Married by Mistake Chapter 51. Watching the Bay

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Chapter 51. Watching the Bay

*Homework!*

*Ugh!* She had cottonmouth from the awkward sleep position on her tablet. In a moment she laughed when she sat up. She left a face print on the smooth, high gloss finish of the computer’s screen. *So much homework! Not enough coffee!*

Every night. Kaylee had not taken time to smoke even one bowl in two days. She sketched every day and, after the first few days, it brought her no joy. A still-life of the bay from her balcony, then she went to the beach and painted there.

One late afternoon the memory of Glenn returned in a blast of fury, in a heated moment of inspiration she threw sand on the paint, before it dried, unable to rework the image, she displayed it in class.

She expected Doctor Fayse to reject the sand-textured painting out of hand, but he instead gave her extra points for the painted colors and strokes of the brush and sand effect, giving the feeling of emotion of anger and rage that she had created.

Rage?

Yeah. Oh yeah, she was angry. She kicked Tom out of her life in favor of Glenn.

And then Glenn screwed the pooch on that subject. Samantha, too for that matter, and his life.

That he could not see his way to keep his DNA in check, really did not hurt.

*It’s that he is, rather was, supposed to be my best friend, too. He should have talked to me, not just give a half-limp kiss and never say a word about a pregnant wife.*

*Yeah, he screwed his life up, all right.* She kicked an innocent stick of wood on the ground hard enough that the little driftwood twig skipped across the parking lot. *But so did I.*

Tom was overdue in the bay and she was unable to keep away from his website. It was no help, just an information page, no “Contact Me” information, there was no way for her to email him.

Georgia closed his email that she had in her phone, after he dealt with that agent, it looked like he signed with another company and there was no direct contact with him through that web-site either.

Never in the news and the events on his web page were out of date and ended with Doctor Manga’s installation at Cambridge University in the UK.

Still, everyday she went to the beach with an occasional drive past the airport, but the closed football-field sized hanger doors looked as if they had not been used and there was a noticeable lack of activity around the building.

Another week dragged past and the wet season was coming, she would go home for Christmas soon and Tom’s plane still had not returned.

Early Saturday, Kaylee was in a deep sleep and the sun had not yet come up. She had spent her Friday night in deep study and memorized her half-dozen assignments and typed her class reports on each with an original point of view as required by the professors.

Seven hours a day in classes, another four-hours at home on her computer, another shift at the beer and ribs cook-house. She felt overwhelmed, as so many college students do.

She had nightmare dreams of the reports when her phone rang, saving her from being attacked by a anthropomorphized, giant report on an artist that she could not recognize. She was thankful for that save.

It was Melanie. She loved her sister more than anyone in the world at that instant.

‟Mmph. Hel-” Kaylee yawned and dropped her phone on her face. ‟Lo? Melanie ?”

‟Tiny! I found him!” Melanie was wide awake. ‟I know where Tom is!”

‟Whath timeish ish it?” Kaylee was almost incoherent. She had not slept well, then it had hit her in last night’s studies and she slept like the dead without any sleep aid or to cook hash-brownies to assist in her stress. “Tom? Who’s you talkin’ ’bout?”

‟It’s quarter of three. Why are you sleeping? You are always up at this time.”

‟Not th’ last four days… Mel, I was asleep, issa ya drunk?” Kaylee slurred her words as if she had was drunk herself. “Wha’ di’ you say about who? Wha’ Tom?”

‟No! Noooo…I have been on the hunt for Tom.” She sounded like she found a gold nugget after a long search. ‟You know I had Steven check some things for me?”

‟Sheven? Ahem..Steven? Th’ Stalker?” Kaylee interrupted. “Wonder” *yawn* “Ful. C’n I g’back sleep now?”

‟Not a stalker.” A pause as her sister contemplated the conversation. ‟Okay, well, maybe I am. But it’s for a good cause!”

Kaylee laughed while she balanced the phone on her head and pulled her arm under the blanket while her younger sister babbled news about a guy named Tom and his travels.

‟Did you hear me? He is in Australia.” Mel said to her sister in a sad tone of voice. ‟Aw. Kaylee, I think he has moved there.”

‟Moovmmph… Moved there?” Kaylee ‘s brain did not register the conversation still.

Then she blinked and stared into the dark.

