By Absinthe Disclaimers: see the prologue. Chapter 20: Sarah stretched deliciously in the cool air. The sky was a perfect cerulean blue, and the chlorophyl scent of the grass crushed beneath her bare feet was more intense than she'd ever been aware of. She felt as though she'd lived all the previous years of her life half-asleep and was just now truly waking up. Maia crept up behind her, watching over the blonde's shoulder as Dr. Blockhead writhed in his straight-jacket. He was still suspended upside down over that cauldron, but the jacket was looser now, and he was clearly quite close to sliding out of it. Maia snickered as he wriggled out, and awkwardly swung off of his scaffolding safely onto his pasty white feet. Sarah applauded him. Maia merely watched the body manipulator with an air of cool dis-interest. Their chat of the night before might have served to illuminate a little depth in the man's apparently shallow soul, but had not increased Maia's respect for his occupation an iota. "Good morning, ladies," he said with forced cheerfulness. "Rehearsing on your vacation?" Sarah asked, trying not to notice his discomfort. Maia merely smirked ever so slightly as the realization dawned on both women that the walls of trailers were far from soundproof. "I think best while I'm working," Dr. Blockhead replied, stripping off the jacket and hanging it carefully over the arm of the scaffold, "I was just pondering the conversation we had this morning, Maia." "Oh?" "Yup. I think I found a way to retire," he continued, blithely even as the Conundrum poked his tatooed head out of the smoking cauldron and grinned toothily at the gathering, "but it's best not spoken of here. I don't suppose, by any chance, you two enjoy fishing?" "Actually . . . no, but I've heard some unsubstantiated rumors about Maia's skills in that department," Sarah elbowed her new lover teasingly in the abs. "Me? Why, whatever do you mean?" the dark woman replied in a mock southern accent. "A little bird named Caleb once told me that he saw you take a fish right out of the water; bare handed." "Hrmph. Well, if we're going to go, we need to get this car shit out of the way first." They eventually found their way to a river. It was well on its way to being a part of the Everglades, sans alligators, and the trees lining the banks were sufficient to make the fishing expedition a private one. It was there that Dr. Blockhead revealed a rather dubious plan to gain sufficient funds for a comfortable retirement. He went on, in an irritatingly verbose monologue, for nearly thirty minutes about a nearby cult of quasi-baptists that used rattlesnakes in their worship ceremonies. Blockhead felt that with the proper assistants (ie, Maia, Sarah, and the Conundrum) he would be able to convince them that he was the Messiah. It seemed that their philosophy of "if it hurts us then it was Gods will" was exactly the opening someone with his qualifications could follow right into the little cult's pockets. Sarah balked. Maia shrugged. The Conundrum belched and everyone fanned their noses. The crickets he'd eaten for breakfast were returning to haunt them all. "So?" "So WHAT?" Maia returned, glaring briefly at Blockhead, who was applying a liberal coat of sunblock to his pallid skin. "So will you help? It shouldn't take long, and I'd be happy to cut you in." "How mu-" Maia's reply was interrupted by an indignant punch on the arm. "Maia! That's illegal, and it's immoral, we're not helping you, we're sorry," Sarah stated firmly, managing to thinly disguise the unexpected pain in her poor, abused knuckles. If asked, Maia would have had to admit to briefly toying with the idea of helping the poor man. She felt a certain odd kinship with him, but she was in love, and her Love said no. In this small thing, Maia felt she could indulge Sarah. Gods knew, there were some things that she might never be able to give her. "We'd only be giving them what they want to see. Who knows, it might help their cause!" Dr. Blockhead pressed on. "Can we just fish?" Maia shrugged, giving Dr. Blockhead a helpless glance, and waded slowly into the cold water. Sarah stuck a sandaled foot into the water and withdrew it immediately. "I think I'll watch from here," she said. The blonde took a seat on a mossy log and proceeded to toy with the guinea hen feathers attached to the fringe on her designer cut-off shorts. When Dr. Blockhead FINALLY finished with the sunblock he handed it over, and Sarah daubed it on. Their sojourn continued in silence for a few minutes. Maia standing thigh deep in the unpleasantly cold water, her hair up in a tight bun and her graceful neck arched and slightly twisted. Her hands were poised to make a lightning fast grab. "Pass me the sunblock." "You just had it!" "Well, I need it again. Fork if over, Blondie, before I get done Cajun-style." "What you gonna do if I don't, huh?" "Melt." "Hmf. Here, if it'll make you quit mewling." "Ow! What are you in your spare time, a relief pitcher for the White Sox?" "Hold it. You said ‘ow'? Mr. Rattlesnakes and strychnine? I feel cheated!" Sarah was about to continue with her tirade in a Lady Macbeth-like fashion when she was brutally silenced by a sloppy wet smack, as an expertly tossed fish impacted with her face. She flung it aside in reflexive disgust as Maia grinned satisfiedly from the middle of the river. The Conundrum glared briefly at Sarah over her thoughtless near-waste of a precious catch and scrambled to the shore, scrabbling in the mud for the still-thrashing fish. Pressing his face to its silvery belly, he began to gnaw as voraciously as a starving dog into its innards. Sarah looked on in fascinated horror and suppressed the urge to vomit on Dr. Blockhead, who dozed happily in the sun, not even opening his eyes at the grotesque sounds of his cohort's dining habits. Maia cast one glance at the gruesome proceedings before returning to listening for any signs of disturbance in the water that might give away the location of her prey. A clammy fingertip tapped insistently on Sarah's bare shoulder, and she turned to face the puzzle-tatooed visage of the Conundrum, who grinned placatingly at her. He held up one half of the now-dead fish as in offering, the garishly pink loops of its entrails hanging over the edges of his cupped palms. Sarah swallowed uneasily and managed to squeak out, "No...thanks..." "Raw fish has a lot of good protein in it, don't knock it," advised Blockhead sleepily. He added, as an afterthought: "Although your digestive system might not be able to handle it." A second fish landed flopping on the bank. Sarah eyed it warily, then turned her attention to the paperback book she'd brought with her, content now with her firsthand knowledge of her lover's fishing proficiency. They returned to the trailer park with a bucket of fish, which Dr. Blockhead obligingly cleaned and filleted. The Conundrum cleaned up the leftover bits, crunching happily on discarded fish heads. Maia pretended to ignore his antics while she busied herself with lighting up a charcoal grill, but she was secretly entirely disgusted with the Conundrum. In fact, by the end of the day, and after being introduced to several of their friends and colleagues, Sarah and Maia were ready to leave. Dr. Blockhead's sermons on normality versus deviance, and nature's abhorrence of normality were beginning to wear on their nerves. Maia was already feeling a touch of anxiousness to leave when they were finally alone in the dark. Somehow, she felt that she would never again be able to relax fully. She would never know if Section was stalking them until it was too late. There was a rainbow around the nearly full moon. They sat at the picnic table outside their trailer and stared up at it. "Let's go inside," Sarah suggested, her hand finding its way ever so stealthily up the back of her lover's shirt. As she rose obediently, Maia cast a single prayer towards whatever deity might happen to be listening. Let this not be the last night. Let this last forever. Back to part 19 Back to The Beginning To My Fic Page
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