Storiesonline.net
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                            Harry and Shadow
                            by Lazlo Zalezac

Copyright© 2005 by Lazlo Zalezac


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Description: For every beautiful person there is an ugly one. Shadow is ugly, real ugly. Men flinch, women scream, and children have nightmares after meeting him. Happy Harry doesn't believe that ugly is necessarily a life sentence to loneliness.

Codes: MF no-sex slow
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Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2004

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Chapter 1


A thrush flitted from the ground to land on a support of the bridge. It gave forth a moment of song that sounded like, "oh- holy, holy, holy; ah- purity, purity, purity; eeh- sweetly, sweetly, sweetly."

When the thrush flew away, a different song replaced that of the bird. The eerie tune, sung slow in a deep voice, cut through the misty evening atmosphere breaking the concentration of the man sitting on the railing of a railroad bridge that crossed a hundred feet above the river below.

"Ain't no grave can keep my body down, Ain't no grave can keep my body down, my body down, When that last trumpet sound, I'll be getting up and movin' round, Ain't no grave can keep my body down."

The man looked up trying to find the source of the haunting song, but from his vantage-point he was unable to see most of the bridge. A huge I-beam that formed one of the supports cut off his view back along the length of the bridge. Looking down at the water below, he wondered if he had the courage to make the jump.

"Sure is a long way down there."

The voice coming from beside him almost startled the man off his perch and into the water below. He looked over and saw an old man wearing a green robe beside him, leaning over the railing to look at the river below. In his right hand, the old man held a shepherd's staff. He recognized the outfit, but not the man.

"You're a Druid," said the man, appearing to state the obvious, but trying to make a point.

"Yes, I am," replied the Druid. He wondered if the man knew him by reputation or had seen other Druids. It didn't matter to him.

"Why were you singing a Christian song?"

The Druid looked at the man understanding his earlier statement as a result of the question. He answered, "Songs need to be sung occasionally or else they die."

"It's a Gospel song. Why do you care if it lives or dies?" asked the man.

"That song still has a purpose. If I don't keep it alive, who will?" answered the Druid.

He looked over the railing of the bridge again and commented, "It sure is a long way down there. I'm not sure if it is enough to kill you quickly, but you'd be assured of drowning at the least."

The man started at the comment. He'd had that thought several times while sitting there and had wondered if he would rather move to where the water wasn't quite so deep and he'd be sure of the fall killing him. Rather than comment directly on what the Druid had said, he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"This is the bridge where Runnin' Man died. Just thought I'd stop by and pay my respects to him," answered the Druid with a melancholy smile.

"Runnin' Man?"

"Yes. Runnin' Man was a hobo that I knew in my younger days. Poor guy suffered from the shits for years and was always running for an outhouse. That's how he got his name."

"How'd he die?" asked the man wondering if the Runnin' Man had jumped or met an accidental death.

"He was standing up on top of a box car looking back over the end of the train. Didn't see the bridge or the beams that crossed it. Foolish thing to do, but lots of folks do foolish things when they are tired."

The man on the railing looked down at the river below. The water looked dark and foreboding from that height. Slow moving water always looked like it held dark secrets in its depths. It wouldn't be too much longer before the sun would set so and he wouldn't be able to see the water below. He said, "I guess you don't have to be tired to do foolish things."

"There's all kinds of tired," replied the Druid.

The man watched as the river became lost in the increasing darkness while the Druid watched the man. After a while, the Druid climbed up on the railing. Noticing what the Druid was doing, the man asked, "You getting ready to jump, too?"

"Nah. I just didn't want to get hit by the train when it crosses the bridge. It'll be here in about a minute and there's not enough time to get off the bridge."

The man stared at the Druid with a blank expression for a moment before he asked, "How do you know that?"

"I'm listening to the rails. Better hold on or it'll blow you off the bridge," answered the Druid as he hooked his legs onto the lower railing and grabbed a portion of the I-beam. He noticed the other man did the same.

In less than a minute, the train entered the bridge with a rush and a roar. The blast of wind, air displaced by the front of the train, threatened to blow both men off the bridge. The noise of the engine and wheels riding rails deafened them. If they hadn't taken the time to brace themselves, it was likely one or both of them would have been pushed to the water below.

It took a long time for the train to clear the bridge. With fewer trains running, they tended to be longer now than they were in the past. Each gap between trains generated a blast of air that felt like a huge hand hitting their bodies. As the train buffeted them, the man on the rail tried to figure out who was the Druid next to him. It took most of the train, but he figured out the identity of the Druid.

When the train had gone and their ears had recovered, the man said, "You must be Happy Harry."

"I am, and you are?"

The man licked his lips wondering how to answer the question. Should he give his birth name or the name that everyone else used for him? He decided on the later and answered, "Shadow."

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?" asked Harry in a radio announcer voice.

"Only the shadow knows," answered Shadow in a flat voice. He had no idea how many times he had been subject to that exchange. It wasn't funny the first time that he heard it and it wasn't funny now.

"I imagine that you know a lot about the evil that lurks in the hearts of man. I bet people have tortured you for years about your appearance," commented the Druid.

Shadow had thought he was hidden enough in the darkness that his birthmark had not been too visible. It covered half of his face and neck like a purple bruise from a slap delivered by an angry God. Over the years it had swollen to the point were it was disfiguring. The result was that men could not look him in the eye, children ran from him, and women shivered in revulsion. Shadow had gotten his nickname because he moved from dark place to dark place so that no one would see him.

"I'm a monster," replied Shadow.

"Really, I hadn't noticed."

Angry, Shadow leaned closer to the Druid without concern about his precarious perch. Pulling away the long black hair that hid half his face, he challenged, "Look at this face and tell me that it isn't the face of a monster!"

Harry examined the face with a calm and critical demeanor that Shadow found unsettling. The Druid hadn't flinched, grimaced, or frowned at what he was seeing. After a minute, Harry shook his head and said, "Nothing monstrous there. All I see is the face of a man that has been hurt by the words of people that are not very nice."

"Are you crazy?"

"Not in my opinion, but I'm sure that you'll find people who disagree with me," answered Harry with a smile. He untangled himself from his perch on the railing and stretched before adjusting his robe.

As Shadow stared at him, Harry turned and walked away without saying another word. Confused by the behavior of the man and wondering if he had somehow insulted him, Shadow asked, "Where are you going?"

"I've got hungry folks to feed," called out Harry as he waved a hand over his head in a gesture of farewell.

Shadow watched the Druid walk off into the dark. Harry had not said one word to talk him out of jumping, but he wasn't going to jump as a result of talking to him. It made him realize how much he missed talking to people. The temporary relief from loneliness had been like a glass of cold water to a man dying of thirst.

Shadow climbed off the railing and followed the tracks into town. His destination was five miles away, but he'd arrive when it was dark. He always entered a new town when it was dark. That way, no one would see him.

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Shadow stuck his head out the opening of the storm drain and stared at the scummy waterway into which it drained. The smell of rotting plant life assaulted his nose, but he ignored it. Dark was another half an hour away, but he was hungry. He had worked out a path from his current home to an area filled with restaurants that allowed him to move without being seen. He crawled out of the storm drain, stepping into the muck that grew within the waterway. His shoes would smell until the mud dried, at which time the mud would flake off.

Slipping from dark place to dark place, he had reached an area behind a warehouse when his journey was interrupted. Two men stepped out of the warehouse carrying a couple of boxes each. They weren't supposed to be there. One of them spotted Shadow and called over to the other, "We've got company."

Shadow looked over at the two men fully aware that they were stealing things from the warehouse. As far as he was concerned, their theft of goods from the warehouse wasn't his problem. His problem was his hunger. He went on his way while the men loaded the boxes into a white van. He followed the circuitous path that he had planned, rather than a direct path away from the warehouse. He realized his mistake when the two men stepped in front of him carrying baseball bats.

One of the men said, "We can't have you telling people what you saw here."

Shadow looked over at the man that had spoken. He was a large white man with a belly that hung over his belt. He had short hair that was hidden under a baseball cap that sported the logo for the local team. He could make out the prison tattoos on the guy's meaty arms and knew that the man was more than willing to use the bat.

The smaller man took one good look at Shadow and then said, "Fuck! You've got to be the ugliest man on earth."

The smaller man had wild eyes with a patch of deadness in them. They were the kind of eyes that suggested he had sniffed paint a dozen times too many. Crazy from fumes and enough dead brain cells to undermine his control, the guy was very dangerous. This was the kind of guy that scared Shadow the most.

Trying to talk his way out of the situation, Shadow said, "I don't want any trouble. I just want to get something to eat."

"Too late for that," said the big man as he swung the bat.

Shadow backed away, avoiding the bat, knowing that he was going to get hit at some point in time. The only questions that remained in his mind concerned where, how hard, and how many times he would get hit. The sound of glass shattering interrupted the two men attacking him. The bigger guy looked at the source and swore, "Shit. That bastard just broke the windows on my van."

Unable to help himself, Shadow glanced in the direction of the van. Standing beside the van was Happy Harry. Shocked, he watched Harry swing his staff and take out a headlight. Little shards of glass caught the light and twinkled as they fell to the ground. He wanted to shout for Harry to run, but the movement of a baseball bat captured his attention.

The two men split up, the larger one going after Harry and the smaller one swinging his bat at Shadow. Retreating from the wild swings, Shadow kept backing away believing that the Druid was going to die because of him. His attempts to keep from getting hit failed as the bat finally connected with his left arm. As the pain exploded in his arm, he collapsed to the ground full aware that he was about to die. The little guy was going to beat him until he was dead.

Rather than striking him with the bat, the little guy started kicking Shadow. He was enjoying the physical contact as it allowed a more personal delivery of pain. Most of the blows hit Shadow along his arms and legs as he curled into a fetal position in an attempt to escape injury. The blows suddenly came to an end.

Not trusting the quiet, Shadow remained curled in a ball. The sound of retching filled the silence. Opening his eyes, Shadow saw the little guy on the ground throwing up as he held his hands to his groin. The retching noises originated from the little guy.

Harry asked, "Can you get up?"

Shadow slowly uncurled his body and took stock of his condition. His left arm hung uselessly to his side, but nothing else seemed broken. With great difficulty, he rose from the ground and stood on legs that wobbled as if to reject the command to support his weight. His legs, arms, and side hurt from where he had been kicked.

"Good, let's go get you checked out," said Harry as he gestured in the direction he wanted the other man to go.

"I'm don't want to go to a doctor," replied Shadow even though he felt anything other than all right.

"Your arm is broken," countered Harry as he headed towards where he had parked his lunch wagon.

Too weak to argue, Shadow followed behind Harry holding his arm to his side. It hurt beyond belief to hold his arm, but that was nothing compared to allowing it to flop around. He reached the lunch wagon and got into the passenger seat while Harry held the door open for him. Settling into the seat, he looked around the truck wondering what a Druid would be doing driving such an unlikely vehicle.

Harry got in the driver's seat and turned on the motor. A few seconds later, they were out of the parking lot and headed into a more populated area that was near the restaurants that had been Shadow's destination. As the truck swayed from side to side, Harry said, "Sorry about the ride. This old beast rocks and rolls with less restraint than a sixties' band."

Shadow would have stared at Harry, but the swaying of the truck was sending shooting pains through his arm and straight to his brain. When they reached a Fusion Foundation Clinic, he wondered if he had blacked out for part of the ride since he didn't remember the drive there.