She was wide awake with a sudden rush of thoughts.

“You mean TOM? My Tom?” She said loud enough and had to grab at the phone. ‟Tom has children’s books published there. Southern Oz.” 

‟Where?” Melanie did not catch what her older sister said.

‟Australia, he called it Oz a lot.” She did not want to wake up this much, but now she was awake and not happy. ‟Can I sleep? I need to sleep. I’m too awake, I don’t wanna be awake.”

‟Well, you need to stop by that hanger and go ask. Not just drive by.”

‟I won’t stalk him.” Kaylee said, she struggled to dive back into sleep and try hard to forget that screwed up chapter of her life.

‟You’re not a stalker if you’re worried about him.” Melanie said in conspiratorial tones. ”I was worried. You remember the look on his face when you and he were here?”

‟I remember you squeaked like a mouse and fell off of the sofa.” She grumbled and snuggled back under the blankets.

‟That never happened. He startled me.” Her sister was defensive. ‟But he did have a big smile. Tiny, you made a happy man.”

‟You just want me to hook up with him again.” She mumbled. “Melly, I’m going back…”

‟If you don’t, I will.” Melanie interrupted.

“…to sleep.” Kaylee finished.

‟If you keep on that subject, I’m going to hang up on you.” Kaylee twisted the phone around so the light from the screen didn’t bother her.

‟Okay, I’ll let you go.” Melanie said.

‟Good.”

‟You need to get some sleep, you are a bitch at night.” Younger sisters, sometimes, annoy and Melanie was making it her number-one trait as far as Tom was concerned.

‟Good night, Mel.” And she broke the connection, laughing herself to sleep.

*When she gets older, she will be the most famous busy-body in our family.* Was Kaylee ’s last thought before sleep reclaimed her.

The morning after the phone call. Kaylee walked around in the apartment, off in her emotional bubble. It took two-hours for her to figure out what was bothering her.

That phone call at zero-dark-thirty by her over caffeinated sister who was more insane about Tom than cats were about laser-pointers.

She made coffee in an old-school way of heated up water in a pot, then she poured the scalding liquid over Kona coffee grounds in a single-cup filter.

Not for the first time, she drank her coffee on the balcony and looked towards the picturesque bay.

And not for the first time, she saw only beautiful blue water and boats.

And not for the first time…

She wept.

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Married by Mistake Chapter 31. First Night Home

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Chapter 31. First Night Home

Kaylee woke up the next morning, with stiff and tired muscles. Her thighs burned so bad that it was painful just to move her legs. She threw one leg across the sleeping Tom, making him snuffle when she moved. It was sweet to her ears and she smiled at the sound.

She had all but wore him out, he was weak and out of shape from being in a hospital bed for the previous two weeks and not allowed to move his arm.

Inside he heart she laughed, Kaylee enjoyed being stronger than Tom. She had pushed him down and made him enjoy himself equal to the number scenes of drama in their lives.

Just one thing tickled her mind and she was not sure if it pleased her or not. He kept whispering her name in absent-minded ways, sometimes he used her married name “Kaylee Harte”, as if he enjoyed the flavor of it.

At least it wasn’t some other woman’s name, although warmth on how he said the words caused sparks inside of her.

Pleasure or sadness she could not make up her mind. But if anything, she was not going to stay with Tom and prove Georgia correct that she stayed with him because of his money and fame. If anything, now it was a motivation to her to depart and go back to her old life. No one would insinuate or call her such vile names.

But, for now, she was happy that Tom held her in his heart — at least by name.

Kaylee kissed his chest and he, well he didn’t snore- precisely. But she disturbed him and the snort/snore echoed in the small room. He inspired her, and her inspiration wanted to draw.

Her inspiration? The author of such a children’s series of adventure-picture books with a moral in each story about sharing, hero decisions that even a child could make.

To stand up against authority if danger exists. The right and wrong choices of the fictional leafy sea dragon made were an adventure to children of all ages and sold well to his target audiences.

Then his creative works became movies of steampunk. Kaylee felt that he had a romantic soul in him for that genre, something that would let his pain out and make him smile with his heart as much as his face.

Since she had known him, she had felt that his heart was little more than a bleeding scar from the wounds inflicted by life.

And she put some of bloody scar there.

She remembered she hurt him. He never admitted it. But she hurt his heart and his soul.

