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bluepenguinstories · 2 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter LXXII: Hot and Cold

I was having a nice kale and olive salad (the olives came from my olive garden, the kale also from my garden) with vinegar as dressing (from my vineyard, no less) for lunch with my beautiful wife (wife came from the bedroom to have lunch with me).

“Nice salad, isn’t it?” I asked my beautiful wife with her radiant pigtails.

“No. It’s quite a mean salad, actually. It should be punished to the fullest extent of the law,” she joked while shoving a whole pile into her mouth. She got some vinegar all over her fingers, but that just added to her charm.

“But hun, this is our house. We are the law.”

We laughed together. These days, it was easier to laugh, and these light and soft moments helped put ease to my day to day life. It wasn’t a life without stress – there were chickens to feed, watering the garden and maintaining the farm, just to name a few. But those were stresses on my own terms, without worry over whether my life, or anyone else’s, were in danger.

There came a knock at our door. A series of heavy, intense thumps.

My heart raced. Made the same series of thumps that the door made.

Thoughts raced as well. Thoughts like, are we being raided? Are we under attack? From who? Cops? Mercenaries? Remnants of my pursuers from the past? Did I or my wife do something? Or is it because of our identity or how we live? Are they going to break the door down?

“I’ll get it,” my wife got up with a smile and seemingly not a care in the world.

“Wait!” I reached out to try to get her to stay put. Our safety was first and foremost. God damn it, we should have installed a backdoor. I wasn’t sure if either of us could fit in the window, but even if we could, what if we were too slow and whoever was out there got us?

Instead, she reached over and put her hand over my own.

“It will be okay,” she assured me.

Oh, how I wish I could believe that.

She went over to the door and opened it. I expected some shouting to occur next, or some forceful action that would put me in shock. Worse, I couldn’t even see who was outside due to the door itself blocking my view.

“Uh...a-are you Juniper?” Stuttered out the shaky words with a tone I could only describe as ‘constipated’.

Yet somehow, it’s familiar at the same time, I thought.

I leaped out of my seat and rushed toward the door.

“Yeah, I am! And you must be Rachel?” My wife, who indeed, was Juniper, answered.

“Something like that…”

When I stood behind Juniper, my eyes widened:

There stood a tall, well-built woman (though not as tall as me) in a worn out leather jacket opened up and a plain white shirt underneath. She had jeans with holes in them, but that wasn’t important. No, what was important? Uh, she fidgeted a lot, and shivered, too, perhaps out of nervousness. Her index fingers sometimes poked against each other, but she soon transitioned into folding her arms together, unfolding them and holding one off to the side, and then scratching at her arms.

Her hair was shaved near-bald with only remnants of small hairs intact, which, given their dark shade and thickness, I was left to assume she had black hair before. She had black circles around her otherwise radiant eyes, and I almost thought she had been given a black eye from someone not too long ago until I realized it was eyeshadow. Then there was her jawline, deep and wide. Her skin looked like a warm and rich brown hue. Really, if there was ever a beauty to rival Juniper’s…

Well, I’d be interested to know what her hair looked like before she shaved it, I considered before I made any more physical evaluations on this guest of ours.

“A-Are you checking me out?” Rachel looked past Juniper and asked. Now it was my turn to shiver, as goosebumps filled me.

“Ahaha, no!” I laughed, “I was just curious what you might look like. I imagined all sorts of things based on our talk on the phone! You know, you don’t sound like you do on the phone. Where’s all your suave and flirtiness?”

She looked shocked as she took a step back.

Why are you the one being shocked? What about me?

“I’m sorry...if I gave you such an impression. I have trouble talking to beautiful people, especially when they’re alive. Which you two tick both boxes…”

“Uh...as opposed to talking to dead people?” I asked in total confusion. So this wasn’t going how I thought it would be: I knew we would have a guest, someone who knew Demetria well, and someone who had fallen under hard times, but despite all that, I didn’t expect them to be so strange right out of the gate. Luckily for me, I had experience dealing with strange people.

“Heh,” she looked off to the side and smirked, as if she was recalling some fond memory. “Yeah. I feel like I’m in good company around those who have ceased to be.”

“Right…”

“Oh, sorry! Where are my manners? I always forget those exist...uh…” she shook as she held out her hand. “You must be Vesuvius, right?”

“That’s me,” I took her hand. It was rather warm. Not all that surprising, given spring was in its second half of its lifespan, but it still seemed worth commenting on, “but you can call me Ves. Your hand is warm, by the way.”

“Really? I’ve had people tell me I’m quite cold,” she remarked, without a stutter or pause, this time.

“Who tells you that?”

“Ah…” she chuckled, “well, actually, I haven’t talked to people in a while, you see.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk while you’re here!” I gave her a thumbs up and smiled.

“Yeah, we were wondering when you would show up since it had been a couple months since your call,” Juniper added.

“Sorry about that, J...J...Juniper,” her face seemed to grow red, “I had to walk from the place Demetria lives at with no forms of transportation to get me here faster.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s fine, I’m used to not having a home to go to...and I traveled with a strange homeless woman on the way here. She had some money, and it wasn’t so bad...I found some charcoal on the ground and rubbed it around my eyes because I lacked makeup. I wanted to make myself presentable.”

“About that: I think you should shower. I’m sure you’ll look fine, either way, but that can’t be good to keep on your face for who knows how long in such warm weather as this,” I advised.

“Warm? Is that so? My, the temperature is quite temperamental. I didn’t get the same treatment on the way here. I wish I layered up more…”

“Well, you had a long walk to get here. I’m sure sleeping outside didn’t help much.”

“Oh. I. Actually, I, sorta slept at a hotel a couple of times. There’s one on the highway near here. The receptionist even called me darling.”

“Really? Why didn’t she call you by name?” Juniper gave Rachel a suspicious look.

“It’s okay! Really! I’ve always wanted to be pampered.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. We don’t really do much of that here,” she shook her head.

What? Since when? Don’t you pamper me all the time, Juni? Why are you saying such things to our guest?

“I’m fine with that. I’ll be in your care as long as you allow me.”

“Sure. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, ‘Rachel’,” she emphasized her name as if she were saying it in quotes. I side-eyed Juniper, but she didn’t give me any sort of indication what was going on.

“Yeah, we’re pretty easygoing people. Kind of boring, really,” I added.

“I can see that,” Rachel replied before walking inside.

I felt like a vein was about to pop. What the hell? Only I was allowed to say that we were boring. Who was this stranger to…

...Rachel walked over to the couch in the living room and laid down with the blanket drawn over her. Like she didn’t need an invitation and just went for it.

As Juniper closed the door behind her, she turned to me and whispered.

“She seems like the kind of person who gave me a hard time in a past life,” she said, quiet enough that Rachel couldn’t hear.

“What? What does that mean?” I whispered back.

“That’s just the vibe I get. You’re free to see her however you like.”

I must have had several question marks surrounding my face as Juniper walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mango.

What happened to the Juniper who smiled at everyone and was, perhaps to some, unbearably kind?

“You want a mango, Rachel?” Juniper asked. It was definitely closer to the Juniper I knew, even if her tone wasn’t quite the friendly one she usually had.

“Huh? Sure,” Rachel replied without looking over.