The sight of the clinic nearly made Shadow sick to his stomach. He hated doctors with a passion. He decided that it wasn't too late to try to run away. All he had to do was stand up, pick a direction, and start running.

Harry held the door of the lunch wagon open and said, "Becky will make you feel all better."

Shadow slid out of the seat and stumbled as his feet made contact with the ground while debating if they wanted to hold him up. There was no way that he was going to run more than five feet before falling flat on his face. Harry reached out and steadied him. Shadow said, "Sorry about that."

"Sorry about being hurt? You didn't have anything to do with that except being unlucky enough to run into those two idiots," retorted Harry as he guided Shadow into the clinic.

After years of living in shadows and the dark, the well-lit reception room hurt his eyes. Shadow didn't see other patients in the waiting room or the reaction that the sight of the two men had on them. Squinting his eyes in reaction to the bright light, he finally reached the empty receptionist counter. Once there, he sagged and rested his body against it. Harry called out, "Becky, come here and take care of this gentleman."

Recognizing his voice, an elderly woman in a white uniform came out of the back. She took one look at Shadow and called out for help. "We've got a serious injury here. I'm going to need some help here, stat."

Several medical staff members rushed out of various rooms. Within seconds, Shadow was whisked into a treatment room. The medical staff had seen enough in their time to deal with his birthmark as though it wasn't even there. Everyone was focused on his injury. The arm was a serious matter and some of the staff wondered if they should transfer him to the hospital. The discussion came to an end when Dr. Rebecca Grant entered the room and, after taking one look at the arm, said, "Pack him up for travel. He needs surgery."

Things picked up after that as an ambulance was summoned and his arm was restrained for travel. Shadow had no idea what happened to Harry as he was put on a cart and wheeled out of the clinic. By the time he reached the hospital, Shadow wasn't in any shape to care. He had slipped into unconsciousness along the way.

The light hurt his eyes as he lay in the hospital bed. He had requested the nurses to turn down the lights several times, but they had ignored his requests. When a doctor came into the room, Shadow complained, "Can we turn off the lights? I don't like to be seen."

The doctor replied, "This is a hospital. We want to be able see you."

"I scare people," replied Shadow.

The doctor ignored the words his patient was spouting and turned to examine the birthmark. It was of the type commonly called a Port Wine Stain and was beginning to exhibit cobbling. Before much longer, it would really start looking hideous. After a minute of touching the skin, the doctor said, "I'll have to run some tests on this."

"Why? God cursed me at birth and made me ugly," retorted Shadow. He had suffered the attentions of hack doctors for longer than he cared to discuss.

"Bah!" answered the doctor. He traced the edge of the birthmark with a finger and nodded his head as he worked.

"Just patch up my arm and let me go! God made me ugly and you won't change that." shouted Shadow getting irritated at the doctor's continued probing of his face.

"What's wrong with your arm?" asked the doctor. He looked down and noticed the cast on it.

"What kind of quack are you?"

"I'm a dermatologist," answered the doctor.

"Get out of here. Some asshole broke my arm and put me in here. That doesn't give you the right to poke and prod me," shouted Shadow as he struggled to get out of the bed.

As a child, his mother had taken him from one doctor to another trying to get rid of the birthmark. After she had gone to every legitimate specialist that had come to her attention, she started going to the fakes. She had spent money that would have helped the family. He didn't trust doctors. All they wanted was money for promises that they weren't required to deliver.

Shadow unleashed years of anger, aiming his tirade in the general direction of the doctor. After five minutes, a rapping noise at the doorway interrupted the angry man. As Shadow turned to see what had caused the noise, Harry said, "Shadow, let the man do his job."

The doctor stepped back and stared at Harry taking in his green robe and shepherd's staff. He had heard of the Druid, but didn't really believe that anyone like him could actually exist. Awed, he said, "You're Happy Harry."

"I am. Now get to your evaluation," replied Harry as he looked at Shadow. The expression on his face suggested that it was best for Shadow not to argue.

The look had only a minor effect on the man in the bed. Shadow glowered at Harry, angry that the Druid had taken the side of the doctor. He would have crossed his arms, but his left arm wasn't moving. He challenged, "Why are you taking his side?"

"I don't take sides," replied Harry unperturbed by Shadow's accusation.

"Then throw this quack out of here," snarled Shadow.

"I have to live by two rules and you are making it hard for me to remember that," replied Harry. "If you keep it up, I'm going to stuff a sock in your face so that you'll stop abusing the doctor."

The doctor stepped back and said, "Thanks. I'm done with my examination."

Sarcastically, Shadow asked, "And what is your diagnosis?"

"You have Type III Grade III Macular Lesions. It won't be too much longer before you move into Grade IV Lesions," answered the doctor.

"Shit, I could have told you that," replied Shadow, "and I can tell you that there is no treatment for it."

"Really? I didn't know that," replied the doctor sarcastically. He was beginning to get angry with his patient. There were times when patients felt they knew more than the doctors did and didn't know anything. He had spent years in medical school learning his craft and was still paying for that education.

Harry entered the room and put a hand on Shadow's good arm. He looked down at the man for a minute and said, "I'm supposed to protect the weak from the strong. It's a tough rule to live by at times, but I'm going to ask you to stop abusing your doctor. He's attempting to help you."

"You should be protecting me from him," growled Shadow.

Harry raised his eyebrows and shook his head as he looked over at the doctor. The doctor examined the patient for a moment before moving over to a chair to take a seat. He looked around the room collecting his thoughts. It wasn't rare for someone with that condition to have been through lots of specialists who promised a lot and delivered nothing.

"Using Laser Surgery we can get rid of most of the swelling and a percentage of the discoloration. The skin won't ever be the same color as your normal skin color, but it won't be so purple," said the doctor.

"Oh, now you are going to shoot me with a Laser. No thank you," replied Shadow.

The doctor was going to argue, but Harry turned to the doctor and stated, "Hippocrates is supposed to have said, 'First, do no harm.' I will hold you to that."

"Pardon?" asked the doctor knowing that it was commonly thought that the phrase mentioned by the Druid was the first line of the Hippocratic Oath. It had never been a part of the oath, but the Druid hadn't made that claim.

"If he rejects your offer of medical care, then you must accept that. To do otherwise would cause him great harm," answered Harry realizing that more was at work within Shadow than met the eye.

The doctor was silent for a moment and then nodded his head in agreement. An unwilling patient wouldn't recover and to spend his time treating someone that didn't want help was a waste of time. He asked, "Will you accept treatment?"

"No," answered Shadow, "I won't. I might look like a monster, but I've been subjected to enough humiliations from doctors like yourself that I know who is the real monster in the room."

Nodding, Harry said, "So be it. I'm sorry you wasted your time, doctor."

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The back of the roach coach, as Harry called it, had become home for Shadow. Harry insisted that he stay with him until the arm was suitably healed for him to strike out on his own. In return for a bed in the homeless hotels and three squares a day, Shadow helped Harry prepare meals for the other homeless men. It helped the time pass and was better than living in his normal dark places such as sewers, abandoned buildings, and subway tunnels.

When Harry passed out food, Shadow hid in the front of the truck where he wouldn't be seen. At night, he would slip away from the truck and explore whatever city they were currently visiting. Every month, he went to a doctor to have his arm examined. Each doctor visit was preceded by a minor battle, as Shadow didn't trust doctors.

Harry nudged Shadow awake with his foot. As the man struggled to get his wits about him, Harry said, "Time to get the cast off."

"I can remove it myself," countered Shadow in what was an automatic response.

Despite all that Harry had done for him, he automatically fought each trip to the doctor. He liked and respected Harry; the Druid had done a lot for him. Although Harry never commented on his birthmark, Shadow kept from his view as much as possible. No one deserved to look upon such ugliness, particularly a good man like Harry.

Laughing, Harry said, "Don't worry, there won't be any doctor examinations this time. We'll go to a clinic and have them remove it there."

"If you say so," replied Shadow making sure that when he sat up, he was facing away from Harry.

"You don't have to hide your face from me, Shadow. I don't think you're ugly," commented Harry. After six months of having Shadow live in the back of the truck, Harry had hoped that Shadow would give up his compulsion to hide his face.

"I know what I am," replied Shadow. He waited for Harry to move up to the front of the truck before turning around to serve himself a cup of coffee from the always full coffee urn. He only took a quarter cup since more than that would spill as soon as Harry started to drive.

From the front of the truck, Harry said, "There's knowing and then there's knowing."

Shadow shook his head trying to figure out what Harry meant by that. Half the time he dealt with Harry, he had no clue what the man was saying to him. Often, days would pass before he would figure out that the old man had been giving him advice. Once he did figure it out, he was always amazed at how deep the man was.

"Hold on. This old thing is less stable than I am," Harry quipped as he pulled out of the homeless hotel. The truck tipped over to the point where Shadow was afraid that it was going to fall over. Defying the laws of physics, the truck returned to an upright position.

Shadow waited until Harry came to a stop at a traffic light before taking a sip of his coffee. He wondered how the Druid managed to drive the lunch wagon with such disregard to the fact that it was top heavy. Anyone else would have tipped it over three times on the way to the clinic. It only proved to him that Harry was something special.

He hadn't had enough time to finish the coffee before they pulled up to the clinic. He gamely tried to finish the cup as Harry led him to the door. Even though it had happened every time that Harry had taken him to a Fusion Foundation Clinic, it still surprised Shadow when Harry knew everyone that worked there.

As they removed the cast from Shadow's arm, Harry flirted outrageously with every woman in the clinic. Shadow couldn't believe how the women, young and old, reacted to the old man. He stared at a woman in her sixties when she giggled like a schoolgirl. It seemed like some law of nature had been violated. Harry just winked and pinched her on the rear, producing even more giggles.

When the cast had been removed, Shadow stood and flexed his arm. While Harry was busy talking to an overweight nurse, Shadow saw his opportunity and slipped out of the clinic. He didn't want to be more of a burden than he had been over the past few months. Despite his guilt, he slipped into the growing shadows of an alley behind the clinic.

Shadow felt horrible when Harry came out and looked around as if trying to find him. The old man looked disappointed in him and that hurt. He ducked into the darker shadows and waited for Harry to leave.

When Harry had left, Shadow made his way through the dark alleyways of the city to the door of a dingy bar that advertised packaged goods. Deciding that the bar was dark enough inside, he entered and purchased a bottle of whiskey. The bottle cost him most of his money, but he hoped that it would allow him to forget the hurt look on the Druid's face.

He searched most of the night looking for a dark place to hide. He found a place well before dawn. It was the basement of collapsed building. From the smell, the only visitors that ever came in it were the rats. He could live with rats; they didn't care about ugly.

Once he had a place, he opened the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned his throat and stomach. He fought the urge to allow it to come back up. The first swallow was always the worst. He took another and then another. He didn't stop until the bottle was drained and the room spun before his eyes.

In the dark corner of the room, he swore that he could see the hurt expression on the Druid's face. Worse than that, he knew that he had disappointed the old man. He rubbed his eyes in shame. He considered that the Druid was the only friend that he had and he had let him down.

Throwing the empty bottle across the room, Shadow shouted, "I'm sorry."

