -- I keep wanting to tell you that I love you," he said, "but I'm afraid that you'd disappear or get mad at me for assuming something." "You can tell me," she smiled, "We've just always been apart, that's all. I was so upset when we had to go our separate ways, and my grandmother came up to my room and she told me that she was happy that you and I had each other for the summer, but that for most, it never turned onto more than that. She could see how much I loved you and she was sorry for that. For what we shared, it was supposed to be the kind of parting where it had just run its natural course and wouldn't have been a big deal to either one. But it was to me. I was never much of a party girl, and I hardly ever dated anyone at university. I just didn't see the point, and they moved you around so much that I never knew where you were, and -- " She sighed, "Then we lost track and life swallowed us and swept us apart even further." "I never forgot you," he said quietly. She was silent for a moment and then she said, "I don't know what'll happen now, but I don't ever want to be in a position where I don't know where you are ever again." She kissed him again and closed her eyes. ----------------------- The next day was a whirlwind for them both as they looked after her horses and she gave the two riding lessons that she'd had booked that morning. After that, they loaded Rufus up and drove to town, where he took Rufus to a pet shop and bought him a collar and a thick, short heavy chain leash. A place like this wasn't one where Cale could just let Rufus go as he waited for Sylvia to see Penny so that she could begin to remake her life. When she was done, she walked out of the building and down the sidewalk a little lost in thought until she stood on the corner opposite the park where she saw that Cale was waiting for her with Rufus. All this time, she thought, and he still looked like that as he stood there while a mother with young children admired the dog and the gentle way that he allowed her little girl to pet him. The light turned green and she crossed the street to collect her men. She almost stopped right there in the middle of crossing the street when she realized what she'd thought. Sylvia shook her head with a smile to herself. She didn't know that would happen. She didn't know anything other than that Cale was there for her and she needed him to be. A Man on an Island Ch. 05 It wasn't a big stretch to see that lunch was going to be at least a little problematic with Rufus along, since there weren't exactly any restaurants or bistros which would allow a dog inside, so they stopped at the sub shop and Sylvia stayed outside with Rufus while Cale bought them their meals and they walked back to the truck and ate there. In the middle of that, Sylvia looked at him a little blankly for a moment and he asked. "Neither of us has a Christmas tree!" she exclaimed. Cale was about to say that it didn't matter to him. He hadn't had a tree at all the previous Christmas and has just spent the time at home alone. But he could see that it meant something to Sylvia, so he nodded, "We can get one at a tree farm that I know on the way home." He didn't appear to have noticed it, but Sylvia caught the way that he'd said it. Home. On the way home. She realized that she just liked the familiar sound of it. "Ok," she said, "I'm looking forward to being with you for Christmas, Cale. That's ok, right?" "Yeah," he said, looking a little surprised, "I guess that I assumed that you would be. I know that I'd love that." The actual deed was a lot of fun and nonsense with Rufus along, but the tree lay tied neatly in the bed of his truck while they sipped hot chocolate before heading back. "I'm actually starting to enjoy Christmas," she smiled at him, "I'm amazed. My first thought was that I wouldn't be anything but miserable, so I'd just ignore the whole thing. Thanks for that, Cale. I've always loved Christmas." After that, it was back to the farm and there were more chores to be done, but the three of them finally drove to Cale's home after Sylvia raided her own refrigerator for the steaks that she'd decided they were having for dinner. As she marinated them, she handed him a pair of potatoes and he looked at her with raised eyebrows for a moment. "Well I don't need you to hatch them for me, Cale, they're for dinner, so I need you to wash them." He laughed and turned on the faucet. Over dinner, it was plain that the weather was closing in again as the snow began to blow, but none of them cared. They were used to it and it wasn't a thought to them. "We forgot the tree," Cale said suddenly, "I ought to get it out of the truck and lean it up against the house. We can take it to your place tomorrow." "Hell no," she said, "We're putting it up right here. This is where we're going to be this Christmas while I lick my wounds." "But I only have a few ornaments and I'm pretty sure that I lost the lights when I moved." "You leave that to me," she smiled, "Let's get that tree up so that it can fall properly." "I know what you mean," he said, "so that the branches can ease out and relax where we stand it." "Right," she grinned, "You do have a stand, right?" "Oh, probably," he said, "I hope." "Then let's find that first," she said, "You'll look silly holding the tree up while I drive to the store to buy one if we can't find yours." A half-hour later the tree was up, dripping a little from the melting snow. An hour after that, it was decorated with the few ornaments that Cale still owned and he was right about not having any lights. "I don't care," Sylvia smiled, "You just have to want lights." When he asked her what she'd meant, Sylvia became a little coy, "Let's just wait and see," she said, and he knew better than to push it, so he nodded vaguely. They ended up on the floor again, sitting like a couple of children admiring the tree as they talked. The wind picked up even more and Cale got that feeling again, so he broke out the foul weather lamps and lit them, but when he turned around, Sylvia was wearing his old sweatshirt again and nothing else. Cale got the hint and he gathered the cushions and the blankets. She had him out of his clothes in a minute before she looked into his curious gaze and smiled, "I dunno, Cale. I just want to be here with you like this. It feels really good to me." They traded a lot of quiet kisses for a long while and he kissed his way down her throat to her breasts where he spent a long time making her giggle as he nuzzled them. "They never amounted to very much," she smiled as she held his head to her breast, "They grew some that summer, and then that was about it." He groaned out a quiet sentence and she had to ask him what he'd said. "Once perfection is attained," he said in the voice of what he imagined a college professor to sound like, "nothing more is required." Sylvia laughed then, a really free laugh that surprised her and sounded so good to Cale. They went to sleep just like that, though Sylvia was amazed to find herself lying on Cale's chest when she awoke. She didn't move for a long while, just listening to him breathe and the way that his heart could make her head move just a little as it beat. She knew it when he woke up. His breathing changed then, but he didn't move for a long time. "Are we going to lie like this all day?" She asked and he chuckled a little, "Well that was my plan," he smiled, "I figured that if I just stayed like this, you'd get up and let Rufus out. But I've gotta do the same thing that he probably has to, so ..." He was about to ask her to move when he saw the large dog's head there above Sylvia's, looking down at him expectantly. She felt Rufus' breath on her ear and chuckled. "I'd have liked to just lie here with you for a little longer, but I'm pretty sure that right now, all of us need to pee, so I'll race you for the warm spot -- you get to take Rufus out, by the way." A Man on an Island Ch. 06 ***I feel as though I'm racing the clock and I know that this will be late for Christmas, but still ... I just wanted this part to carry a little romance and a touch of magic in a Christmass-y sort of way. I ought to mention that this is quite obviously a work of fiction - and to my knowledge, though Cu Sith as a phenomenon was known in Scotland for centuries here and there, there is no connection to the families mentioned in this, just as their slightly different way of looking at things is fictitious as well. Finally, to avoid confusion, 'Sylvia' is not her real name - it's only something anglicized. Her name is Sile, which is an old form of Sheelah. Cale learns pretty quickly that she likes to hear that from him in a private moment. 0_o ------------------- Cale found her back in the place where they'd slept as he came back in with Rufus and she was smiling a little smugly with the fur up to her chin, but she looked surprised when he went right on by. "Where are you going?" "To the bathroom," he said with a bit of a shrug. "Well I'd have thought that you'd have just done what Rufus did," she said, "You're a man. Shit, if I could suddenly pee standing up like you guys, I think I'd spend the first two days drinking gallons of tea just so I could laugh my ass off while I peed like that to write my name in the snow." He laughed at the thought of it in his mind before he said, "I want to brush my teeth. Hey, do you want to use my toothbrush first?" "No," she said airily, "I washed it off and used it already. Then I washed it again. You don't mind, do you? I was pretty sure that you'd be ok with it." "That's fine," he chuckled, "I don't mind. Besides the horses, what have you got on the go today?" "I want to go see my Gramma at the home. She gets lonely there over with my parents in Florida all winter." "Can I come?" he asked from the top of the stairs and speaking with a toothbrush accent, "I didn't know that she was still alive. I'd love to see her." "Sure," Sylvia said, "I wasn't going to give you a vote. There's family business to tell of. If I didn't go see her the first chance I got, I'd be looking at nothing other than quickly souring milk for the next month." She stared at him with a sweet smile as he came back to her. "I didn't think right away," she said, "I've only just noticed that you were outside like that in just your pants and boots." He took the clothing off and was back against her before she could see a possible downside and she fought against him laughing as he held her tightly to him, "Christ, you're as cold as a grave and you pull just as strongly." "Sorry," he grinned as he moved away a little, but she was on him then, "I didn't tell you not to, did I? I'm used to it now." "Not that I'm complaining," he smiled, "But it's almost daylight out there and there are these horses over the hill and I think it would be better to see to them before they figure out that you're here and hike on over to remind you." "Yeah," she nodded, "and at least three of them are bright enough to do it, too." "Hey, if we're going to the home, I probably ought to shave." "No," she grinned as she rubbed his cheek a little, "I kind of like it and you're on vacation. Besides, Gramma won't mind a man looking like what he is. She's always been someone with a lust for life, and she thinks that the world would be a better place if we all just remembered what we are. She'd be the first one to make a quiet comment under her breath about the behaviour of ... well for example, a woman who acts like a slut to excess by her actions -- but when that woman is in a quiet place with her man, she'd have even more to say if she acted as though she wasn't anything. Men are men, she'd say, and women ought to be women. In her view, there's a time and a place for being the way that we were intended to be. She'd tell you that everybody would get along a whole lot better if they got laid more." He sighed, "You know, I've always like her. How do you think that she'll take the news about you and Paul?" Sylvia laughed, "You might as well get used to something about us." She lowered her voice as though what she wanted to say was a big secret or something like that, "If you get us all together in a room -- Gramma, my Mom, Siobhan and me, we'll all drive you nuts. If we're having tea, and Gramma wants the cream, she'll say, "Could you please pass me the -- " She won't finish the question because she won't need to; the rest of us will all know what she means and someone will hand it over while you're still waiting and eager to get her what she never asks for. That's our way. That's the way that all of the women in my part of the family have always been. I'm not the only one who feels things. Oh, I'll bring it up because it's better that I do it before she does, but trust me, Cale, if I know my grandmother at all, she already knows." ------------------------ The old woman looked up from her book in a little disbelief as they walked in. "Hi Gramma," Sylvia smiled, "I've brought you a playmate." Sylvia's grandmother laughed then, "Oh I wish that were true. What I'd want to do to a man like him -- why it just wouldn't be proper. It'd be a lot of fun, though." She was more than twice Cale's age at eighty-seven, yet her aged eyes were clear and they still shone and twinkled the way that he remembered her. She sat up a little and held out her hand, "Well, I must say that you've turned into something remarkable, Cale Taylor. Sile told me that you were living on our land and in the old house by the stream. It does me good to know that you're there. That old place as seen a lot of living, you know. I hear that you've got it starting to look respectable again." She nodded once, "I might decide to stick around long enough to see it come the summer." Cale smiled, "All of the living causes me a few little problems with some decisions. The stairs are worn, but they're made of such thick wood that I doubt they'll wear out in my lifetime. All the same, they've got grooves from the passage of so many generations of feet going up and down. Part of me wants to refinish them, but in a way, I'm really rather proud of them like that, so I'll probably never do it." "You suit yourself," she smiled, "all that I need to hear is that you're taking care of my granddaughter." The statement caused Cale a little trouble, because he didn't know what was meant, or if it was her mind wandering. "I'm sorry," she smiled as she saw his confusion, "What I wanted to say was, are you doing what you can for her, now that her useless bag of shit husband has lost her?" "He's doing just fine, Gramma," Sylvia said to help Cale past this, "I'm sure I'd be a wreck without Cale. He seems to know what I need, whether it's to talk or just to get out of the house." "Well I've always liked you, young Mister Taylor, sir," the old woman grinned, "from what I see before me, you just be what she needs for her and I'm sure that you'll both be better off for it, I dare say. If I'd known what would come out of the summer that you worked for us those years ago, I'd have made a few changes, I can say. But things are the way that they needed to be, or my great-granddaughter would never have been born." She looked up, at him, "For a young summer lover, you've made quite a mark, Cale. Now it's your time to be what you both should have been all along." Before Cale could get his jaw to shut, she looked out of the window, "Would you mind walking me outside, Sile? I find myself wanting to have my cigarette of the afternoon, and I think there's someone else." "Come on, Gramma," Sylvia smiled, "I'll get your coat and you can meet him." Cale found himself wondering how Sylvia's grandmother could know the things that she obviously did, but after helping her into her coat and beginning the walk to the door, she turned to him, "Well, what the hell do you think it means to call someone a wizened old fart?" On Sylvia's suggestion, Cale walked on ahead and by the time that old Mrs. Mac Domhnaill got her afternoon cigarette lit, he was walking over from the parking lot with Rufus. She stared for a moment as they approached, "So there is Cù Sìth once again. In all of my life, I've seen them so often, but this is closer than I've ever been to one of the Black Dogs." Rufus sat down then and waited, looking pleased to be out of the truck. "I don't think that he's really Cù Sìth," Sylvia said, "He's just adopted Cale, and he seems to like me as well. He can leave the land, Gramma. We've brought him to town before. He won't hurt you, so you can pet him if you want." She held out her hand and Rufus held still, looking very happy to meet the woman whose old hands tousled his head. "Oh, he's Cù Sìth alright, or near enough" she smiled, "I can't believe that I'm touching one of the hounds. Look at his eyes, Sile. You'll see it there before anywhere else. Cù Sìth runs again, and I hope that I'm wrong, but I think it's so because he knows that he'll be needed." She looked up at Cale as she spoke to her granddaughter, "Has it been decided between you?" Sylvia looked a little uncomfortable as she spoke in a quiet voice, "I want it to be, Gramma, but I'd rather that it not be spoken of here with him listening and all. I'm already afraid that he'll think I'm crazy." "Look here," the old woman said to Cale, "I think you already know that we're just a bit on the different side. I don't think that it'll change anything and it's not something big anyway." She looked at Rufus once again as though what she saw might influence what she'd say next while her granddaughter looked uncomfortable. "Have you noticed that she seems to know things for no reason?" Cale smiled, "You mean more than any other woman that I've ever known? Yes. Why?" "Why?" the old woman smiled, "Because it's me who's asking the questions here, that's why, Cale Taylor. Well it'll get worse, you mark my words. By the time that she gets to my age, folks might wonder what it is that she talks to the squirrels and the chickadees about so much, though they never know that they answer truthfully about the weather. I want to know if that would bother you then, that's all." "No," he replied, "not if she's still talking to me as well." The old woman smiled then and she nodded, "Then I think that's the way that it'll be. But there are a very few things that she ought to be teaching you, if you'd want to know her love the way that she's hoping that you do. It's not much, but it's what we are and always have been. If you want a woman like Sile to grow old next to, then you listen as she teaches you. It'll do you no harm." She turned to her granddaughter and took her hand, "As I did for you before, I do for you again, Sile. You ought to begin this very night -- it's almost Grianstad an Gheimhridh and half a dozen other feasts as well to mark the solstice. Begin before then, and -- " The rest was spoken in Gaelic and Sylvia blushed, but she nodded. After speaking some words to Rufus in the same tongue, the old woman was ready to go back inside, after she kissed Cale's cheek. When she came back to the truck, Sylvia looked embarrassed, so Cale decided to say nothing. They didn't speak for a while until she turned to him and said that if he wanted, he could believe that her grandmother was slipping a few gears. Cale shook his head, "I don't think that's what I saw, but I know that you're feeling very uncomfortable now, so I don't want to talk about it. I'd much rather go for a coffee." She nodded her thanks and took his hand to hold after he started the truck and put it into gear. At the drive-through window, Rufus was a huge hit as he stuck his head out at the servers in the window. Cale bought them something to eat and he included a gingerbread Santa Claus for Rufus in his order. Cale pulled away from the window and found a parking spot. With a little careful prying, he worked the sugared icing off and broke the cookie into pieces so that their large friend could have something to take his mind off what they were eating as their conversation went in different directions. "She wants us to be together," Sylvia blurted out in the middle of a conversation about horses, and Cale almost spilled his coffee. She looked as though she instantly regretted the remark, but he just smiled a little. "I know that," he said with a little nod, "I also know that though she tried to be as indirect as possible, she felt that she had to stress some sort of urgency that I don't understand at all. I'm just bothered that you're feeling ashamed over it. The rest?" He laughed a little, "Way over my head, so I'd much rather that we forget about it." She shook her head, "Thanks, but she meant that she sees us ... well as a couple, and she was just saying that the timing is lousy, because of the time of year. Gramma means that now is one of the best times to start, but we're not there yet and that I should tell you more about things. She says that I'm running out of time -- unless I wait till Imbolc at the beginning of February." Cale shrugged, "I don't care, Sheelah. As long as we start sometime -- that's what I'd like." She had to put her coffee into the cup holder. "What -- what are you saying. Cale?" "That I love you," he said, "the timing is up to you. I'll be here for you anyway. I heard your Gramma. She has some reason to think that it's what ought to be. I don't know any more than that, but I can see that I've got a chance to be in love with the girl that I knew a long time ago. You choose the time, I'll be here." She took his coffee to put it into the other cup holder so that he wouldn't end up wearing it and she would have jumped into his lap if it weren't for the center console of his truck, but she held onto him so tightly and she kissed him until ... She opened her eyes and saw the looks of the people in the next car and she groaned, "Crap. Mrs Ouellette is parked right next to us." "So?" Cale asked, "I'm not kissing her. In fact, I refuse to. I -- " "Roll your window down, Cale," she said as she let go of him and eased herself back down into her seat, "I ought to try to fix this. We're not kids anymore." Cale hit the button and the window slid down, "Sorry about that, Genevieve. This is Cale Taylor. We used to be sweethearts a long time ago." The woman smirked, though there wasn't a lot of disapproval there, "Well if any of my old flames looked like that, I guess I'd probably do the same thing. But aren't you -- " "I'm separated," Sylvia said, "and I'm thinking of trading up," she said with a smile. The woman laughed and reached for her ignition key, "Well have fun with the road test then, and