Quietly, as she listened to his heart beat, a tear slipped out of her left eye when Kaylee wished she had not signed and sent off the papers.

Even an accident that it was, as a husband Tom showed himself as a higher quality of husband than any she could have dreamed of.

And he helped her to annul the relationship on her request.

So why did she cry?

Slowly, carefully, she disentangled herself from Tom. He mumbled something that sounded like her name, then slipped back into the fuzzy, comfortable arms of sleep.

The cool air of the flying boat made the stiff muscles in her legs ache as she walked the full length of the plane, in his pirate jammy-pants that hung down to her mid-calf and a skull and crossed pistol t-shirt that hung to past her thighs. If someone was in the right position to look into the front wind-screen of the jet, they would have seen her moving through the big jet wearing his clothes.

Although Tom was sleeping well, Kaylee wanted to eat something and softly padded on her bare feet into the galley.

Opening the small refrigerator she felt the chilled air spill over her feet like a flood. This made her grin, she was going to warm them up on Tom when she crawled back in bed.

Her thighs ached in fatigue in the dawn-twilight of the day and instead of bending her legs, she bent over and looked for a carrot or an apple to get a bite of.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her back, with a swat on her (and sticking out, unprotected) backside.

Yipping and standing up suddenly, she hit her head on the handle of the overhead freezer.

‟TOM! You startled me.”

‟You think that was a surprise? You are lucky it was just my hand.” He grinned. ‟Besides, what you have is in my jammies and the skull and crossbones could to not be missed. I probably could bounce a coin off it from across the room.” Tom squeezed her around the waist in a firm hug.

‟Tom. Stop the fantasy, we are at breakfast.” She said, standing with a carton of milk.”

‟Okay, I guess I’ve already had dessert.”

‟You have had enough dessert for three men.” She laughed. ‟For now, I need some fuel for my engine.”

‟Come back to bed. We don’t have much time left.”

‟I’m going to eat, I can make you something. Some exotic art-college food perhaps?” Kaylee looked around. ‟Hm… red wine, chocolate, vanilla beans, vodka— why do you have vodka here? Coffee, pomegranates, how long have these been here? ‟

Kaylee picked one of the red fruits out of a basket slung under one of the cabinets.

‟Banana, apple… I have plenty to work with. Chocolate and red wine to start. Later, I am going to make a pomegranate-chocolate snack later.

‟That’s a lot of chocolate.”

‟I’ll show you things to do with chocolate that will change your mind. You’ll want more.”

‟I already want more.” Tom said, moving papers off the small table in the galley, taking them to his work-station. ‟Are these the papers you signed?”

‟Those are the copies. I sent the originals off. Please, Tom, put those away and let’s enjoy the last of our time as a married couple.” Kaylee said while she set the breakfast table.

‟Did you sign both sets?” Tom said as he was flipping through the annulment forms. ‟You signed this one.”

‟Yes, I signed them both the same way at the same time.

‟Same exact way?”

‟Same exact places, both sets, why?”

Tom coughed, then laughed.

‟You signed these papers in the wrong places.” He nodded as he flipped though the form. ‟Yup. The clerk of the court will reject this filing.”

Tom laughed at Kaylee ‘s jaw-drop moment.

“We are still married.” His crooked smile let her know he enjoyed this.

Kaylee could only facepalm and moan a cuss-word.

“This just became a lot more difficult.”

And on a personal note: Three hundred miles.

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Long hours of driving, to the biggest little city in the world to visit Mama Dash.

Mom is doing better, a needle slid into the fractures of her back and injected a plastic glue has stabilized the back of the lady whom I  am proud that she will call son.

Her strength and muscle mass has greatly suffered from her last ten-days in a hospital bed.  So now, she tries to use a walker while taking steps.  The first effort was agonizingly slow.

Her greatest effort is to just sit up.  So she will be going to a rehab facility, we have hopes it will be a short stay.   The room she stays in is in Sister Sledgehammer’s home.  There is very little space for her to use a walker in her room.  Overall the house is okay, but the bed-wall clearance is quite small.

Now, after working on that round of ideas and thoughts, Sister Sledge has brought the eleven-year-old uncle-napper and we sat together for some minutes.