His slurred words and the sound of the bottle breaking echoed in the enclosed basement. There was no answer to his apology. He had not expected one, although he needed one more than anything. The loneliness of living in the dark descended upon him even as the liquor had the desired effect. Alone once again, Shadow passed out on the floor.



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Chapter 2

The building rested on pilings three feet off the ground. Around the edge of the building, the owner had put a wooden skirt to hide the bare underside of the building. In a corner created by a set of stairs leading up to the building proper and the wall, a couple of boards had been removed. The opening was the entry to Shadow's current home.

Shadow liked staying there for one reason and one reason alone. That reason was the view that it afforded him. From the little opening, he could see up into a window of the building across the way. He wasn't sure what kind of business it was, but he could occasionally see oriental women walking around topless in the window.

When he had been a kid, he'd heard that oriental women tended to be small breasted but the women in that building barely had the beginnings of breasts. Despite the small size of their breasts, Shadow took a great deal of pleasure in watching them. He had lost track of how many times he had jacked off while looking at the view.

This was as close to having sex with a woman as he was likely to get. His disfigured face chased away everyone. Even whores wouldn't take pity on him regardless of how much money he offered. His ugliness forced him to live in the dark forgotten areas of the city. It was a lonely life and one that he thought to end many times. All that kept him alive was the memory of happy days spent with Harry. The man had talked to him and treated him like a real person. It gave him hope.

Shadow heard the screams and shifted so that he could see what was going on. One of the women had burst out of the door and almost ran into the dumpster. When she paused to get her bearings, an oriental man had come out and thrown her to the ground. For a moment he stared at the woman, only then realizing that she was probably only fourteen or fifteen years old at most.

The man had found something on the ground and started whipping her with it. Confused, Shadow had no idea what to do. The one thing he did know was that it was wrong to hit a young woman like that. A loud bang echoed through the alley and caught his attention. He stared in shock on discovering Harry standing next to dumpster striking it with his shepherd's staff.

When the man stopped beating the girl to talk to Harry, Shadow moved out of his hiding spot thinking that he might be able to help the girl. Harry had once helped him and he felt that perhaps this was his chance to return the favor. The girl started to move and the man grabbed her by the hair forcing her back down.

Shadow moved closer in the hope of helping when the sound of a pistol shot ringing out surprised him. Horrified, Shadow watched as Harry fell into a pile of trash near where he was hiding. Forgetting completely about the girl, Shadow crawled over to Harry to check him out. There was blood, a lot of it, flowing from the center of Harry's chest.

Hidden in the dark, he picked up the old man and carried him out of the alley. At the end of the alley, he spotted another homeless man and called out, "A guy back there shot Harry."

The word spread like wildfire as Shadow carried Harry on out into the street convinced that Harry was dead. When Harry moaned, he realized his mistake. The old man was a lot heavier than he looked, but Shadow wasn't going to let him go. Holding onto the Druid the best that he could, he ran up the street shouting to everyone, "They shot Harry."

Shadow had no idea how far the clinic was from the warehouse district or how long it took him to get Harry there. All he remembered was bursting into the clinic shouting, "They shot Harry. Happy Harry has been shot. Help him."

The effect of his words was as if an explosion had happened. Nurses, doctors, and others came from everywhere to take care of Harry. It reminded him of ants riled as a result of someone kicking over an anthill. In the center of the maelstrom, Shadow stood lost and alone as the medical personnel took charge. Once Harry had been whisked away, Shadow moved over to a wall and sank down in exhaustion as tears ran down his face.

A nurse nudged his shoulder and said, "Excuse me, but you need to get over to the waiting area. This is the middle of the doctors station."

Shadow looked up at the nurse and asked, "Harry? Is he going to be okay?"

Seeing the tears running down his deformed face, the nurse took pity on him. She knelt down and said, "He's in pretty bad shape. They're doing what they can to stabilize him and then an ambulance will take him over to the hospital."

"Will he be okay?"

"That's for his Gods and Goddesses to decide," answered the nurse with a sigh.

That answer wasn't good enough for Shadow. The man that hurt Harry had to pay for his actions. He stood up and said, "I'll be back to find out how he's doing."

"You need to stay here to talk to the police," replied the nurse.

"No. There's work to be done and I have to make sure that it is done correctly," replied Shadow as he strode to the door with a purpose.

The nurse tried to stop him, but once outside the man disappeared into the shadows. She looked around confused and returned inside. Concerned about the man's role in Harry's shooting, she called the police to let them know that he had left and provided them with a description of the man.

Outside, Shadow made his way back to the warehouse district. This time he didn't stick to the shadows but walked down the middle of the street. As he went, he called out to all the homeless that he saw along the way, "A man shot Harry in the warehouse district. Go there."

A crowd of homeless men had gathered in the area, but no one knew the details of what had happened to Harry. Shadow went from group to group telling them the story about how the oriental man had shot Harry. The blood on his clothes gave mute testimony to his story. To each group, he said, "We surround the building and allow no one in or out. We don't move, we don't speak, and we don't break the law. We just watch the building. If Harry dies, then every man in that building will die by our hands."

The groups of homeless men and women nodded their heads in acknowledgement and agreement. Harry was one of them and to a person they all believed that Harry was the best of them. They would do their part to make sure that anyone who hurt him paid for it. Shadow sent a group out to get more people.

Going over to another group, he told them, "Keep the police away. Block the roads and the sidewalk. Don't move, don't speak, and don't break the law. Just don't let the police near here."

After a couple of hours, there were almost a thousand homeless people, streetwalkers, and addicts surrounding the building. Everyone that was no one had showed up. Shadow was everywhere, organizing people and keeping everything under control. He didn't care who saw him or what they thought of his appearance. The only thing that kept him going was that the man who hurt Harry was going to pay for his actions.

It was after midnight when Shadow noticed that a few people were moving out of place. He started to make his way over to find out what was the matter. Reaching the center of the disturbance, he found everyone in the area pointing at him. He went over to investigate with the expectation that it would be the police to take him away.

Suddenly, he was face to face with a red robed Druid. Frowning, he asked, "How's Harry?"

"Harry is over in the bus," answered the Druid.

Shadow asked, "Is he okay?"

"Yes. We need a distraction."

Shadow thought about what kind of distraction a thousand people could provide. He asked, "How about we march on the building?"

"You can march, but don't get any nearer than you are," replied the Druid, "since we don't want anyone to get in the way."

"Okay."

Shadow spent ten minutes setting it up. He got a wild idea that they would stomp a hundred steps and then they would shout Harry's name a hundred times in the same cadence. If that didn't attract attention, he didn't know what would.

Standing in the middle of the crowd, as they stomped their feet in time with each other, was an amazing experience. It sounded as if a giant was approaching and the ground literally shook under his feet. When everyone started shouting, it sounded like a giant was shouting, "Harry."

When the Druids had done what they were going to do, the word spread that they could stop. The man that had hurt Harry was in the custody of a Druid and that they would take care of him. As the crowd of homeless started to leave, Shadow found that he had little to do.

One of the homeless men handed him a half-empty wine bottle still wrapped in the paper bag in which it had been purchased. He said, "Finish it. You deserve a drink for all you did."

Left holding a bottle of wine, Shadow decided it was time to return to his dark place. He had done all he could for Harry. He returned to his hiding spot under the building and watched the few homeless people milling around in the alley while sipping wine from the bottle. The wine sat heavy on his empty stomach, but he didn't care.

After setting the bottle of wine down, he looked out from his hiding spot in time to see Harry exit the building with two oriental girls and a woman in a green robe. The other homeless men were with them. When the red robed Druid had said that Harry was okay, he hadn't realized just how well Harry was doing. The man was walking around as if he hadn't been shot.

Startled to see Harry in such good shape, he knocked over the bottle of wine. It rolled into the alley making a lot of noise in the quiet that had descended over the warehouse district. He listened in surprise as Harry called over his shoulder, "Goodnight Shadow. Thanks for everything."

Shadow, shocked at the acknowledgement, didn't answer until long after Harry was gone. In a quiet voice, he said, "You're welcome, Harry."

-------

An old boxcar, parked on the edge of a junkyard had become home for Shadow. The owner of the junkyard, a man nearly as ugly as Shadow, had hired him as a night watchman. The pay was bad, the hours were horrible, and the work was boring, but it was better than having nothing, doing nothing, and sleeping in a storm drain. At least he didn't have to work hard to avoid people.

Shadow sat in the door of the boxcar, his legs dangling down and swinging, as he prepared his lunch. Pulling the top off a can of chicken salad, he sniffed it to check that it was still good. He dumped the contents onto a day-old hamburger bun. It wasn't much of a meal, but it was better than some meals that he had eaten in the past. One of the advantages of working was getting to eat food that hadn't come out of a dumpster.

He took a bite of the sandwich and washed it down with a swig of his beer. It was hard to believe that beer was cheaper than soft drinks in this area. A noise off to his right suggested that a customer was working his way through the assorted junk scattered around the area. Cursing his luck that he couldn't even enjoy his lunch without being interrupted, he scrambled inside the boxcar.

"Shadow, I know you're in there."

The voice sounded familiar, but Shadow knew that it couldn't be him. Curiosity won over his desire to hide. He stuck his head out the door and saw his visitor standing a few feet away from the boxcar. Emotions battled within as he asked, "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"I came here to ask a favor of you," answered the Druid as he examined the old boxcar. He ran a hand along the surface of the boxcar as though his touch restored the past to him.

"Sure. What can I do for you?" Shadow ducked his head back inside the boxcar. It made no sense to make Harry ill by showing the man his ugly face.

"I've got a problem and you're the one that I think can help me with it."

"Anything you need Harry. What can I do?"

Smiling at the empty door, Harry shook his head in amazement that after all this time Shadow still hid from view. He said, "I'll tell you about it as I take you there."

"How long will we be gone?"

"For a couple of months, at least," answered Harry with a smile.

Shadow paused to consider what Harry was asking him to do. The Druid wanted him to give up a job and his home without telling him any of the details about what he needed. Still, it was Harry doing the asking. It would be nice to travel for a couple of months with Harry again. He looked around his current home and started to pack up his belongings, meager as they were. "I'll come with you."

As Harry started the motor of the roach coach, he said, "Hold on. This here beast is about as graceful as a three legged dog humping a basketball."

Wedging himself in the back of the truck where Harry couldn't see him, Shadow didn't need a reminder of just how bad riding with Harry was. After five minutes in the vehicle, he swore that it was worse than ever. On one occasion when the truck leaned over, he swore Harry could have reached out the window and touched the road.

Harry broke the silence when he said, "I really liked your home back there. Spent many a day in those in my time. Of course, they were moving when I was in them. When they stopped, that was when you got into trouble."

Shadow replied, "It was nice enough, but it didn't have a toilet."

"You could have used a thunder pot," remarked the old man. He had used many a bucket for that purpose over his lifetime. "Yep. Lots of folks get spoiled by flush toilets, but there's nothing wrong with a good old-fashioned thunder pot."

Wondering what Harry wanted, Shadow didn't comment on the topic of conversation. He sat back waiting for Harry to tell him what favor he needed. When Harry didn't say anything right away, he said, "You were saying."

Harry said, "You know. There are some folks, in New York, who pay over three thousand dollars a month to rent a space about the same as that of your boxcar. Can you imagine that? I sure can't; not when there is a whole world for you to live in."

"Are we going to New York?"