a Merry Christmas to you both as well." A moment later they were alone and burst out laughing together. "Well, it'll be all over town in about an hour, I guess," Sylvia said, but then she looked at Cale, "But I don't really care." "Hey, that stuff that your grandmother was talking about ..." He began with a quizzical look. "It's not much of anything," Sylvia said, "other than her hope for you and I -- mixed in with a lot of her view of people in love and the way that we are. But she's not some wild fey woman living in the Highlands herself. She grew up here the same as me. And we're not livestock or forest creatures, Cale. We're people, living here and now. What she was talking about is that she wants us to be together and make the best of it, that's all. But the other part of what she was talking about is that I tell you what I am -- which is really a woman who hasn't forgotten a lot of her family's traditions. But really, for now, all I want is that you be my boyfriend again, Cale." ------------------------------ The fire in the stove burned brightly and the wood crackled as Cale sat on the couch looking out of the window over the moonlit snow. Rufus was a little way into his own personal Heaven as he gnawed on the biggest rawhide chew that they could find for him in town. Cale looked at a pair of old large and rough pottery cups on the table and the big bottle of mead that they'd found in the liquor store. He heard the crinkly sound of cellophane from the downstairs bathroom where Sylvia had been having a bath. "What are you doing?" he asked. She laughed, "I'm unwrapping my new toothbrush. And you know what it means if a woman finds a place for her toothbrush, don't you?" "I think that it means that she'll know where it is the next time that she wants it." he chuckled, "or is there some tradition to this?" "No," she laughed, "It means that I've moved in." She came out of the bathroom in a very simple dress and Cale sat transfixed. The dress looked to be made of a roughly woven sort of burlap and he hoped that it was softer than that. She wore a little simple jewellery in the form of a metal bracelet and a necklace of large wooden beads. Around her waist, a belt or girdle was wound, also decorated with perfectly round wooden beads. Sylvia wasn't looking at him as she tied the last of the rough braids together at the end. Her long blonde hair was tied in a long and thick braid at the back and she was finishing up with the second of the pair which hung down from her temples and still reached to her breasts. Satisfied, she looked over at him, "What, Cale?" "Nothing," he smiled, "You've always amazed me, that's all. Seeing you like that, I'm amazed all over again. You're so lovely." "Well if I've got you as mesmerized as all that," she chuckled, "then what are you doing on the couch? I'd think that by now, you'd know where to be for me. And thank you, by the way." "I called in to the shop," he said as he got to the floor, "There are no big jobs on at the moment and the boss is about losing his mind looking at all the guys who are standing around, doing little things like cleaning up and straightening the shelves for the fittings. That's one of the reasons that I like to take a week of vacation at this time of year before Christmas. It gets me out of sight and out of mind for when he starts to think about having too many guys around and maybe laying a few off. I asked him if it was ok to just stay out, unless he needs me all of a sudden and take it as an unpaid leave. Timing is everything," he laughed a little, "and he agreed in a heartbeat. So I'm all yours for uh, ... whatever, and so on and like that." "Ah," she smiled a little enigmatically, "the acolyte awaits to begin his training. Ok, put all of the cushions here and here and open that big bottle. We're not going to be drinking a lot of that to begin." "Then why --" She laughed in that sweet way of hers and she just said, "There are times when it's the best thing to do to just humor me." She went into the kitchen and returned with a clanking sack in one hand and a platter of finely chopped bits of apple and shredded dried peach and apricot. From the bag, Sylvia produced a variety of items and laid them out on the table. "Please get a broom and a dustpan, and if you say a word about me riding it, ..." Cale smiled and shook his head as he walked to the broom closet in the kitchen. When he came back, she pointed at the old Persian rug in front of the woodstove, "Now pull that back and out of the way. Don't get too wild with it, but I want the floor underneath swept clean, ok?" He nodded, beginning to see some sort of connection between all of this and what lay under that rug. By the time that he had it swept, Sylvia came from the bathroom with a dampened cleaning rag and she dropped it onto the floor as she hitched up her simple dress and got to her knees to wipe the area of any dust before she left with the rag and washed her hands. "Take off your socks and get out the ash shovel," she said, "I'm going to need a couple of hot coals." A Man on an Island Ch. 06 He watched as she poured the contents of the mead bottle into an ancient-looking pot and, consulting an old school notebook, she added the fruit and some spices to the mead, saying quiet words to herself in Gaelic. She pushed a metal pan toward him and asked him to set it on the flat top of the stove. "Put two or three glowing coals in a heap in the middle of this, please. No more than that, and they have to be hot ones from the bottom or we'll smoke the place out." He stared as she handed him a spotless old black iron poker, "This goes into the hottest part of the fire in the stove. This is a very old family tradition." Cale took it and placed it in the center of the flames before he looked at Sylvia a little nervously, "Is this some arcane ceremony which involves branding the boyfriend or anything like that?" She tilted her head with a mischievous and coy little smile, turning her face just a bit in a melodramatic way, "Why? Would you want something like that?" "Uh, ... " he looked as though he was considering it for a moment, " ... ah, no." Sylvia laughed as she rolled her eyes, "I'm preparing mulled mead, you twit. Sorry if I had you worried for a minute there." "Oh thank God," he sighed in an overdone expression of relief. She knelt on the floor looking so mysteriously beautiful to him as she set the pot onto the holder that she'd placed over the pan and then she sat back and asked him to sit behind her and hold her while the mead warmed. When he had his arms around her, she sighed as she looked at the tree in happiness. The room was dark, except for the light from the stove door, and the way that it lit her face made him feel the way that he had long ago, happy and knowing his luck to be in the heart of a girl like her. He leaned around the side of her head as she pressed it back against him and he kissed her as she turned to receive it from him. But that was when he saw it. Cale stared a little as he looked into her eyes. They were shining in her happiness and that made it easy to see that the tree was sparkling a little in the almost blackness where it stood. He looked at the tree and he could just make out its dark shape, but when he looked at the reflection of her eyes again, he saw that it was dimly lit by a few tiny, tiny pinpoints of light. "What am I seeing?" he asked and she shrugged, "Your happy recycled girlfriend?" He looked at her eyes again and the pinpoints of lights were gone as she reached up to pull his head to hers and she kissed him slowly for a minute before she looked at the poker in the fire. "I think it's time," she smiled. He let her go to get up and she pulled the poker out of the flames with an oven mitt on one hand as she produced a wet dish cloth and quickly wiped the ashes off with a lot of hissing steam. He watched as she considered it carefully, "It has to be hot, but not too hot." With an unintelligible phrase, Sylvia plunged the poker into the mead and stirred it before she let it rest against the side and with a ladle, she poured them their mead. "Here's to us," she nodded as she raised her cup and he echoed it. "So," she smiled at him over the rim of her cup, "Are you ready for the big secret?" Cale nodded and she laughed softly, "I'm in love with you all over again. But," she sighed heavily for a moment, "I suppose that you need to be told all about what you'll get if we decide this. I'm a woman. That's about it Cale, other than I'm driven by my heart, pushed by it pretty much like any other woman is. The only difference is that sometimes, I push back with hope that I focus with some old words to guide my thoughts. I could blather on about the nearness of magic and how it can be bent a little to suit one's needs if they know how, or I could prattle and rant about how at certain times of the year, like Samhain or Belthane the otherworld is often only the thickness of a hair away from this one, but I don't think that matters anyway. I don't fry up frogs and eat the toes off a newt or something stupid like that. I have some old books, but what's in them are not spells, they're mostly ways to channel hope and little else. It's all about quiet hope in here," she pointed to her chest, "the same as anybody else. If you think that you want a slightly nutty old farm girl to keep you warm at night, well then I want you next to me from now on. That's all that I'm saying. That's all that there is to me." "That's the girl that I want," he smiled, "I didn't think you were some enchantress -- I mean besides the way that you can make me stop in my tracks when I see you sometimes and most of those times, you don't even know that I'm there. I am a little curious about the floor here, though," he pointed, "As I remember it, there was a circle here before, and we usually ended up lying on it when we fooled around every time. I never knew what it was for and it was only a line then. When I bought the place from your family, I found it like this, a groove carved into the wood as though it was done with one of those wood burning things or a big soldering iron from the 1930s." "It's a circle," she shrugged, "I guess that some would call it a magic circle or a circle of protection. If you need the history lesson, that year when we waited for you to come here to work for Dad, my Mom and Gramma took me aside and told me that this was the place to begin with you because it was quiet and we wouldn't be disturbed here. There's a lot of love in this old place, and that made it the perfect spot for us. I always loved the way that we'd just pull each other down in the long grass or lie naked by the stream, but this was the starting place for all of what we had. My Gramma never thought that I'd do much more than use it to begin as she taught me to do, but I came here about once a week -- even in the winter if I could get here on my horse through the snow. That was my mistake," she smiled, "it was something that I wasn't supposed to do more than once or twice. But I knew that I'd love you the way that I did, so I came back over and over to do it again, saying the hope that was in my heart. After we had to split up, I still came back. I've been coming back all these years. I loved my husband, even when he showed me that he was an asshole at worst and nothing like Cale Taylor at best, but I came here to think and to remember you and what we had and try to send you some of my warm thoughts to keep you safe as I hoped." She looked down at the old planks for a moment. "I guess I just wore it in pretty deep over all of that time." He looked at the groove again. The old wood appeared to be burned black along that one line. The outer edge was more or less a straight line from the level of the floor to the bottom of the groove and inch or so below. But the inner edge wasn't an edge at all. It was a slope from the floor to the bottom of the groove and Cale was trying to think of how this had been done. "How?" She smiled, "I can show you how, and if I can get my courage up a little, I can even show you everything that I did then. But I need to know something in exchange. I'd never show much of anything to an outsider. It's just not ever done. Things like that are easily misunderstood and though there are no trials anymore and a lot of people try to practise this, no true wise one shows these things to anyone, really." She smiled, "I came here alone all of those times but there were a couple of times that I wasn't alone here. I'd see Cu Sith now and then watching me from the woods across the stream, but he never came inside where I was, and he never did more than watch a little. I like it think that it was to keep me safe and undisturbed and by the way, he didn't look like Rufus there, though I think that I can see a lot of Cu Sith in Rufus. So I think that I'd like to know what it is that you want, Cale. Is it me? If you tell me that you want me, then I'll be happier than a witch in a broom factory, as the joke goes. I want you Cale. I want you back." She stepped forward and put her arms around his waist, "There was a feeling that I had when we were together even if we weren't in the same place. It'll sound a little silly, I'm sure, but back then, I felt as though you were somebody -- obviously, and that I was somebody's woman. It wasn't the sort of foolishness that a girl carries in her heart, it was the truth and it was how I felt at the same time." She looked at his shirt, "If we lived in a simpler time, there would have been no university for me to go to. We could have just lived our lives. But that's not how it was for us. Since I've had that feeling last, a lot of our lives have gone by. I've been someone's girlfriend, someone's lover, and for a long time now, I've been Paul's wife until a few days ago." Cale watched as her eyes lifted to look at him. "But none of that was the same thing as what I'd already had when I had you. I want that back now. We have a chance. I want to feel like Cale's woman again. So if that's the kind of feeling that you want to have again, then tell me, and I'll show you everything. Do you want your woman back?" Cale put his arms around her and he kissed her softly for a moment. "In the way that we measure time," he said, "you and I were a couple of kids who helped each other grow up over the course of a few months. But it never felt that way to me. In a lot of ways it felt like a lifetime and only an instant. I wanted to go on working for your father if it would mean having you when the summer was over and just going on." He smiled a little sadly, "But of course that wasn't possible for us. We're here now, Sheelah; right back where we began. I've been accused of being a lot of things -- including stupid, and there have been times when I might have agreed. But I have you right here against me with the chance you spoke of. Well I want to take that chance with you. I was only curious about how you wore a groove into this floor. I'd like to know how, but that's not the most important thing to me. You are. So yes," he smiled, "I do want my woman back." She looked up at him and her eyes were shining again, "Then you have me and I have you and it is important how it was done and I'll show you why." She hugged him tightly and kissed him before she let go to turn away and step to the wall. After looking a moment, she pulled the hem of her dress up a bit and held it there by tucking it under her belt. Cale watched as she found little recesses in the wood that he hadn't thought of and she climbed up the wall for a few feet to place her hand onto the hidden ledge on top of it. A moment later, Sylvia pulled a cloth bag to her which had lain unseen there for years. It was made of heavy canvas and it had a sling which she slipped her arm through before she climbed back down. She laid the bag down and shrugged, "My toys, some of them, anyway. I haven't been here to do this since you came to live here, and I was obviously not going to try to retrieve them after you moved in. Could you get us a couple of blankets and fold them up? I'd like them in the middle of the circle for later. Then I think that we'll need to get our clothes off, if you want to begin tonight." While Cale set about doing as she'd asked, Sylvia began to undress. After setting the blankets down, he looked at her and saw that she was winding the belt back onto her waist and it puzzled him. "There are many ways to follow the old paths, "she said, "Good ways, bad ways, and other ways. A lot of this shares some commonality with the um, neopagan practices of Wicca. Well it ought to, they are a lot alike." She indicated the belt and said, "My cingulum. I used this to measure out the circle the first time, since it's nine feet long exactly -- three times three. For most things, I'd use it for the circumference, but for this one, I used it for the diameter since I knew that I'd need the room." With the girdle re-tied, she removed a thin rod of black wood from the bag, slightly tapered and as straight as an arrow, and with a flourish, it became twice as long as it was when she'd pulled it out the second before. Cale blinked, but said nothing. From the floor, it would have come to the top of her shoulder now. "What would I be without a wand?" she smiled. She removed two blades -- one looked a little like a sword with a black grip, and the other carried a whitish haft and had a curved blade like a portion of a ring maybe six inches in diameter. This was the one that she held on to as she stood up. "Now sit on the folded blankets, if you could and hold your knees to your chest. I need a bit of room since I'll be walking around you." Cale was fascinated now and he hugged his knees as she stepped to stand in the circle, choosing her place with great care. "You can't say anything now, alright?" He nodded and she began to walk around him, staying inside the whole time. Cale listened as she began a chant using words that he didn't understand at all. It was very even and steady and it was spoken in time with her steps. She held the knife in her left hand and the wand in her right. He said nothing, but he counted her laps. When she reached the ninth time around, Sylvia flicked the wand so that her index finger was at a point about one-third from the end nearest her body. That end lay along the underside of her arm, the tip at about her elbow, and the other tip of the wand was placed into the groove. Sylvia walked on, still chanting to herself as she dragged the tip along the groove and Cale saw how it was that the inner side of it had been beveled. He said nothing, but he still kept the count in his mind and when she reached a total of eighteen, she kept right on walking, but he stared as he saw the groove begin to smoke a little where the tip of the wand passed. There was no flame, and the smoke faded from sight just after the tip had passed it by. When she'd gone twenty-seven laps, she stopped and looked at him. "Do not leave the circle," she said quietly, "but stand up and spread the blankets. It's alright if a corner falls outside the circle. This isn't any nasty ritual or anything. This is just a girl and a boy together who have a hope for themselves, just as we used to be. When you have them laid out, then kneel down someplace near the middle." When that was done, Sylvia knelt behind him and set her things down before she hung her arms over his shoulders and hugged him with her head next to his. "A person like me lives a little closer to the otherworld than most people, that's all. That's really the only thing that's different. Here with me, I'm trying to get you to see what I see. Look at the tree." Cale stared. The tiny points of light were back. It was subtle if anything, but to his eyes, there were little bright dots here and there in the boughs. They didn't light anything but themselves for the most part, but the tree looked amazing to him. "What are they?" he asked. "Little things," she whispered, "They came with my family from Europe and they stayed here. I don't know if it's the right thing to call them, but I've always thought of them as pixies. If you touch the tree at all, they'll go out. Haven't you ever seen them here? Not all together like this, but haven't you ever seen a little pinprick of dim light in a dark corner for a moment?" "I think I have," he whispered, "but whenever I really try to see what it is, they're not there and I wonder if I'm seeing things." "Well you are," she smiled, "they're kind of like house faeries. We say that it brings luck to have them in your home. This is about as much as you'll ever see of them. Look at Rufus now and see Cu Sith in him." She was right. Rufus was asleep on the couch -- since no one had told him not to be there. But Cale saw another animal there in him. As he looked, Rufus woke and raised his head, and in that head, Cale saw another, much wilder-looking face for the moment that Rufus looked and then he put his head down and groaned, after heaving a loud sigh. "He's not Cu Sith," she said, "But I think that Rufus might have been sired by him. He's a huge, but I'm sure that he's a regular dog, though I can see that he has some of the things that the Black Dogs have always had in them." "What happens if I step out of the circle?" he asked. Sylvia shrugged, "Nothing. But you lose the sight of what you see now the instant that you place any part of your body outside the circle. The tree will be dark to your eyes and Rufus will look as he always does. We'll do this again at other times when there will be more for you to see. Just enjoy this with me now," she said as she snaked her head around to kiss him. "So that's what you did when you came here all those times, watch the little lights? I know I'm over-simplifying on purpose, "he said. She smirked, knowing that he was looking for a polite way to ask. "No," she said, "I came here and renewed the circle so that I could express my dreams and hopes in privacy and safety while I sought to make it real. And of course, "she smiled at the floor boards suddenly rather shyly but wanting to be honest with him at the same time, "I frigged myself like crazy every time." He stared at her with a crooked little smile, "All year 'round? Even in the winter?" She nodded, "Maybe it shows my want, but yeah, even in winter." She shivered at the memory as she moved his hand to her breast, "Ice cold fingers down the front of an old snowmobile suit. How serious is that?" -------------------- They were on their sides, Cale lying behind Sylvia with his