Juniper wound her arm back as if the mango was a baseball and she was about to toss it to the pitcher. Except Rachel didn’t have a bat.

Is she seriously thinking of hitting her in the face?! My jaw dropped.

Instead, she changed form and gave a light, underhanded toss in Rachel’s direction. To my surprise (and relief), Rachel caught it in one hand without even looking Juniper’s way.

Well, at least she’s a good catch.

I watched as Rachel took a bite into the mango, skin and all, as if it were an apple.

“So, how did you and Demetria meet?” I asked Rachel.

“If possible, I’d like to pretend I never met Demetria. Thank you for understanding,” Rachel said and waved her hand aside.

All that statement did was make me wish to ask more questions.

“I can tell you, however, how I fell under these hard times,” she said instead.

“Oh?” I dropped to the floor and sat with keen interest.

“Do you remember three years ago?”

One of the best and worst years of my life. So much chaos, in both the good, bad, and neutral sense of the word.

Of course, I didn’t tell her those superfluous things.

“You mean 2017?” I confirmed. It was taboo in some places to state what year it was, unless you had to write the date on a document. Often, in conversation, it was more wise to state ‘current year’. But all you had to do was say what year it was a certain amount of years ago, and it was clear what year it currently was.

“Oh yeah, remember the summer, hun?” Juniper chimed in. Soon, she sat down beside me. She even wrapped her arms around me from the side for good measure.

“I’d rather forget…” I groaned and looked off to the side.

“Why, what happened then?” Rachel asked. Oh, dear. I really didn’t want to get a stranger involved in one of my sob stories.

“Don’t you know already?” Juniper asked. That question struck me as a bit odd, but Rachel was the one who brought up three years ago first.

“Well, I know what happened to me then, but I’d like to hear about you first.”

There’s no getting out of this, is there? At least I won’t be expected to talk about the more out of this world stuff, right?

Luckily, Juniper was there to rescue me:

“Summer was when Ves here started working on her mental health! I’m very proud of the steps she’s taken. We weren’t always the picture perfect couple, y’know?”

“We weren’t?!” I balked.

Aw, who am I kidding? That cosmic possession thing did cause quite a strain.

“Well,” I huffed, “it was also the time when my mental health was at my lowest.”

“Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to climb to the top, dear,” she stroked my back and made me feel like a horse that just won first prize at a race.

“Hmph. That’s right. I did do a lot of climbing, didn’t I?” A sudden surge of pride washed over me. Juniper sure had a way of making me feel triumphant.

“I’m glad to hear you overcame whatever obstacles you seem to have had. I even remember congratulating you over the phone,” Rachel pantomimed holding a phone up to her ear.

“Yes. What was that about?” I asked.

“It’s just the feeling I got from you. It sounded like you were in a better place than you once were, but still troubled by the past. Am I incorrect?”

I shook my head.

“You’re correct. I can never fully get over things, even when I say I have. I still struggle with certain things which haunt me, but I’ve been able to manage myself much better than I used to in the past.”

I looked over at Juniper for approval, as if I needed to prove that my words were sincere enough. She gave me a light peck on the cheek. That was all the approval I needed.

“So what about you?” I asked. “What was significant about three years ago?”

“Well, funny enough, you could say that was when my life ended,” she chuckled.

I don’t know why, but that struck a chord with me. Not so much a nerve, as I still had a few of those stockpiled.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, you see, I used to be an underground boxer. It’s not so glamorous, as I didn’t have a full stadium out in the open, and there were less rules than a professional boxing tournament. It also meant it was more risky. That said, I made big bucks, I had my own manager, and I was quite famous in the underground circles. They called me Rachel ‘Frigid Fists’ Flores.”

“That’s a lame stage name,” Juniper sneered.

“What?! No way! It’s totally cool!” Rachel grew defensive. “You think so, right, Ves?”

“I don’t know anything about boxing, sorry,” I lied. I knew some things. Like gloves were involved. And people got knocked out sometimes.”

“Needless to say,” Rachel continued, “I fell into a coma.”

“I feel like we’re missing some steps here…” Juniper scratched her chin.

“Well, she probably got knocked out,” I suggested.

“You’d think so, huh? But nah, whenever someone got knocked out in battle, it usually didn’t last long. At worst, you’d lose a few brain cells, but if brain cells are so fragile that being knocked out will make you lose some, I’m inclined to blame the fragility of the human body and not the result of a boxing match.”

“So what happened, then?”

“Before I get to that, I have to explain that I never really got knocked out. I was locked into an abusive contract, pulled in many places, forced to train when time would have been better spent resting. But as long as I continued to win matches, I’d keep making money and have a roof over my head. My manager would remind me things like, ‘you don’t have a family or a home to go to. I picked you off the streets when no one else would take you in and I recognized your talent. I can always put you back on the streets.’ So yeah, despite knowing how bad my contract was and how lonely my existence was, there was incentive to keep winning matches.”

“Quite the pickle,” I sympathized.

“More like a situation, actually. I don’t know what cucumbers have to do with boxing. Anyway, I had a sense of purpose, I kept my manager happy, and I didn’t have any other skills that would make me appealing to society. Of course I’d want to keep winning matches, right? Well, as I said, I didn’t have other skills and I was quite limited on where I could go and what I could do. Eventually, I reached a breaking point. Something of an ultimatum: I can either keep at this until they forcibly retire me and kick me out to who knows where or I can upend my life right away.”

“So what did you do?”

“During one of my matches, I lost on purpose. I goaded my opponent into getting more and more aggressive by insulting her with the worst things I could think of while I stayed on the defensive and only made light jabs. She knew I was good. More than that, I knew she lacked form, but in matches like these, all you needed was a quick strike, which is exactly what I got out of her. When I fell to the floor, I stayed there, pretending like I was knocked out even though that was far from the truth. I let the countdown reach ten and…”

“You fell into a coma?” I finished for her.

“No. How does that make any sense? There’s a sequence of events, and there needs to be a cause and effect. We haven’t yet gotten to the cause, but the build up is essential.”

“Oh, all right,” I puffed my cheeks.

“So my manager could tell what stunt I pulled. I was promptly kicked. I was allowed to pocket some of the money I had earned through the years, but much of it went seized, leaving me with a considerate amount in terms of pocket change, but not enough to house myself. Luckily for me, the silver lining came in the form of a knife,” she made little stabbing gestures in the air.

“What I mean is that I got stabbed right after getting kicked out. I lost consciousness and I was rushed into the hospital. But despite surviving, I remained in a comatose state. When I awoke, which wasn’t even too long ago, I learned that my former manager had paid my hospital bills in an uncharacteristically kind gesture. That said, I had to undergo much treatment to get me back on my feet, and I had lost contact with anyone I once knew so long ago.”

“Wow, that’s so harsh,” I couldn’t believe the kind of life Rachel had. It must not have been easy. Seeing as once, I spent a considerable time on the run, and a considerable time after searching for answers, I could relate in some ways. Maybe my experiences were closer to the realms of fantasy, but that was neither here nor there.

Juniper shot her hand up.

“I just wanna know...why do you feel the need to lie?” Juniper asked.

When I say I almost gasped...well, thank goodness I didn’t, because that would be unladylike of me.