"Nah, just up the road here about three miles," answered Harry.

Three miles up the road put them in the red-light district of town. The fact that Harry would have business there didn't surprise Shadow. Harry helped people in all parts of town where bums, drunks, whores, and addicts lived. He was curious why the Druid would need his help in such an area.

After a minute of silence, Harry said, "People pay all kinds of prices to live in one place or another. Some folks will live in mansions in the middle of nowhere, preferring to pay lots of money for the size of the house and to not have neighbors. Others will crowd together like sardines, preferring to pay in a lack of privacy rather than in money."

"I suppose so," replied Shadow not quite sure of the point that Harry was making.

"Yes sir. You were willing to work for a man to live in a boxcar so that you wouldn't have people around that could see you. I guess the price you were paying for those living accommodations was loneliness."

Shadow didn't say a word about Harry's assessment of his situation. There was a lot of truth in his words, but it wasn't a question of his willingness to pay that price. That was the price imposed upon him by his ugliness.

After a few turns that nearly made Shadow lose his lunch, Harry pulled the truck over to the side of the road in front of a little wood-framed house. With a smile, Harry said, "We're here."

"I thought you were going to tell me about this favor," said Shadow curious about what kind of a situation Harry was getting him into.

"Oh, I guess I did say something to that effect," replied the Druid with a smile that suggested he had no intention of telling him anything until they had reached this location.

"So tell me."

"A young lady had a rather misfortunate accident with a tanning lamp. She's become blind and needs someone to take care of her until her eyesight returns," said Harry.

Shadow stared at the Druid wondering if he had suddenly gone senile. He stuttered for a moment before he was able to say, "Are you crazy? Why on earth would you pick me?"

"You don't mind the dark and she's scared of it. You don't like people to see you and she can't see. She needs someone to care for her and you don't have anything better to do. Sounds perfect to me," answered Harry as he opened the door to exit the truck.

It was a frantic Shadow that followed Harry into the house trying to talk him out of it. Shadow froze when he saw the young woman, nineteen years old, sitting in a chair with bandages over her eyes. She was moving her head nervously from side to side trying to figure out what was happening. Worried, she called out, "Is that you Harry?"

"Yes, Ginger," answered Harry, "it's me. I've brought a guardian to watch over you."

"Who is she?"

"It's a he. His name is Shadow," answered the Druid turning around to wink at man standing behind him.

The woman reacted with a puzzled smile and asked, "You got me a seeing eye dog?"

"No, Ginger. It's a real live man."

Shadow took a minute to look at the woman. She was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt for some music group. It was hard to tell what her body looked like with her sitting in the chair as she was. She had long brown hair that had been dyed blond at some point in the past, but the hair had grown out so that she had a brown streak along her part. The white bandages covered most of her facial features.

Ginger frowned at the news that Harry had brought a man into her house. Disturbed, she said, "You brought a man here to take care of me. Are you crazy?"

"I asked him the same thing," said Shadow pleased to know that he wasn't alone in his assessment of the Druid.

She started at the sound of his voice and turned her head in his general direction. It was as though she were trying to look through the bandages at him. She said, "Don't give me that bullshit."

Although his companions might see it differently, Harry saw that things were progressing exceptionally well, better than he had expected. Satisfied, he walked over to the door and said, "Well, I'll see you kids later. I'll be back in a month or so."

Shadow felt like he had been sucker punched. He didn't know anything about watching over a blind person, much less a blind woman. He watched in horror as Harry walked out the door and to the truck.

He called out to the Druid, "You can't leave us here like this!"

Harry waved to him as the truck pulled away leaving the two of them behind. Shadow stepped out of the door hoping that this was just some kind of joke on Harry's part. He watched hoping the truck would stop a little ways down the street and that Harry would return to the house. It didn't take long before the truck disappeared around a corner and was gone from sight. Shadow looked over where the truck had been and saw that his possessions were sitting on the curb.

Stamping his foot on the porch, Shadow swore, "Shit!"

Ginger, unable to see what was going on, asked, "What's happening?"

He answered, "He's gone. I can't believe that he did that to me."

"Do it to you? What about me?" asked Ginger.

The young woman had just cause to be worried. From her perspective, her situation was bad and was becoming worse. Earlier that day, she had become blind and now she was stuck in a house with a total stranger. The only thing that kept her from screaming her head off was the fact that the man had been brought there by Harry. All the girls on the street knew about Harry and she knew he never hurt anyone that didn't deserve harsh treatment.

Shadow looked over at the woman and thought about what Harry had done to him. There was no way that he could leave now. If he left, the woman would be stuck there alone without anyone to look after her. There was no way that he would do that and Harry knew it.

He went out to the street and picked up his stuff from the curb knowing that if he left it there for long it would disappear. Returning to the house, he sat down in a chair and looked at Ginger with a frown on his face. She was twisting around trying to understand what was happening. Her actions reminded him of how helpless she was. Less than happy with his situation, he said, "Harry left."

"So now that you're alone with me, what happens next?" asked Ginger afraid that she knew what the answer was going to be. This guy could rape her for the next month and no one would know. She tensed expecting to feel his hands on her body.

"I don't know. I'm stuck here with you."

"I'm the one that's stuck here," grumbled Ginger. She knew men far better than most women. As an exotic dancer, she saw the hunger with which men looked at women. She knew men couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Stuck in the house with a man only meant that it wouldn't be long before he started touching her.

"Why do you think I'm stuck here? I can't leave you alone and helpless."

His comment made her feel a little better, but the silence that settled in the room unnerved her. Not being able to see made her feel very vulnerable. Not knowing what Shadow was doing feed her imagination. For all she knew, he was leering at her and undressing her with his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm thinking. Is there anyone that we can call on to watch over you?" asked Shadow.

"No, there's no one."

Ginger had family; her mother and stepfather were still alive. They were half the reason she was in this bind. The woman who gave birth to her was a religious fanatic. She felt that all problems could be solved through prayer, hard work, and physical punishment. If a wife gave her husband problems, she deserved the whipping she received. If a daughter gave the mother problems, then a whipping was just punishment.

Her stepfather gave lip service to religion, but preferred to use religion to his advantage. Honor your mother and father translated into thou shalt have sex with your stepfather without complaining. Take it in the ass and thank him for giving it to you. Complaining to the mother only brought additional punishment upon her.

"Damn," replied Shadow.

Ginger said, "You don't seem very happy at watching over me."

The ugly man had no idea what he was supposed to do with this woman. Could she eat by herself? Feeding her wouldn't be that tough. What if she needed him to help her dress? That would be tough to do without getting excited. Was he going to have to help her go to the bathroom? The idea disgusted him. The only up side of this entire situation was that she couldn't see him and he didn't need to hide his face from her.

"It's not that. I've got no idea what I'm supposed to do. I'm not a nurse or anything like that."

"I'm blind, not ill," replied Ginger.

-------

Ginger took a sip of her after dinner coffee and set the cup down while keeping a finger on the cup. She said, "That's a good cup of coffee."

"It's hard to ruin coffee," countered Shadow.

The ugly man took a sip of his cup of coffee as he considered living in a real house for the first time since he left his parent's place years earlier. It was a lot more work since he had to keep it clean rather than just move when too much trash accumulated. With Ginger being blind, it was important to keep things off the floor. She had already tripped over a bra that had fallen to the floor.

"So how is it that you can come and stay with me for an unspecified time?" asked Ginger.

"Simple," Shadow answered, "I live on the street and don't have any where else that I need to be."

Ginger hadn't realized that Shadow was homeless although it was the kind of thing that Harry would do. He'd been there for a couple of hours now and hadn't done anything strange, so her curiosity was roused. She asked, "Why are you living on the streets?"

The question that he didn't want to answer had been asked. He could lie to her and get away with it since she was blind. She would never know the truth, but that wouldn't be right. He answered, "I'm ugly."

"You're ugly?"

"Yes, I'm very ugly," answered Shadow moving as he spoke into a dark corner of the room.

The answer didn't make sense to Ginger. Most of her audience at the strip club was ugly. She had men grabbing at her naked body that were fat, bald, hair-lipped, scruffy, smelly, and probably diseased. That hadn't put them on the street. Some of them even thought they were good looking. She said, "I don't understand."

"I'm a monster. People can't look at me. I can't get a job."

"You might be ugly, but so are a lot of people and they work," countered Ginger. Even in her business there were a lot of strippers that weren't all that attractive. They didn't make much money, but it was more than they could make as a checkout girl in a discount store.

"Take half of a face, turn it purple, puff it up, and add some growths to it here and there. Imagine that the other half of the face is pale white. Mix in a little beard and that's what I look like. I'm probably the ugliest man alive," stated Shadow as though it were some great truth.

She couldn't imagine anyone looking like what he described, but was smart enough not to argue. People had their own views of themselves. She'd seen strippers with tits so huge that the weight of them hurt their backs. Still, she'd heard them complain that their breasts were too small. There were tons of skinny women that thought of themselves as too fat and died as a result of their attempts to lose more weight. She thought it odd that people could starve to death surrounded by food.

"Why did you leave home?"

Hearing the second worst question that he could be asked, Shadow sighed. There wasn't a nice answer to it. He answered, "My mother thought she was the reason that I was born ugly. She felt that somewhere on this planet was a person that could turn her ugly duckling son into a swan prince."

"What's wrong with that?"

"The rest of my family hated me because of it. My brother and sister didn't get presents on Christmas or for their birthdays. My dad couldn't even drink a beer during the Super Bowl game. My mother spent every penny that my dad made on every doctor, faith healer, and other quack that came to her notice. We flew from expert to expert so much that I had my own frequent flyer card when I was eight," answered Shadow.

There was so much anger in his voice that it shocked Ginger. She sat quiet, considering what he had said.

There was no way that Shadow could forget or forgive the looks he used to get from his brother and sister when he would return from another trip to a quack. They blamed him because he was the ugly one that got all of mother's attention. They blamed him when his mother pawned the television set so that she could take him to a healer in Mexico. The blame turned to hate over time. Try explaining to a seven-year-old kid that they didn't get a toy for their birthday because the ugly kid had to see a doctor.

The day came when the family went crazy. It started with an argument with his sister about some subject that he couldn't even remember. His brother stepped in and started swinging. Once that boundary had been crossed, the brother couldn't stop and continued as if he was going to kill Shadow. His father watched without saying a word and even tried to prevent his mother from interfering, but nobody could stop his mother from protecting the ugly one.

Shadow wasn't stupid. He knew that once the venom started to poison the family it would never end. One day, his mother wouldn't be there and that would be the end of Shadow. He left the house right after the beating, never to return. A fifteen-year-old kid, bruised and battered, hit the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back hoping only to survive.

He knew he was ugly, but didn't realize the full consequences of that fact. People shied away from him. Managers of businesses wouldn't hire him because he was too young and too ugly. He couldn't even suck cock for a living because no man wanted a diseased looking face anywhere within reach of his cock. Survival through criminal means was not possible since his appearance was too unique to be able to hide from the law.

"Everyone in my family hated me, except my mother and she was killing me with her love," said Shadow.

"Maybe now that they are older, they'll understand," commented Ginger. Even as she said it, she didn't believe it. Norman Rockwell was a liar and painted a world that didn't exist. Families didn't sit nicely around a turkey dinner discussing all that they were thankful for; they fought and threatened each other with the carving knife.

