By Absinthe Disclaimer: The characters of Melinda Pappas, Janice Covington, Xena, Sheriff Lucas Buck, Gail Emory, Caleb, and "Dr. Matt" belong to Universal and Renaisance and all those great people. My apologies for borrowing them. The rest of this goop, however, belongs to me, Absinthe. This is an Alternative story, meaning we've got some lesbian romo going on, if this bothers you, TURN BACK NOW. Thanks. Soundtrack: Sheriff Buck's theme song is undoubtedly "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones, "Precious Things" by Tori Amos belongs to Maia, and "Tiger" by Paula Cole goes to Gillian. Chapter 18: Maia rested her chin in her hand, fighting off drowsiness as the final strains of "Spice Up Your Life," combined with the cumulative weariness of two days of travel and insomnia began to take their toll. She was immensely relieved when the Bug rolled to a halt in front of ‘Arnie's Towing and Repair.' Maia scrabbled out of the back seat. "Thanks for the ride." She spared the erstwhile driver a nod of thanks, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. Pursing her lips, Maia watched Dr. Blockhead give Sarah some gentlemanly assistance out of the car. "Thank you for your help er...Dr....Blockhead." The blonde added the name only haltingly. She hoped vaguely that that was not indeed his real name. "It was my pleasure Madame." "Er..." Sarah glanced helplessly towards the dusty shack that housed Arnie's shop, wherein Maia was having a rather involved discussion with the attendant. "It looks like we may be stuck here for a while...Do you know if there are any decent places to stay around here?" "That would depend on your definition of decent. There's one place to stay, Mr. Thumb's Trailer Court. He has some nice set ups you can rent." Dr. Blockhead made a futile attempt to smooth out his moustache, "I can take you there if you need me to ." At this, he looked almost hopeful. "That's Ok, thank you, I don't want to keep you. We'll have to wait until the car gets here anyway." Sarah looked again towards the shack in which Maia was still quite involved with the attendant, " I better go see what's keeping her." She started towards the building, but Dr. Blockhead insisted on accompanying her. "Why don't you just leave this to your friend, and I can run you to Mr. Thumb's so you don't miss the good trailers?" He suggested. "No, thank you, I uh..." she fished for a good reason not to , "I don't want to leave her alone right now...she's uh...a little crazy." "She seems ok to me." "Yeah, well you see, she has these fits sometimes. It's not pretty." "What, is she like the Incredible Hulk or something?" "Uh... not exactly." Dr. Blockhead held the door open for her, then followed her inside. "-where do you want it taken?" The pimply teenager behind the counter was asking. "Just bring it here. We'll deal with it then." Maia slapped the counter with the palm of her left hand and turned on her heel. "Is everything ok?" Sarah asked, doing a quick about face to go back outside. "Yup. Looks like we're going to be here awhile. We should-" "I already found a place to stay." Sarah interrupted. "Great." "I'll be staying there as well, so if you want..." Dr. Blockhead trailed off, leaning casually against the overburdened yellow Bug. "We'll see you there!" Sarah said, perhaps a little too loudly. Dr. Blockhead repeated his offer a few times before finally, reluctantly leaving. Maia sat down heavily on a cement drain pipe. in the shade it was chilly, but at least there were birds singing in the trees. "I think he likes you," Maia teased her friend as Sarah joined her on the pipe. The blonde chose to ignore the comment. "I wonder if the ‘Conundrum's' tattoos are everywhere," she asked. "The puzzle pieces? They weren't on the palms of his hands." "What about his feet?" "Couldn't see," Maia yawned hugely. "How's the shoulder?" "Getting there." Silence fell for a few minutes. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" Sarah asked, leaning against the larger woman. "No. I believe in lust at first sight though." "Have you ever been in love?" "Yeah." "With Gillian?" Maia sucked in a sharp breath, "Love...Yeah, we were in love. Love throws your focus; makes you stupid, she'd still be alive if it weren't for love," she threw the last word out like a spent shell casing. "No. It makes you give." Maia sighed at her young friend's idealism and let her head droop to rest on Sarah's honey gold hair. And here I go being stupid again. "What are we going to do?" Sarah asked. "Get a new car." "No, that's not what I mean. What are we going to do after we leave here? What are we looking for, where are we going?" "West." "What, we're just going to wander around? You know, you could do a lot of good. We could help people," Sarah poked her friend's forearm to accentuate her point. "Help people? Sarah, people don't need the kind of help I could give them," Maia jerked her head