arm around her. "So that's pretty much it," she said, "though I can make up a pretty good ointment out of pig's fat and a few herbs." She felt him hardening against her backside and she chuckled a little as she pressed back against him. "Ooh," she smiled back at him, "that feels nice. Did I say a word that does something for you? Please tell me that you don't have a fetish for pig's fat. I suppose that I could live with that, but it would be pretty smelly." "I don't have any fetishes," he said, "other than the one that I've always had for a girl that I knew who loved to walk in a meadow in the summer. She's the one who first enchanted me. I remember a few days when I'd actually get your father to run out of things for me to do. At the time, I took that to be a huge accomplishment and I was proud of myself for it." He smirked, "It only came to my mind a few years later that there could never possibly be times like that -- when everything is done for the moment on a farm like that. I realized then that your father was cutting me a break so I could see you. He'd motion toward the hills where you liked to walk in a vague sort of way and mumble something about having seen you go that way a little earlier. "You can take the small tractor if you like," he'd say to me, "Go and take her a can of soda." She looked at him and he could see that she was remembering, "But you never came on the tractor," she said. "That sounds strange. Dad was always so tight with the fuel." "I know," Cale smiled, "his reasoning was that if I took the tractor, then I'd be back a little sooner. But I didn't think that you'd like to have me hunt you with a tractor, banging and clanging over the hills like that and I was also a little afraid that I might break something and he'd kill me then because he needed the small tractor more than the big one. Besides, I might have been just a city kid working on a farm for the summer, but I knew that no girl wants to see anybody coming for her on a tractor -- not when there are horses on that farm. So I'd ask if it was ok to take the big draft mare. He thought it was 'high-larious' as he used to say sometimes, and he told me that she'd only kill me and mash me into the ground with her hooves to prove that she could, but he had to give me the point when I rode past after getting her to take the bridle. He said that only his father had ever been able to ride her. She loved to be hitched up in a team with her sister and if your old Da gave them the word, they'd rip out a mountain for him, but I think that she liked it when we'd go to look for you. She never wandered far when we were in that little place where we'd go. A Man on an Island Ch. 06 It took me a little while to find you the first time," he said with a warm smile, "But I'll never forget how you looked when I found you." Sylvia chuckled as she reached back to lift her haunch for him, "I remember," she smiled, "I'd been watching you as you rode here and there looking for me. Since you weren't riding hard, I knew that it wasn't an emergency or anything, and I just liked looking at you. I was in a bit of tall grass and walking through it and then I just ... well, I just gave in to what I'd been feeling all morning, so I took off my clothes and stepped out of the little dell that I was in when I heard you coming back toward me. I didn't want you to give up." He began to press himself against her and she matched his movements, loving the way that it felt to have him rub that thing there. He was grazing past both of her openings and she was already so wet for him that they were slick in no time. "I think my heart must have stopped when I saw you," he said, "Such a beautiful girl standing on a hillside meadow looking lost in thought and dragging the bloom of a daisy over her nipple." "I was daydreaming then, I guess," she said, "It wasn't until I noticed you there that I realized that I hadn't heard the old Marie's hoofbeats in a while." "It doesn't matter," Cale whispered as he kissed her softly, "I don't think that I was ever the same person after seeing that. I'd never seen anything like that or anyone so beautiful. The sun was a little behind you and it made your hair glow from where I was sitting. You were a little above me on the hillside and you hadn't noticed me yet so all that I could do was look at you. I couldn't have spoken to save my life. You dropped the daisy and reached back to untie your hair, and I could see that you were somewhere else in your thoughts." He groaned very quietly as she pushed back against him a little more. "I've known a very few women who keep their hair as long as you do and I've always compared them to you in my thoughts when I thought about hair that long being set free to fall around you with a little shake of your head. I couldn't have gotten off that mare in any other way than falling off." "Which you did, as I remember," she chuckled, "That was just after I noticed you not far off right there in front of me on that big old mare. I was thinking that this was it. I'd seen you looking for me and you had your shirt off because of the warm sunshine. I don't think I've ever seen any man look so good to me as I did then. You rode off out of my sight and I remember thinking that this was it -- that we were going to have our moment. I was surprised that I wasn't nervous at all. Up til then, I'd never been naked in front of anyone but a doctor one time, and that was only for a few seconds while she pointed to where the gowns were. Right then, I just knew that my Gramma, and Amy , and my mother were right. Everything had happened as they said that it would and I had the heart of the man that I loved in my hand. It was a bit of a moment for me. I wanted to be on that horse with you, naked and free as I was -- which would have been a bad thing to do, since I knew that my dad kept binoculars and a rifle for the coyotes. Where we were is out of sight of most of the farm. I remember that I couldn't think of a thing to say at first, and after laughing a little as you got up, I just walked over to hug you and kiss you one time, and then I said, "Come on," and I led you into that little dell. We didn't do much more than fool around and play a little, but I knew that I wanted to give you my virginity here that night, so I promised myself to you then. You looked like I'd just promised you the world and that was the first time that I had a boy lick me. I wanted to push you onto your back and start right then, but I knew the way that we had to begin, so I didn't and I just let you love me into a puddle right there in the grass." She raised her knee and moved away a little to improve the angle for them before she looked over her shoulder with a smile, "I'm your girl again from right now, Cale. Take me now, and this time, I'll never let you go anymore." He slid into her very slowly and they lay together looking at the tree and the flames in the stove. There was no sound, other than the slow and heavy breathing of Rufus sleeping there on the couch and the quiet crackling of the burning wood. "I'm in love with you again," he said in a whisper, "I don't think that I ever stopped somehow, I guess that it just got locked away where I kept my memories of you." "It doesn't matter anymore," she whispered back to him, "we have each other again." They were silent for a time, other than their breathing until she let out a little gasp. "I've just realized something, "she whispered, "When we're really quiet -- just a woman and her man doing what they're supposed to be doing like this, I can hear it. I can hear the little sounds of us fucking. I guess I've heard them with anyone else, but they ... I can hear them again." She reached back and held his head against hers, "One of the nicest little noises in the whole world to me." He reached around her and after a gentle hug, he grasped her and rolled onto his flank. She very nearly lost him, but she groaned as she moved down a little and he pressed into her again as she moved her leg over his. "I -- I lo-ove you, Cale," she moaned softly, "I'm yours an-d I'll al-ways want you. I always h-have." Cale grunted a little and then he said, "If there's something ... that you c-can do, then make it so... so that we have our time now. Th-that's what I want." Sylvia rocked her hips downward hard when she felt his hand on her belly, grasping her while his middle finger reached for her clit. It hit some switch in her and her own hand flew from his head to her breast to caress herself and she came with a cry that woke Rufus very briefly. He looked at them and lowered his head back down to the couch to watch for a time before his eyes closed again. "Don't stop, Cale, you sweet man," she groaned as she worked her hips for him, "Just fuck me. Just keep on fucking me." His lips were against the side of her neck, "I love you," he grunted, and she reached for his head again. "I'm your woman, Cale," she whispered, "I can feel it, so you just fuck me like we need you to. I'm dying to have your seed, it's been so long." She felt him harden right after that and she knew, "That's it, honey. Let it go in me, uh, uh, " Sylvia came again, though it wasn't as hard-edged for her as it had been the first time, and to her it was much sweeter and when she felt his thrust as he came, she smiled, "Oh, I love you Cale Taylor." She turned her head as far as she could and she kissed him as he groaned, "We're a little older now, but I'm sure that we were made for each other somehow. Ohhh, you feel so good." ----------------- "Aren't you going to take that belt off?" he asked with a smile a little later. "Nope," she said with a little grin, "I was, but you asked me to make this last between us. It's what I want as well, obviously, so I think that I'm working on it." The lights in the tree had faded away and there was only the light of the stove to illuminate the room in its flickering way, so Cale offered to get them more mead and she agreed and he found her sitting back on the blanket after feeding the stove a little and closing the door. He'd always had good night vision, but for some reason, right here and now, it seemed a little better and he just sat down and they smiled at each other as they drank a bit. She watched his eyes take her in and it made her feel proud to see that look in his eyes for her again. "I know what you're looking at," she smiled, "and you're the only man who's ever seen this. I'll never change anymore." Cale nodded, "Thank you, Sheelah." They were referring to the way that his semen was leaving her. There was only one man in the world who had ever been allowed to see this. With any of her few lovers in university, she'd just wiped it away the first chance she got -- usually making the excuse that she had to pee. Paul had actually told her that it grossed him out and so from that moment on, he'd lost a lot in her eyes that he was far too stupid to even know about. If it had come up before they'd gotten married, she'd likely have ditched him for only that one remark. But she knew that Cale loved to see it like this and she'd always felt a little proud right then. "A man needs to see that," she remembered her grandmother's lover, Amy tell her, "If he's a real man and he's worth something, then he'll not mind it if you leak it out. He'll like that, so if you find that you've got a man like that, don't you even try to get rid of it and if you need to, then don't you ever let him see you doing it. If he's been good for you, then unless he asks, you leave it right where it is, as messy and ticklish as it might get. If you want him to stay yours, it's one of the little things that you'll do for him. It's his mark on you for a time, and you be sure to let him see it and how pleased you are to have him loving you." At the time, Sylvia thought that her eyes would pop out of her head to hear that. She hadn't thought of it -- just what to do about the semen of a man running out of her after making love with him. But she'd taken the advice to heart and even if they'd done it over and over, she'd always let it seep and run and she'd only ever wiped it when they had to get back. "So we've begun," she smiled and he nodded back, "I want this to be like the least and most quiet of our nights together. It's a little symbolic to me, the way that I'm looking at it." "Really?" he grinned, "The least?" "Well, maybe not the least," she chuckled as she found herself looking at the way that he was hardening again before her eyes, "You lie back, Cale, and I'll drive." He thought that she'd want to get into the cowgirl position, but he was surprised when she placed her knees on either side of his head and leaned down to suck in him into her mouth. He reached for her lovely ass and she lowered herself over his face. ----------------------------- They'd banked the stove one more time and settled in together in the synthetic furs that she loved to sleep with him in. He'd asked her if they'd ever get to use his bed and she answered honestly that she didn't know, she liked sleeping with him this way so much. Sylvia woke up sometime in the early morning, long before dawn. Somewhat to her amazement, she found herself lying on top of Cale with her head against his, but turned away. She smiled to herself wondering how she'd managed that, and then smiled wider as she wondered how she'd managed to get this close to him again in the first place. She'd never have had the thought that it was possible until a few days ago. Now he was under her and they were beginning again. She didn't want to wake up, necessarily, but she lay there feeling pretty happy as she thought that she'd been given a gift in him. She focused a bit farther out in the darkness as she heard soft breathing out there. Rufus was lying very close to them. His wolfish eyes regarded her questioningly, and she heard his tail brush against the floor behind him twice as he recognized that she was awake. She was very careful not to disturb Cale, but slowly snaked her arm out from under the blankets and reached for her other close friend. He watched her hand approach, but only shifted his head a bit closer with the same friendly look. That look became one of happiness as she pet his head very softly and gently ran her fingers behind one ear. Sylvia felt as though she'd just accomplished something far greater in her life with the two of them than anything that she'd ever had with Paul -- other than give birth to their daughter, and it was a wonderful feeling. She felt as though she'd gained acceptance, the newest member of this odd little tribe and yet at the same time, she knew that she'd always belonged here. She smiled at the thought of them sleeping like this. For right now, this was the perfect way to sleep, she thought. The world could do as it pleased tonight. They had each other. She froze as she felt Cale's hand move. She was afraid to lose this moment. But his hand settled on her haunch, and that was another thrill because right away, it felt familiar and new at the same time. His thumb moved slowly, and she knew that he was awake. She heard him whisper simply, "Hi." "Shh, I didn't want to disturb anything," she whispered back. "Neither do I, I'm very comfortable with you here like this except for one thing." "Do you want me to move?" she was careful to keep her whispers as quiet as she could. She loved this mood and the moment. "No." She felt his hand leave her behind and he shifted himself and she felt that warmth behind her. "That's better," he said with a sigh, and she felt his hand return where it had been. She was going to ask him to put it back, how could he have known? She eased herself back a tiny bit until she felt herself touch him there, "It surely is," she smiled softly. After a minute, she began to push a bit more. Another minute of this, and she turned her head and kissed his throat. She reached back to adjust things, and her hand returned to stroke his shoulder. "I don't want to sound like an idiot, but what are you doing?" he whispered. "Shh, Cale." Her voice was a barely audible whisper against his neck. "Just something that needs to be. I want us together, but I want to see if we can do this without going nuts. I don't want to break this mood." She slowly inched back, painfully slowly for both of them, as she moved her knees forward very carefully one at a time, and quickly got him back into her the two times that he'd slipped out. She raised herself up a little at a time. They smiled at each other. He kept the blankets over her as much as he could. Sylvia groaned and shivered as she fucked so slowly and carefully, wanting to keep the stillness and the feeling that she had in her. She needed this, she told herself, and he needed this too. She clenched herself onto him as much as she could for a moment and then she chided him softly when he groaned quietly. "Not a sound, Cale, "she whispered, "Not a sound out of us like this. This is for love, Cale, and you always were the sweetest slow fuck that I've ever known in my life." She took his hand and brought it to her breast, "So this is for us and how I love you and though I'm not doing anything but wishing that my belt will bind you to me forever, it's a spell all the same and we're both doing it." After a long while like this, they agreed to move and were on their sides. To her, it was the perfect first night for them, and when he moved back to help her with his hand, she shuddered almost continually until she felt his contractions. Her eyes opened fully and she looked at him for only a moment as the sensation pushed her over again with a quiet cry. He groaned softly, and they were almost, but not quite still. Sylvia opened her eyes again, and found him looking at her with wonder and another look that she had never seen on any other man's face in her whole life but his. But she knew what it was, and sobbed as she pulled herself to him as tightly as she could. "Sylvia," he said softly, 'I love you so much." "Shh," she whispered, "I know. I saw with my own eyes. I saw it in your face. I love you too. Just hold me tight now. We were making our own magic, and I'd have to say that it worked." She was surprised to feel that he was still hard, "Hey, shouldn't that have given up by now?" Cale chuckled softly, "Maybe it can't believe its luck. It's been unemployed for a while until we began to fool around the other night..." She sighed, "Mine too." -------------------- The next time she woke, she was more on her back. Cale was still with her, but now he'd moved down slightly and was kissing her throat. She wrapped herself around him. "How long have you been doing this?" "A long time. I'm sorry I woke you. Should I stop?" She chuckled, "Not if you value your life, Cale." His free hand moved lower down, and after a few minutes, she groaned quietly in soft complaint as she felt his whiskers begin to tickle their way lower. She hadn't asked this of him. She smiled at him, knowing that she didn't need to. ---------------------- The third time that she awoke was different. She came to herself in an alarmed state. Everything in her, every molecule came alive with a sudden start. Where was he? "Cale?" she asked into the darkness there around her. She felt disjointed and so alone without him until she felt his arms and his hands on her back. Her vision cleared and she saw that her face was against his chest. He was shushing her, "It's ok, Sheelah. I'm right here. I never left you." Her mind cleared and she remembered now what he'd been doing. "I've never ... what happened, Cale? That was ..., but then ... did I pass out or something? Why am I on top of you now?" He smiled helplessly, "Which question am I supposed to answer first?" She grabbed him and rolled herself backward so that they were on their sides again, "Never mind, just hold me." ------------------------------ She opened her eyes and felt a cold blast just before the door closed. She could see him on the porch through the window as he whistled once. He was standing there in only jeans and his untied boots, and it was still snowing. Thinking back over the evening and night, she was still so astounded with him. She'd never met anyone like Cale when they were young. Now, he still astounded her so often. What kind of furnace did he have inside him to be able to keep her warm as he did, and then just walk out there without even a shirt? She just accepted it at that point - the guy was amazing, top to bottom. Come to think of it, his bottom was still pretty good too, she thought as she admired it. Rufus bounded onto the porch. Cale blocked the door, "Not like that, you don't. Go on, shake it off here." Rufus looked at him happily for a moment before shaking himself. Sylvia giggled as she saw Cale turn with a grimace while droplets of wet snow flew from the dog. "Thanks, pal. I knew I could count on you," he said as he opened the door and they came in together. Rufus saw that Sylvia was awake before Cale did, and trotted over. "Hi Rufie! How's my favorite furry person?" she said, and was shocked as the huge dog grinned at her before throwing himself down to land hard against her with his back. She recoiled from the cold wet that was still on his fur, "No Rufus! Ah! Stop!" It was no good. Rufus was overjoyed and rolled on his back against her, his nose digging into the blankets playfully with a loud snort or sneeze - she couldn't tell. He did this several times while Cale laughed at them both. Finally, Sylvia just gave up and threw her arms and one leg around him to hold him still. He was motionless for a second, and then snaked his head back to lick her face in joy. It was a hell of a way to wake up, she thought, but she found that she couldn't help laughing at the silly grin that she saw on his happy face. Cale took his boots off and walked over to kneel in front of the stove. A few pokes with a thin piece of kindling, and with a bit of newsprint and with more kindling, the stove began to respond. He closed the door and opened the damper wide before sitting down with her. He was about to wish her a good morning when his world turned over as Sylvia sprang onto him, riding him down onto a cushion. She rubbed her front against him to share the cold droplets that she was now covered with. She looked down at him, "Hi handsome! I've missed you so much!" "I was only gone a few minutes," he protested. A Man on an Island Ch. 06 She nodded, "And that's long enough to miss you so much." Back in the kitchen, she heard a hiss and looked over. "I've got water on for coffee. I was about to get some