"Maybe they'll understand, but I'm not sure that I do," replied Shadow.

His mother, in trying to get him cured, had reinforced the idea that he was ugly with every word and gesture that she made. The rest of the family accepted that and re-enforced the idea. What else could he do but accept his families judgement? For that, he couldn't forgive them.

He said, "I can never forgive them."

Ginger was quiet as she contemplated what he had said. There was no way that she could forgive her mother and stepfather. To expect him to do it was the ultimate in hypocrisy. After a minute, she said, "I'm not sure that you should."



-------

Chapter 3

Ginger stepped out of the bathtub and put on the robe that Shadow had hung over the shower rod. The robe was soft and smelled like the outdoors. She smiled to herself at the thought that he must have hung it outside to dry instead of using dryer.

Two weeks into her blindness and she was only now coming to grips with it. People had said that when one sense was removed that the others become more developed. She could honestly say that was true. Her senses of smell, hearing, and taste had all improved. Of all her senses though, it was her sense of touch that had been developed the most.

An amazing revelation was how much her life depended on being able to see. Nothing in the house could be moved or she would trip over it. Dressing was far more difficult than she thought possible. Shadow made it easier by making sure that her clothes were right side out, but she still found herself putting on her panties backwards on occasion.

She felt guilty about how hard Shadow worked to make her comfortable. He not only cooked the meals, but he cut them up and feed them to her as well. From sunrise to sunrise, her needs came first. He watched over her like a hawk, often anticipating her desires before she even had a chance to express them.

Fumbling for a moment to find the belt of her robe, she tied it and reached out to locate the handle of the bathroom door. Finding it, she opened the door and went to step out of the room. Shadow's hand caught hers as he asked, "Where to?"

"The living room," she answered. "I'm not ready to dress yet."

Shadow led her to the living room while giving her a running commentary about what to watch out for as she walked. Watch out for the edge of the sofa, be careful not to trip on the rug, and other little warnings were standard fare while moving through the room. She smiled at the care he was giving her. She had come to enjoy the sound of his voice.

When they reached her chair, she settled into it. For a moment, her robe opened giving Shadow a good view of her upper body. Catching a glimpse of the gentle swelling of her breasts, he looked away feeling guilty about his actions. Lusting after her body was tantamount to taking advantage of the fact that she couldn't see. It just didn't seem right to him.

Adjusting her robe with a casualness that suggested she had no idea what had been shown, Ginger said, "You've never asked me what I did for a living. How come?"

For a moment, her question puzzled him. He answered, "I guess I never thought about it. Living on the street, you just don't think to ask people what they do for a living. If you ask a wino that question, you'll be the subject of jokes all day."

Ginger laughed as she realized that he was right. She replied, "I guess it would be a funny question to ask a wino or a bag lady."

He liked her laugh. Even more than that, he enjoyed the chance to talk with someone on a regular basis. Now that Ginger was settled in her chair, Shadow sat down in the chair that he normally occupied when they chatted in the living room. After a minute, he asked, "So what did you do for a living?"

"I was an exotic dancer," answered Ginger wishing she could see the expression on his face at her answer.

Years spent living on the streets had eliminated the kind of judgmental reaction that most people would have to that announcement. The sex industry was just another business and one that hired mostly women. Men earned a living with their bodies by lifting and carrying. Women earned a living with their bodies by removing their clothes. He didn't see a difference between the two.

He replied, "I tried to go into one of those places once, but the bouncer wouldn't let me in. He said I would scare the girls."

Ginger had never heard of such a thing. Bouncers kept the men out only after they had spent all of their money inside the club, not before. In a strip club, money talked and all else walked. The fastest way to get the money was to get the man hard and the easiest man to get hard was an ugly man.

She said, "That's ridiculous."

It wasn't ridiculous and he knew it. He hadn't been turned away once, but a dozen times in a dozen towns. He looked out the window of the house, realizing that night had settled and he had not turned on any lights in the house. He debated turning on the lights and decided that it didn't matter. He was used to the darkness and she couldn't see the light.

-------

"I'm getting fat."

Shadow looked across the room at Ginger and shook his head at her announcement. She had gained five pounds over the past few weeks and they actually looked pretty good on her. It gave her a softer gentler appearance. Sighing, he replied, "No you're not."

"I've got to start exercising. If my figure goes, I'll never make enough money when I get back to stripping," replied Ginger ignoring his denial of her weight gain.

Ginger knew that if the average housewife understood how demanding of a job it was to dance on a stage with no clothes, that they would treat exotic dancers with much more respect. It was tough enough walking, much less dancing, in six-inch heels. The pole dance required muscles most people didn't even know they had. It took a very fit woman to do the kind of physical activities that the job demanded. Adult women were not meant to do splits and high-kicks.

On second thought, she decided that housewives did understand how much work it was and hated strippers for the fact that they worked so hard to get money from their husbands. It was a pitiful amount considering how hard it was. In one night, they might be able to get a hundred dollars from a man, but the wife got the rest of the paycheck. More often than not, all the husbands received from their wives for their money was constant nagging to change for the better. Maybe that was what the husbands needed, but the strippers provided what the husbands wanted.

Shadow was quiet as he thought about it, wondering what he could do so that she could exercise. Sit ups, push ups, and other exercises wouldn't be much of a problem. Jogging and some of the other exercises that required her to move would be a problem. He grunted and then said, "I don't see a problem with exercising. Let me see if I can clear a spot for you to work out."

"I usually move all the furniture to the side of the living room," said Ginger.

"I'll have to mark where everything is, so that I can put the room back to the way it was."

"I'll change my clothes while you are doing that," suggested Ginger.

Looking over at her, he asked, "What do you want to wear?"

"My sports bra and gym shorts," she answered. That was all that she normally wore when working out around the house.

A sports bra? Shadow stared at her wondering what a sports bra was and why she would wear only a bra while working out in front of him. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What's a sports bra?"

With help, he managed to find the clothes that she had requested. The sports bra didn't look anything like a normal bra. It didn't look anything like lingerie, but more like a heavy-duty tube top. He could imagine her wearing that in front of him without being concerned by what he would see.

While she changed clothes, he pushed the furniture in the living room to the side. He had marked the spots where the individual pieces had been set with some masking tape. At least he could move the furniture back so that she wouldn't have to learn where everything was all over again.

He had just finished pushing her favorite chair over to the side when he heard the bedroom door open. Rushing over, he said, "Wait. Let me lead you to the area that I've cleared."

"Thank you," she replied.

Ginger waited for him and then allowed him to guide her into the living room. It wasn't a long trip, but if she had tried it alone she would most certainly have tripped over a piece of furniture. It only brought home how much she had come to rely on Shadow. He did everything for her, but asked nothing of her.

Shadow watched as Ginger started her warm-up stretches. Since it had been several weeks since she had exercised, she was very stiff and it took her a long time for her muscles to stretch. He watched amazed at how limber she was. Her leg splits were the most extreme that he had ever seen.

The workout lasted almost two hours. Through out, Shadow watched over her to make sure that she didn't move out of the cleared area. During little breaks, he provided bottles of water when she asked for them. The time flew by for Shadow. It was a great pleasure to sit back and watch her move her body. This was the first time that he really had a chance to see her body without it being covered by oversize t-shirts and baggy pants.

Ginger enjoyed the workout. It was the first time since she had become blind that she had moved around. Her body reacted with more than normal complaints at being put through its paces, but that was countered by the sudden freedom that she felt. She had often said that she could go through her dance routine with her eyes closed. Now she knew that it was true.

The end of her exercise period included major portions of her dance routine. Shadow had watched unable to believe that a woman could move with such an erotic grace. He was disappointed when she finally ended her workout.

"That was amazing," said Shadow when she finally stopped her routine.

"What? My workout?"

"Sure. You move with so much grace that it almost takes my breath away to watch you," answered Shadow. Not only had her workout left him breathless, it had left him with a raging erection.

"You liked watching me run in place?"

"Sure. Now I imagine that you are ready for a shower," said Shadow. His erection was doing his thinking for him as the thought crossed his mind that it would be nice to watch her. His upper brain overruled the desire to make that comment.

"That sounds real good," replied Ginger thinking that a massage would feel even better.

Shadow went about the business of preparing the bathroom for a shower. He had to make sure that her robe was hung up in the right spot, fresh towels were in place, and all of soaps, shampoos, and body washes were set out. When all was done, he went back to the living room.

"The bathroom is ready," said Shadow.

"Thanks," replied Ginger while she stood and held out a hand. She noticed the slight trembling of his hand when he grasped her hand, but didn't think anything of it.

Shadow led her to the bathroom and then returned to the living room to return the furniture back in its place. He thought about removing the tape from the hardwood floor, but realized that she would probably want to exercise every day. It would be best to leave the markers on the floor. She wouldn't see them.

-------

The knock on the door took Ginger and Shadow by surprise. Standing, Shadow said, "I'll get it."

Upon opening the door a crack and looking though the narrow space so that the person outside would not be able to see him, Shadow was surprised to see Harry standing there. He opened the door the rest of the way and moved so that the disfigured side of his face was not visible.

Harry said, "Hello, hello, hello. I see that beauty and the beast are still living together."

The comment took Shadow completely by surprise and he found himself laughing before he had a chance to react negatively to the joke. Stepping back, he said, "Come in Harry. I'm sure that Ginger will want to talk to you."

"Don't mind if I do," replied Harry as he stepped into the house and handed a sack to Shadow.

"What's this?"

"Oh, just some things that I thought you might need," replied Harry with a smile as he moved into the living room.

Ginger had heard Harry's voice and called out, "Harry! How are you doing?"

"I'm doing wonderful. Life, when you take the time to experience it, is really a grand thing indeed," answered Harry with his typical upbeat tenor to his voice.

Shadow stepped into the kitchen to leave Harry and Ginger alone. It was obvious to him that Harry had some news to deliver to Ginger. Rather than inflict his ugliness on Harry, he made a pot of coffee. Once it was done, he slipped into the living room and set a mug of coffee on the table next to Harry. With his normal care, he directed Ginger's hand to her mug. Ginger just smiled in his direction in recognition of his care.

Harry said, "Shadow. I've got to take her to the doctor's office. Do you want to go?"

As he slipped back into the kitchen, Shadow answered, "No. I hate doctors."

Harry laughed and said, "I'll take her there and bring her back. You stay here."

Shadow watched from the window as Harry led Ginger to roach coach. Harry was taking excellent care of Ginger. He frowned as he thought about what might happen when they returned. He wondered if her vision was returning. Once the vehicle disappeared from view, he straightened up the mess left in the house. He stocked the shelves with the supplies that Harry had brought with him. After that task had been completed, he packed his gear in case he had to leave.

It was several hours later when the roach coach returned. After standing at the window for more than an hour, Shadow watched as Harry helped Ginger step out of the truck. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he saw that she still had bandages over her eyes. He set his gear down in a corner of the room.

Harry led Ginger into the house. Shadow, standing in the darkened room, asked, "So how did it go?"

Ginger answered, "It went well. I still can't see, but the doctor said that my eyes were getting better."

"I'm glad to hear that your eyes are getting better," answered Shadow. He wondered how much longer he would be able to stay here.

Harry transferred care of Ginger to Shadow before pausing to look around the room. His eyes lighted upon the small collection of personal gear stashed in the corner of the room. He frowned and looked over at Shadow. The disfigured man wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead of commenting on the gear, Harry asked, "Why is it dark in here?"