With a few nods and winks with Princess #1.  We invited Sister (I am going to have to come up with more names.  I have 4 sisters! One brother who I have not nearly as much contact with as I would like)  who is 11 year old’s mom, to come out to my car.

I made a gift of the lightweight recurve bow, a fingertab I sat up last night and designed for her hand. She walked around the hospital room rattling the fingertabs whilst tied to her finger. LOL

So the day was successful. Got to see mom, got to see dad. Saw two sisters.

And made a pre-teen dance with joy. She promised me she would shoot every day. (I have no doubts) and she also admitted to not started the little story I asked for. (Get her brain exercised during the summer break.) one to two pages of a story about anything she would like.

I would also put it here, with her pen name. (Only eleven, I won’t put her real name out. )  So she seemed excited.  BUt I think it was short-lived. She is far more interested to make the tiny, pointy sticks fly than write. ;o lol.

So let’s send good thoughts to Mama Dash, to the Zombie Snowman in the back yard. And one happy preteen that will shoot her heart out.

For now, I am tired.  I have an achy back, too many hours standing and driving. I cannot sit still.  So I am going to lay down.

How fatigued do you get to write?

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Looking at the screen, my eyes cannot keep open – and yet it is just before lunch.

No urge to shoot the bow, I did string it. But I opened the door and it was like a sauna outside already in the morning. Not sure what it is.  Perhaps it is the worry and coming down off the rage of sticking my finger into the eye of fate and yelling a profanity.

It started when driving the (nearly) 3 hours back from Sister Sledge’s house.

So now I write.  How do you write when the fatigue sets in? Am I lazy? Or is it my imagination has blown a circuit breaker and needs to be reset?

All the words I put down are … middle school failure level…

I mean I can spell and understand pseudopolypharmecutical (Fake multiple medications) but I have trouble with philatelist? or … what was the other? Subsumed? I don’t recall.  I ended up doing more reading than writing. *sigh*

I do not know what I can bring to the table for your pleasure. I am writing an anthology of horror, I love the use of a mirror in horror.  Dracula could not see his reflection.  So if you think you have someone who is sweet, sexy, seductive and he is standing behind you copping a feel, and you look at your reflection in a mirror/window/chrome teapot and you are alone? Um… you just graduated into a ghost story.

So now I work on ask you.

How do you get around being fatigued?

How to maintain?

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I am shaking my pompoms like a madman on too much coffee. (think of Renfield after an 8 shot espresso with a double shot of simple syrup) at my dad, mom, sister, brother-in-law, nieces (the 11-year-old that kidnaps me for archery) and the 15-year-old that is in the middle of the teenage angst.

Meanwhile I am the fun uncle that shoots so that he shaves the feathers off his arrows. (That downside? I did not bring fletching equipment! Ack! … Oh well, shooting a bare stick is better than not shooting at all.)

I also sit down with the 15-year-old and tell her about dads who seem to have withdrawn. Meanwhile that dad is on my list to chat with.  HIM I can pour a bourbon with. (Me, rum, or vodka with a splash of tabasco)

My question, how much longer can I do this without weeping in the corner? My teeth feel sore. I am grinding them.

I stand out in the back yard and stick my finger up into the sky. (you guess which one from a defiant gesture. Anger at the butthead that allows such illnesses.

But alas.  I focus here.

Anyway.

Mama Dash. Ill, possible multiple myeloma (bone cancer)

Papa Dash: Recovering from surgery, but he “DFO”d in the hospital the first night and the pregnant nurse did the CPR thing for a moment. Now he has a bruise that is impressive, something i am watching for spread or swelling that might indicate internal bleeding.

Sister Dash (Tough enough for me to call her Sister Sledge-hammer)

3 years after an accident, plates removed from her ribs, S. Aureus found causing an infection, she has no ETA of release. Multiple, strong antinbiotics going in. Does this mean MRSA? I have not asked, I should….ugh.  *face palm*

Keep you posted.

Will go to writing a fiction thing in the morning.

I’m tired, again.

Good night

The Fave author …

 

Dash

Steel Gardens of Anid-Sta Generation 3. LAMPS

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Generation 3. LAMPS

Thea fluttered by the human female as they walked to the console.

Well, “walked” would not be entirely accurate.

Fae MacLir shuffled under the weight of gravity.