breakfast started for us." She nodded thoughtfully, "You've got a busy day ahead of you. No place to go, and an old girlfriend to do - um, a lot." He laughed, "Don't you want me to clear the driveway and take you places? You do still own horses." She grinned at him, "Hell, no!" He sighed happily, "Well as much as it hurts to say this, I'm gonna have to do some of it anyway. Sooner or later, Pete's gonna roar by with his plow again, and what's there from yesterday will just freeze solid if I don't move it, and then I'd need dynamite to get us out of here." Her face looked shocked at the realization of his words, "Oh my god! Why, we'd be stuck here till spring!" She kissed him hard, "I'm good with that." She nodded, "Yup." He pushed her back gently, "You're a pretty tempting sight, but I've gotta do some of it. You sit tight, Sylvia, I'll get you a coffee, and then I'll make breakfast." "No." She sounded petulant, "You get us a coffee, and after that, WE'LL make breakfast." She stroked his cheek, "Then you can do what you have to, but It's gonna be a big breakfast. You'll need your strength." They hugged each other, but that set off a tickling match and Rufus barked as he watched them. ----------------------------- There were three moments that day that let Cale know that his life was changing. The first came as he'd finished up a little cleaning around the house, and had gone outside to split up a bit of wood while Sylvia looked after her horses. Rufus was poking around in the trees when Cale heard him begin to growl, low down in his throat. It caught his attention because other than when they roughhoused around a little, Rufus had never growled before -- and certainly not like this. He hardly ever barked, and was silent most of the time. Cale walked out and stared at Rufus, who was looking at nothing other than the hill above Cale's home. There was nothing there but a hillside covered in snow, but the sound deepened and as Rufus lowered his ears while the fur on his back rose, it sounded as though it was in full stereo for a moment -- unearthly reverb and everything. Cale had never heard anything like it. A second later, Rufus was gone, bee lining it up the hill and baying once as he crested it and disappeared out of sight. Cale was mystified until he thought about what lay over that hill; a thin line of woods, a pair of white fences just like any horse farm tended to have, half a mile of pretty much open land -- and Sylvia's farm. He ran to his truck. -------------------- "You're going to let me into my own house," Paul snarled into his newly estranged wife's face, "I live here, and what the fuck was that yelling for? Have you taken up howling at the moon? You always were a crazy bitch." "This is not your house, Paul, and it never was, "she glared at him, "this belongs to my family." "Well, I'm taking half of it, along with everything else that you own," he grinned for a second, "Now get out of my way." "You're out on your ass," she said, "and this place is something that I don't own and never have." "Fuck off," he snarled, "I saw your signature on the loan for the company to get it started." "Thanks for reminding me," she glared back, "I'll have the papers drawn up so you can begin paying that loan back -- I'm calling that loan. You've never paid a cent. The signature that you saw was my grandmother's. She owns the farm, not me, and the horses belong to the farm as well. Her name and signature are close to mine, since she taught me to sign my name when I was little and I've never changed the way that I write it." There was a deep bark and a loud grunt as Rufus cleared the fence sixty yards away and landed on the near side of it running. Sylvia could hear his breathing from where she stood. "Cale's mutt has moved in," Paul sneered, "Are you fucking him now?" "Get off this land," she said as she pushed him back, hard enough for her strength to surprise him as she lowered her hands and looked at Rufus as he came, divots of heavy wet snow flying up into the air behind him, "You ought to be going," she nodded to Paul, "Right about now, before you look really girly while you run." "If he touches me, I'll be back with the cops and I'll have him put down," Paul said, looking more unsettled by the moment. "First of all, you have to be alive to do that." Sylvia held up her palm and Rufus stopped a second later and only stood watching from a distance away. "Second, he won't even come near you, asshole," she pointed around the porch, "They will." When he turned to look over his shoulder, the snarling chorus began. The dogs which surrounded him were larger than the one that Cale kept and they looked different as well. He saw a clear path to his car and he ran, the rising barks and growls spurring him. As he sat in the driver's seat trying to get his heart rate down, Cale pulled in. "Call your dogs off, Cale," he yelled as the window slid down a little. Cale looked at him, "What dogs? I only see one and he's right over there." "Are you fucking blind?" Paul shouted over the snarls of the pack which regarded him from around his car. It was obvious to him that they only waited and looked for a way to get to him, "What do you call them?" He asked as he tried to wave his arm at them all, but the nearest one lunged then and he just got his arm back inside in time. Cale looked every bit as perplexed as he felt, "Have you been drinking or something? There's only one dog and he's way over here. All I see is a guy yelling from his car. There's no dogs there, and no tracks, nothing. What the hell are you on, Paul?" He looked at Sylvia, who stepped out back out onto the porch and asked her if she was alright. She nodded," I don't think he is, though," she said as she held up her cordless phone, "I'm calling 911 before he hurts himself or something." Paul had to lean away as one of the black hounds tried to get his face into the opening of the window, "What do you mean, there's no dogs here? Can't you see them? Are you telling me that I'm imagining all the noise that they're making?" Cale shook his head, "All I see is a very upset man who's yelling at me. I don't think you ought to be driving, Paul. Why don't you get out and hand me the keys? Sylvia's calling to get you help. The paramedics will be here in a few minutes. Just relax. Ok?" "Fuck that," Paul yelled as he started the car and slid back down the hill to the main road, nearly driving into the ditch at the end of it. Cale watched as the car began to accelerate away. Sylvia walked to where he and Rufus stood, "Just keep him here," she said, "I'm sure that we'll get a visit from the police out of this and I want them to see that there was no pack of dogs when they look at the snow." -------------------------- When the cruiser pulled away, Sylvia found Cale looking at her in an odd way. She put her hands in her pockets and looked down, "You heard what I told the police. That was what happened before you got here. I had to defend the land and the farm, Cale. Rufus was a hit with the cops, just because he's so goofy and friendly. I just did what I had to, and of course, I didn't tell that part of it." "What was Paul looking at that I didn't see?" Cale asked as he stepped closer. She shrugged, "Just something that I suggested that he see. I've ruined everything, haven't I?" "Now why would you say that?" Cale asked as he put his arms around her waist, "I can understand it -- at least, I think that I can." He looked down at Rufus who'd decided that he wanted in if there were any group hugs in this. Sylvia pulled one hand out of her pocket and pet him. "He saw a bunch of Rufusses, - or Rufi, or whatever the plural form is, didn't he?" She looked up at him and nodded, "Not Rufus, but ..." "I can't really fault you for wanting protection and using what you could," Cale smiled, "It's a little different, that's all." ----------------------- She was on her back, lying on the fur and he was over her, staring at her smiling eyes in the dim light. Sylvia sighed as she looked up, so in love with him as she watched her hand glide over the tattoo on his arm. Every thrust made her want to tell him how she felt, but she knew that he was looking at her and feeling it as well. She lifted her legs higher as he began to go a little faster and she reached farther back on him to pull him. Her eyelids slid shut for a few seconds and a long moan escaped her while her insides contracted in little waves. When she opened them, he was moving to lie on her and his strokes slowed to a crawl for a little while as he kissed her throat and moved to her ear. He loved to hear the little things that she said to him when they were like this. Sometimes what came from her was a sentence, in one of two languages by his count and the one that he didn't understand could be spoken in either of at least two dialects. Sometimes it was just a word or two, and sometimes it was just her little sounds. None of it mattered to him. Just listening to her like this made him want to do this with her forever. "Are you in a mood to plow me like horses do it?" she smiled, and he shook his head, "Not this time, I don't think," he groaned to her with a little smile. "I think I'd rather just do it this way -- that is, if you don't mind." "How could I ever mind this," she smiled against his ear, "when you take me to such nice places each time? I was just thinking of you, Cale. I'm only a little sad for the millionth time that we couldn't stay together back then. We'd have made such wonderful kids, you know." She asked him to move, and they began again with her on her back with cushions under her shoulders so that she could lean on one arm and be a little more elevated with one leg over his shoulder. She picked up a rib cramp then and they stopped so that he could work it out for her. "Now we're too old to start and I don't have any eggs anymore," she sighed, "It makes me so sad now, but I got really sick when I was pregnant with Siobhan. They never found out what was wrong with me, and we both almost died. By the time that it was done, I'd had a double hysterectomy and a long stay in the hospital to boot. While that was going on, Paul told me that he was working on some really important deals, so that was why he didn't come to see us much. So I played the dutiful new mother and when I was ready to be released, it was my mother and grandmother who came to take me home. I didn't say a word to Paul. Since he wasn't that much interested anyway, I gave my daughter her name while he was gone." He drove home furious at me for 'making him look like an idiot' as he said. But I laughed in his face and said that he was an idiot, so that wasn't a new look for him anyway. I said that I'd just made him look like the bastard that he was and when he was about to fly into more of a rage at me, he found himself being stared down by my father, who'd never liked him and the axe handle in his hand said that silently. My father never spoke a word to him that day or ever since. Siobhan and I came home with my parents and when Paul tried to tell he he was sorry, I told him that I was staying here, but that he could come to live here with me if he meant what he was saying. The first time that he broke his vow to me, I threw down the photos of him drilling some bimbo on the table in the boardroom. I had those photos three days afterward. I told him to get out, but he talked his way back that one time. I know that you've had bad times," she said, "I guess this was my way of saying that I had bad times too, but I'll show you what my hope is." She went forward onto her knees as he was then, but she lifted herself a little higher and she took his face in her hands and began to kiss him almost desperately so that he thought he'd gone to heaven, because she'd always had this way to kiss him that took his breath and caused his heart to pound for her. The way that she kissed was wet and everywhere and they groaned together as she reached for his shaft again. "I have one place to offer you since I'm never going to let you go again," she groaned against his cheek. "Paul always wanted that from me, but I never let him near it. He hurt me enough out of the bed, I wasn't going to let him tear my ass to shreds. He could only do anything only one way in bed." "I want that later," he said, "but only if you want that from me. I'm no fan of Paul, but unless you want to hear the gory details of every one of my failed relationships, then please stop talking about him for now at least, Sheelah. I can only handle small doses, but you know that I'll listen to anything that you have to say, right?" "Why?" she asked as she looked at him, "I am sorry by the way. I shouldn't turn making love with you into a bitchfest, but why would you want to listen?" "I love you," he said with a shrug, "and I don't want to be one of those guys who never listen." "Do you like doing this with me, the way that we are right now?" she asked as she stroked him, "You haven't come in a long while. It's starting to worry me." Cale chuckled, "I keep changing my mind about positions. You'd better not give me any more choices for now." Cale fell in love with her again when she threw back her head and laughed, "I know! Here," she said as she turned away and got to her knees and elbows, "You can spank my ass with your hips, and I won't mind a bit if you grab my ponytail and pull it a little. Bang me if you want to," she grinned as though she was a champion at this, "You can't break me like this and I'm feeling pretty barnyard at the moment." Cale was still fighting off his chuckle a few minutes later as he felt his orgasm beginning to feel like it was boiling in his balls. She loved the way that his scrotum slapped against her so softly, but she gave up her attempts at speech then as she found out that it had more of an effect on them both if she only grunted as loudly as she could. When they'd both come and he'd withdrawn, Sylvia gave in to her need to laugh. "That was fucking amazing," she chuckled, "but I almost wrecked it for us both." "What do you mean?" Cale asked as he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder while he bent down a little more. "I was pretty lost in that," she smiled, "but what I suddenly had a desire to do was to squeal like a pig or something, just to see what you'd do. I just didn't know how to make that sound or I would have." He laughed for a moment and then he fell still and Sylvia let out a long sigh as his tongue slipped between her haunches. He felt her fingers in his hair as she reached back and groaned. "Ohh fuck," she sighed thirty minutes later as she looked up at him over her own hip, "I didn't think of this as a position," she sighed. They said nothing for a time until after he began to rub her cleft in little circles. At first, the sensations seemed to work against each other, but Sylvia came again anyway and after that she just begged him to fuck her so that he'd come again. They ended up with her on her face, and when he'd finished and moved back a little, she rolled a little and reached back for his arm, "I'm a little sore -- first time and all, but you can do that for me pretty much anytime, Cale. I really liked that and how it felt like you own me - right when I wanted to feel that way." ------------------------ Sitting in front of the fire again with the blankets around their shoulders, Cale asked about her daughter, since he'd never met her. "She's a veterinarian," Sylvia said a little proudly, "the last couple of years, she's been interning in Yorkshire England. But her term is done now and she's coming home in a day or so. I have to pick her up at the airport on Christmas Eve morning." "Holy crap," he said shaking his head, "Toronto Pearson during the holidays? Now there's a test. Want me to come with you?" "No, but thanks for the offer," Sylvia smiled, "I haven't told her about us and that I'm done with Paul. I have to be careful about how I word that part." "I understand," he said, "She'll be walking into something other than what she's expecting and right at Christmas, too." Sylvia laughed that wonderful laugh of hers then as she shook her head, "You don't understand at all, honey. First off, she looks a little like me and not at all like her father. But she inherited his stubbornness, and they loathe each other. She made that decision herself -- after he never came to any of her things at school even once and she told him the day that she left for England that she's hated him for years. She went to university on some of my money, a lot of Gramma's and her inheritance from Amy, plus what she made at all of the jobs that she worked part-time. She never got a cent from her father. She's got dark brown hair and blue eyes instead of my green ones and she can look like a lost little waif when it suits her. I can't wait to tell her about us, but if I'm not careful, she'll think that I tossed Paul out as a Christmas present to her," she laughed. "She will be happy to meet you," Sylvia said, "I'd have never told her about our ancient history, but my mother did. Siobhan was raised like I was, so the thought of a young lover had about the effect that you might guess on a girl. She tried to find one for her, but it only led her to a lot of hurt -- which was why I wasn't going to tell her about us. You play your cards right here," she chuckled softly, "and you'll find that you have a step-daughter who's always wanted a real man for a father." Cale felt that feeling again about his life and was about to reply that he wouldn't know how to be one, never really having had much of a chance for it. The phone rang then and it pushed the thought from his mind. It was closer to Sylvia, so she picked it up and began a strange sort of conversation. "No," she said after listening a moment, "But Cale Taylor does live here. Would you like to speak with him?" He had no idea, but he took the phone from her and he looked into Sylvia's eyes. He didn't know why, and she didn't either, but she looked a little thrilled at that moment. "Hello?" There was a bit of silence on the other end for a moment and Cale was about to try one more time before he'd hang up with a shrug, but then the other person spoke and with only one word, Cale felt the third way that his life was changing that day. He heard a very quiet sob as though it had gotten through a crumbling wall to get to him as he strained to hear the first word. "Dad?" A Man on an Island Ch. 07 ***This is the last chapter of this story. In a little time - in the story after this - some of these characters will appear in "A Red Maple Leaf & Ten Orchids" which will restart shortly and go to its conclusion. 0_o ---------------- The conversation was difficult and just a little tearful for Cale and very tearful for his daughter. Samantha had been through a lot in the last couple of years and some and that involved a lot of quick growing up, but she now recognized that she was perhaps not the center of the known universe. He didn't ask, but he learned that his ex-wife had died of cancer the year before last. Hearing this, he was far more concerned about how his daughter had handled it -- and as it had turned out, she'd done not too badly. "I already took your advice and I decided that I needed more education," she said, "Then I sat down and thought about everything. I found out how much support you'd been paying and then I waited. Mom always used to pick these fights with me ,so the next time that she flew into a rage, I asked her where the money was -- what you'd paid and I demanded to see how it had benefitted me, other than to keep her drunk and sleeping. She'd invested a lot of it, so I told her that I wanted my share -- something so that I could go to school." "Did she give you anything?" Cale asked, but Samantha said no. "Not at first," she said, "but I got all there was when she died. She left everything to me, and most of it was a mess, but between that and what I'd saved from working, I got it done. I'm not ready to take on the world quite yet, or anytime soon," she said, "but I'm now a registered animal groomer and I know my way around a vet's office. The trouble is that I haven't found any work yet, and I'll be out of an apartment by the New Year." Her voice dropped off a bit then, "I know that I haven't been the best experience in fatherhood for you Dad, and I never really understood until I found the letters that you'd written to me -- boxes of them - and then I began to get a clue that maybe my life wasn't all your fault. I wanted to call you a long time ago and, ... well, Taylor isn't exactly a distinctive name. There aren't very many Cale Taylors around, but you don't list your name like that, and I was stuck looking at a lot of C. Taylors, so it took a while, and then I had a short list of about fifty in this province, after I separated out the ones in the city or in places that I knew that you wouldn't be living. I only got up the nerve to start calling this month, since I won't have anywhere to live soon. Look Dad, I know that I always asked you for money, and I was pretty much a spoiled shit to you about it before, but is there any way that you can help me a little?" She sniffled, "God, I feel like such a creep to even ask ..." Sylvia watched Cale as he thought while speaking to Samantha through the entire call and the look that she saw there made her get up to bring him a pad of paper and a pen. They exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, and during a part where they were just talking a little, Sylvia took the pad and wrote a few things. When he saw that she'd written, he smiled and she beamed back at him. "Sam?" he asked, "Listen, this call is going to jack your bill like crazy. Can you handle horses, grooming and regular handling?" "Sure," she said, "why?" ------------------------ Samantha loaded up her ancient Forerunner with all of her worldly possessions. Her 'apartment' was really only a room that she rented, and after selling off everything that she could after her mother's death so that she had money to live while she went to school and worked at whatever she could find, there hadn't been much left and she didn't need or want most of what there was. She had a very few things that were dear to her, like her little notebook PC. She'd wanted a regular laptop but if she'd learned anything while being on her own in life, it was that being frugal was like chicken soup as a form of medicine - in almost all cases, it couldn't hurt. She was so glad now that she'd made the effort to try to find her father. There