upright and stared off into the distance. This time Sarah knew better than to waste her breath asking for more answers. Mr. Thumb's Trailer Court was crowded with trucks and trailers reading things like, "Tam-Tam, the WILD CHILD," and "Amazing Live Dinosaurs!" Sarah thanked the driver who'd given them a lift from Arnie's before perusing the selection of bizarrely painted cars and R.V.s. "Oh wow, look, it's your old trailer!" Sarah cracked, pointing to the "Tam-Tam"-mobile. "Ha-ha," Maia wrinkled her nose. Mr. Thumb himself was at the check- in counter. A platform running all the way along the back wall made the top of the desk accessible to the tiny man. Sarah once again stifled the urge to just keep her eyebrows permanently at her hairline so that she wouldn't offend anyone by being surprised by them. "So, uh, have you ever done any performing? Seems there's a lot of people in the showbiz here tonight," Sarah said, innocuously enough. "You think just because of my size I would demean myself so much as to take part in that? I rarely go to the circus, much less bumble around IN it. I happen to have a Bachelor's in economics and a degree in business management. If I based all my opinions purely on the appearances of others, why, I'd have to say, judging by your soft clothing, and her menacing demeanor that you were the perfect butch-femme gay couple." Mr. Thumb finished finally, giving them both a superior glance over the tops of the registration forms. A pregnant silence ensued. "Can we have the keys, sir?" Sarah asked, she was enjoying the uptight man's discomfiture too much to point out that they weren't a couple per se...yet. Mr. Thumb blushed a lovely shade of scarlet and handed over a set of keys on a fake shrunken head key chain. The sun was long gone, and the temperature outside was dropping fast. A heavy moon hung full in the clear sky, drowning out most of the stars with its light. "Watch out!" Maia warned just moments before Sarah stumbled halfway into a three foot wide cauldron. "Looks like Dr. Blockhead is here already," she added as she pulled Sarah upright by the back of her shirt. "Puh." Sarah replied, wiping her face off furiously, "There was something in there." "Oh lovely. Come on," Maia replied, exhaustion making her impatient. They found their unit and struggled with the lock. The dim interior was decorated in the colors that had been popular in the early ‘70s. Sarah threw her overnight bag onto the clean but tasteless couch. "I never thought I'd be so glad to see shag carpeting." "Oh don't be such a snob." Maia returned, scrubbing her face with the palm of her hand. "Sorry." Sarah shrugged and went to explore their temporary domain, "Hey, we have a real bathtub. Wan' me to run you some water?" "Tomorrow. Come to bed." They both performed their nightly ritual ablutions and, after a brief argument about not sharing the bed, curled up together on the slightly lumpy mattress. The growing attraction between the pair made it a guilty pleasure for the both of them. Maia drew great comfort from Sarah's calm proximity, but she dreaded separation for other reasons as well. Maia watched her friend drift off to sleep, enjoying the gentle play of white moonlight on Sarah's still face. The moment of peace did not last long, as Morpheus soon claimed her too. One foot in front of the other, she told herself muzzily. Her feet and hands had long ago gone numb, and the cold was slowly creeping up her legs and arms. She had never been so cold in her life. She could hear cars rumbling past on the highway, but she dared not go any closer and try to thumb a ride. One foot in front of the other. Her hair was falling out of the tight ponytail it had been in , and chunks of it were falling off of her head. She didn't notice the brittle, singed stuff breaking off, she concentrated on staying upright. It was so cold. She wanted to lay down and just sleep for a little while. She wasn't feeling the cold quite so much now, and for a moment she felt relieved. No, that was just her body going into shock and beginning to freeze. Just take another step. The wind was blinding. She stumbled against a tree. She pushed off and kept going, her eyes on the ground. Damn the ice and the burning in her shoulder. The blood that had dripped down to her hand was dry and flaking off already. Her breath was freezing into a white cloud in front of her face. Her eyes drifted closed just for a second and she stumbled again, jerked fully alert for a few moments more, then she fell. She caught herself on the palms of her hands, the sudden movement wrenching the shrapnel in her shoulder. A fresh flow of hot blood coursed down her back. She could feel the cold seeping through her blood dampened coat. Grunting, she collapsed onto her face in the slush. Her clothes were soaked now. Maia let out a weak sob. "Fuck." She whispered. Taking a deep breath, she heaved herself back up. She would not let