“Because sitting up is too much of a chore,” Rachel shrugged as if she wasn’t handed a huge accusation on a silver platter. I still wasn’t sure what the accusation was, because none of what Rachel said sounded like a lie. It all sounded like it came from the heart.

“If that’s the case, why the couch? There’s a guest room with a bed for you. And if you don’t mind sharing, you’re always free to lie in bed with Ves and I.”

“L-Lie in bed with Juniper? I can do that? I mean, I’ve thought about it. Maybe in my wildest fantasies. Maybe some not so wild. But here? Now? Is this true?” Rachel sat up and began fidgeting her hands together.

“Of course. All you have to do is be honest with us.”

“What are you doing, hun? She’s not the enemy,” I whispered to my love.

“I know she’s not. Maybe if we had met a few years ago, she might have been one. But here, she’s a potential dear friend. I just want her to be honest with herself, and with us,” she whispered back.

“About what?!”

“Hey Rachel. While you were up in the arctic with Demetria, did you meet Remora?” Juniper asked.

How is that relevant to anything?

Whatever I expected from Rachel next, what I wasn’t expecting was for a smile to spread across her lips and her voice to become much softer, in a sort of casual way.

“Yeah. Strange woman, isn’t she?” Her words flowed like they were blown from the wind. “I was, after all, sitting across from her when Demetria told you about me, and when you talked to Remora.”

I froze. Almost as if I was in the tundra, myself.

So when I said all those things about grief, Rachel was there. She heard all these things…

“So that’s how you knew to say all those things to comfort me,” I realized.

“Ahaha, you caught me. Sorry, eavesdropping, force of habit.”

“Did...did you ever lose someone close to you?” I asked.

Rachel shook her head, still smiling.

“I can’t lose what I never had to begin with. The closest I came to was when I met someone I wanted to get close to, but I lost that chance when I ‘fell asleep’, so to speak. I guess that’s a loss, but it’s really more my loss than anything.”

“Would you ever wish to see them again?”

Rachel leaned in close and her hands moved under her chin. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, and her smile lowered just a touch.

“I can barely remember a single thing about them. If I recall, I didn’t know them for very long, either. As far as I’m concerned, this is my second chance at life, and I’m just hoping I can make memories with this one.”

“I hope so too,” I smiled back at her.

We didn’t linger too long in the living room. Yes, introductions could be quite the chore at times, yet they were also necessary. Or at least, I thought so. Speaking of introductions, there was still the tour we had yet to get to.

First off, Juniper and I showed her to the guest room. Her response?

“No, thanks. The couch is enough for me.”

Oh well. I was sure she in her troubled mind must have thought something like, “I don’t deserve a bed right now” as that was once a thought I had. But I knew it would only be a matter of time before she was no longer able to resist the allure of a soft bed.

We went outside and I showed her the garden, the vineyard, and the farm. She yawned at each display. She didn’t even seem impressed when I showed off my greenhouse and my hydroponics.

Oh well. Everyone’s a critic.

Next, Juniper pointed way off in the distance to a small wood barn. That barn, of course, housed the chickens and had lots of hay and wheat for them to sit upon and roost.

“What a load of cocks,” Rachel remarked.

“Actually, they’re all hens,” Juniper corrected.

“What’s the difference?”

“Cocks are roosters.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” I waved my hand and groaned, “they’re all chickens.”

“Yes,” Juniper nodded, “and if you want to win their affection, you must know all of their names. There’s Molly, Bruno, Bagel, Okapia, Okra, Okakoro, Onomatopoeia, Priscilla, and Doodle.”

She pointed to each one and some of the chickens looked over at Juniper. They were more hers than mine, as I mainly gathered the eggs every now and then. It was her compromise that if we were to live in a remote area, that we should at least have chickens. There was no way I could argue with her about that.

“Is this really necessary? And what’s with some of those names?” Rachel asked.

“Yes. It’s all necessary. Some won’t let you feed them or clean their plumage or take their eggs unless you address them by name.”

“Will they bite?”

“Some will. You’ll just have to endure it.”

“This world sure is harsh,” Rachel observed.

The last stop on the tour was Juniper’s workshop: a place where she invented all sorts of silly little gadgets and contraptions.

“Wow,” Rachel mouthed as she stared up in admiration at the garage where Juniper did her tinkering. She didn’t even look in and see any gadgets, but it was like she didn’t need to know what went on in there and just the simple fact that it existed was enough for her.

We soon finished our tour.

We had deviled eggs for supper, something which seemed to delight Rachel as she shoved several eggs in her mouth.

I’ll have to take note that she likes protein. Maybe I can grow some beans for her.

When she decided enough was enough, she patted her belly.

Both Juniper and I laughed, and when we did so, Rachel’s eyes shifted between us and began to shiver.

When it came time for Juniper and I to sleep, we took our leave to the bedroom while Rachel stayed out in the living room.

I preferred to sleep not long after dusk, as I was a simple woman. Of course, Juniper and I had sex nearly every night, which did keep us both awake a little longer, but also helped us to sleep at the same time.

Even when she was satisfied after a passionate bout of lovemaking and I was well past asleep, she had a tendency to still have plenty of energy and stay awake, absorbed in other tasks.

Sometimes I would wake up and see her with a book (she preferred non-fiction, and instruction manuals on how to build various things) and a dim light on the table next to her end of the bed. Other times, she would go out into the living room and watch TV, or play video games on the PC that rested in the corner of the room. That wasn’t even taking into account how sometimes she’d go out into her workshop and pull an all-nighter.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up that night, either, and find she was awake and absorbed in some task.

Juniper the busybody. Juniper the handyman. Juniper the workaholic. Juniper the carefree.

Then there was me: one who would have been content to lay in a field of flowers and meditate. To wake at sunrise and sleep at sunset. To seek out the nearest source of calm and bask in it.

However, I couldn’t sleep that night.

Well, I did, but it didn’t last as my eyes shot open into the darkness.

I checked my phone: just a little past 1 AM.

Now why am I awake? I wondered. There were no signs from outside save for the noisy crickets. I turned over, as I expected the other end of the bed to be empty. However, there Juniper was, lying to her side, hugging a giant shark plush toy.

I poked her bare back and traced my fingers against her shoulder blade. She shivered, and I let out a silent laugh.

I should be careful not to wake her, I thought. I kissed the back of her neck, soft enough so as not to wake her.

Just outside the room, I saw a faint, orange glow coming from the living room.

Huh. I was sure the lights were off.

Despite the excitement earlier, I had a lapse in judgment where I forgot that we had a third person living with us now.

If Juniper is next to me, and the light is on…

I considered that maybe Juniper had been up earlier, decided to watch TV, and then went back to bed and forgot to turn the light off in the living room. I don’t know why I considered that, given Juniper wasn’t one to leave lights on, but here we were.

I pulled the covers off of me. I didn’t care that I was in nothing but my underwear (I can’t sleep wholly in the nude, or I’ll get cold), as I didn’t think anyone was out there. That said, I had enough sense to put up my fluffy nightgown with little pictures of sheep (I’m not sure if the nightgown was made of wool or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was) printed on it.

When I entered the living room, I saw a large and imposing figure in a dark jacket with a blanket over them seated on the couch and shivering the whole while. I jumped in place, startled by the sight, before realizing just who it was.