“Has this planet’s gravity increased? Oh, dayum, it is exhausting.” She gasped for breath. “Has the atmosphere changed?”

Thea fluttered next to her on “Glitter” the metallic, dragonfly-esq steed she sat on and laughed softly and the headset and mic-boom buzzed with the, now familiar, voice of Doctor Ophir Bhabel.

“You were told that you needed to take it easy. No, this planet has not gone through a gravity shift, it still is less dense than Earth and the atmosphere is still argon-oxygen. But the oxygen has increased some since you went into hibernation. Oxygen levels are increasing at one-percent per five-thousand years, that does not sound like much, but you have been in hibernation for six-times that long. Our oxygen levels now are about twenty-nine percent. You should be feeling better.”

“Compared to what, doctor? I was in cold storage.”

“Point made!” Thea giggled

“Thea, are you my escort?” Fae asked. “I am having all this come back to me, I know where I’m going.”

“You are the first human to have walked outside of the farm in our history.”

“The farm?”

“That’s the term. Freeze-Automated-Recovery-Mankind”

“Oh, who came up with that acronym?”

“I don’t know, legend has it that it was the writer of our story. The one tapping on the keys right now.”

Fae laughed. The effort made her head hurt after the strain of walking.

“Ugh, I thought more oxygen would make me feel better?” She said into the boom mic. “And this armored suit’s supposed to help?”

“You would feel worse than you do now. Probably would not be walking at all because you would be weaker than now.” The Doctor’s voice buzzed in her ear over the communications set. 

“Blech” Fae made a face. “I don’t see how I could feel weaker.”

“And the Laminated Armor high Mobility Protection System helps too, uses exoskeleton systems to help you move.”

Thea blinked her jeweled eyes with a grin.

“It makes you stronger, and then your body will also get healthy. We will wake the others up as soon as you find out why the Core Systems revived you instead of somebody important.” She said in a cheerful voice.

“That doesn’t help.” Fae shook her head. “I am worried there is something wrong and I am the only one that could be woke up.”

“Or maybe the virus is still in your genome and you are going to die, so the Core Systems prefer a low-level drone to die?”

“Again, you’re still not making me feel better.” Fae laughed in a hysterical voice. “Here we are. Computer station five.”

Sliding her pass card over the sensor, thirty-thousand years of disuse weighed on the circuitry, a long pause.

A moment passed, the light blinked amber, over and over.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, do you perform maintenance on…”

The light turned green and the door buzzed for a half-minute before it opened.

“You don’t go through this door very much, I imagine.” Fae shrugged.

Thea flitted around on her steed.

“We have never entered that room. It’s filled with a gas that is heavier than air and non-conductive. We cannot go in there. The Macrobots would be the only ones heavy enough, and they don’t have organic flesh to protect them like Minibots do, Macros would just stop working.”

“That is what took so long, ventilation systems were venting oxygen into the room.” Fae nodded, “We used sulfur hexafluoride in the days leading up to our hibernation to keep electrical shorts down, nothing grows in it, so ono bugs, no spiders, no flies. No rust or dust.”

“No servicing, either.” Thea looked at the larger human. “You risk blowing things up that have had no energy in them for so many years.”

“Can we have your service Micro and Nanobots survey the systems?” She asked Thea.

“Very good idea.” Thea tapped on the back of her steed as it landed on a flat surface near a keyboard. “Okay, Nanobots are on their way, just a few minutes.”

“Thanks. Let’s see what is possible.” Fae took a few steps into the middle of the room. “Illumination- full”

The room became brightly lit as the environmental control brought the cold-light emitters online.

“Wow!” Thea covered her eyes. “This is like the summer solstice outside.”

Fae laughed.

“Illumination- seventy-five percent.”

The light, still pure white, became less blinding.

“Much better.” Thea clapped. “If this is true everywhere, we have done it the hard way.”

Fae laughed.

“There is another who I know that does it the hard way almost all the time. He says it is easy to make it hard.”

Fae expected the sound of buzzing to fill ears like what Thea and her dragonfly did when they flitted around her. This was different.

It was a butterfly, with glossy-black wings. The speed that it flew was impressive, easily as fast as Fae could run on her best days.

It few around the room alighted on different boxes and moved on, then left in a few minutes.

“I thought it was bringing little bots in?” Fae asked.