them break her. She would get out, she was so close. All she had to do was walk. Just put one foot in front of the other. She couldn't feel the ground, and the dizziness was getting worse. She tucked her purple fingers under her armpits to warm them in spite of the pain it caused. It wasn't long before she fell again. She lay there for a long time before she managed to get back up. This is nothing. she scolded herself, Move. God dammit. UP! Get up you stupid bitch. You said you'd get out and you will. But the rage that had sustained her all these years was quiet for once, and she couldn't seem to make her legs work. Just into the city. Just into the city, go the steps and the miles will take care of themselves. Pain is nothing. It will be gone soon, the cold will not last forever. It will all pass in time. And she was up and walking again. Just another step. Another step through this endless night. If only the sun would rise, at least it might warm her a little, but the days were brief, and the night would go on forever. It was nearly 3 a.m. and the warm bed was no match for the ice in her heart. Sarah slept on in the contented way of a woman with a clear conscience. One of her arms rested lightly over her bedmate's shoulder. Maia gingerly eased out of the trailer, as silent as the night itself. The moon had made over half of her nightly journey through the sky and now hung a little past her zenith. She was tempted to go back inside and just lay abed, but she knew that even if she fell asleep again the dreams would return. Lying awake watching Sarah sleep struck her as voyeuristic, so she started walking. Maia still felt the cold of the northern winter in her bones, though the warmer, humid Florida climate made all the old injuries ache from the change. She limped a little until her muscles warmed up enough to work properly. Old at 30, Maia mused. She paused to peer into the cauldron, which was then exuding an evil odor. Backing away quickly, she caught a flash of light glancing off of a window from the corner of her eye. The flash was followed by the sound of a door being softly shut. Someone else was awake at this ungodly hour. Catching sight of a tanned, mustached face, Maia pursed her lips and moved in to investigate further. What manner of mischief might the likes of Dr. Blockhead the "body manipulator" be about at this time of night? Chapter 19: More from the eyes of the Man Dr. Blockhead. Also contributed by Lydia. Of course, the real reason I'm in Gibsonton -- the reason nobody really knows yet, not even the Conundrum, though I think he suspects -- is to say goodbye, to bid my farewells to my colleagues in the field and thereby to the sideshow trade itself. This will probably be the last time I see Gibsonton, for now that I am become a nearly middle-aged old geeze, I must put away childish things, and all that Hemingway type crap. Who knew you could become a grown- up a decade after you're allowed to vote? Anyway. The reason I'm leaving and giving up the glorious struggle to keep America in touch with its more twisted roots is just as simple as this: I'm not getting any younger doing it. Ask not for whom the biological clock tolls, it tolls for thee. Found a gray hair in my goatee the other morning and nearly swallowed my toothbrush in shock. It's easy to forget birthdates on the road -- no time for it, not when you've got to show at least fifty-plus intimate strangers that you can have your face ground into broken glass, and then get up and introduce the next act with nary a whimper -- but after some quick calculation and mouthwash, I realized I'm nearly thirty-five. Which means in another five years, I'll be forty, and in another ten, fifty. Given the average lifespan of an adult white male, minus about twenty years of chain smoking, and you have nearly half your life over, give or take. Not a pleasant thought to have to face over the Aquafresh first thing in the morning, and not exactly conducive to sleeping like a Percodan fiend, either. So here I am, awake at 3:00 a.m. in Mr. Thumb's trailer park Riviera, and pondering the deeper facets of human experience, viz. and to wit, getting closer to that Great Motel Room in the Sky. I was never really the introspective type before all this aging shit popped up on me, though. I was only twenty-two when I started my act, working the boardwalks of Myrtle Beach, and I never thought maybe one day I'd actually stop and look at myself and think, "What the fuck have I done with my life thus far?". You know, you think you're immortal when you're a kid -- and I don't mean like that "vampire" chick Conundrum picked up last year when we were doing the S&M clubs in New York -- but then one day you wake up and you realize you're thirty-five years old and basically a vagrant with no permanent address except maybe your car. I wish I had some fucking cigarettes. I wish I could just go to sleep. I wish the Conundrum would stop making those weird-ass noises from the back of his throat every time he inhales. Lucky bastard's conked out on the rug, but does that mean I, the long-suffering roommate, get an iota of consideration? Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, let the record show: I do not. Mostly I wish I had someone to talk about all this to , though. I mean, yeah, okay, I see the Conundrum nearly twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but he's chasing rabbits in his sleep right now, and he thinks I'm crazy for wanting to retire, anyway. Maybe he's right, maybe this mini van-and-white- picket-fence-with-2.5-kids-and-a-pair-of-labrador-puppies midlife crisis thing is just a phase, maybe life as a norm will kill me, but I could still use a sympathetic ear at the moment. Barring that, of course, there's always the option of taking a brisk pre-dawn walk. There's a huge full moon out, bright as daylight -- maybe a little cool night air will help me clear my brain out. And then there's always the hope that I'll accidentally get hit by a passing car and just forget about the whole idea. Maybe I could get some sleep in the hospital. With this hope in mind, I shrug on my leather jacket and slip outside. I've gone maybe five feet out of the trailer park when I hear footsteps on the gravel road behind me, and someone says: "Couldn't sleep either, Dr. ... Blockhead?" Someone sounds like a night DJ on an alt-rock radio station, one of those voices that sounds just as comfortable saying "Eat hot lead, Kinkaid" as "We'll be right back after these messages from our sponsors". Luckily for me, Someone also sounds amused, so I turn around to see who it might be. It's the ever-radiant Sarah's strong-and-silent type lady companion, and I must admit, among other things, that the divine Miss Covington has excellent taste. Her friend is very beautiful in a way that fits well with natural surroundings like this one. She's also more than a little unnerving to suddenly find behind you late at night and alone. "No," I admit to her at last, hands in my coat pockets. "Got too much on my mind, I'm afraid. You?" She shrugs, chuckles a little. "You could say that, I suppose...mind some company?" Not that she strikes me as the sociable type, mind you, but the truth is, I'm not in the mood to be alone, and so maybe she isn't, either. It could be that type of night, after all -- Attack of the Insomniac Brains of Doom! -- so... "Not at all," I say amicably. "I was just gonna walk to the end of the road, watch the sky a little, maybe, turn back." "Sounds good to me," she says, and we walk on down the road in amiable silence, which I've always thought is the best way to be around someone. It's a beautiful night out, and it's nice not to have to make small talk. After a while, she asks: "So what've you got on your mind that's keeping you up?" "Oh...just realized I'm not getting any younger, I guess, and wondering if I really want to spend the rest of my life pounding nails into my nostrils...if this is really what I want to do with the rest of my life." "Trying to figure a way out of it, huh?" She sounds surprisingly sympathetic. "Yeah. Sideshow work doesn't exactly have a pension plan for retired performers. I never really thought before about what I'm going to do when I get too old for this...does that sort of thing ever bother you?" "The...last job I had didn't precisely provide for, ah, retirement options either, you could say. To be honest, I never thought I would make it to an age where that would begin to be a problem." And about all I can say to that, besides "So does a life of crime pay well, or is that just the ad copy?", is: "Oh." "You had another nightmare didn't you?" Sarah said almost as soon as Maia poked her head back inside. It was just a little after sunrise, and it wasn't a question. "I didn't wake you did I?" "How long has it been since you slept the night through?" "It doesn't matter." Maia shrugged, pulling clothes out of her bag to mask her bewilderment. "I know you don't want to talk to me about it, but something is wearing you away." Sarah grasped her friend's hand and pulled her a little closer, "Sit down with me. I got something for us to eat. I want to help you Maia. Will you let me?" They both picked at the food for a few moments, though Maia seemed on the verge of chuckling. "You're so innocent," she said at last, "You know you're the first person that..." she trailed off, "I don't want you to get hurt." "That first night we were together . . . It started then," Sarah firmly replied, "It's silly. We're being silly, I see the way you look at me, and it drives me crazy sleeping in the same bed as you and not being able to touch you. But I see the walls too. Sometimes I wonder if I'm reading you wrong, but I don't think so." The blonde leaned forward, reaching across the table. Such aggressiveness had never been in her nature, but Maia managed to