“Rachel?” I asked.

The previous events of the day began to return to the forefront of my mind.

Rachel looked over and smiled, the warm glow from the lamp illuminating her face.

“Can’t sleep, princess?” She asked with a voice that was both soft and sneering.

I shook my head as if I had just sniffed a pile of ghost peppers and reeling back from the scent.

“I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I said. I wasn’t sure if that was true or not. Since being awake, I haven’t explored my thoughts all that much. Some would say it’s important to explore such things, but in my experience, that’s a surefire way to keep one awake.

“Ah. The mind is a terrible thing, isn’t it?”

“Heh...hey, why do you call me ‘princess’, anyway?”

“Maybe it’s because you seem spoiled like one. Or rather, I don’t think anyone could look at you and not want to spoil you, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Complinsult, perhaps? In any case, it’s just the fact of the matter: you’re like a cute kitten or puppy who needs lots of pampering and attention.”

“Uh, thanks?”

She continued to shiver and rub her hands together while pressing the blanket tighter over her.

“Cold?” I asked.

“Don’t mind me.”

I walked over beside the couch and sat down.

“Sorry, we don’t really have central heating or cooling. Typically, it’s warm in the daytime and cool in the evening up through dawn until midday. We just figured nature knew best.”

“That must be why you have all these wires and electronics,” Rachel gestured to the lamp and the TV.

“Ah. Well, we’re not completely cut off from modern conveniences, nor are we ‘off the grid’, so to speak. I just wanted to leave the city behind, and Juniper was happy enough to support me in that dream. In her own words, ‘it gives me a chance to try new things.’ We’re also not completely cut off from the woes of money. All you see here Juniper had to save up to build. Even now, I’ll sell any extra crops to farmer’s markets, and she’ll sell her little inventions. We’ve been able to take in a modest amount. We’re not looking to make ourselves rich, and most of the time the money goes toward upkeep on the house, or buying any food we don’t already grow at the nearest grocery store.”

Noticing I had talked a lot, I stopped myself and looked up: Rachel had on a serious expression.

“Sorry, I must have bored you!”

“No, not at all. I’m interested in your life.”

“Ha…” It made me a little warm hearing that.

“But what about you?” I asked, “I’d like to know more about you.”

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” she said with an utter indifference that it cut right through me.

“That can’t be true! There has to be something!” I protested. “I mean, everyone has something interesting about them! Everyone’s got a story to tell!”

Rachel put a finger to her lips.

“Careful, you’ll wake the missus.”

“Oh, sorry. I tend to get a little emotional.”

“I know. If it will sate your curiosity just a bit…” Rachel shimmied out of her jacket, then slipped off her t-shirt.

Although I too was topless (save for the nightgown), I was reminded of the time Demetria was over and she remarked at me being topless with, “it’s a tits out kind of morning.” Despite how things ended up with her, that was a rather fond memory in hindsight.

However, with Rachel not having a care in the world (I mean, I never even got around the explaining to her that Juniper and I both had a tendency to walk in the nude around the house when it’s just us), I saw scars all across her torso and her back.

Small scars, little cuts which have turned tender, to large ones, like slashes against her chest, and a long slash across her stomach. Under her right breast, there were burn marks which extended to part of her back. Along her back were several more scars and cut marks.

“Not a pretty sight, is it?” She asked rhetorically.

“That’s not it, I was just surprised. You actually have a nice figure,” I remarked, and it was true – she had hardened, chiseled abs, large arms, broad shoulders, and her breasts were petite and sagged a little. They were rather cute.

“Thanks, but we both know this isn’t a beauty pageant.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Would you like to touch them?” She offered with a chuckle.

It felt wrong, but I couldn’t resist the temptation as I reached out for the scar across her stomach and felt the pink, tender flesh. She shook as I felt along her scar. She let out a hoarse, but faint sigh as she shivered.

“Sorry I’m a little ticklish,” she said. I looked up and met her gaze. My face turned bright red as I hurried to back away.

“So how did you get those scars?” I asked, even though I figured the answer would be the same as how she got her muscles: she was a (somewhat) professional fighter.

“Fights, mostly. But not just inside of the ring. I’ve been in fights, and other dangerous situations, throughout my life. I can’t begin to tell you all the wounds I’ve had or how I’ve acquired them all. They say every scar tells a story, but most of mine are far too boring to tell. All except for the slash across my stomach.”

“What’s interesting with that one?”

“That was the scar which ended my old life and gave me the life I have now. It’s the scar I’m most fond of,” she explained with a smile.

I felt a chill down my spine. I couldn’t really explain why, yet it felt familiar. She felt familiar.

No, what am I doing? I thought.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing,” I replied. And surely, if something was wrong, I couldn’t identify it.

“Does what I say bother you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. I don’t wish to trouble you, princess. Most of my past life, I would rather forget. The cause of my scar, however, holds a special place in my memories. I hope you know that I wouldn’t show this scar to anyone but you and Juniper.”

“Why us?”

“Because I feel a connection to you two. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not. If anything, I’m glad you feel comfortable sharing that with me.”

I stood up and motioned back toward the bedroom. Rachel shimmied back into her shirt and jacket.

“I should go back to bed…” I gestured to the bedroom door. “Sleep well, Rachel.”

“Oh, I never get much sleep, but goodnight to you,” she replied.

That too was strange. Or maybe it wasn’t. Really, nothing strange has happened since she got here. It must have just been me feeling strange about the new addition to our household.

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I stayed in bed for a while, with my thoughts running through my mind:

I know what this is, but I told myself I would be over it. I’m not going to make that same mistake with Rachel, or anyone else, for that matter. No matter what similarities or coincidences arise, I can’t be comparing others to her. She’s gone. I know this.

There is no “second chance.” I need to do right by Rachel, not because of the past, but because Rachel is Rachel.

A couple of days have passed since Rachel entered our lives.

It seemed a fine enough adjustment; she helped out around the house, swept up when asked, and even watered the crops outside without being asked to. That last part worried me, because if she gave the crops too much water, that would have been overkill.

“You know what job you would be good at? Being a scarecrow!” Juniper joked. Rachel didn’t seem so amused.

“There’s only so long that my arms can hold a T-pose,” Rachel replied.

I had to agree: I preferred it when she moved around than when she stayed still. Which brings me to what she did when she didn’t do boring chore-like things: which is to say, nothing. Or rather, she sat in the living room. Either on the couch or on the floor next to the couch.

“Rachel, can you wipe off the crumbs you left on the table after you ate that peanut butter and zucchini sandwich?” I asked. “Oh, and when you get the chance, can you go feed the chickens?”

“Rachel this, Rachel that,” the suspect in question grumbled, “I swear, this woman will be the death of me.”

We were only three days in and already having problems? Did she think of me as nagging? But I just asked for her to do so. She doesn’t even have to.

“Please don’t say that,” Juniper scolded, “Ves actually went through a tough time and jokes like that don’t really help.”

“Oh really? I wonder what that tough time was,” Rachel remarked.

“I think it would be better if Ves told you herself, and only if she feels comfortable enough to do so. Please don’t force anything out of her.”