“It did, each time it landed, it deposited hundreds of millions of Nanobots.” Thea said and looked at something on her arm. “We have them working, everything is clean. THere are some bad connections but repairs are going on, you can turn on the displays now. Nanobots are not affected by the electricity, so you can work on it while they monitor the systems.”

“Oh good.” Fae nodded. “So we are ready to go?”

“Go where? OH! Yes! Turn it on.”

The logo of the system loaded up and Thea the Minibot turned her head sidways.

“What’s that?”

“That, is a penguin. It is a common mark on the operating systems here.”

“What is a penguin?”

“A flightless bird that exists on Earth.”

“That’s funny. A bird that does not fly.”

“You have no clue, Earth has so many wonders, it would keep you busy for a dozen lifetimes.”

“You need to explore this home you have now.” Thea tilted her head. “Anid-Sta is larger, but has ten-percent less gravity. The Doctor taught me that.”

“He is right. Air is thinner, more gravity, you would have trouble flying.”

“Ick. I will stay here, thank you.”

Fae laughed.

“I said the same thing once. Now look at me.”

“You are a queen of the humans right now.”

“A Queen that wishes she had a bowl of chocoate ice-cream right now.” She laughed. “Well, let us find out where my subjects are and why the heck they are not waking up.”

“Click away!” Thea danced on counter, a hand-width away from the keyboard.

Fae started to laugh, then became quiet. Three-hundred centuries of logs and diagnostics the system entered into the log-files.

This was going to take a lot of work.

Incognito

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Incognito

You could call him old, his hair long gone white, but to call him elderly would be a mistake. Powerfully built, even if his waistline had shaped him more like a pear from too many indulgences.

He was heavy, his weight had yo-yo’d over the years, however never had it gotten to a dangerous level. He still could do more things than men that looked decades younger than him, including to the great smiles of his long supportive spouse. Married long ago to the same lady, often they worked without a break and she never looked back. He often brought her a present coming home from the “work shop”, as he referred to his company’s office. It had been a long time since he worked alone, now having thousands of his “Worker Elves” he would call them in the quiet evenings at home.

The stranger was enjoying his day out, walking along the edge of the ocean, the boardwalk was alive with sounds of summer and it made him smile.

Watching the people was a thing with him. It was how he ran his life and his business. It was all public relations, something he was good at- Making people feel good. Spying a pier that jutted out into the water, the gentleman walked out to enjoy the sun and sea, his eyes stinging from the strong sun that reflected off of the water.

The boards creaked under his steps. His keen eyes saw that the weathered wood was still sturdy for a few more years. He exchanged his glasses for the arctic snow-spec ones kept in his breast pocket glasses case. The titanium-nickel alloy — memory metal — wireframes were fitting comfortably.

He sighed heavily. The weather was so very nice, global warming? It felt good at the moment. A long harsh winter had battered his soul.

As head and CEO of the company he had sought to fix troubles in a world’s economy that was nearly as harsh as the weather had been. No one was happy, many had resorted to crime just to put food on the table.

Poachers, they would be called, and in some cases the Fish and Game officials looked the other way, family elders needing to keep families fed was more important than some laws.

Others — when only hunting for the pleasure, it became a case of exacting applications of the law, using the glory-poachers as examples to those that felt hunting for fun, leaving the dead and dying to rot in the sun, as justified.

“Economy and weather, the two are closely related,” Adjusting his hat. “After all.” He chuckled to himself in sad sighing tones.

Many a relief package, complete with food and, on occasion, items to help rebuild homes had kept him busy.

He even did the deliveries, with much anticipation. Saintly or wicked, when the people knew he was en route, they all anticipated his arrival with the wished for, needed and desired items.

The wicked were often disappointed when he lectured them or left a note, email or when he really needed to make a point, an empty delivery box.

On occasion he left a much undesired inventory.

One naughty American president had received a pen and his initials in a gold monogram embossed book of synonyms of the word “resignation”.

Still, this year seemed so rough and the misery dragged on, (And people would say he had it easy!) he enjoyed his job.

Walking along the pier, his hat pulled low to protect from the sun. It did seem more harsh than he recalled, but it was just days after the vernal equinox. The warmth of the sea and the sounds of the gulls overhead were much more soul warming than the icy-efficiency of the office that he hardly ever left.