had been a couple of phone calls over the last two days, and a ton of emails and for the first time in a long time, she felt a little hope. She had nothing too specific to go on, other than the possibility of some work to start with for someone named Sylvia, who she surmised was her father's girlfriend by the sound of it. She locked everything up and handed in her key as she walked outside. The weather looked like shit on the way and she was headed off to fill her tank before she left town. Her wheels had been a stroke of good luck. The thing didn't look like all that much, but mechanically, it was far better than sound, since the previous owner had wanted it for off-road play originally. The gas mileage wasn't great, but as ugly wheels go, the thing was a tank. With a full load of gas, she was off on the first part of this strange little journey, on her way to the airport to collect someone who was arriving from the UK after living in Yorkshire for a couple of years. Beyond that, she had a map and from what she'd heard, this Siobhan person was on her way to the same place that she was and had grown up there, so directions shouldn't be a problem, since she'd have a guide. The traffic and the parking around the airport were the first challenges, and she found herself running as she looked for the Arrivals area, once she'd figured out which terminal she needed to be in. Her time cushion had been almost eaten up in all of the farting around. --------------------- Sylvia's daughter was almost the last one on the flight to clear Customs and she worried a little. The flight had gotten off late and they'd arrived even farther behind schedule. But she took it as a bit of a blessing, knowing her luck that the flight hadn't been scrubbed or diverted to another airport due to the approaching storm. That was going to be an adjustment, she thought. She hadn't been home during the winter in two years. She also wondered about her transportation home. She'd been prepared to be met by her mother, but the plans had changed almost at the last minute, and now she was going to be picked up by a stranger. Her mother had said that Christmas had sort of snuck up on her this year and she'd be in town picking up groceries and doing some last-minute shopping. When she stepped out of the baggage pickup area, she was looking at an almost-empty Arrivals hall due to a delay in the arrival of the next incoming flight. The people that she did see were leaving for the most part. Siobhan was getting a sinking feeling. But then she saw someone running down the length of the hall, and when she saw that there was almost nobody there, the person slowed and looked around. Samantha thought that maybe she was in the wrong place again. The name of the person that she was to meet wasn't one that she'd ever heard before and she had a vague notion that it sounded a little East Indian or something and she saw almost no one like that here. There was only one young woman in sight, and she didn't look much like that, though she did have long dark hair. Their paths took them each on a general course toward the other and Samantha finally just shrugged and held up her piece of cardboard. To her amazement, the other woman nodded smiling and pointed to herself and they walked toward each other. "This is you?" Samantha asked, and she pointed to the last name to be sure. "Yes," Siobhan smiled, "In person. Are you Samantha Fletcher?" "Yup," she laughed a little, "Sam I am." Siobhan smiled as she tried to develop more of a first impression out of what she saw. Sam was a little taller than she was, she guessed after mentally subtracting the footwear. The thick-soled punk boots gave her a few inches more and Sam's tight black jeans accentuated her leanness. What Siobhan saw was leanness, though not necessarily thinness. She guessed that Sam had maybe two inches on her without the boots, and though she didn't look heavy in any way, there was a sense that Sam outweighed her by a fair margin somehow, and Siobhan didn't understand that -- though it was her impression all the same. Siobhan wasn't large and the overall effect that she saw in Samantha was one of quiet confidence as she stood regarding her with violet eyes under short, spiky, died red hair that almost lit the area around her, she thought. That hair had a look that gave the impression that she might have woken up only an hour or so before, but she knew that it was only from a tube of styling gel. She wore a short biker's jacket with about a ton of hardware hanging from it in various places that she could see where it peeked out from under an open lined and hooded jacket. Under that, Siobhan couldn't make out the lettering on the faded black T-shirt, though the spikes of the dog collar showing through the scarf that she wore sure held her eye for a moment. She looked down and noticed that Sam was wearing thin black leather gloves with cut-off fingers. Black eye- liner over black eye-shadow gave her a striking look as did the two thin gold rings in her nose; one through her right nostril and one through the septum. Three earrings in her left ear and the five more hanging at various heights in the rim of her right ear completed the facial scenery for her -- oh, she thought, and there was that dull black lipstick which lent her lips the dusty texture of the inside of a black rose's petal. Siobhan had seen and met many people of all sorts during her time in Europe, but she'd never seen this style here very much. She normally found those who followed the fashion to be a little self-destructive in their styles of recreation and so she'd never had much of any dealings with them at that level. But she found that the liked Sam instantly -- even doubting after a moment that she could help it. From Sam's side, there was something about this girl which told her that she had absolutely no business being in the heavily-industrialized and gritty urban environment where she herself could thrive. Her hair was long and an almost-black shade of deep brown and it hung around a face that seemed pretty in its features, though it could be said that none of those features were remarkable in their beauty. The combination, however -- well that was strikingly so, and Sam found herself having to give Siobhan points for it. The rest of her was hidden in a long fall coat which Sam knew wasn't going to do very much to keep her warm, but she guessed that it was the best that the woman could likely do -- if she was coming from out of the English countryside where it grew cold in a damp sort of way and snowed little if anything more than a centimeter or two most times. She smiled to herself. If this girl hadn't gotten a look outside through a window during their approach to land, she was in for one hell of a rude awakening in just a few minutes. "How do you pronounce your name again? I'm sorry," Sam said, "but ..." "Mac Domhnaill," Siobhan grinned, "It's Irish and Scottish. My mom says it in a more common and modern form for most people -- McDonnell - but I just make it a point to suffer through as people torture it." "It sounds fine to me when it's spoken," Sam shrugged, "It just scared the crap out of me to try to read it and copy it down from the email that I got. I'm very sorry if I made you wait. I got hung up in traffic and parking." "I didn't get out until only a couple of minutes ago," Siobhan said, "I think I was about the last one to be cleared. I was afraid that you'd come and gone without me." She saw the uncomfortable look and knew the cause right away, "You were asking more for my first name, weren't you?" Sam looked down, "Yeah, sorry again." "No worries, Sam," she said as she spoke her name clearly for her. "Hey, ever since I was little, I've been a real stickler over my name being spoken correctly. But that was then. If it makes it a little easier to remember, there is an Engish version. I can't imagine you being stuck in a car with me for an hour and having to struggle with a name that you'll forget as soon as we get going. Just call me Judy, ok?" Sam stared then with a small smile just curling her lips, "Judy? That name translates to 'Judy'?" When Siobhan nodded, Sam laughed a little, "That is so cool. But I think I can get the hang of Siobhan. We should get going though. The weather's getting worse and I guess we've got a drive ahead of us. It might be a good idea to hit the bathroom before we get on the road." Siobhan nodded as they began to walk, "Unless they've made some huge changes to Airport Road, it could be quite a trip. The road goes through a few sets of hills and valleys. People are always testing the laws of physics there, thinking they can drive really well. It's alright most of the time, but worn tires, wet pavement, snow, well, let's just say that the road has claimed some victims; though that makes it sound like it's the road's fault somehow. There used to be a sign that listed the death toll on that road, along with the number of accidents. I think they put it there to get people to slow down," she shrugged. Sam sighed, "Well we're not going to be blasting along it today, Siobhan, I can tell you that much for damn sure. I've been up and down it a couple of times before on my way to Wasaga Beach with my boyfriend at the time. Interesting scenery on a nice summer day. Now?" She shrugged, "I guess we'll have to find out." They took turns watching Siobhan's luggage while they used the lavatory and she got her next surprise as they neared Sam's truck. It had started out in life wearing a nice shade of dark blue. Now, the doors had both been replaced and they were different colors, just as the tailgate was when it had come out of a wrecker's yard to replace the original rusted-out one. The whole thing was flat black and ugly. But if anything, it looked purposeful and more than ready to make the drive which lay ahead of them. "Nice," Siobhan said. "You like it?" Sam asked, not really certain that it hadn't been sarcasm that she'd heard. Siobhan laughed, "I love it!" She set her suitcase down and walked around it. The bumpers were long-gone, replaced by tubular steel push bars and there was an electric winch under a cover in front of the blacked-out grille. The thing sat up a little tall on its suspension and it wore heavily-cleated tires all around, "Oh, this is awesome." She pointed to the two bumper stickers, "I get this one, but this other one, ... I don't know what it's about. I've been away for a couple of years." There were two bumper stickers plastered a little casually across the tailgate. The first read, "Sorry for driving so close in front of you", and the one that gave her trouble read "Nobody cares about your stupid stick family." "You'll see them around on the back windows of a lot of SUVs or vans," Sam grinned, "People glue these little stick figures there to represent their families, right down to the two dogs and a cat. It gets old after you've seen three, and you don't give a shit about their families any more than you know that they don't care about you and yours. It's as stupid as the 'Baby on board' sticky things that people used to put on their cars -- when the baby wasn't there most of the time, and anyway, what are you going to do when you see yourself skidding toward the back of that car and you know that there's gonna be airbag deployment in another half-second because they've cut you off and then hit the brakes because there's nowhere to go in your lane either? That's why I don't think that I'll ever paint this thing anything other than what it's wearing now. It might be butt-ugly but at least people know what they're gonna get when they see it coming." She grinned a little wickedly, "I always get the parking space and I don't know if she bought all the options and was grooving at the time, but I've really fucked up a lady's Hummer with this." Siobhan laughed, "Really? A Hummer?" Sam nodded, "They only look like they're the same as the Humvee that they use in the military down South. They're really no more solid than anything else -- and I've got those solid pushbars nailed right to the frame. She clipped me with her fender going by me and I had nowhere to go, but at least I was already on the brakes. I got whiplash and some scuffed paint. Her toy was a write-off with pieces of plastic scattered all over the road. I got me another fender and a can of black spray-paint the next day and I was back in business. Besides, I kind of like the vintage Thunderdome look." Siobhan smiled, "I think it suits you, Sam." They put her luggage in the back, but then Sam began to rummage through one of her cardboard boxes for a moment. Siobhan was about to ask, but Sam handed her a heavy winter parka. "This used to be my boyfriend's but I kept it after we split up. That coat that you're wearing won't do you much good now Just put this over the back of the seat and it'll keep you warmer. When it's time to get out, just put it on then." Siobhan thanked her and they got in. She got her first real look at the snowy world again at ground level as they exited the terminal parking and hit the streets. "This is shit that I haven't seen in a couple of years," she said, "I can handle it -- I just don't have to like traveling on the roads when I have to." Sam nodded as she hoped that the weather would thin out the traffic a bit. Her truck was a standard, and that was fine with her -- unless she had to sit in creeping traffic for long. "Hey, how far up do we gotta go? I'm asking because I just remembered that there's a section up North of Cashtown Corners where they close the road so often during the winter that I guess they don't even bother to have a cruiser there to warn you. I've never been there in the winter, but I remember the sign that they have up there with lights on top of it. They just turn on those lights and you're screwed then. You can drive if you want to, but there'll be nobody coming for you if you get into trouble and your insurance is automatically void if you drive there then." "I know the sign," Siobhan nodded, "We'll be turning off to the West not far before that. We're headed for the wild and woolly Mulmur Hills so that'll be even worse to drive on, but at least they don't close the roads up there too often, or nobody could get in or out until spring. This little beauty of yours has four-wheel drive and I assume that you know how to use it?" "Hell yeah," Sam grinned, "This used to be my boyfriend's truck -- " She looked over, "Different boyfriend. Anyway, he owed me a lot, so he sold it to me for a couple hundred just before he went to jail, um, ... again. I really hope that he didn't expect me to be waiting for him when he got out. I didn't think much about it until later, but I think I was more in love with this truck than I ever was with him. At least it's a little fun in this when things get rough." "This coat that I'm sitting on, "Siobhan began, "which um, ..." There was silence then and when they looked at each other, they burst out laughing. "Other different boyfriend, right?" Siobhan grinned. "Uh, yeah," Sam sighed, looking at the road a little uncomfortably for just a second. ----------------------- Sylvia looked at the sky as they drove, "I know that it just makes more sense to have Samantha pick up Siobhan at the airport," she said, "since she has a vehicle to get them here and all, but this weather has me worried." "I'm not totally comfortable with it either," Cale said, "but we did say that Sam might have a better Christmas here with us than alone in the city. It didn't sound to me as though she had anywhere to go. She said that she didn't know anybody where she lives. I'm afraid that I don't know her all that well myself, but she's my daughter, so ..." A Man on an Island Ch. 07 Sylvia took Cale's hand, "I shouldn't have said anything just now. She's been on her own a while and she's lived through it. She's coming here and I hope that we can give her a start at least, and she's there and she has a car. The two of them aren't fools, and Siobhan knows the way, day or night, she knows how to get here, snow or not. I'm sure they'll be alright." "Well, from what I got from her emails, Sam's got a truck with four wheel drive. So if they take their time and grind along where they have to, it'll be better than a car," Cale said hopefully. ------------------------- "This is fucking awful," Siobhan said as they cleared the city, "Do you think we can --" "Yes," Sam said as she flexed her shoulders a little, "I can get us through this as long as nobody else on the road gets stupid, and even if they close the road, I've got GPS software on my notebook there that'll show us alternates if that happens. Right now, I want to hang a right, ... here," she said as she did just that, "There's a coffee shop about a block this way on the right. I want to get something hot to slurp on now, because I know that chain of stores always closes early on Christmas Eve. " She chuckled a little bitterly and shook her head, "I've got this image in my head about coffee shops being places where people who don't have anybody might go on Christmas Eve. They'd go because they don't have anything better, but they might hope to see someone there who is in the same boat. Of course, those stores are open all night every other night, but it's always pissed me off a little that on the nights when a lonely person might have a little hope because it's Christmas, they're locked out. Then again, I'd guess that the staff wants to have Christmas themselves." "It sounds to me as though I'm traveling with a bit of a romantic -- or have you been one of those people before?" Siobhan asked. "I was," Sam nodded, "I am, I guess. Sometimes I make up little stories in my head; little romances which don't involve me, really. I started doing that because I felt really alone for a long time. I'd find a bit of change and walk over to one of those places sometimes. I guess that in the back of my heart, I had a hope that I might meet somebody there one time." She looked over a little sheepishly to be admitting something that she's always held as a private thing to herself. "It never happened, though I did get hit on a lot, mostly by people that I'd never even want to talk with, or I'd end up talking to a cop who'd stopped in for a coffee to get through his shift and he'd see me and decide that I just needed to be hassled for nothing. But most of the time, I'd sit there alone, nursing a cup of late-night coffee and looking around. Almost every time, I'd see people there and in about a minute or less, I was having my little stories being spun in my head, starring the people that I was looking at." She looked over, "Well everybody needs a hobby. That's one of mine. It's free but for the price of a cup of coffee." Siobhan smiled, "I think that's kind of charming, myself. I just make up stories which are probably based on the ones that my mother told me when I was a kid. She always told the most amazing tales to me from out of the past. I've really missed that since I've been gone." They pulled into the lot and Siobhan pulled the parka on as she got out to trudge inside with Sam. There were a few young guys their age there who felt that they had to make some sort of comment over Sam and the way that she was dressed, but she made no reply as they waited their turn at the counter. "Oh no," Siobhan said when Sam reached into her pocket, "You're driving me home and the least I can do is buy the coffee." As they were leaving, the men tried to follow and the insults began to head down well into stupid, Sam was about to set her coffee onto the hood of her truck when the one with the biggest mouth took a step forward and landed on his face. The snow-covered slush which they stood on had turned to rough and slippery sheet ice. Whenever any of them tried to move, they fell and usually very hard -- hard enough to knock one of them cold for a minute and for the first one to bloody his nose. Sam wondered about it, since where they were standing, it was just as it had been before and it wasn't that cold to flash-freeze. They'd just walked over that same area. Sam turned and unlocked the truck, "Come on, Siobhan. I can't watch this much longer." The men slowly got to their knees and crawled back to the coffee shop sidewalk. Siobhan turned to walk back and she looked a little different to Sam in a way. "Are you alright?" she asked, and Sam nodded, her smile returning instantly. Back in the truck, they sat for a minute, just trying to get a quick sip or two from their drinks as they watched the snow flash past in the buffeting wind. "That's something I forgot about," Siobhan said, "the way that the wind can bite here." "It's not ever like this where you were?" Sam asked. Siobhan shook her head, "The wind blows and it can blow hard in Yorkshire sometimes, but it's never like this, with that cutting edge to it. I think it's more civilized there." Sam looked up from her coffee with a smirk, "They've even got civilized wind there?" "Not really," Siobhan chuckled, "but I hoped that saying that might get that dark cloud off your eyebrows. Those were just assholes back there. They're the same, no matter where you go." "Yeah," Sam sighed as she pressed the clutch pedal to the floor to shift into first gear, "I guess they must be." "My mom didn't tell me too much when I spoke to her on the phone," Siobhan said, "Just that there was a person who would drive me up. You're looking for work there? It's been years since we had anybody there. I guess I was just a kid the last time, and it's winter now as well. " Sam shrugged, "Your mother is Sylvia?" "Yes," Siobhan nodded as they pulled out, "Mom said something to me about a man named Cale. I remember that my grandmother and great-grandmother told me about him. He was my mother's boyfriend a million years ago when they were like eighteen. It sounded like a heck of a nice story to me back when I heard it." Sam checked her side mirror and changed lanes to make her right turn at the lights, "I don't know anything about that, but Cale is my father. Come to think about it, "she said with a shrug, "I don't know all that much about him, either. My parents split up pretty much before I was born. My mother used to tell me all kinds of things about how he left her high and dry and how he was an asshole in a million different ways. I clued in a lot later that I maybe wasn't hearing both sides of it. By about the time that my mom was diagnosed, I never said anything to her since she had her own plate full right then, but I decided that maybe