I smiled. Good on Juniper for sticking up for me. Not that I needed much defending, but it was nice to know that when push came to shove, she had my back.

Even if she groaned about it, she ended up cleaning the table, though she declined on feeding the chickens, as in her own words, “they’re too scary.”

There were other points of contention, however, like the fact that she took super long showers. And when confronted about it, she would say, “it’s not my fault the water was cold when I got in and wouldn’t heat up.” I’d end up turning on the faucet, with the dial set all the way to ‘H’ and cry out in pain when I was scalded by the scorching hot water.

Or how sometimes she’d knock on the bedroom door, waking both Juniper and I up, and asking, “you’re not using your blanket, are you? I’d like another.” When I got up and noticed that she had not only the blanket from the couch, but also the ones from the guest room, I was a little concerned.

But I wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry, but Juniper and I need our blanket to rest. If you’re bothered that much, maybe you can layer up more,” I suggested.

“Good idea. Can I wear your guys’ clothes since you’re not wearing any?”

“No. There’s plenty of clothes in the guest room.”

“I’m mad,” Juniper said in a sleepy voice. It was clear she was sleep talking. Both Rachel and I looked toward her.

“So cute,” Rachel said.

“I know,” I agreed, before I snapped out of the admiration to go right back to the matter at hand. “Anyway, figure something out. I need sleep.”

Needless to say, I was getting stressed and wondering if Rachel really wanted to be here. At any point, I expected her to up and disappear without a single word as to where she was going. I don’t know, it was just the vibe I got from her.

Also, needless to say, because I was getting stressed, I turned to my good friend, Ms. Bong.

It was the middle of the day, four days into Rachel living here. I was in the middle of the bedroom, sat down with my legs spread and the bong between my legs. Juniper was in the middle of her workshop, out in the middle of the fields. You know, I hadn’t even taken my first hit, but wasn’t it strange all these ‘middles’ we keep having?

In fact, I only managed a single hit by the time Rachel stopped in the middle of the doorway.

“Interesting. What is that?” She asked.

I stared up. I was far from high. Far from anything, really.

“It’s a bong. I’m gonna get stoned off my tits, because you’ve been stressing me the fuck out,” I retorted. It felt way too biting and passive-aggressive, but she didn’t look startled or offended at all.

“Oh, drugs. So this is how you cope with stress,” she noted. I felt like I was being studied under a microscope.

I got up to confront her.

“Now wait just a second! There is nothing wrong with getting high to relieve stress or anxiety!”

“I never said there was. There’s no need to get defensive. Or are you insecure about your coping mechanism?”

“No. I’m not insecure at all. About anything. I’m very mentally sound, I’ll have you know.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re taking care of your mental health.”

She walked away. I felt like she had just won an argument and I opened my mouth to fire back with my own venomous words, but nothing of substance would come out. I just stood in the doorway confused.

Just who are you, Rachel, and why do you feel so familiar yet fill me with dread?

#remoras full #slice of life #writing #stories #drama #vesuvius #juniper #rhea flection #rachel flores

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bluepenguinstories · 2 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter LXXIII: Barkdust

I seldom worried about how I acted or what made up who I was. It was fun to think about it. Interesting, even. That is, if I ever wished to think about it. But I never did.

It didn’t worry me whether I was too kind or not kind enough, or whether I was my “best self” (whatever that could ever look like). No, as long as I acted in a manner which felt right to me, I had no need to think or worry about such things.

That said, I did worry about others. More specifically, my wife, Vesuvius (more commonly known as Ves, or sometimes referred to as ‘hothead’), and our newest guest, Rachel.

Who was Rachel?

Someone who shivered often, complained of being cold, had a mysterious past, and a soft voice. She was tall, muscular, short haired, and lazy. She alternated between nervous fidgeting and a stone-faced seriousness. Sometimes, she would sneer with her soft voice, and a snide tone would take over. Other times, when she was serious, her voice would lower and become deeper and richer.

There were many quirks and oddities to dissect, but none of those really mattered. When you were reading that description, you may have thought something like: “gee, doesn’t that all sound familiar? Almost as if…”

Yes. You would be correct. Or rather, I would be correct. Or Ves would be correct, if she were to connect the dots.

Sorry. I shouldn’t even blame her so much. I know why she’s been treating things as normal. I should too, right? Rachel was Rachel, after all. It didn’t matter what other names she may have had in the past. If they both wished to move on, I should respect that…

...is what I would say if “Rachel” wasn’t dropping hints left and right for Ves to pick up like it was some identity-based scavenger hunt.

That she was being so coy led me to believe, too, that it was indeed her and not Remora, nor some other perfectly coincidental stranger. Of course, by ‘her’, I meant...well, you know. I shouldn’t have to say it.

“Hey Rachel,” I greeted while she was out in the humid heat of late spring weather, with the perfect cloudy day and almost scorching levels of heat. She had been trimming some of the branches of shrubbery around the garden (Ves put her up to the task, and she must have decided she had nothing better to do, because she agreed to it). She wore no gloves, and didn’t seem to mind such things as blisters, bruises, or the like. As I approached her, she shivered and her motions with the trimmer was unsteady at best.

“Brr…” She muttered, before turning around to greet me, “hey...uh...Juniper. Have you come to share some of your body heat with me?”

“Do you really think I would do that?” I shook my head.

“No,” she hung her head low and her movements turned more steady, as she concentrated on trimming, “I know you’re faithful to your wife. I shouldn’t joke like that. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it,” I crossed my arms, “as it so happens, I am quite warm already, and if I were to press myself against you, I might overheat.”

“Ah, that’s true. You are hot. That is a fact. But I’m cold, so maybe if we…”

“Have you noticed that you’re sweating?” I pointed out. She wore a thick, red puffy jacket and a brown stocking cap. From under the cap, sweat ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t wipe it off or anything, and just let it drip off her chin as she worked.

“Ah. This must be thermal equilibrium, don’t you think? I have heard that sweat is the body’s way of cooling itself. Thermal equilibrium. That is also why I offered for you to press yourself against me, as it would benefit both of us. I would warm up, and you would cool. Of course, I may have ulterior motives, as one with such a request tends to have. That said, I wonder, then, why one’s body may also break out into cold sweats. Do you know?”

“I don’t. My brother’s a doctor, though. He might know.”

“Right. You have a brother. You may have mentioned that before.”

“I haven’t,” I almost felt like smirking, as those two words should have been enough to catch her in a trap.

“You haven’t? That’s fine as well. Maybe you just strike me as the type to have a brother. Does that make sense?”

I was dumbfounded. That weasel. That arctic weasel. That East Siberian Stoat (the only arctic weasel I was familiar with).

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t,” I replied in the most exhausted tone I could muster. “Do you need a towel or something? How about some water? I don’t want you to dehydrate or pass out in the sun. Neither of those sound pleasant.”

“Is that a risk?” She asked.

“One cannot be too cautious out in nature.”

Rachel bent down set down the trimmer on the soft soil beside the shrub. As she stood back up, she let out a soft sigh.

“I get it,” her voice darkened. In a strange sense, it was the tone of voice of hers that I loved the most. It wasn’t that I thought her serious tone was more ‘true’ than her nervous or joking tone, but rather that when she switched to that tone, it seemed like she was in control of whatever situation she happened to be in.