No one to trust it to, no one was as willing to do what he did for what he charged governments and civilians alike — ZERO. It was a price that boggled most of the avarice and greedy companies, but always they wanted to have the same respect. No one was willing to do what his organization did, but everyone anticipated his involvement with great hope. When things were at their worst, it was known that his corps of workers did things that no one else in the world could do. The wishes of governments and people were sometimes unfulfilled, but most felt satisfied when the world was at its darkest.

And it was exhausting, the accountants were not happy — the outgo had far exceeded income to date. This year, disaster after disaster — Letters and emails of plea. He had to assign an entire department to triage the requests in order of need and worthiness. The request of the dictator and the other from the drug kingpin, placed at the bottom of the pile.

“More Money”… Seriously? For all the other requests that they deemed as having the greatest need, everyone broke their hump pulling their weight and twice that when they had to.

Management meetings that lasted far into nights as they hammered plans out for the following delivery schedules.

The arguments were epic, even the dark-haired manager from the south, Josh, who spoke with a soft voice that made his accent that much more difficult to understand to the old Celt, had raised his voice during one of the planning sessions.

A peaceable man Joshua, he had grown a beard like the CEO, but his facial hair was sparse and dark as opposed to the older leader’s once red – now white – hair.

He liked Josh, a funny man on occasion. Liked his wine a bit too much, however, and had a tendency to wear sandals to office parties. His obvious scars, long healed over, earned from an episode with fasteners that scarred his upper and lower appendages.

Always was organizing toga parties. For a kindly person he did like his parties. “TOGA! TOGA!” The soft-spoken ex-carpenter would often chant.

It made the old man laugh.

But now it was over for a while. Meetings were not scheduled for the foreseeable future, so using his RHIP (Rank Has It’s Privileges) he told the managers to hold down the fort. He was going for a rare holiday.

Looking about… THERE! The perfect spot to rest while the missus was getting her nails done. After that she was getting her “colors” done at some place called “Serge’s”. Not sure what that all entailed, but for a thousand U.S. Dollars, she had better sparkle.

“She always sparkles.” He laughed to himself as he stepped towards the weathered bench. “Oh! This does look like a great spot.”

Hard wood of a bench never felt so good. No one to call him on his mobile phone. (Left it in the office.) No one but a boy-child near him that was looking over the water with a pay-to-view binocular. His older brother had just given him several quarters when the youth wanted to watch a regatta out on the water, the multi-colored sails looked like so many exotic birds.

Naming off the different boats, the older brother laughed and ran to the next telescope stand. Betting with his brother with yells on the favorite boat, it was a good sound.

A great sound while he sat in the sun.

The warm sun. Oh the sun!  It relaxed him like he had not felt in months, and he felt himself nodding off. Dreams of the season to come.  But that was going to be different — calmer he hoped.

If only the Einstein Time Dilation Device had not malfunctioned last year — without the ETDD life was much more difficult that time. However, the department in charge was promising that life would be far better this year.

He hoped so. It was imperative to have the boss happy.

Vaguely aware of a clicking sound, he knew someone had taken his picture. But he ignored it and slept on, he had missed the sun like a flower might in the dead of winter. It had been so long since he had just relaxed and let the vitamin-D generate in his skin. Nothing was going to bother him now.

Because, for the first of June?

Santa was on vacation.
©2015 Dash McCallen all rights reserved

Dragonmaster University Chapter 33. After Metal shop

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(Note, this is a rewrite.  There was a missing chunk out of the last third.  So I leave this non-repost for your repast, re-read, review and reply if you care. So this non-repost will replace a non-reblog of the re-imaged rewrite. )

Chapter 33. After Metal Shop

 

Holy crap!

Metallurgical class from the autumn semester was not easy, but this semester, they put to action the chapters they had read out of the Book of Smites and the workbook “Alloy Allies”, written by some hammer-slinging maniac named Hephaestus.

Jona came back to the dorms on the Emerald floor covered in soot and sore to the bones, going straight to the showers, he barely had the strength to take off his clothes and stand there in the hot water as it cascaded over his shoulders.

He hurt so bad, even swear words were not enough to describe the all-day torture. Several minutes passed before he was able to scrub with a sponge that grew on a stick and struggled with that when he saw that the oversized pool of water that served as a bath for larger swimming dragons and thought that it would be enjoyable to just sit in the warm waters.

