My legs began to shake and, without punching out, decided to quit for the day. I slowly sank to a sitting position. In my mind the dumpster would have been preferable. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” I commanded. For emphasis I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms. Just try to withstand my wrath.
My companion said nothing. He was really very good at that.
“I don’t do flying. I’m not one with the flying, with the wind. With the things that fly. Birds! It’s not me.”
He made no indication that he heard me.
“Are you even listening?”
He was silent for an entire minute. A long, dragging, shoot-me-already minute. Strange things, minutes like that. As if the entire world is encompassed in that itty bitty space of time. It’s almost magical. Sort of awe-inspiring. But no. No, I’m not in the mood. Ha, all you distracting thoughts! I shan’t be diverted from my anger.
“…I am incapable of flight.”
Right, right. “So then what was that? Convenient opposite-of-falling?”
“I cannot fly. I can only distort reality for small, definite periods of time.”
“I’m one with the bunny; I hop. But oh no, that’s just not good enough for you. You’re all one with the birds; you distort reality. Nyah nyah.”
His hood tilted a bit to the side. “Do you require a doctor?”
“Ha!” I got to my feet. I wasn’t going to stick around and be insulted like this. I don’t need to take this sort of abuse, this pestering insinuation that I, 00Amy, do not have it together. That I am not good enough. I am a perfectly capable of handling any and all situations.
“You are not allowed to leave.”
I spun around faster than a cat who has wandered into the dog pound. He did not just say that. “I’m not allowed, am I? Allowed?” I jabbed at his collarbone… or rather, at where I assumed his collarbone was. Shrouds don’t allow for much speculation. “Listen, buddy, ‘cause I’m not going to repeat myself. I’m allowed to go wherever I please. I’m allowed to leave whenever I please. I please to leave. Goodbyurrrgh…”
I finished the grunt with an impressive yelp. That hurt, that really did. My abdominals cried out in distress. Poor, poor perfectly toned stomach. It didn’t take kindly to being kneed under most circumstances, but he was unpredictably strong. Not only that, my emotions were in an uproar. I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to rip him to shreds. But somehow even that little bit of contact was worth the pain. This confused me greatly.
I whimpered pitifully and my courage fled. I imagined it vacationing in a nice seaside resort. It got to make sandcastles on the beach. I got to wonder if I had any permanent damage that might lead to embarrassing gastrointestinal problems. Flatulence is friend to few.
He grabbed my wrist. All vice-like his grip was. And cold. He jerked me toward him and pulled my arms behind my back. I was left to stare up into his hood. I couldn’t see much of anything there but I had a sudden insight that what awaited me was bliss. He would throw back his covering and stare into my eyes until I felt my very soul was naked to him and he would kiss me. He would kiss me like no man had before, all intense and heated and blood-boiling. Romance novels got nothing on me.
But heroines in romance novels don’t usually get swept away by men with his job description…
What was his job description anyway?
Who is he really?
He’s going to kill me isn’t he? He’s gonna kiss me with a searing kiss of death. For all I know this is how he lures all innocent and shockingly beautiful women. And then he kills them, one by one. And just like me they think it’s going to be wonderful and they wait in anticipation and then boom! It happens. They’re dead. And all they’ve got to blame is lust for a man they’ve never really seen. Hot damn!
Sometimes I think enlightenment is just life’s way of blindfolding you near a cliff and daring you to play duck, duck, goose… in seven inch platforms. It’s all in good fun, really.
I felt a pinch on my wrists and heard a soft click.
“You handcuffed me!” I cried, with a tone of severe vexation. Where was my kiss? Not that I especially wanted to die…
He nodded and began leading me down the street. Obviously he feared my astute observational skillz. Right, probably as much as I respected his mad social skillz.
Now, there comes in life many opportunities for awkward moments. Most of them feel like a glaringly bright spotlight is suddenly pointed at you while you’re picking your nose. Not that this has ever happened to me. But I imagine the abrupt desire to melt into your shoes is pretty universal. This was one of those moments. As we walked, a palpable, most uncomfortable silence stretched between us. It leaned back and lazily sipped a piña colada while mocking us and nonchalantly chucking pink erasers at our foreheads to be sure we noticed.
If I had stayed home I could be shopping right now. For extravagantly priced merchandise, even, and plotting ways to be rid of Camry in my spare time. Instead I’m stuck here feeling for all the world like a moronic twit. Not a happiness.