“You’re thinking how it’s all in my head, aren’t you?” She continued.

I shook my head.

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking that. It’s a sunny day. I’m sweating. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together, and while it’s true that a day can be sunny without necessitating warmth, I’m inclined to believe you when you say you’re quite warm already. You are Juniper, after all, someone who has no reason to lie.”

She faced me with stiff expression; creased brow, straight lips, and an intense glare. I no longer noticed her shivering, but if I had a better grasp of myself, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that I was the one shivering. At that moment, too, even if I was shivering (quivering or quaking, more like), I felt a certain warmth spread through my legs, and it became clear that I was facing the other way Rachel could be ‘cold’: her demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed out.

“Why? You were trying to help. You have done nothing wrong. I am aware that my condition is most likely psychological. Either through anxiety or some other reason I cannot fathom. In fact, I cannot fathom why I would have any psychological conditions, either, but here we are. That said, I cannot simply ‘turn off’ this condition, and it still feels just as real to me as you the warm temperature must feel to you.”

“O-Of course.”

“But since you offered, yes, I would like some water. With ice, please. I find water with ice tends to warm me up, even just a little. A towel, too, would be nice. Since you offered. Please.”

“Right away, ma’am!” I blurted before running off, my heart racing alongside me.

Once back inside, I ran over to the sink and splashed water over my face.

Why am I letting her get to me? I thought, I’m the one who should be in control. I tamed Ves, after all, so there’s no reason why I can’t tame Rachel, too.

Maybe ‘tame’ was the wrong word, but I ask: did it really matter what the right word was?

When it comes to the woman Ves claimed to have moved on from, my own thoughts on her are rather threadbare. What I mean is, we met during the incident three years ago, and the sum total of my interactions with her probably amounted to 15 minutes at most. Compare that with the two or three days Ves knew her for and it’s really no wonder why Ves feels a closer connection with her while for me it was just a matter of ‘oh yeah, the weird stalker lady. I remember her.’

Pair that with the fact that Ves never had difficulty forming connections or bonds with others. She’d disagree, of course, and even say something like, “but Juniper’s much nicer, who wouldn’t like Juniper at first sight?’

I wouldn’t disagree that my wife could be a real asshole sometimes, but she also had a habit of underselling her own kindness. And sure, she had poor posture, often gazed down with a sullen expression, and tends to be cautious and avoid eye contact around new people. Just a few of the hallmarks that would make forming connections difficult.

Yet I bet if she were to walk into a public library, she’d walk out with five new friends made. Meanwhile, I just go into a library, check out a how-to manual, and walk out with knowledge in my hand. Sure, I can be friendly with anyone who talks to me first but I don’t think I have this aura about me that makes people want to come up to me. I don’t just get strangers going “hey Juniper, can I have your autograph?” Well, truth be told, that’s never happened with Ves, either. Oh, jeez. What was I going on about again?

Ah. Right. The ghost. The thing that won’t leave. Capital ‘R’.

My assessment of you-know-who was that she was troubled and lonely. I get that it was never in the cards for us to be friends, given what role she played in our lives, even though I would have accepted her were it an option. I’m sure that’s what Ves would rather have happened as well.

Still, that final scene, on that rooftop…

To say she didn’t leave an impression on me would have been a lie. But given the lack of screen time between us compared to the screen time that Ves and her shared coupled with the fact that I was dealing with a minor case of possession, meant that it was never going to be a strong impression. My memories of the time are intact, but just a little hazy when it comes to the details.

I just remember Ves going off to fight her on a rooftop. I was concerned, so ran into the skyscraper they were fighting atop and raced up the stairs. I remember shoving past office workers and security guards alike.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” One demanded.

I can’t recall what I said, but I remember it not being a hassle to get past them.

Even still, there were several flights, and I wasn’t exactly ‘in shape,’ so it comes at no surprise that it took me several minutes to get up there, and by the time I did, the fight was already finished.

Ves was upset, in a panic and trying to keep our tormentor alive. But for me, seeing the face of the one lying down and bleeding out, all I thought was:

She looks satisfied. She must be at peace.

I truly must have thought that her dying was what she wanted. If I was a little more rational (or maybe less rational, and a little more human) I would have tried to keep her alive as well. But given my condition at the time, I didn’t see it right to interfere.

No, there was more to that as well.

It wasn’t just “she seems happy. Let’s let her rest in peace.”

Perhaps in a cruel sense, I felt relief.

Relief for Ves and I. The kind of relief where you just finished a making a toy robot and it didn’t fall apart as soon as you picked it up. Or the kind of relief where you just got done with a chore that you’ve been putting off and now you can use that chore as an excuse to relax for the rest of the day.

Yes. Just like that.

The ordeal was behind us. Our lives could go back to normal. Maybe it would take time for us to heal, but at least we would no longer have to worry about being pursued any longer.

Ah, if only things worked that way.

With the faucet still on, I got the red hand towel wet, then grabbed a glass from the nearest cupboard, tossed in some ice from the freezer, and filled the glass with water. Now all I had to do was deliver the goods.

As I turned to walk out of the kitchen, I heard the front door swing open and slam into the wall. I ran out and saw Rachel standing in the doorway.

“Your...your towel!” I blurted out and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand.

She wrapped it around the back of her neck, then grinned.

“Thanks! I figured I did about all I could with those shrubs, so now I’m back inside,” she explained, and without hesitation, snatched the glass of water out of my hand and chugged it down. It only took a few gulps for that thing to go empty and the ice to jingle around. As if triumphant in her drink, she let out a mighty belch.

“Right. Excuse you, then,” I muttered.

“Sorry. I’ve never been very good with manners. On that note, may I please get a refill? For some reason, I get thirsty standing next to you.”

“Then maybe you should take a step back?” I suggested.

“I don’t think that will help much. See, I also get thirsty thinking about you.”

“Think about other things.”

“Oh, believe me, I try. Somehow my thoughts always return to you.”

“Just like you returned,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, ha ha!” I scratched my pigtails and laughed.

Rachel shrugged and walked past me. I turned and watched as she poured herself another glass of water and chugged it down again.

At least she was acclimating well. That was important, right?

Ves walked out from the bedroom and yawned. She just woke up from an afternoon nap, that scamp. I knew the routine: whenever Ves woke up from an afternoon nap, the first thing she did was go into the kitchen and grab a pear. Since we didn’t have a pear tree, it was up to me to buy pears from the grocery store and keep us well stocked.

As she approached the kitchen, Ves caught sight of Rachel and I caught sight of both of them staring into each other’s eyes. It was quite creepy, especially as Rachel broke the gaze to stare into my eyes. Like, pick someone’s attention to focus on and stick with them!

“Hey Rachel. I’ve been giving it some thought, and while I’m still going to get high sometimes just for the hell of it, would you be okay if I confided in you from time to time?” Ves asked.

“Sure. As long as you don’t expect me to listen,” Rachel shrugged.

My jaw ought to have dropped, but it didn’t. I held it in place. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold it together for long, and soon it came tumbling down, along with a flood of shock:

“What?! But you usually confide stuff with me!”