But it was so far to walk on his sore legs. Professor Vuul, the fire-drake from the south had him pumping the bellows for the forge for the last two hours— after he had swung a hammer on different metals that he learned to heat from barely able to hold it in his hand, to sparkling white-hot.

He shook his head, he had to fill the great tub and even with the massive-multiple faucet, it would take longer than he wanted to wait, and he had hot water now.

With the hot water running over his shoulders and cascading down his body, he felt a great deal better.

He was standing there with his eyes closed, letting the water do the magic of bringing a soul back to the comfort zone when he felt a soft hand slide over his left shoulder.

It was Kolo, the teaching assistant to Professor Vale.

“Let me wash your back. You look like you are in pain.”

Jona covered up as much as he could, yipping like a startled puppy.

“You… I mean… me… I’m…”

“You are naked, yes, and so am I. But relax, I was watching you and you need someone to wash you. We are on the same team, right? We take care of each other.” She smiled, her tail slowly sliding over his hip while the girl dragon rubbed his back with a fibrous sponge that a dragon-team harvested from halfway around the world.

Kona’s hands, covered in human like skin on the palm, had a slightly coarse texture, like the paw of a cat. It was very sensual, but Jona was not ready for sensual.

He was in too much pain with overused muscles that he never thought he had, understanding now, more than ever, why his dad was so strong.

Even with her ministrations of creams and perfect pressure of her fingers, Jona’s body punished him with cramps and heavy, aching arms that could not shut the water off to the shower, his fingers didn’t want to close tightly enough without cramping.

“Jona, you need a cuddle for the night.” Kolo said matter-of-factly as she turned the hammered-bronze and emerald water control to “off” and draped a large towel around his shoulders and tied the belt at his waist, creating a large tunic of soft brushed cloth against his skin.

“What? Are you trying to get me in your bed?”

“You can keep your clothes on, but you should know by now, dragons like to touch and be touched. I will let you sleep in my arms, it will be a help heal your muscles and you can go back to class.” She smiled, her eyes sparkled like nothing else. Kolo did not have faceted eyes like full-blooded dragons, but she had the glint that stopped conversations. “Besides, the cloth in that robe you wear has medicines in the fibers, they do the most work. I will just help you sleep.”

“Aw, I can’t do that, Sprite would not understand with another body in the bed.”

“Sprite is a dragon.” She smiled. “This is what she will desire most as she grows, the more the better in her mind. Dragons sleep together.”

Jona hurt in all his muscles. The thought of having the gentle touch of this dragon that he had a crush on sleeping with her arms and tail around him was beyond his dreams of desire.

“And I have a special nightshirt to wear to bed.” Jona said. “My mom made it for me.”

“Sprite has told me she loves cuddling with you and that shirt a great deal. It’s made of the finest fibers that could be found of Honeytree thread.” Kolo nodded. “When I was little, I had a sleep-ball made of Honeytree thread.

“Honeytree thread?” Jona blinked, it was the first time he had heard of the name.

“It grows in a valley two days’ flight from here. Think of the fur of a long-haired kitten, only as long as your arm and twice as soft.”

“How? I mean…” Jona stuttered.

“I have studied a great deal. I am still learning every day.” Kolo said softly, sitting on his bed, pulling him to her arms.

She was absolutely correct. His aching muscles needed to rest, the girl dragon laying with him, with her arms around him. The three of them lay in her huge bed, Sprite against his chest, Kolo spooned to his back, it was nothing like what he expected, it was like being in a giant kitten hug, without being overheated.

For all their scales, dragons were able to give an immersive sleep. And Jona slept without dreams, in the medicated toga, Kolo’s healing touch, Sprite’s love, his body healed far more quickly than if he slept alone.

Kolo watched the Jona sleep, her parents would fart flames to have a daughter curled up with a first-year student, and not wait until he was ready to graduate.

But he made her smile widely. For all his flaws for being a young human, he had the  pheromones of a dragon, the brilliant mind of the best of humans and the heart of a master.

She just had to mentor him into being what he could be. She had to talk with the Green Man.

For now, however, Kolo the youngest, of the water clan of swimming dragons, closed all three eyelids on both her eyes and slept with the human in her arms who slept against her chest in a wonderful, warm snore.