he'd been trying to tell me his side when I yelled at him for leaving. I was just a kid back when I did it and I didn't really know any better. I was just throwing what I'd been told forever at him. It was all that I knew. She shrugged, "Now I know a lot more, but it's still not very much. My mother could often be a howling bitch, and with nobody else around to yell at for her own unhappiness, she gave it to me. Now, I don't think that I can fault him if he did leave her. Back then, he tried to tell me that he didn't leave -- that she threw him out. I think I believe him now, but it doesn't change anything. My shitty luck, I guess, but now it's easier for a father to get sole custody. He paid the support and never missed once in eighteen years. Now I have all of his letters to me over all of that time. My mother never let me see them because they might show that he wasn't such a bastard -- not the way that she was telling me he was. But she kept them all and I don't know why she did that. I haven't seen him in a few years now. I don't know what we might make of any relationship between us anymore. But I know that he could take all of the abuse and still care enough about me to tell me that I can come and live with him out of the blue, so I mean to try to have at least something with him if I can." She looked over at Siobhan, "If you can remember, do you think that you could tell me a little of what you were told? We've got a way to go and right now, I wouldn't mind hearing a little of anything about him." "I only ever heard his name once in a while from my great-grandmother," Siobhan said, "I know that just after I left to go to England, my mother sold him the land where our family built the first house. It was an old abandoned farmhouse the last time that I saw it, but Mom says he's fixed it up quite a lot since. What does he look like?" Siobhan had said it in that way to look for something in Sam's face and she saw it when a small smile flickered across her lips before it disappeared. "I think," Sam began, "that if everything works out for them as a family and if the man's not a bastard, a little girl kind of falls in love with her dad for a little while when she's small. To her, he's big and strong and there just couldn't possibly be a more handsome man in all the world. That all changes of course, but I think that's the way that it's supposed to be for a little while. I didn't have that, but I had someone who -- though he wasn't right there, he never went away much farther than he was. It always felt like he was not far off. I used to hate him for that, but after a while, I found that I used to see him for a moment if there was anything that was open for parents to come to -- like a Christmas play -- things like that. He'd stop if he could to say hi, and he knew that there was nothing that Mom could do to stop him, since it was a public place and he was my father, so he had a right to go and watch if he wanted. I guess he just called up the school and found out when things like that were being put on. I remember that my mother wanted to have something sworn out against him, but her attorney talked her out of it. It took me a while, but I had the idea that he did care and that he was never very far away." She remembered what Siobhan had asked, so she just said, "To me, he's still that same man, as big and strong and handsome as he was when I was little and wanted him to be there for me. He never had much of a chance to tell me as much as I could see that he wanted to when I'd see him, but he taught me anyway. My mother told me not to ever take shit from anybody -- but she didn't tell me how. He spent his whole monthly visitation time with me one afternoon telling me not only how, in more ways than just yelling, but he also taught me when to keep my mouth shut and wait. He only got to see me once in a while. Mom usually had something come up to prevent his visits." She smiled a little as she checked her mirror, "What he taught me was what I did back there in the coffee shop. If I'd used my mother's way, I'd still be there screaming and I'd get thrown out for it and feel like I'd been wronged. If I'd only used one side of what he taught me when he could, I'd be in the back of a police car again, and at least one of those assholes would be in an ambulance. I've done it before. But I used the other thing that I learned from him instead. Maybe the biggest thing that I learned from him was how to keep my temper from running me. It feels weird to say this about my own father, but he is good-looking, the way that I remember him and he's built pretty good if he still looks as I recall. He's got brown hair that looks blondish sometimes, and he's not one of those loud men. He never says a thing that he doesn't mean, either." She looked over, "That's about it. Why did you ask?" Siobhan smiled, "I just wanted to hear about somebody else's dad. I don't really remember a time when I didn't at least dislike mine a lot. Anyway, this is what I was told," she said as she began to relate what she knew of an old romance. ------------------ He was looking at the bare lower end of a female from the front, and marvelling at the shape of her mound. It caused him to smile a little, seeing as there was no upper torso above that -- she just ended in a flat surface. They'd gone into town for some Christmas shopping and Cale was managing that all-important duty of pushing their shopping cart around and watching Sylvia's purse as he tried to keep her somewhere within his field of view. He watched her as she went, a lovely woman in tall boots over well-fitting jeans under a heavy knit hooded poncho made of dark green wool. He looked down into the cart and smiled to himself. If he didn't know her and he was walking down the aisle in the opposite direction, she'd probably have given him whiplash as she passed. The thought surprised him, because he wasn't a twenty year-old man anymore -- not that she was twenty either, but still ... He looked around a little after that. They were in the women's wear section of a national department store chain which was having its store-closing sale as it prepared to rebirth itself into a whole new store under the colors of its new corporate owner's flag. Sales abounded, as did deep discounts and everything was for sale, even the store fixtures. Which was why he was looking at undressed mannequins standing in a group like a small flock of half-there flamingos or something. He saw three men snap their heads around as Sylvia passed by not seeing them as she hunted for bargains, though one of them did try to strike up a conversation. Cale went back to marveling at the naked mannequins or portions thereof until he heard her smiling call to him. He pushed the cart over dutifully and regarded her with raised eyebrows. "What size T-shirt do you wear these days?" she asked with a smirk. He shrugged, "They keep changing the size designations around. I can usually fit into an XL if it's not cotton, though that's usually tight. A 2XL is better for my neck and my arms, but they're often too loose everywhere else, why?" "Ok," she said, "what size fits you the best here?" she poked him in the stomach with her finger. "Cotton, and 2XL if it's been washed at least once," he said, and she nodded coyly so he thought it best not to ask. "Why were you smiling at the mannequins?" she asked angelically, "Did you see something that you might like in a white plastic woman with no head who will always feel hard and cold? They're for sale, you know. I could get you one for Christmas if I get to video what you do with it." The look that he saw in her face was about killing him in his efforts to keep his own face straight. "I was just wondering, that's all," he replied, "There are three bottom halves here, and one more or less complete one -- headless as you said. They've got price stickers on them. The top halves are 70 bucks and the bottom halves sell for 90. I was thinking that the top parts are more popular for some reason, since there's only one of them left. I can't see any use for one, but if I had one, I think that I'd rather get the whole thing, but I don't need one for anything, and they're too pricey even if I did. A hundred and sixty bucks for a shape to stand up in a corner is a bit steep, I think." Sylvia laughed as she came back to him with a gift for someone in her hands, "Believe me, the warm ones are even more expensive, even if you only stand them up in a corner." He was laughing and about to ask her what she'd meant when his phone rang. It was Siobhan, so he handed the phone to Sylvia. She handed him back his phone a little later, "They'll be coming up to Highway 9 in a little while. Samantha said that they're taking it easy and careful, but that if the coffee place there is still open, they might stop for a quick bite and some coffee." She smiled at him, "It's the strangest thing, but from the way that I heard them chatter and laugh through the call, it sounds like they're having fun. I kind of like that." "What happened to the big sit-down talk that you were going to have with your daughter about you and Paul? You ended up telling her over the phone?" "I couldn't help it," she said, "They've been talking. Somehow, between them, they've figured out that we're an item." She laughed, "Siobhan was thrilled. I find that I'm now really looking forward to Christmas and I can't wait to meet Sam." --------------------- To Sam's pleased surprise, they got to the coffee shop with about a half an hour to spare before it closed early. A bowl of hot chili each and they were on their way, each one sipping an extra-large coffee this time. "We'll need it," Siobhan smirked, "this is about the last chance and we've still got a fair bit to go. What are you smiling about?" "Us," Sam laughed, "this, everything. So your mom didn't deny it?" "No," Siobhan chuckled, "She said that we were right." "I can't believe that you just straight-out asked her like that. I think I'd have used a little lead-in at least," Sam laughed. Siobhan shrugged, "My mom and I are like that -- in fact, my grandmother and even my great-grandmother are all the same way with me. If I ask a serious question, they always give me a truthful answer. Since it's not April Fool's Day, then we can take it as gospel that you were right, our parents are trying to make a go of it. They just didn't tell us that because neither of us was there yet and they'd want to say it in person. My mom even said it that way -- that it was family business. You might not understand that yet, but it's a serious statement in my family -- which you're now a part of or you will be soon." She smiled then, "I can't think that it could have happened a long time ago without at least a little bloodshed, but right now, I'm kind of pleased, Sam. I like the thought that you'll be there for at least a while. It might sound a little dumb, but I'm finding that you're somebody that I'd like to get to know. Of course, it feels pretty weird to be gaining a step-sister if this works for them, but I kind of like that too." "You might regret that one day," Sam laughed back, "I can be a howling bitch too. I come by it honestly. This is kind of fun, though, suddenly finding that you've got a kind of step-sister when you're an adult and only learning about it like this. We'd better decide to at least be friends for now, my truck is way too small otherwise and it'll still be almost another hour, far too long to be cooped up with a psychotic whackjob like me." She looked over and Siobhan sat there with a pleased smile, "Go on, I need to learn a lot about you. I have no intention to have the daughters of a possible upcoming marriage getting off on the wrong foot. I think it's our responsibility to help and not hinder." She'd said that in such an authoritative manner that she'd even surprised herself, since it sounded more ridiculous than she'd intended. "I think you're a nutbar," Sam smiled. "Correct," Siobhan nodded as she held up a finger, "That saves me having to make the admission. You're next." "Well," Sam pondered as she negotiated the left turn at the lights to get them headed back North, "Alright, I sometimes compete in mixed martial arts competitions. I lose once in a while, but I never lose if I'm pissed about something or someone." "You're joking," Siobhan said, "Really?" "Yes," Sam said, deciding to add nothing to the statement, "You're up," she smiled a little wickedly, "Sis." They laughed at that until Siobhan looked over, "Who's older?" "What?" Sam asked, "Why?" "What do you mean, why?" Siobhan smirked, "It's important to know. How old are you?" They compared notes and Sam was older by roughly seven months. Siobhan was thrilled. "Why are you so fucking happy about that? "Sam demanded, "If I'm the older sister and if there's an order of things, then I'd be ahead of you, and you'd have to make do with hand-me-downs." A Man on an Island Ch. 07 "I wouldn't mind that, "Siobhan said, suddenly without humor, "I'd have loved to have had a big sister to look up to. I was the only kid out on a farm far away from anyone my own age. I'd have killed for a big sister." Sam was surprised at the tone and the expression that she saw. "You um ... you really mean that, don't you?" "Yes," Siobhan said, "I was like a mouse when I was a kid, and I had to take a lot of crap from everybody at school. If I'd had a sister like you, Miss Red Sonja, I wouldn't have had to be like that. My sister would have seen to anybody who gave me trouble until they stopped. That's what sisters do, isn't it?" Sam nodded as she looked forward, "I think so. I remember a girl who was the youngest of three kids when I was in grade school. I used to hang out with her brother when we were like eleven and I was sort of friends with the older girl, so I got to know them pretty well. Those three kids hated each other when they were at home. The youngest one was a little shit a lot of the time, and of course, now I know that she was just trying to fit with them. She didn't know how, and the older two wouldn't really allow it. One day, the parents group was selling cones of flavored shaved ice at lunch in the yard. She tried to get herself a cone, and a larger boy took her money away from her. She had enough for two, so she bought one, but his friend jammed her cherry cone all over her dress. I knew her and I'd seen it all. I was on my way over, but I stopped to watch then as those two bullies laughed their asses off at that girl crying. They thought it was such a blast -- until they turned around and saw the other two standing there. They might have hated their younger sibling, but right then, uh-uh. Somebody messed with their little sister, so they were gonna bleed for it. They didn't think it was all that funny then. Of course, the older two spent the afternoon in the office, and I got into trouble myself for walking right out of the classroom to go to the office so that I could back up their side of it. The school called their mother in and when she got there, she was in the face of the vice-principal, demanding to know why the yard teachers did nothing. So nothing happened to them. I thought that it would be so good to be in a family like that one. "Yeah," Siobhan grinned, "What I wouldn't have given to have had even the chance to be a little shit for just one day! Anyway, it's my turn," she said looking as though what she had to say was really rather unimportant, "I'm a veterinarian." "Fuck off," Sam laughed in surprise, "Get the fuck out. Seriously?" "Yeah," Siobhan nodded, "I'm back here now to start my practice." "Doctor Siobhan," Sam said with a chuckle, "I like it." "It's your turn, " Siobhan said. "I'm an animal groomer," Sam replied. Siobhan stared. "No way. Registered?" "Yup," Sam smiled, "Registered and looking for work, though I'll do anything right now. Sylvia said something about looking after horses. I think that I've got a surprise for her though. We're talking about the place where you grew up, right? It's the same place? Where she'd want me to work?" "Yes!" Siobhan said. "Do they have any blacksmith gear there? You know, like out of the movies, horseshoes and anvils?" "Yeah," Siobhan said, "But my grandpa usually does that stuff. He's not here over the winter anymore. He's with my grandmother in Florida. If they need any shoeing done, Mom calls up a smith to come over. Why?" "Oh, nothing much," Sam said a little airily, "Whose turn is it, anyway?" "I dunno, "Siobhan laughed a little, "I want it to be your turn, though. This is fun." "Ok then, I", Samantha said, "am Sam., Sam I am, and I -- that is Sam, am ... a blacksmith." Siobhan laughed, "No way," she said, "a real blacksmith?" "Uh-huh," Sam smiled a little proudly, "Go on, Sis," she chuckled, "Ask me if I'm registered." Siobhan rolled her eyes, "Are you?" "Nope," Sam grinned, "that's a licensed trade. I've got a licence to beat the shit out of metal. And there aren't many of us left." "That's brilliant," Siobhan stared, "Where the hell did you learn that?" Sam shrugged, "I was at a historical site and tourist attraction up in Penetanguishene. They've got a couple of tall ships there, and what's more, they have a school there to teach how to maintain them. Well for about everything else, they use college students for the summer season. A big part of keeping tall ships going is needing a blacksmith or two, but they need a licensed smith, since the boats carry people, and there aren't exactly a lot of college students who are licensed smiths and want to sweat at a smithy all summer. So I asked and they gave me an apprenticeship over the summer. I came back the next year and finished it and then I wrote the exam and did the practical exam as well. So I can handle anything like that for your mom." Siobhan sat with her jaw in her lap. Sam found it a little odd, since she didn't think that her revelation was worth all that. Siobhan began to laugh. "This is too good to be true," she said, "I come home from England, and you need a place to live and begin, just like I do. You can groom and handle horses -- just when I want to start my practice and Mom and I have sent a million emails while she tried to convince me to set up at the farm. Well do you think that a vet practice and a grooming service go hand in hand, or what?" Sam looked over and nodded, "A lot of groomers work out of a vet's office. That's where I interned." "And my mom needs a groomer and a handler -- and now here we are on the way there, and I find out that you're a blacksmith. "She laughed a little, "I get a big step-sister and she's a blacksmith. I freaking love it. I just don't know how much of a hand she had in it." "What do you mean?" Sam asked. Siobhan looked down then, knowing that she might have just ruined this. "I'd love to say never mind, Sam, but I like you too much already. We're ... different, my family and I. We can sometimes get things to line up a little if they were headed that way anyway. Nothing huge, just little things. We've always been like that. I think that now I'd kind of like you to forget most of what I've said for the past five minutes, but that wouldn't be right." Sam watched as Siobhan's expression changed from sad to a little upset as she said, "Look, we were playing the best game just now and I really enjoyed that. Trying to get to know each other was a lot of fun. I'm really sorry if I wrecked it." Sam stared at the road and then at Siobhan for a moment, "Back in the city," she said a little slowly, "The assholes in the parking lot, ... that was you, wasn't it?" Siobhan looked down, "A little. I didn't want it to get worse. I... I think it would be better if I just sit here and you drive. You don't have to be afraid of anything. Please try to do whatever work you can agree with my mom over. She won't hurt you either, and I'll leave you alone. I'll stay at the farm long enough to find a way to start my practice somewhere else." "Wait a minute here," Sam said, thinking on her feet a little. "You grew up all alone out there? You didn't have any friends? Why?" "I could never make any at school," Siobhan said, "I've always had trouble like that. Mom said that I always had to be careful not to hurt anybody if they teased me or called me names, so I never did, but I didn't like being picked on. I was really shy. I still am, I guess. I was having so much fun with you, I just forgot myself, or I'd never have said anything like I did." She looked out of the window as the afternoon faded into gloom. "I've just spent two years in another place, hoping that I f I was somewhere else, it would be different. But it wasn't. I got to know the animals that I worked on better than I got to know the people. So ... it's not the people at all, is it? It's me." She sighed and spoke more to herself, "It's always been me." They drove in silence for a minute and Sam knew that Siobhan was trying not to cry. She reached over and touched her arm. "Hey, Siobhan?" Siobhan looked down at Sam's gloved hand on her sleeve and then over to see that Sam was looking at the road. "You remember when I said that I liked to sit in coffee shops and make up stories? Well I did, and sometimes I used to do that there, but, ... well, most of the times that I sat to make up stories, I was sitting alone on my rented room because I didn't know anybody. I was in a city with millions of people, and none of them wanted to know me." "No," Siobhan whispered, "That can't be right. You're a strong person, you must be a little like your Dad or something. You're at home anywhere. I can tell. You can look the way that you do and don't care what people think or say." She exhaled, "You can get away with wearing gloves with the fingertips cut off like that, You can wear anything and look like you belong -- things that I could never do in my life. I'm just ... nothing. You had at least a couple of boyfriends, so you know how to fit in. Please try to forget what I said, ok? Please?" Sam looked over then and smiled just a little, "Look at me, Siobhan. I've never had a boyfriend for longer than a month -- ever. Just because I had a boyfriend doesn't mean that I was in any great love or anything like that. Most of the time, I was alone. You said that you'd have loved to have a big sister to look up to. Well I'd have loved to have had a sister too, just like I said. I'm just as lonely as you are, Siobhan. I'm just a lot louder about it, that's all. You didn't wreck anything. You've only confused me; that's all. I don't understand you, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to. I think that we were getting to be friends, and that's about all the Christmas present that I'd want this year. I've made a lot of changes in my life because I had to, because the only way ahead for me otherwise was down. Don't shut down now, Siobhan. I want to know you. I know that we'd only be step-sisters if your mom and my dad got married or something, but I'd love to have you as my step-sister if it meant that you were my friend. " Siobhan wiped her face a little, "You would?" Sam smiled, "Sure. I hope this works out -- whatever it is," Sam said, "If working with you is as much fun as just driving with you, I'm in. Where were we? It has to be your turn." "I -- I can't think of anything more about me to tell," Siobhan said, "you want to be my friend?" "Yup," Sam grinned, "I do. I don't think that I've ever met a more interesting person. I can see that you're a little sensitive about this thing about you, but, ... well, I won't pry -- though I'd love to maybe find out as I got to know you, but that's alright. I'm just nosy and it doesn't matter that much to me." Sam's phone rang again and after answering it, she handed it to Siobhan, "It's your mom." Siobhan talked for a minute and then she handed the phone back, "We've got to go to the main house, Mom said that they're at the old house where your Dad lives and we're supposed to go there, but she asked if I could get in and look after the horses for the night first. They're working to get his driveway opened up." Sam looked over, "What does that mean?" Siobhan shrugged, "There's this guy who works for the township and drives one of the big snowplows every winter. Pretty much everybody hates him for the way that he plows them in, like it's his mission in life or something. That's what's happened there and they're getting the driveway cleared. She wants us to look in on the horses and get them watered and fed, but she's kind of thinking that our driveway will be in the same shape. I told her that we'd handle it. You ought to slow down here. Our left turn is just over the hill." Sam nodded and eased up to begin downshifting gently. She was also about to ask how they were supposed to do what Sylvia had asked exactly, when they crested the rise and saw the police cruiser sitting across the road entrance where they needed to go. They pulled up and stopped as the officer walked over to tell them that the road was closed due to the weather. "Fuck," Sam muttered under her breath, "This is where I regret not leaving the attitude at home. A little cuteness right now would work better. He's gonna take one look at me and then we'll have to use some other road up." She rolled down her window and they prepared to get the news. Just as Sam was preparing to hear that the road was closed and then immediately try to convince the constable that her truck could get them in, Siobhan listened to the chatter on the radio which the officer was wearing for a few seconds. The constable's eyes registered surprise and he leaned in only long enough to determine that there was no smell of alcohol inside the cab. He still looked confused and just said, "You're fine. Carry on," Before he walked back to his car. Sam backed up to give him room and they were alone a few seconds later as the cruiser carefully accelerated back the way that they'd come. "What the hell got into him?" Sam asked as she turned, "He looked like he forgot what he wanted to say." She began to smile after a second and it turned into a grin. Siobhan sat there looking at her with a strange smile, her hair hiding just a little of her face, but it was the little smile that she saw there along with the expression in her eyes that Sam saw which caused her to grin. Siobhan's expression changed then, back to the way that she'd looked for most of the trip -- pleasant and interested. Sam laughed a little as she put the truck into gear and they began to drive up the slope slowly in four wheel drive. Siobhan watched her as she reached to turn on the lights up on the roof. They lit up a lot of the blowing snow, but if you looked carefully, they offered a slightly better view because they were so high up. "I'm not even going to ask," Sam grinned at the windshield, "Right now, I don't fucking want to know what the hell just happened there, but I'm not dumb enough to stick around. I want us to be long gone before he comes back." "Well he didn't actually SAY that the road was closed, did he?" Siobhan asked in a small voice. "No," Sam nodded, not taking her eyes off the snow-covered road ahead, "I never heard him say that. He just mumbled something about the bad weather and then he looked a little shook up. You saw that too, right? You didn't hear him say anything about the road being closed, did you?" Siobhan looked at Sam's profile and decided just to say it the way that Sam would have, "Fuck no." Sam's head snapped around and they laughed for a second or two. "We can get through this, right?" Siobhan asked and she saw Sam nod slowly, "A walk in the park." ----------------------- "Ok," Sam said fifteen minutes later, "this," she said as she looked at the wall of snow blocking their path in to the farm from the road, "this is something that I can't handle. What do we do now, try to walk in and find a snow shovel or two and come back to dig?" "No," Siobhan laughed, "that's Plan B, but we do have to walk in, so let me out and back up a little so that you're as far off the road as you can get against the snow on the shoulder. Then lock it and follow me." Sam looked at the horses appreciatively as they saw to them. There weren't all that many, since Sylvia wasn't ready to begin boarding horses just yet. "Do you ride?" Siobhan asked, and Sam nodded, "Some, but I'm not an equestrian in any way. First of all, I don't own a horse, so I just ride a little when I get the chance. You?" "Not lately," Siobhan said, "but around here, I think we'll both get a chance now and then. I think that would be fun." Between the two of them, they had the horses dealt with in little time, though Sam kept wondering about the driveway. Finally, she asked. "That's the part that we do now," Siobhan said as she led Sam into the driving shed, scooping a set of keys from where they hung near the doorway. She walked over to a large front-end loader and opened the door to get in, "Shut the door after I'm out, Sam, there's a little room up here so I'll wait for you." Siobhan had the diesel cranked and clattering noisily in no time, and a minute later, Siobhan pulled out into the snowy evening and waited. When Sam had the doors closed, she climbed up carefully and got inside the cab. "You can drive this?" she asked and Siobhan nodded as they began to roll. Sam sat in wonder for the most part as Siobhan ploughed a quick path to the end of the driveway and then began to deal with the wall which had been left by the passage of the road plow. "Bring your truck to the big shed, and I'll be there in a couple of minutes," Siobhan said, but Sam asked how they were going to get to where their parents were. "Depends," Siobhan smiled, "on how much trouble I have getting one of the snowmobiles in the shed started." Sam pulled out her phone and learned that Cale's driveway was cleared and passable. When Siobhan looked over, Sam shrugged, "Why bother? My truck's warm. Is there somewhere that I can wash off this makeup? I don't want to look this way when I meet my Dad and your Mom." "Sure," Siobhan smiled and led the way, but she stopped still in her tracks when she saw a vaguely familiar dark shape out be the main yard fence. "What is it?" Sam asked and Siobhan pointed, "I've never seen one this close." "What the fuck is that?" she heard Sam whisper, "That's not a wolf, I don't think. I've never heard of a wolf getting to that size." As they watched, the shape turned and sprang over the fence to lope away into the darkness. "Come on," Siobhan said as the spell was broken, "It's nothing bad, just a shadow that stays near to my family. I'll tell you about it sometime." ------------------------------- On the way over, Siobhan noticed that Sam had fallen silent and she asked if there was anything wrong. "No," she sighed, "I'm just scared shitless. I don't know your mom, but I know that I can like her just from talking to her on the phone." "You're nervous about seeing your dad?" Siobhan asked and Sam nodded, "I feel like I'm going to be judged somehow. If it was anybody else, I wouldn't give a shit, but ... I think that a parent is supposed to guide their kid, and we didn't really have that. Well now I'm grown up." She looked out of the windshield into the darkness, "What's done is done, I guess." Siobhan decided that it was her turn to reach for Sam's arm, "Hey, you just said it. What's done is done. He has to think about it the same way, Sam. Look, my Mom's in love with him, and if I know her at all -- and we're very close -- it's by her free will and choice this time. To me, that means that he can't be an asshole. And you're overlooking something important, I think. From the things that you said about him, I'd think that he feels the same way and he probably judges himself a lot more harshly than he could judge you. You're the result of what he didn't get to teach, but if he sees a failing, I'd bet he'd blame himself before he'd blame you." Sam looked over with her worried look fading a little to be replaced with a small smile. "Thank you. For somebody who'd have wanted to be a little shit, that's pretty deep." Siobhan pointed to where they had to turn in and after a couple of moments where Sam seemed to need to gather something up in her, they walked to the porch. Cale met them at the door and things seemed to shift into a slightly different plane for Sam then. She saw Siobhan hugging her mother and though they looked a little different between them, it was obvious that they were mother and daughter. The introductions had been made before Sam really had any time to take everything in, and the next thing that she knew she was standing before her father as they looked at each other. A Man on an Island Ch. 07 She didn't know what she'd thought that she might expect to see in his eyes, and she was a little sad now that she'd come with her hair dyed as vibrantly as it was. It came to her that maybe she should have removed her piercings for this meeting, and now it was too late and whatever impressions that he drew about her because of them would be harder to undo if that was what she wanted. She didn't know what she wanted. She felt as though she was on a glass specimen slide under a microscope in his gaze. He smiled softly after a moment, "Hello, Sam. It's been years and you've grown into someone as lovely as I always knew you would. There's nothing to keep us apart anymore, is there?" "No," she said, surprised that it came out as a whisper. The next thing that Sam knew, she was in his arms, with her face against his cheek. She felt the first tear as it slid from her eye and then she was crying as he held her. But she knew that Cale held no immunity to the moment either when she felt the wetness of his tear on her neck. Sylvia drew back and looked at her daughter's smiling face for a moment before she kissed her and smiled, "So good to have you home and safe. And this is obviously --" "Sam," Siobhan smiled, "Sam she is, and I think I can say that she's my new friend. I was a little nervous waiting at the airport, but then we met and we had so much fun on the way up." Sam was glad that she'd ditched her makeup as she wiped her eyes and smiled at her father, "I want to thank you --" He shook his head, "I need to thank you for trying to find me, Sam. We can work out everything later, ok? I just want to look at you and get to know you." "Wait," Sam said, "I need to tell you that I'm sorry for everything, I didn't think about it until long afterward, but one day, I just woke up and knew that I'd finally driven you away when I called for money the way that I always did and you had nothing to spare for me then. You only asked for a little time, and I hung up and wouldn't answer when you called and called. Dad, I ..." Cale shook his head and waved her words away with a smile, "Doesn't matter, Sam." Sam felt a little nervous as he took her jackets to hang them up and they looked at her as she went to sit on the couch wearing only her black T-shirt and her jeans. Siobhan sat next to her and grinned as she looked over for a moment, "Whoa, Sis," she laughed, "where did you get these?" she asked as she touched Sam's bicep and admired the ring tattoo there. Her other arm wore a full sleeve of ink from shoulder to wrist bearing longboats and dragons. Sam shrugged, "I work out some." "Very interesting tattoo," Sylvia grinned, "Celtic and Gaelic knotwork like that." "Really awesome Viking stuff," Siobhan grinned. "Thank you," Sam smiled, knowing that what had been said was meant. "Do you have any more," Siobhan asked, "I've thought of getting one, but I don't know how much it hurts and they cost a bit. Of course, it was easy to admire and wonder when you can't spare the money to find out," she smiled. "I have a few," Sam said, just a little uncomfortably, "and I didn't pay for them." Siobhan began to chuckle, "Old boyfriend?" "Of course," the redhead smiled. Cale was smiling. It seemed as though he couldn't stop as he asked, "Sis?" Siobhan looked at Cale and her mother, "I feel as though I've stepped into a dream or something. " She nodded toward Cale, "I've never seen you before, but I feel as though I've known you for years. We kind of thought that you must have become a little closer than the dear friends that I'd always been told about, and I guess we got a little silly with it and decided that if it grew serious, then the two of us would be step-sisters at some point." "We found that we sort of liked the idea and had a lot of fun with it," Sam said with a smile, "so that's what we've been calling each other all the way up. We've decided that we like each other enough to be friends -- since it looks like you'd like us to stay and," she tilted her head a little, "uh, work together, I think?" Sylvia held up her hand with a laugh, "I've had so many ideas running through my head ever since Sam called. But tonight isn't the night for that. We're a couple of people who each have a grown child. There's enough newness right there for the moment, I think. It's Christmas Eve and many other things as well. Tomorrow, if you'll all help out, I want to bring my grandmother home. That home is no place for a Mac Domhnaill on Christmas, especially not now. I think her clan here is growing and she should meet you as well, Sam." Sam smiled, though she didn't really understand it all and Siobhan leaned over, "We're an old family. My great-grandmother is the matriarch, and I'm dying to see her again." She was about to go on when they all heard the quiet clicks of nails on the porch and Siobhan stared out the front window at the apparition there outside. "Cu Sith," she said softly in a little awe to see the animal across the short distance, "We saw him out by the fence at the farm. Now he's even closer. I don't understand. They never come this close unless --" "Unless they live here," Cale smiled as he opened the door. "It's not who you think," Sylvia smiled, "though I think there's a family connection. That's not Cu Sith. That's Rufus." As if on cue, he walked in, still with the air that he owned the place, and he stopped in front of Sylvia to be welcomed for a moment, before he stepped over to look at the newcomers and he won them in a heartbeat when he turned on his toothy grin. Help me with the mulled mead?" Sylvia asked Siobhan and the pair got up to get what was needed to prepare it. "What are you guys doing?" Sam asked as she watched the proceedings with some surprise as she saw Sylvia set a pot on the stove while Siobhan produced a bar of black iron and shove it into the flames. "We're just making a hot drink," Siobhan laughed, "though I suppose that with all this hardware, it must look at least a little sinister, but this is the way that it's always been done, in our family at least. Our ancestors might only have had one pot to pee in, but the very NEXT pot surely was bought for this." "We just do it the way that it was done first, "Sylvia smiled, "before there were shiny kitchen appliances and when it was the hearth that was the heart of any home -- especially a Mac Domhnaill home, and this is surely still close enough to be that." "It kind of makes me wish that we had some traditions," Sam said to Cale, "But it's not that important." "It's Christmas," Siobhan smiled, "in any of so many cultures, and before that, it was a feast to many others, long before they accepted Christianity -- or had it forced on them. -------------------------- Dinner that evening was a meat fondue surrounded by collection of finger foods - a vast collection of finger foods from everywhere; it seemed and ran the uncharted course from tiny spring rolls to eggs in any of several styles. "I went a little nuts in the frozen foods section," Sylvia shrugged ruefully. "This is perfect," Sam said, "This is Christmas Eve like I've never had before." She looked at Cale for a moment as he smiled gazing at the fire, "And I guess it's not like you've had many of either." He looked at her and he shook his head, not really having any words. At one point, Cale let Rufus out and stood on the porch looking in through the window as he waited for the dog's return. The three of them were moving to sit on the floor in front of the old woodstove and Sylvia was adding more wood. It made a pleasant and tranquil-looking little scene for a moment and he felt very thankful. But then Rufus came back, covered in the snow which had begun falling again, but Cale didn't mind so much as Rufus shook himself off before Cale would open the door for him. Rufus disappeared inside and Cale followed him. After closing the door and taking his boots off, Cale stepped into the room and stood looking at three very beautiful women caught in a moment where they all smiled and talked in at least two conversations at once with a huge wolfhoundish- looking beast lying in the middle of them. As though he owned everything around them all and he was the lord of the place and happy for the company, Cale smirked and Sylvia looked at him quizzically. "It kind of looks like a scene from out of the past in another place," he shrugged, "I was just enjoying the moment. Siobhan's eyes lit up as a thought came to her and as Cale sat down next to her and accepted a cup of warmed mead from Sylvia, her daughter asked for a tale. ----------------------- Sam looked at Siobhan a long time afterward and it was plain that her very long day was catching up to her. "I never asked, where do we all sleep tonight? I sure can't drive like this. I doubt that I could even find the clutch pedal." "Legend has it that there's a bed upstairs," Sylvia grinned, pointing. "Which we never get to," Cale chuckled as he rolled his eyes, "We always end up staying right here. But it's a king-sized bed, and it doesn't look as though Siobhan would care much at the moment, and I'm sure it'll be big enough. There's no way that any of us ought to drive right now." "Pfft," Siobhan exhaled past her lips, "if it's soft and horizontal, I'm sure that I'll be fine. Don't know if I can get up the stairs though ..." "I'll get you there," Sam smirked, "this sister thing looks like it'll get its first test. I'm warning you now; I flop around a lot when I sleep." "Awesome," Siobhan sighed as she got to her feet wearily, "I do too, so we'll probably end up passing each other. Wave to me when it happens, ok?" Sylvia thought the whole thing to be a little hilarious, but she nodded, "No fights then. There are tons of blankets on the chair in that room, so if you find that you can't stand each other's snoring, the loser can always sleep on the floor." Sam groaned, "I'll probably end up there anyway. I'm not big on sleeping with anybody anyhow." She looked at Sylvia and her father, "Thank you for the best Christmas Eve that I can remember, and for everything. I don't know what to say beyond that." "Merry Christmas," Sylvia smiled warmly, "I feel as though I have a family again, so Cale must feel that even more." She looked at him and he nodded. Cale and Sylvia watched as the pair of them made their way up the stairs and offered them a quiet call up the stairs to wish them a good night before they went back to the stove to look at the flames for a little while. She leaned against him with a sigh after he put his arm around her, "I'm so happy." They sat in silence for a time before she said, "Sam looks a lot like you. She's just as I pictured her to be -- well, other than that hair. What color is it without the dye?" "It used to be a really nice honey blonde," he said, "I haven't seen that in a long time. Every time that I saw her from about the age of fifteen, it was always black. She was a Goth girl then and thin as a nail. She's got quite a build on her now." Sylvia looked up and smiled, "Siobhan told me that Sam is a licensed blacksmith, among her other surprising accomplishments." Cale felt his eyebrows rising, "Really?" "Oh, I think that we'll find out a lot of things about her tomorrow," Syvlia grinned, "She's every bit as remarkable as her father." "I'm not a blacksmith," he said. "No," Sylvia smiled as she opened a button on his shirt to slide her hand against his chest, "Have you ever been a fighter?" "What do you mean," he asked, "do you mean, as in brawling in an alley? I've done it, but it's not something I was ever proud of. That was just some of my stupid coming out and that was a long time ago." She nodded, "Back when you were in an angry young man stage?" "Something like that," he admitted, "but I got it in hand before it landed me in jail." "Maybe Sam has had her angry girl stage," Sylvia said, "She's fought in the ring before." "Huh?" he was incredulous, "you mean she's boxed?" "I guess," Sylvia said, "Siobhan said she's fought in mixed martial arts fights." As he sat in a little wonder, Syvlia pulled her hand back and pulled her dress off over her head. His shirt was next and before he knew it, really, she was leaning down, kissing him as she reached to caress him still on the furs and blankets, she smiled. "I was right, though. We made great kids." She pulled him down onto the furs with a grin, "Why are you looking so nervous?" "I dunno," he smirked up at her and whispered, "Maybe because our daughters