Ginger asked, "Is it dark in here?"

"We don't need to run up her electricity bill. She can't see and I don't need the lights," answered Shadow from a spot across the room from Harry.

Shaking his head, Harry stared at the man standing in a dark corner of the room. His features were hidden from view. Smiling, he replied, "So you say."

"Yes. I say."

"She's got a fusion battery powering this house. That means she doesn't have an electricity bill."

"Oh," replied Shadow feeling as if he had made a fool out of himself.

Ginger had listened to the discussion in confusion. She didn't understand all of the conflict over turning on the lights in the house. If she didn't need them and Shadow didn't want them, then why bother? She asked, "What's the matter?"

Harry answered, "Shadow is standing in the dark so that I can't see his face. He doesn't want me to see how ugly he is."

"He's not ugly. He's the nicest guy I've ever met," asserted Ginger. A month of living with Shadow had given her insight into his nature. He was caring and considerate. When she was frustrated, he held her and calmed her down. When she was frightened, he chased away her fears. When she cried, he wiped away the tears.

Shadow knew Ginger well enough to know what she was thinking. A month of living so close together had made it difficult to have secrets. The only secret was the one that she couldn't see, even though he did his best to make her understand. A tear ran down his cheek as he thought about what would happen when she could see again.

"I tell him that all the time, but he doesn't believe me," said Harry as he watched Shadow shift nervously in the corner.

"Don't fill her with romantic nonsense," shouted Shadow. He turned and left the room far more upset than he should have been.

Shadow frowned as he stared at the lawnmower. Harry had told Ginger that the lawn needed to be mowed and she had asked him to do it. Of course she had asked him to do it, she couldn't see to do it herself. Looking out in the front yard, he could see that there was no place for him to hide. The neighbors would see him out there. They would see that Ginger was living with a horribly disfigured monster. He swore as he pulled the rope to start the lawnmower.

Mowing the lawn had gone well until he had almost finished the front yard. A boy that lived next door to Ginger came out and stared at Shadow, seeing the horrible purple splotch across his face and the hideous growths. Scared, he ran back into the house to tell his mother about the ugly man. Shadow had watched the boy with a frown on his face that further distorted his features. His expression had made him appear evil and threatening.

By the time Shadow finished mowing the front yard, a patrol car pulled up to the front of the house. Disgusted, Shadow shoved the mower into the garage where the engine died and turned to wait for the police to question him. Being ugly wasn't considered a crime, but it depended upon how ugly you were. Spitting on the ground, he knew that he was ugly enough that it was a crime. He watched the other cop go up to the front door.

The officer approached Shadow with his hand upon the handle of his gun. He frowned when Shadow spit on the ground. Stopping a few feet away, he looked over the man's face. It was hard to look at him. Gruffly, he asked, "What's going on here?"

"I was mowing the lawn, officer," answered Shadow, moving so that his face wasn't visible to the policeman.

The movement disturbed the officer. He wondered if the ugly man were hiding something or planning to do something. With a sharp bark, he commanded, "Turn and face me."

Shadow slowly turned to face the officer. He glared at the policemen with his face twisted in anger, but knew enough not to make any sudden moves. He grunted, "If you really want to look at me, then that's your problem. God knows I wouldn't if I were in your place."

"What's your name?"

"Shadow," answered the ugly man knowing that it wasn't an answer the policeman would accept. It wasn't easy to explain that he had given up his name at the same time he had left home.

"Your real name," demanded the policeman.

"Shadow."

"Let's see your identification."

Shifting uncomfortably, Shadow answered, "I don't have any."

The cop reached back for his handcuffs, deciding that it would be better to straighten this mess out at the station. His partner arrived at that time and said, "The woman inside said that he is watching over her."

The cop asked, "Watching her? Have we got a stalker here?"

"No. He's watching over her. She was blinded in an accident. He's taking care of her until she gets her eyesight back," clarified the partner.

The first cop said, "He doesn't have identification and won't give me his name."

"Shit," exclaimed the other officer. He didn't like what was happening. They didn't cover situations like this at the police academy. What did you do when an ugly man with no id was taking care of an attractive blind woman?

Shadow held his arms out to his side and turned so that his back was to the cops. Knowing what was going to happen no matter what explanation he gave, he said, "I guess you're going to take me in."

The first cop had the handcuffs on his wrists within half a second. He turned Shadow around to face them and said, "It's good that you chose to come in without resisting."

Shaking his head, Shadow asked, "Could you call Harry and let him know that someone needs to take care of Ginger?"

"Harry?" asked the partner wondering who this Harry person might be.

"Yeah, Happy Harry."

"Happy Harry?" asked the cop wondering if he had understood correctly.

"Yes, Happy Harry the Druid. I'm sure that you know how to get in touch with him," answered Shadow staring down at the ground.

"Happy Harry is mixed up in this?" asked the partner in surprise.

"Yeah. I told him he was crazy to have me watch over her," grumbled Shadow. He wasn't looking forward to going to jail. The few times that he had been placed in a cell, his cellmates had not treated him well at all.

The first cop turned Shadow around and removed the handcuffs. He knew that when a Druid was involved in something that it was best to lend support to the effort. Going against a Druid was the easiest way to destroy a career. Gruffly he said, "Stay here and take care of the woman. And for God's sake, get some id."

Shadow stood in place rubbing his wrists in shock at the actions of the policeman. Confused, he stuttered, "Huh?"

"You're one of Harry's projects. We won't interfere."

Understanding what the cop meant, Shadow replied, "I'm not. She is."

The cop chuckled as he turned to return to the squad car. His partner shook his head and said, "Right. Take care of her, she's a beautiful woman."

As the partner walked away, Shadow swore the man had muttered something about a Druid reading Beauty and the Beast one time too many. Frowning, he stared at the police car wondering what had happened. He had fully expected to be hauled away to jail.

Unable to make sense of the events, he grabbed the lawnmower and started it so that he could mow the backyard. It felt good to push the mower through the tall grass. The simple action helped ease the tension that he hadn't known had crept into his body. The activity, easy to perform, allowed his mind to worry over his situation.

Putting away the lawnmower, he looked at the garage taking stock of the mess. Maybe he'd clean the garage before he left. He smiled to himself as he thought about how much Ginger would appreciate that. His thoughts immediately turned melancholy as he reminded himself that he wouldn't be here to see it. As he closed the door, he swore, "Damn, I'm starting to care about her."

He entered the house and noticed Ginger sitting in her chair looking pensive. The tension in her shoulders spoke volumes. Sitting down on the sofa, he asked, "What's the matter?"

"Why were the police here?" she asked. Her fears of being left alone with a stranger had reasserted themselves as a result of the police visit. From the way that the cop had acted, it seemed that Shadow was some sort of scary figure. She didn't see it, but then she couldn't see anything at the time.

"They were afraid that I was here to harm you. One of the neighbors saw me mowing the lawn and got concerned about you," answered Shadow watching her for her reaction.

"Why would they be concerned?"

With more anger in his voice than he had intended, he answered, "Because I look like a monster."

The puzzled expression on her face was almost humorous. If his appearance hadn't been at the heart of her confusion, he would have laughed. As it was, it felt as though a knife had been thrust into his stomach. He stood and said, "I'm all sweaty and smelly from mowing the lawn. Let me shower and change clothes, then I'll fix us something to eat."

She nodded and hugged her knees tight to her chest. He glanced down at her wishing he could help keep her safe in this world. That wasn't possible. He sighed and headed to the bathroom. Her vulnerability excited him and he knew he'd spend half of the shower jacking off. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

Shadow had watched Ginger go through her workout. Seated in a corner of the room, he had watched her bump and grind her way through her dance routine. His cock was so hard from watching her that he was surprised that it hadn't turned brittle and broken from the unnatural stresses put upon it by his pants. It seemed to him that she had put even more effort into her routine today. He couldn't help but think about how sexy she had been. When she had done the split and run her hand over her cunt, she had smiled in his direction as if she could see the reaction that she had upon him. He had to walk bent over to make room for his cock when he led her to the shower.

As always, he had straightened the furniture in the living room before returning to the bathroom door where he would wait for her to finish so that he could lead her to a chair. When she opened the door, her robe had been twisted so that most of her breast was visible. With trembling hands, he straightened her robe before leading her to the chair. He tried to make a little joke about her needing to look her best, but his mouth didn't work. All that came out was gibberish. That didn't help him deal with the situation. His cock was hard and hurt. He thanked the Gods and Goddesses that Ginger was blind and couldn't see the effect she had on him.

Ginger settled into the chair and said, "Thanks, Shadow. You take such excellent care of me that I don't know how to thank you."

"No thanks are needed."

She shifted to sit cross-legged on the chair. Her robe opened giving him a clear view of her panties. Shadow nearly gasped at the sight, but moved to where he wouldn't be tempted to look. Not for the first time, Shadow cursed Harry for putting him in this situation. There was only one result, he would be hurt and have nightmares about this for the rest of his life.

Ginger said, "I'm sure that you can use a shower."

In the shower, Shadow had to jerk off to relieve the pressure that had built in his cock. Watching topless Chinese girls walking around was nothing to the pure erotic nature of the dance that he had just watched and the simple sexuality of the woman at ease. Under the frantic movements of his soap-covered hand, he spilled his seed into the bathtub. Even as his seed struck the floor, he sank to his knees in tears at the frustration of being so close and yet so far from the one thing that he desired most in the world. Was what he wanted excessive? He didn't think so; all he wanted was what all men wanted, acceptance from a woman.

As the shower rained water upon his crumpled form, he cried more than he had ever cried in his life. The pokes and prods of quack doctors didn't hurt as much as watching that sexy young woman perform her dance routine. The hatred shown to him by his siblings and father had been nothing to watching her dance. His cock, irritated at the tip, burned from the soap that he used as a lubricant while masturbating. The slight pain would help him keep his mind off her.

Dressing in a clean pair of pants and shirt, he went out to make dinner. He did his best to avoid looking at Ginger as he put the ingredients together to make stew. From the living room, Ginger called out, "Are you making stew again?"

Her question stung him. The only meal that he knew how to make was stew and he had made it every night. Over the past week, she had started to complain about the limited menu at Casa Ginger. He wanted to do something else, but he didn't know any other dish. He called back, "Yes."

There was silence from the living room and then she called back, "Tonight, you will watch a cooking show."

Despite his ignorance, he didn't ask what a cooking show was. He figured that he would learn soon enough. He grumbled, "Harry should have known better than to put her in my care. There are thousands of people that would do a better job."

Ginger stirred the stew with disinterest. Meals had become monotonous with scrambled eggs for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and stew for dinner. She was eating the same thing every day and she was tired of it. There had been makings for spaghetti, but he had used the noodles in the stew. She knew that Shadow tried, but he didn't know any better. He interrupted her thoughts, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she replied. She shifted and the robe opened giving a view of her breasts. It wasn't intentional; it was just that she wasn't used to having to pay that kind of attention to her robe. Having gotten used to having Shadow around the house, she wasn't taking the same level of diligence in making sure that she was always covered.