Ves and Rachel both turned and stared in my directions. My fists were balled up and my face turned into a ripe tomato. Sure, it may have been out of character for me, but I’d argue Ves hasn’t been in character since Rachel showed up.

“Hun, I’ll still come to you. It just helps having another person to talk to sometimes. Especially as I’m no longer seeing a therapist and I don’t have any other friends.”

“Haa…” I sighed and wiped away a tear from my eye, “sorry. I guess I just got worked up.”

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. It’s just that...I don’t know…” It wasn’t like me not to say how I was feeling. Doubly so that I was jealous. I couldn’t believe it. I was acting like a baby. Me. When usually I was so composed and friendly, and instead I was reduced to…

A warm sensation reached my cheek. I glanced over and saw Ves’s palm on my cheek. She used her index finger to stroke along near my ear.

I closed my eyes and purred while smiling.

It was like our personalities had swapped, and I was panicking over the littlest of things and getting jealous and losing my cool. But if our personalities had swapped, that just meant she was there to ease me back into a peaceful state.

“This is a big adjustment for me too. I know we can get through this. We’re both strong, aren’t we?” Ves asked in a soothing voice.

I nodded and felt weak. She really didn’t have to do much to please me.

“Right. This is awkward. You two are having a moment. I’m going to my room,” Rachel announced and the shock made the two of us break away and take a step back.

We watched Rachel walk into the guest room, something she hadn’t done since arriving here. Well, at least we had some semblance of privacy again.

“Hehe, sorry. Guess I’ve been stressing more than I thought I would. It’s not like we haven’t had guests, even surprise guests before.”

“It’s okay,” Ves reassured me, “this guest seems different somehow, wouldn’t you say? I suppose we’ve both not been ourselves.”

“Yeah…”

“If you ever get too stressed, feel free to take a rip from my bong,” she offered, but I scoffed at such an idea.

“Sorry, I know you enjoy it, and it makes you happy, but I just can’t stand the smell or the taste. Plus I’m not a fan of coughing. I don’t think any of the loopy effects are enough to justify the parts that peeve me,” I explained. “I’ll probably just tinker around in my workshop tonight to relieve stress.”

“Masturbation’s always an option as well,” Ves suggested.

“I much prefer when you get me off. Besides, for me, building things is a form of masturbation.”

We both laughed.

“I guess I can see that. Just like how I feel ecstatic whenever I visit the greenhouse,” Ves added.

As it turns out, I had other plans that night. Plans that didn’t involve tinkering or masturbation of any kind.

No, my plan for the night was a form of sleuthing: detective Juniper, on the case. This time, I was determined to catch Rachel and get her to slip up. No more of this dancing around the issue. I’d have her wrapped around my finger by the time the night was over.

After we made love and Ves passed out, I sat up and read from the current book I was on, ‘Hotwiring Cars For Dummies’. It was quite informative, and once I was done reading it, all that was left to do was apply what I learned in real life. Maybe next time I went to the grocery store…

I took off Ves’s reading glasses and set them on the nightstand. They always made my head hurt when I wore them, but I found it easier to read with them on, so there was that trade-off. After squinting and shaking my head, I slipped on a tie-dye t-shirt from the dresser and slipped on some slippers. I wasn’t actually planning on going outside, but I had to look the part.

(If I was planning on going outside, I would have slipped on a sweater. It gets pretty chilly at night)

As soon as I opened the door, I saw Rachel sat up on the couch, wrapped in several blankets.

“Juniper!” Rachel turned and called out with a grin. Her face lit up so bright I was surprised that alone wasn’t enough to warm her up.

“So excited you can’t sleep, huh?” I asked.

“I hardly ever sleep. I’m just happy to see you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because...you’re Juniper.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I swear, I don’t understand you…”

“I don’t understand, myself,” Rachel looked down and admitted. “I went from being someone who thought she didn’t need anyone around to someone happy to be in the company of you and Ves. It’s like I’m not my old self when I’m around you two, but I also don’t mind this.”

Maybe I’ve been too hard on her, was my initial thought. But then when I remembered just who was saying all that, my thoughts changed to, of course she would say something like that.

“Well, I think it’s important to have human connection. I’m glad we’ve had such an impact on you.”

She raised her head back up. She didn’t so much have a grin, but rather a gentle, almost warm smile.

I think I get what Ves sees in her. No matter how troublesome she is, she’s quite charming as well. Oh, god damn it.

Then, as if hearing my thoughts and wishing to raise the stakes, she sat straight up and the blankets covering her slid off to reveal her topless and covered in scars.

There was no getting around it: she was beautiful. All her scars formed a pretty pattern, and no matter where she got each one, they only served to make her more attractive. I especially like how three of her scars sort of formed what looked like a slanted smiley face. Those were the scars just under her right breast, for the record. Then there were the scars on the left side, near her back, which kind of formed the shape of a giraffe.

To say nothing of her muscles and how cute her small breasts were, aah...I was getting distracted. Ves and I walked around the house topless plenty of times. On certain occasions, we’d even walk around naked. This should have been no big deal.

“Well, when in Rome…” I laughed and slid my shirt off as well.

“I don’t get it. We’re not in Rome.”

“Ves is part Italian, but that’s irrelevant.”

“Then why mention Rome?”

I chuckled.

“You know, you’re a strange one. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s what I like about you,” I wondered if it was just the late night euphoria talking or if I was genuinely happy to be around her.

“You like me?” Rachel asked and I thought I caught a faint hint of a blush.

What did I come out here for again? I asked myself. The atmosphere was intoxicating.

“Of course. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“You really are the real Juniper, aren’t you?” She asked.

I didn’t understand what she meant, but that was just enough to break the spell and refocus my energy on the mission at hand.

“Just as you’re the real you, aren’t you?” I smirked.

“Well, of course…”

“Hey, Rachel. What do you know about assassins?” I asked in a sly voice. But if anything, I imagined myself in an interrogation room with Rachel seated in a chair in the corner and bound with rope.

What kind of fantasies am I having? Sheesh.

"Not much. Historically, I believe the name originates from the Nizari Isma'ili State founded by Hassan-i Sabbah. The people of that state were known as 'hashashin' later referred to as 'assassin'. They were a religious nation formed when Hassan, appalled by the religious oppression at Alamut fortress, devised a plan to seize Alamut from its lord. He and his followers did this by disguising themselves as teachers in the fortress and gaining support from the guards within. By the time all support was in Hassan's favor, they spared the lord of the fortress's life under condition that the lord stepped down. This covert capture was done without the need for violence or loss of life, and more fortress captures were done using the same strategy. Later on, the assassins would take the lives of political opponents and they were even feared by the crusaders. This form of political murder was dubbed 'assassination'. Nowadays, the targeted killing of anyone often gets called an assassination. As for hired killers, which often gets conflated with assassin, that's usually only something you see in mafia fiction, as actual hitmen are more of a hoax than anything else. Needless to say, I don't think any actual assassins exist nowadays."

“That’s...a lot,” I remarked. I was surprised she managed to say all that in one breath, let alone the fact that she didn’t shiver once while speaking.

“Well, you asked what I knew. I answered.”

“That I did.”

Some of what she said actually sounded interesting. I should try to remember this little history lesson. Never mind that. She still hasn’t fessed up.