are here." "They're not here - here," she smiled as she held up a finger, "They're up there," she held up another, "I'm sure that they can figure it out and likely won't mind if we're quiet, "she held up two more fingers. "And it's Christmas and I love you," she smiled at him in the darkness. "Ok," he smiled, "That's the one." ------------------------ "How do you want to do this?" Sam asked as she helped Siobhan into the room and turned on the light, "or do you care?" Siobhan sighed, "I just want to lie down and close my eyes, I don't think they'll stay open for much longer and if I get to that point, I'll just feel nauseous -- and considering that I had a few cups of mead, that'll be a bad thing. Where's the bathroom?" "Right there," Sam replied, "just out the door to the left. You go, and I'll get those blankets laid out somewhere so that you don't trip over me if you need to go in the middle of the night." "Nope," Siobhan said as she walked to the bathroom, "This is an old house that belonged to an old family. It was nothing back in the day for two girls in my family to share a bed in the winter when it got cold." Sam looked at the empty doorway as she heard the echo of Siobhan's quiet voice from the bathroom. "So we're not really sisters," she went on, "but I don't care. I'd rather be warm. If you have a problem with that, then tell me now, but if you're going to sleep on the floor because you think a drunk farm girl is going to mind, I've got a surprise for you. If that's all it is, I'll just sleep on the floor with you if you don't object. Warm is number one in my book. This place will get cold before the morning." When she came around the corner, Sam was already in the bed shivering a little at the feel of the cool sheets against her skin. She was wearing her sportsbra and a thong, but that still left plenty of bare skin against the linen. She watched as Siobhan turned off the light, took off her sweater and her pants and climbed in next to her. She looked over and smiled, "Thanks for everything and for offering me your friendship. I've never had a Christmas that felt this good to me." She reached over and kissed Sam once before she rolled over to face away from her for a moment as Sam lay there blinking. But that only lasted a minute before Siobhan muttered to herself and began to wriggle out of her bra. "Sorry. I can't sleep in this, and I'm too lazy to try to find one of your dad's T-shirts to wear, so I'm way too lazy to ask him even if I saw one here to ask about ... or something. I'm probably going to be embarrassed for this in the morning, but right now, I've just got to close my eyes. Good night, Sis, and Merry Christmas." They heard the soft clicks of canine toenails coming up the stairs and then they saw the shape standing before them and Siobhan stretched out and arm to pet the huge head there in the darkness, "Good night, Rufus," she whispered as she felt his warm breath on her arm. Sam was still blinking in the darkness, but at last she smiled at the way that she suddenly felt as though she had a family, not that she was exactly certain of just how that might feel, but she did feel as though she fit here to some degree. It was such a strange feeling, but she liked it and after a moment's hesitation and thought, she moved a little and kissed Siobhan on the cheek. Goodnight, Sis," she smiled, "Merry Christmas to you too." Siobahn's head was turned away, but she smiled with closed eyes and sighed. It left Sam with more of the strange feeling, and as she thought about the uncertainty and fear that she'd seen in Siobhan's face earlier during the trip up, she found herself feeling protective of this slightly odd, but beautiful girl who -- no matter how it was couched in smiling terms or even laughter, seemed to have a want in her to have Samantha Fletcher as her older sister in a way. That made it easy. She reached over Siobhan very carefully and pulled herself against Siobhan's back as she closed her own eyes to go to sleep. Siobhan opened her eyes and after a moment, she pushed back to find the best fit and smiled, "Thanks, Sam." Rufus turned away then and lay down on the floor in the only place large enough to accommodate another person. Sam knew it as it happened and decided that she wanted to be where she was anyway. ----------------------- In the morning, Sylvia stood there at the top of the stairs rooted to the top step as she looked into the bedroom. She looked for a moment more and then she turned to Cale and waved him up, holding her finger to her lips to caution him to be silent. When he reached the top step, she smiled at him and pointed. They were looking at a pair of sleeping heads under the blankets and a thick comforter. All that could be seen of the pair were their heads, but it was a little plain that Sam was lying with her arm on Siobhan's shoulder. Sylvia smiled to him and whispered, "They look like they really are a pair of sisters, like a couple of kids." He smiled back and went back downstairs to get some coffee going and with the caffeine, he hoped that he could formulate a plan which might yield them all a breakfast. As he did that, he thought about what he'd seen and He found that he had to agree. Their daughters were different in their appearance, but the damndest thing was that the way that they looked there asleep, they did look as though they were sisters. Then he smirked to himself, thinking that they'd probably started out far apart when they'd fallen asleep and had likely drifted together after that for warmth for the way that that room could get cold. He figured there'd likely be an awkward moment when they woke up. Sylvia tiptoed into the room to set the pair of housecoats that she'd bought for them onto the chair. As she was on her way out of the room, she saw Sam's eyes open and she put her finger to her lips and left with a smile, closing the door behind her. After a few minutes where Sam thought about the previous day and how warm and pleasant it felt to be there against Siobhan, she very carefully and slowly disengaged herself and got out of bed. Seeing the housecoats, she held them up for a moment and selected the larger one and put it on, not knowing that Sioban had been watching the whole time and marveling at Sam's body and the tattoos which adorned it. When Sam looked back, Siobhan's eyes were closed and she feigned slumber. Sam went into the bathroom and Siobhan sat up and then got to her feet, reaching for the remaining housecoat, unaware that Sam was peeking back around the door at her, not being able to help herself in her curiosity. ---------------------- Breakfast had taken Cale too long to even begin to conjure when Sylvia shooed him out of the kitchen, so he sat with the two girls and they all nursed their mugs of coffee. Neither of them had any gifts for Cale, but it was a little plain to see that he already had more than enough gifts with them being together. "We're a little late to be the regular sort of family," Siobhan smiled somewhat warmly, "but I like the way that this feels to me anyway." They opened the gifts that were there anyway and Cale sat with a grin as they all found gift certificates for a full day's pampering at a spa in town -- the works -- as Sylvia laughed, and they agreed to go together and make something of a day of it. A Man on an Island Ch. 07 It wasn't noon yet when Cale's truck eased into a parking spot at the senior citizen's home, and the eldest Mac Domhnaill looked up from her magazine in the large community room where the huge television displayed the news at a ungodly volume level which she'd been doing her best to ignore as the door alarm screamed before it closed and many old eyes looked to the receptionist's window to see who's son or daughter had come to see one of the luckier ones among them. The elderly woman who'd been sitting across from her looked over and began to wonder aloud whose relations these might be, coming for a visit and my God, didn't anyone know how to dress their children these days, why these young people looked more like a pair of street urchins than any respectable sort. Sile looked over her shoulder and beamed before she turned back, "Oh pipe down, Hazel," she said, "The one on the right is my great-granddaughter, and I don't know the other one at all, but I'll bet I'll get more interesting thoughts out of her young head than anything that comes out of yours." Old men stopped in their tracks and a platterful of geriatric medicinal doses fell to the floor and rolled in all directions as a pair of young women began to walk in the direction that they'd been pointed. Sile smiled to see Siobhan in jeans and a bomber jacket walking next to a taller young woman in a black leather bike jacket and a hoodie. Siobhan reached out to hug her great-grandmother and she introduced Sam as Cale's daughter with a bit of pride. After that, Sam found herself in Sile's arms as well. "Are you ready?" She asked and Sile nodded, picking up her coat to go. They got her into the front of Cale's truck and pulled away with Siobhan in the crew seat in back. "I like this," the old woman smiled at Siobhan, "the way that you seemed to have grown some self-confidence in your travels. It becomes you as I always knew that it would." "I grew a tiny bit of backbone over there," Siobhan shrugged, "because I had to rely on myself more, but I think it's also Sam. We seem to fit well as the friends we've become so fast that it's stupid. I seem to be able to get some of her confidence by wireless link somehow." "That reminds me," Sile said, "I didn't know that Cale had a daughter, but I can see it in you now," Sile smiled, "How did this odd occurrence come to be?" She listened as Sam drove and she looked from one to the other, obviously pleased. --------------------- After arriving at the large farmhouse and having a little lunch, Sile listened as Sylvia outlined what she hoped might work for them all. Cale said nothing, since he knew about all of it already, but Sam and Siobhan had questions and points of view as well as suggestions. A gradual plan emerged, based in large measure on Sylvia's outline with all of the suggestions taken into account, and then Sile asked for the younger partners to come with her as she stood up. As they left the room, Sylvia walked over to where Cale stood looking out of the window. She put her arm around his waist before she stretched up a bit to kiss him. "So if the business loans are approved," Sile began, "the old place here will get a few alterations and the two of you can begin in a proper way. I hope it'll be busier than anything from dawn til dusk, between your mother's horse farm and riding school, your animal hospital and Sam's services. But now I'd like to give you my gift," she said as she stopped in front of a set of double doors to produce a key which she seemed to pluck right out of the air in front of them. "This won't mean much of anything to you, Samantha," she smiled, "but this was my room. It started out as a second floor sun-room, but I took it over for my own uses long ago," she said as she unlocked the doors to open them wide. They walked in and the two young women looked around in wonder. "I grew up in this house and I've only ever looked in here from the door," Siobhan said, almost in a whisper. Sile nodded, "Sad but true. For a lot of your young life, Amy lay here ill before she died." Sile sighed then, "I still miss her. This is the place from which I managed this farm for many years," she said, "when I wasn't with the others working at what needed doing. I worked here most of all, and I slept here, planned here, and made love here. Amy and I each had husbands and we loved them, though I'm all that's left of the four of us today. We slept with our men and we often came here to be alone, she and I. Amy came here from Scotland as a young woman right about at the age where you both are at now. I was raised here and we just sort of fell for each other. That was over sixty years ago now. She came because her first husband had been killed just as the war was really getting underway. She was heartbroken and wanted to see no more of it, and knowing that she had a few distant relations here who would answer her letters," Sile said, indicating herself, "She came. We had quite a life here running this place with my parents and all of the hired workers. The place hummed like a top most of the time but Sundays. It's no big thing today, but the way that Amy and I were wasn't the sort of thing the one could exactly be let known. It'll be different for you." Siobhan and Sam stared at the old woman and then looked at each other. "Come here, children," she smiled as she walked to a large carpet laid out in the middle of the floor. As soon as Siobhan stepped on it, her eyes registered surprise and Sile grinned. "You know what lies under your feet and this rug. I was just as you are, but Amy had it stronger than me. Our circle lies here. Now you both might just get yourselves men and live the way that my daughter and granddaughter live their lives, but then you might also be like we were. In any case, this room and all that's in it is my gift to a pair of young women who want to make their mark in the world. For as long as I've got, I'll live in another room here when I'm not at the home so that you can ask me anything that you think I might be able to help with. So, as friends and business partners along with your mother and father, as women who will take a man one day, or not -- this is yours now. There's too many stairs up to get here for me anymore anyway," she smiled as she walked out. Sam looked at Siobhan and opened her mouth to speak, but Siobhan chuckled and shook her head, "I dunno, Sam, but we're friends now and I mean to keep that if I can. I can't see any of what she says, but I'm old enough to know that when she says something to me, well I'm all ears because she's right more often than she's wrong. There's a room with a bed off this one and another on the other side. We can use this as a quiet place to work when the day's over. Mom and Cale are gonna live at his place, "she said. "What do you think?" Sam looked around, "I like to work," she said walking over to the large windows to look out at the countryside. "I like to work out and train and once in a while, I like to fight. I like to ride horses, and play video games when I have time. I like to surf the web and once in a blue moon, I like to get laid -- by a man. She looked over as Siobhan came to stand beside her. They watched through the window as Cale and Sylvia walked Sile out to his truck to take her to the old homestead where she'd been born, the last Mac Domhnaill to have been born there. "You should get all of the knowledge that you can from her while you have time left," Sam said quietly, "I don't know about what she said, though." Siobhan shrugged, "There's nobody more direct with her words that my great-grandmother. We live our lives to an older way -- or maybe to the way that things are now, but we never forget. All of the women in my family think to when people didn't have such a tight hold on the world and it was more the other way around. People liked to live in groups -- families and clans. That life was hard for everybody and harder for the men. Lots of times, some men wouldn't come back from a battle with another clan. I think things like that are the reason that women bond with other women more easily than men bond with men. It gave them all a better shot at survival." They saw the truck head down the long drive and Siobhan smiled, "So I'm beginning to think that you have a father to get to know, and I've got a better one too, who is obviously interested in me and what I'm doing, just as he is in you. You get a new mom and a whole family to stand in the middle of." She looked around, "I feel like I'm being turned loose in a wonderland. I could spend a year reading all of the old texts in here." "What are they?" Sam asked and the other girl shrugged, "I don't even know how to begin to tell you what I am, but I promise that I will make a try at it soon. I have to tell you some things anyway -- like what's under that rug." "All right then," Sam smiled, "Start by telling me just what's under that rug." Siobhan shrugged, "A circle, carved or more likely burned into the wood of the flooring, the way that my mother's ring is burned into the floor in the old house. It's a ring to cast in and a ring to scry in -- and make love in if you have somebody close enough to your heart to want to do that with there in a magical sort of way." "Magical?" Sam asked without a hint of scorn or skepticism, "This relates to the things that you uh, might have done as we were driving here, and the way that you get this look in your eye that kind of knocks the wind out of me to look at?" Siobhan was thrilled to hear those words spoken that way, "I like the same things that you said, except for the fighting and the video games, though I'd probably like to watch a little as you play. I used to like getting laid, but I never got more than used afterward so I just keep to myself more. It hurts less that way." "You shouldn't look at it like that, Siobhan," Sam said, "You're not going to have much to enjoy that way. I never had a great time in a romance with any of the guys that I've known and that's probably as much my fault as it was theirs, but I'd rather try than be alone. Neither of us is alone now. I think that's what she meant. What about if you had a big sister who could look out for you?" Sam smiled, "You let me tell you if I think you're gonna make a mistake and you do that for me. What about then? Think that would prevent any heartaches?" "No," Siobhan said, "But I think it would make it easier to get over the guy." "And a lot more laughs afterward," Sam said looking at the pickup truck leaving, "Look at them. I can't imagine that not working, can you?" "No," Siobhan said with a smile, "I woke up just before dawn, when you rolled off me. So I took the opportunity to go pee and as I was coming back to bed, I looked down the stairs and they were still making out." Sam laughed, "Really?" Siobhan nodded, "It was sort of nice to see, not that it wasn't weird - sort of like watching your mother in a slo-mo porno. Rufus was still here and he got up and stood next to me, and it felt as though he was leaning against me a little as I pet him for a second. Then he walked down the stairs. So I came back to bed and got in so that I didn't wake you up and I couldn't help myself for the way that you looked. I wanted to hug you, but I settled for just kissing your cheek once and then rolling over the way that I was when we got into bed." She shrugged, "Everything just felt so good to me. I was just thinking of using my hand a little, since I was lying on it a little when you rolled onto me again with a flop and began to snore softly into my ear. I couldn't do anything but use my hand a little, since I was trapped like that. I didn't mind the way that you trapped me, but you're heavy when you're asleep." "Shit," Sam muttered, "I'm sorry if I wrecked your moment or anything." "You didn't wreck it," the dark-haired one grinned, "It felt great to have your arm and leg over me. I came in like seconds, but you missed it when I told you that I love it when you talk dirty." Sam's eyes looked as though they'd leave her head, "I missed that? And I was talking dirty in my sleep?" Siobhan shrugged again in kind of an offhand way, "Yeah, something like the way that I imagine a bear would say it - growl, growl, grunt, snort, growl. I'm telling you," she grinned, "seconds and I was there. I think I might have made a noise, but I'm not sure. I came though, and it was nice, even if you were asleep." She pointed at the departing truck, now little more than a speck to them out on the road, "See that? So there HAVE to be at least a few good men out there." She put her arm around Sam's waist, "and if we can work together the way that we can bullshit each other, the world is our oyster." "Yeah," Sam sighed, putting her arm around Siobhan's shoulders, "and you're welcome." "Huh?" Siobhan looked over. Sam smiled a little awkwardly for a second and then gave up and chuckled, "I really rolled over to try to kiss you just once, since I felt like it. Then I noticed that you were moving, so I held still and pretended to be asleep." She grinned, "I was awake the whole time." Sam watched as Siobhan's face began to turn scarlet and she shook her head, "Too late for that," she chuckled, "We're their daughters and we're gonna be business partners. It can't hurt all that much if we like each other some." --------------------- "I'd say that you've raised a fine daughter, Cale," the old woman said with a smile as they drove. "I didn't have very much to do with her upbringing," Cale said with a bit of regret, "The more that I learn, the more I find out that she pretty much raised herself. But I am pleased at the woman that she's become and I am proud of her - and for her, too. We've got a lot of catching up to do. I also want to learn what I can of Siobhan. I just don't know where to begin - not that she needs me any more than Sam does, I suppose." "Oh, I think that they don't need you as a child might," Sile said, "but it's plain to me that they both want you in their lives. This is a strange and wonderful time for them, meeting each other the way that they have and finding a friend in the course of a day and a family that is changing for them under their feet at the same time. If I were you," she said, "I think that I'd try to be prepared for anything, because if nothing else, I can see that that pair will become very close. Most of all, I can see that they need each other more than they know yet. With the changes that are to come, they'll need support and strength as will my granddaughter here. That's what you're for in all of this, and if it's up to me, then I bless this as I did the day that you both met each other long ago. I know you, Cale Taylor," the old woman smiled, "I know that you've lived feeling cut off from the world that you walk through. The one who loves you now has built the first bridge, and if I know her at all - and I do - then she will turn that into a causeway, and more than just one." Cale smiled as he looked into the mirror to see Sylvia smiling softly back at him with a gentle nod. --------------- ***Besides the characters who will appear in the sister tale, I'm considering doing something with the two girls in their own story, I haven't decided yet.