Shadow glanced over and caught sight of her breast. He dropped his spoon. The clatter as it hit the edge of his bowl broke the silence of the room. Ginger asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just dropped my spoon," replied Shadow avoiding the real cause of his sudden clumsiness. He didn't want to sound like a pervert that was peeking at her breasts all of the time. Even as he thought that, his eyes flicked over at her breast. He shuddered at the perfection of her breast.

"You seem to be getting a little more clumsy lately. Is anything the matter?"

He swallowed heavily and, in a nervous tone of voice, replied "No, nothing is the matter."

After dinner, they retired to the living room where he watched cooking shows for the next four hours. The shows had been a great revelation to him and he had watched them fascinated by the kinds of dishes that the cooks had prepared. His attention was so focused that he failed to notice when Ginger had made a solo trip to the bathroom.

When the last show was finished, he turned to Ginger and asked, "Where I can find these recipes?"

"On the internet."

"The what?"

"The internet," she replied as she pointed to the computer.

That evening, Shadow learned about the internet and the information age. The first few hours were spent looking up recipes. Later his investigations turned to matters of a more personal and meaningful nature. He was still browsing the internet when Ginger woke the next morning.



-------

Chapter 4

As time passed, Shadow and Ginger had become comfortable with each other. Shadow told Ginger about growing up in a household under the watchful eye of an over protective mother. Ginger talked about how she had left home and found that the only way to make enough money to live on was by dancing. Shadow had never thought about how women entered the adult entertainment industry.

The days had settled into a nice rhythm. Breakfast, morning workout, lunch, afternoon errands, diner, and then quiet evenings together marked the passage of the day. The different afternoon errands marked the week as he rotated between laundry, vacuuming, mowing the lawn, dusting, shopping, and gardening. Sundays he was free in the afternoon.

He learned how to cook dishes other than stew, but they both admitted that he didn't have what it took to be a chef. However, with time his cooking had improved and neither of them died of food poisoning. There were a few dishes that they couldn't finish and they became the subjects of easy jokes.

The longer that Shadow lived with Ginger, the less concerned she became about covering herself when he was around. It seemed like every day that he caught glimpses of her breasts or panties. Everyday after her shower, he used the excuse of cleaning the bathroom to spend thirty minutes in the bathroom to relieve his erection that watching her workout produced. Jacking off when he took his shower in the evening helped keep him from doing anything that would upset her.

Ginger seemed oblivious to the tensions that raged through Shadow. She was too busy dealing with tensions of her own. At night, she would lie in bed rubbing her clit getting rid of some the tension that raged through her. As far as she was concerned, Shadow was a fantasy come true. She wondered how many women could possibly find a man that would take such good care of her.

As time went by, the sexual tension in the air became thick enough to cut with a knife. Their conversations became longer and more intimate. The silences became less threatening. Neither one was willing to give into their individual urge. Shadow because he was completely clueless about how Ginger felt about him. Ginger was unwilling because she was unable to see the effect that she was having on Shadow.

Shadow waited as Ginger went about the business of getting ready for her appointment. He had set out a nice outfit for her to wear to the doctor's office and she was in her room behind closed doors getting dressed. Shadow's imagination worked overtime as he imagined what she looked like while she prepared. Her gorgeous legs, full breasts, and womanly shape were firmly etched into his mind. He sighed, but kept his thoughts to himself. There was no sense letting her know that he was a pervert at this late stage.

When she opened the bedroom door, he raced over to it and took her hand. As always, he said, "Let me lead you to your chair."

"I'd prefer to sit on the sofa with you today," replied Ginger. There was a nervous tremor to her voice that let him know how worried she was about the appointment.

"Okay, Ginger," replied the ugly man. Both of them knew that at this point, it was unnecessary for him to lead her around the room. She could navigate the room without any problem, but they went through the motion anyway. He led her over to the sofa and waited until she sat down.

She patted the seat beside him and begged, "Sit here and hold me."

Once Shadow sat down beside her, she turned and settled against his chest. Not knowing what else to do with his hands, he put his arms around her. Unconsciously, he pulled her tight against his chest as though afraid of losing her forever. In the tone of voice that one would use to calm down a skittish horse, he said, "Everything will be alright."

She settled against his chest feeling protected. For the first time in her life, she felt safe and that it had come in the form of being held by a man surprised her. The fact was that she had never expected to fall in love with a man. Her mother and stepfather had killed all desire to find someone to love. Being beaten by her mother for not sexually satisfying her stepfather made it virtually impossible to hand her heart over to anyone.

After living with Shadow for almost three months, she had come to love him. Loving him had crept up on her and she couldn't quite pinpoint when it had happened. She knew the stages that her feelings for him had passed. At first, she was terrified of living with a stranger while blind. After a while, she found herself trusting him to take care of the problems associated with being blind. As time went by, she realized that he hadn't made any unwanted advances upon her. That's when she realized that she could trust him to take care of the real her - the person inside the body. It was about that time when she realized she loved him.

She sighed and said, "I'm so worried about the doctor's appointment. What if I can't see ever again?"

The question tore Shadow apart. He had come to have very strong feelings for Ginger and feared what would happen when she had her sight back. As strong as his fears were, there was no way that he would ever wish that she would remain blind. He hugged her and answered, "I'll take care of you."

"You would, wouldn't you?"

As her head rested against his chest, the smell of her scented soap tickled his nostrils. He inhaled enjoying the scent and tried to etch it into his memory, so that he would be able to recall it even after years had passed. Tears ran down his face as he answered, "For as long as you needed me."

She cleared her throat and asked, "I know that you must have been tempted, but why didn't you ever try anything with me?"

"It wouldn't have been right to have such beauty marred by my ugliness," answered Shadow. He felt like his chest was about to explode at admitting his feelings for her. He felt her body tense as he gave his answer. From the expression on her face, he knew what she was going to say.

"I love..." she started, but was cut off when he put a finger against her mouth.

"Don't say it," he interrupted.

"Why?"

"You haven't seen me yet. You don't know what kind of horrible monster I am," he answered.

It hurt her to hear him talk about his appearance in that manner. He was a good man and deserved happiness. She replied, "Promise me that you'll be here when I get back."

That was the one promise that Shadow wouldn't make. He was spared from answering when there was a knock on the door. He sighed in relief and said, "That'll be Harry."

She shifted so that Shadow could get up and answer the door. He rose and paused to look down upon her. Her face was positioned as though she were looking at him. Her vulnerability touched him, but he didn't know what to do. An additional knock forced him to turn his attention to the door. He answered the door and said, "Come on in, Harry."

Harry looked at Shadow taking in the streaks left on his cheeks by tears. Rather than comment, he looked over at Ginger. She looked just as upset as Shadow. Raising an eyebrow, he looked from one to the other. In a cheerful voice, he said, "Today is the day."

Shadow, forcing as much cheerfulness into his voice as possible, said, "Yes. She gets her sight back today."

Reaching down, Harry took Ginger's hand and said, "We had better get going."

With a weak nervous smile, Ginger nodded her head. As Harry led her to the door, she paused and, in more of a question that a statement, said, "I'll see you when I get back."

"Sure," answered Shadow after an uncomfortable pause. He glided over to her and hugged her. As he pulled back, he said, "I love you, Ginger."

Shadow put a hand on the Druid's arm. Harry turned and looked at Shadow in surprise. In a serious voice, Shadow said, "Take care of her."

"Of course," answered the Druid. He smiled felling extraordinarily pleased that his plan for the two of them to bond over the months together had worked. It was with a light step that he led Ginger to the roach coach.

Shadow watched from the window as the roach coach pulled up to the curb. Holding his breath, he waited to see if Ginger had her sight back. He was so nervous that he was close to pissing himself, but his hands didn't drop the pack with his clothes in it. He clutched it even tighter when the door of the vehicle opened.

Ginger stepped out of the truck and, after taking a few steps to the middle of the yard, turned to wait for Harry. As she waited, she raised her arms and spun in place with her head thrown back as she watched the sky turn overhear. It was a genuine display of joy at having her sight back. She smiled and said something to the Druid, but Shadow couldn't hear over the pounding in his ears. He didn't need to hear to know that she had gotten her sight back. Feeling like the lowest form of life on earth, he fled out the back door and disappeared into the alleyway.

Harry and Ginger stepped into the house talking about how wonderful it was to see the world once again. She looked around to find Shadow, but there was no sign that he was there. She ran from room to room seeking him, but he wasn't there. Her face fell as she realized that he had left. Turning to Harry, she held out her arms as she broke down and cried. Harry stepped up to her and gathered her into his arms. He rocked her and rubbed her back while singing a soft song to ease the hurt. They had talked about the likelihood of him running off, but she had denied that it was a possibility.

Shadow waited until dark before climbing out of a manhole at the end of an alley. A liquor store was less than a hundred yards away and the street was nearly deserted. All that he wanted was to reach the liquor store, purchase a bottle of the strongest rot gut whiskey that he could afford, and drink himself into oblivion. He had been doing that a lot lately, driven by his self-loathing. He hated himself for having run out on Ginger. He knew that it had hurt her, but couldn't believe that it was anything compared to how much it had hurt him to leave. Just thinking about it brought tears to his eyes.

Someone stepped out of one of the stores and headed in his direction. He pulled back into the alley to wait for the lone pedestrian to pass. He waited five minutes but no one passed by. Giving up, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and promptly doubled over when he was hit in the stomach. As his breath left his lungs, he collapsed to his knees. From the ground, he stared up at the face of the man that had hit him.

"What?" asked Shadow as he struggled to recover his breath. The shock at getting ambushed prevented him from saying more. Harry stood in front of Shadow, leaning on his shepherd's staff while watching him struggle.

Happy Harry was anything but happy at the moment. He glowered at the prostrate figure at his feet and answered, "You made her cry on what should have been a very happy day for her."

Bitter at the hand dealt him by fate, Shadow answered, "Better that she cry than realize what she had shared her house with all of this time."

The sound of the slap echoed through the empty street. Harry shouted, "You hurt her!"

Shadow stared at the Druid. The happy-go-lucky little man was gone, replaced by a force of nature that wouldn't be denied. Feeling the emptiness of his words, he shouted back, "I had to."

Grabbing the ugly man by the back of his shirt, Harry said, "It's time for the ugly man to disappear."

"Huh?"

At a gesture from Harry, three men stepped out of a doorway and grabbed Shadow. He struggled, but accomplished nothing. They manhandled him to the roach coach and threw him in the back. Climbing in, they held him down as Harry sat in the driver's seat. Turning to look at his passengers over his shoulder, Harry shouted, "Hold on folks. This thing rocks hard enough as it rolls down the road to deserve admission into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."

Terrified at what was going to happen to him, Shadow struggled. His efforts were ineffectual as the three powerful men held him down without difficulty. He recognized them from the streets and knew that Harry had helped them in the past. They owed Harry and would do anything to help him. Desperate, he said, "He's going to kill me."

The biggest man grunted and replied, "He said it was time for the ugly man to disappear. If Harry says you have to disappear, then I'll help him make you disappear. I might not like it, but I'll do it. Now shut up."

A hood was put over his head blocking out the view. The rest of the trip was made in darkness. Shadow lay, curled into a ball, on the floor of the roach coach. Shaking uncontrollably, he cried like a baby as he thought about what he had done to deserve this treatment. His tears were driven by the knowledge that he had hurt a beautiful woman who he loved.