make her act out of character as no one else could. Their souls spoke to each other as Maia would not allow their mouths to . It had been years since Maia had been around anyone that could make her feel, and it was painful in the way that circulation returning to a frozen limb causes it to burn with renewed sensation. "I'm not sure of anything right now. We may not be safe. I'm sorry." She looked down, "I should ne-" her speech was stopped abruptly by Sarah's mouth covering her own. For a breathless moment, Maia considered pulling away, but the contact was too sweet; too long desired. She melted forward, drawn into the deliciousness of the moment. The instant heat she felt was strangely new, and while she was far from virginal, she felt giddy. "Nothing is going to happen. But if it does, then that means that now may be all we have. Perhaps we don't have time to equivocate and play these little games." Sarah continued, whispering. It occurred to Maia, not for the first time by any means, that the savvy art dealer from New York didn't believe a word she'd told her about the past and the demons it contained, and the unimaginable things that went on right under the public's collective nose. It made her smile to think that most people wouldn't. Maia stood up, drawing Sarah with her. The taller woman looked down into Sarah's eyes, eyes that revealed her entire, vital being. A thrill ran up her spine. "Teach me to make love to you." Sarah asked, suddenly hesitant now that she had gotten so close to what she wanted most. Maia smiled again at the blush now coloring the blonde's fair cheeks. She kissed Sarah's fingertips, moving slowly up until she buried her face in the younger woman's chamomile and rosemary scented hair. The reluctance of her mind; logical, strong resistance, broke down in the face of her emotions. Maia's surrender was sudden and complete. She wanted to learn every detail of Sarah's body. She stepped back, breaking contact for a moment. Maia unbuttoned Sarah's satin night-shirt impatiently, and finally the woman's voluptuous, ivory skinned body was laid bare. Sarah stood, trembling inwardly, hoping desperately that her excitement was not visible. She had never felt so naked and vulnerable before in her life. It wasn't that her pajamas lay crinkled on the floor, but it was the way that those laser like blue eyes devoured her. She'd been looked at before to be sure, but this time, she couldn't help but feel that Maia saw past her flesh and into the soul inside. When a few seconds had passed, though as far as Sarah could tell it had been hours, the blonde heard herself demand that Maia lose the blue jeans. She wanted to feel skin on skin: Now. Maia grinned, her eyes never leaving her lover's face. Their hands bumped into each other, as each went for the hem of her ancient t-shirt. Maia shook her head in facetious rebuke and slipped the garment over her head. Sarah was wide eyed in appreciation of the sinuous twist that the movement entailed. Before Maia had her hands completely free again, she snaked her own arms around the taller woman and unfastened her bra, tugging it off as well. Maia claimed another kiss, and while Sarah was distracted, moved them onto the bed. She straddled the blonde's hips, never losing the precious, hot contact of their lips. Sarah's half voiced complaint when Maia withdrew was interrupted by a gasp as knowledgeable teeth latched onto a delectable nipple. She snarled her fingers in Maia's uneven, wild curls and arched her back obligingly. Maia drew sensuous patterns on Sarah's smooth, satin body with her saliva, exploring. She let her fingers scout the heated apex of the blonde's legs before she slid with agonizing slowness down the length of Sarah's torso and allowed herself to taste . . . The toe-curling action long abated, the two new lovers leaned against each other languorously. It had to be about ten in the morning by then, the sun was slanting prettily through the window in straight rays. Sarah toyed with a piece of Maia's hair, an activity that she never seemed to tire of. Maia simply lay with her eyes half closed, enjoying a moment of complete and perfect peace. The voices in the back of her mind were silent for the moment; anxieties forgotten and guilt temporarily relinquished. She didn't notice Dr. Blockhead until he was suspended upside down over his cauldron. "Your friend is back," she quietly announced. "Is he?" Sarah asked, her mind clearly focused on more immediate concerns, "guess even highly trained body manipulators have to practice sometimes." "You think he's not doing that for your benefit? Right outside our window?" "Jealous?" the blonde teased, "I bet YOU can't do that." "Hang upside down over a pot of malodorous . . . eh . . . crap?" "No, drive nails into your head." "Wanna bet?" Maia darkly replied. "Not," Sarah gave the head resting on her stomach a speculative look, "really." Back to the Beginning |