An hour after being thrown into the roach coach, hands drug him out of the back of the vehicle and set him on his feet. He was roughly led away. With the hood over his head, there was no way for him to know where he was being taken. The destination didn't matter to him nor was he worried about what he would find when he reached it. He felt like he deserved whatever was going to happen to him.

Shadow was pushed roughly to his knees and the hood removed from his head. Looking up, he found that he was staring at another green robed Druid. The man stared down at him and then looked up. The Druid asked, "What's going on Harry?"

"This man has been going around harming people because he feels ugly," answered Harry. He glared down at Shadow as he said, "That's got to stop. The ugly man has to go."

The other Druid knelt down and grabbed Shadow by the face. Turning the man's head from side to side, he nodded and said, "No problem."

"How long will it take?"

"A couple of weeks," answered the man.

A couple of weeks? Shadow reeled as he heard the answer. He wondered what kind of death could take a couple of weeks. As his imagination kicked up into overdrive, he fainted.

The man standing at the door of the strip club was the biggest man that Wally Benthusen had ever seen. The scowl on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture rather than just a passing comment about the man standing in front of him. Wally attempted to step around the man, but was stopped when a huge paw landed on his shoulder. The man grunted, "Private party today. Can't go in there without an invitation."

Wally licked his lips nervously and asked, "Is Ginger here tonight?"

"Have you got an invite?"

"No," replied Wally, "but I know Ginger. I just want to talk to her."

The big man was about to throw Wally to the street when he paused to examine the man. After taking in Wally's features, the bouncer looked thoughtful for a moment and then frowned. It was incredible to Wally that the bouncer's face could get even meaner looking. The bouncer asked, "Are you Shadow?"

"Yes," answered Wally admitting to the name that he had been known by for more than a decade. He hung his head in shame.

"I outta beat the shit out of you, you fucking son of a bitch," snarled the big man. He raised a fist getting ready to hit Wally when a movement from near the street captured his attention. When he noticed who was standing there, the bouncer brought his arm down. He grunted, "You can go in, but don't cause a scene."

Wally went into the club. When the man was gone, Harry walked over to the bouncer and said, "Hello Dargo."

"Hi, Harry. What's up with the shit head that hurt Ginger?" asked the bouncer as he turned to look inside the club.

"Don't worry about it, Dargo."

"So why are you here, if it ain't to take care of that asshole?"

Harry smiled and answered, "I'm here to cheer up the ladies."

Dargo chuckled at the answer knowing that Harry's visits were always fun for the ladies. It amazed him that women that wouldn't give the time of day to a man without money being involved, would fall all over themselves to play with Harry for free. He watched as Harry entered the club holding up his robe in front of him while performing a rather lame imitation of the 'Can-Can.' Shaking his head, he said, "Damn that man knows how to have fun."

Inside the club, Wally picked a chair in the back of the room. He was far enough away from the action that he could watch what was going on. He had never been inside such a place and had no clue as to what he was supposed to do. A number of men were sitting around a stage watching a red head dancing. She was wearing nothing except for a g-string. They were making comments and throwing dollar bills on the stage. Wally watched them, confused at the exaggerated excitement generated in the men from watching the rather plain woman gyrate on the stage.

The guys seated around the runway were having a great time. It didn't take him long to figure out that it was a bachelor party for one of the men. The prospective groom was led onto the stage to sit on a chair. A brunette came out and gave him a lap dance. As she lost clothes, her activities with the groom became ever more explicit. When she was down to her g-string, she started rubbing herself on the groom's leg and thrusting her breasts into his face. His friends were yelling and shouting their encouragement. More money flew to the front of the room.

After the dance, the groom was led to his chair where he was greeted like a hero. While that was going on, a waitress came over to Wally and asked, "What's the matter? Aren't you going to join your friends?"

Wally looked over at the woman. She was wearing lingerie that covered the essential parts, but left little to the imagination. He answered, "I'm not with them. I'm here to see Ginger."

The waitress frowned at him, studied his face for a moment, and then asked, "Are you Shadow?"

The question made him wonder what they had heard about him. He answered, "Yes."

The waitress slapped him and then stalked off with an angry stride. His face stinging, he watched her leave in shock. He rubbed his face, trying to ease the sting from where her hand had connected. He wondered how many more slaps he would get before he had a chance to talk to Ginger.

A song came on and a new dancer stepped out onto the stage. His heart started to beat faster when he recognized Ginger, but he sat back as he stared at the stranger that moved out onto the stage. She moved with grace, but there wasn't any spirit driving her. Having seen her dance, he knew that it was a pale imitation of what she was capable. The men around the runway looked as bored as she did. The sight of her moving mechanically through her routine hurt Shadow. He hung his head in shame, knowing that he had hurt her and killed the spirit that had lived within her.

The dance ended and a very listless Ginger walked off the stage. The disk jockey attempted to bring the energy of the room back to the level it had been at before Ginger had danced. His efforts failed until he announced that the dancers were coming out into the room. A couple of the dancers entered the room and started to mix with the men. The party resumed, with the men becoming even louder than before.

Wally put his head in his hands and started to weep. The pain, frustration, and anger from years of self hate surged forward in a desperate attempt to escape through his tears. His shoulders shook as he lost control. He was only dimly aware of a voice asking, "Hey, why are you crying?"

Deciding it was time to purge his guilt, he answered, "I hurt her. I didn't mean to hurt her, but I hurt her real bad. All because I didn't want her to see how ugly I was. God, she must hate me."

"Shadow?" The question came in the middle of a silence that had descended on the room.

He looked up to find that the voice belonged to Ginger. He stared at her, his chest tightening to the point where he couldn't breath. It was only with the greatest effort that he answered, "Yes."

Her hand trembled as she leaned forward and looked at him. Half of his face was a little darker than the other half, but he wasn't nearly as ugly as he had told her. When her anger at having been abandoned took control, she slapped him as she shouted, "You bastard. Did you honestly think that you were that ugly?"

Wally didn't say a word, but stared at the table knowing that he deserved every mean thing that she would say. He didn't even know or care what was happening when huge hands lifted him out of his seat. A growl by his ear said, "I told you I didn't want any trouble."

Fully meaning his words, Wally answered, "Kill me and put me out of my misery."

Seeing the anger on the face of the bouncer, Ginger shouted, "Dargo, set him down. He didn't do anything."

The bouncer set Wally down on his chair with a growl. He snarled as he said, "I don't want any more trouble out of you."

With her arms tightly crossed on her chest, Ginger waited until Dargo had left. Sitting back, she said, "You aren't that ugly."

His face colored as he heard 'that ugly.' He knew that she hadn't seen him at his worst. He explained, "Not any more. Harry found me a couple days after you got your vision back. He took me to another Druid, a doctor, who operated on my face. Over the course of a month, he performed four operations on my face to get rid of the veins that caused the disfiguration and discoloration of my face. My face just healed and I came to apologize to you for running out."

Ginger stared at him wondering what he had looked like before the operations. Four operations suggested that it had been pretty bad. She didn't say a word, but stared at him.

"I had to go."

"So as soon as Harry picked me up, you left?" asked Ginger. It had hurt her that he hadn't even waited around to see that she was okay.

"No. I waited until you returned. When you got out of the truck and spun around on the front yard, I knew that you could see. I ran out the back door rather than risk letting you see me," answered Wally. He looked down at the table feeling like a worm.

"So you didn't abandon me?"

"I ran like a coward," answered Wally.

Ginger relaxed as she realized that he hadn't run out without knowing that she hadn't required his help anymore. It still hurt that he didn't trust her to accept his appearance, but he had always been honest that he didn't want her to see his face. She reached across the table and put a hand on his hand. She said, "Yes, you did."

Wally stared at her hand, unable to believe that she had reached out to touch him. They sat there for ten minutes without talking. Wally didn't know what to say to her. He fingered the photograph of the before picture that rested in his pocket. The last thing that he wanted to do was to show it to her. She sat there trying to decide what to do with him. Finally, she asked, "Do you work?"

"No, I don't," replied Wally. He didn't even have any plans for his future. After years of being homeless, making plans for a career, education, or any other kind of commitment was pretty foreign to him. He shrugged, "I haven't gotten around to thinking about that yet. I guess I'll do something."

After a minute of thought, Ginger stood up so that he was able to see her clearly for the first time. She was wearing a bra and panties with a transparent robe that left very little to the imagination. The sight took his breath away. He asked, "What now?"

"I get dressed and we go home," answered Ginger with a smile.

He watched her walk away, appreciating the sway of her ass. She was a beautiful woman and he had come so close to losing her. On second thought, he realized that he hadn't come close to losing her - he had come close to never having her.

A commotion from the other side of the lounge caught his attention. Looking over, he spotted Harry in a chair with two of the women that worked there. Harry was touching the women in places that should have gotten him thrown out of the club, but the women were having a good time and would never complain. He watched Harry play connect-the-freckles on the redhead's body. She was making noises that he was supposed to be playing the game using his tongue instead of his finger. The other women was running a hand under his robe and laughing at some joke. It sounded to Wally as if she was curious about what Druids wore under their robes.

Wally wondered why Harry was there. It was unlikely that it was a coincidence that Harry had chosen to come to this club and at this time. As far as he could tell, it had nothing to do with him since Harry was having lots of fun with the women. Another women came up and slipped off her bra so that she could frame Harry's head between her rather substantial breasts. The sound of laughter echoed around the room. Wally shook his head wondering how Harry managed to charm so many women.

Harry caught his eye and winked in his direction. Harry's attention was distracted when the woman with her hand under his robe discovered what he wore under it. With a loud yell, the old man shouted, "The Gods and Goddesses love randy women!"

When Harry put his hands on the breasts of the woman whose hands had disappeared under the robe, he added, "And you, my dear, are doubly blessed!"

Wally smiled as he watched the antics at the other table. It was a few minutes before Ginger stepped out of the back wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt. She looked more like the girl next door than an exotic dancer. He liked her better in jeans and T-shirt. As they left, he heard Harry shout out, "Remember that it's supposed to be fun!"

At the house, Ginger went over to the entertainment center and turned to look over at Wally with a smile. He fidgeted while wondering what she was thinking, but didn't ask. After looking through a stack of CDs, she selected one and put it in the CD player. As the music filled the room, she said, "Come here and kiss me."

Wally went over to her and hugged her. Bending down, he did his best to kiss her. Puckering his lips tightly together, he pressed them against hers. Ginger was startled by the bizarre kiss. She hadn't had a kiss like that since she was six years old and the boy next door had kissed her. Wondering why he had kissed her like that, she asked, "What's the matter?"

Embarrassed, he answered, "I've never done this before."

The exotic dancer stared at him in shock. Unsure that she understood what he meant, she asked, "Are you telling me you're a virgin?"

Wally turned bright red in embarrassment as he answered, "I'm afraid so. I've never even kissed a woman."

"Oh, wow," she replied as the full implications of what he was saying became clear to her. As a grin came over her face, she said, "I'll just have to teach you how to do it right."

For the next four hours, Ginger taught Wally how a man makes love to a woman. Wally paid close attention to her instructions and practiced every lesson repeatedly until he got it right. Ginger was in heaven. She returned the favor and showed him how a woman made love to a man. Wally was in heaven. Together, they discovered that Harry was right, it was supposed to be fun. They kept that in mind for the rest of their lives.


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The End
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Posted:  2005-01-31
Last Modified: 2005-02-03 / 10:45:14 am
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