“You know, the reason I asked if you met Remora before was because I met her once too. Do you know what she told me?”

“Not a clue.”

“She told me she was an assassin.”

I bluffed. She never told me that. But there was no way Rachel could know that.

Rachel blinked once. So it wasn’t like I could say she didn’t bat an eyelash, but still, her lack of shock was astounding.

“Of course. Sounds like something an idiot would say.”

“What?”

“No actual assassin would admit to being one, would they? Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose? Whatever. It’s all fiction, anyway.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” I wasn’t ready to give up.

“Why? Are you one?” She asked.

I leaned back. She almost had me on the ropes, but I decided to play along.

“Maybe I am,” I smirked.

“I guess I have no choice. Do what you want with me. I accept my fate.”

I blinked. Not once, not twice, not even three times. It was more like 30 blinks in rapid succession.

“I’m...sorry. I lied to you. I’m not an assassin,” she really left me stifled.

“I forgive you. A lie like that is harmless. Unlike being an actual assassin, which probably isn’t harmless. Is that why you can’t get to sleep? Because you’re having scary thoughts like that?” She asked.

“I just might. Maybe if I slept beside you tonight, I won’t have such thoughts.”

“You mean…? But what would Ves think if she saw us?” Rachel gasped.

“I doubt she’d mind. It’s just sleeping. But you’re right that she’d get lonely. Maybe you should come into bed with Ves and I?”

Rachel’s eyes shifted around. She must have been evaluating her options.

“I...guess...if you don’t mind my shivering.”

“It’s cold at night, anyway. Remember what you said earlier about sharing body heat?”

“But the couch is pretty small. Are you sure we can both fit?”

“We’ll make it work.”

I stepped over behind where she sat and curled against the cushion. I pulled Rachel down and spread the blankets over us.

It felt hasty. On impulse. Really, my reasons for doing so were flimsy at best. What did I have to gain other than wrapping my arms around her wide torso and pressing myself against her back?

Needless to say, that’s exactly what I did.

Also needless to say, she shivered.

“Um. Are you sure you’re comfortable?” She asked.

“Mm...yeah. You’re quite warm,” I admitted. It was true. No matter how much she didn’t think so, feeling her up close was like hugging the bottom of a laptop while a game was running, if that bottom of a laptop was soft and fleshy and breathed brisk breaths close to my ear.

I wasn’t making it sound sexy, was I?

I was expecting her to refute the ‘warm’ statement, but she didn’t.

“I can feel your b...breasts on my back,” she muttered.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

She didn’t answer after that, and I felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me.

I really don’t know how I’ll explain this to Ves. I went from being jealous of Rachel to sleeping next to her. Some hypocrite of a wife I turned out to be.

In the morning, my head felt heavy and full of hot air. When I pulled myself up, I stared with dull eyes.

The TV, which never seemed to get turned on, stared back at me. What didn’t stare back at me was Rachel, who wasn’t anywhere I could see her.

I, however, was still covered in the mass of several blankets.

“Oh, good morning, hun,” Ves’s tired, half-yawn voice, with just a sprinkle of softness mixed in greeted me. I turned and saw her in the dining room, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“Ugh…” I groaned and rubbed my head, “good morning.”

“Rough night?” She asked.

“Something like that.”

“Rachel told me you came out last night and wanted to try sleeping on the couch, so she went to sleep in the guest room and give you some space,” Ves explained.

That was a total lie, but...I guess she was trying to cover for me?

“Where is she?” I asked.

“In the kitchen,” Rachel’s voice answered with her mouth full of...something. Rachel walked out and had a loaf of garlic bread in her hand and a big chunk bitten out of it.

“Isn’t that the garlic bread I made for all of us to share?” I asked.

“Well, I haven’t eaten all of it yet,” Rachel set the loaf down.

I grumbled and stumbled my way off the couch and over to the dining room table where garlic bread awaited.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Ves offered.

“Black, please.”

I wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but that morning in particular, I needed the caffeine.

Ves went up to pour me a cup, and while she went at that, I broke off a piece of the garlic bread.

“No more for you. That’s plenty, missy,” I scolded Rachel. She whimpered, but I ignored her.

After she poured me a cup and sat back down, Rachel sat down as well. She had a sullen look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She looked in my direction and gave a slight smile.

“I’m just trying to figure out how this day will go,” she said, “I still can’t believe I get to live here.”

The emphasis on “live” sent a chill down my spine.

Ves took a sip of her tea. I could smell the flowery aroma from where I sat as the steam wafted through the air. If I had to take a guess, it was probably jasmine tea.

“Say, Vesuvius, do you ever get the feeling that we met before? Perhaps in a past life? It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling of familiarity between us,” Rachel rasped with that wicked smile. That was when I noticed that she didn’t have any tea next to her. Actually, that wasn’t so unusual.

“Yeah, actually,” Ves set down her cup and smiled while turning her attention to the floor. It wasn’t such a pleasant smile, or at least I didn’t think so. “You remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” Rachel leaned in.

“She was someone I didn’t know for very long, but I felt immense guilt over what happened to her.”

“Wow. That heavy?”

Is Ves going to do it? Will she finally say the name of the person who impacted both of our lives three years ago?

“Yeah,” Ves continued, “her name was Gardenia. She was an older woman, and she lived isolated surrounded by a field of poisonous plants. I was a runaway when she took me in, and she taught me all about various flora. But, the ones who hunted me down found where I was staying and while I managed to get away, they shot her down. Even now I can’t help but blame myself for her death.”

Wait. Gardenia? Who?

“Her death wasn’t your fault!” Rachel’s words shook as she shouted out and pounded her fist upon the table. The table shook as well, but that was less important, as the table was poorly assembled to begin with.

“I know, it’s just…”

“No one’s death is your fault! Not hers, not mine, not anyone’s!” She just about spat out.

“Yours?” Ves looked up, confused.

“Never mind that,” Rachel waved her hand away. “The point is, these people you met died. That’s their business. It shouldn’t be your problem. You’re not the one who killed them.”

“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I think I have killed someone before…”

“So what? Who hasn’t killed someone once or twice?”

I raised my hand.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” I chimed in.

“And that’s why we love you,” Rachel relaxed her brow and nodded to me before returning to a scowl in Ves’s direction. “My life is my own. If I die, that’s on me. If others die, that’s on them. I wouldn’t ask you to carry that burden.”

Ves looked like she was about to burst into tears. I couldn’t blame her. If I went through the things she had and got told off by a familiar stranger, I’d probably be wailing already.

“It’s me, Ves. I’m here,” Rachel laid her arms on the table and lowered her voice to an icy chill as she smiled slightly.

“But who are you?” Vesuvius asked, and tears began to stream from her eyes.

I got up and dabbed her eyes with a cloth.

“That’s for you to figure out. I think I’ve said enough. All this talk about death is making me want to feed chickens,” Rachel announced and walked out the door.

I had many things I wanted to say. Like how bold that was. How close she was to almost spilling the truth. But tending to Vesuvius was a little more important at the moment.

“Deep breaths,” I whispered.

She took a couple of deep breaths while I wiped away the tears.

She grabbed my arm with her own and pulled me closer to her. Taking the cue, I held onto her tight.

“Why am I so confused?” She pouted.

“Because she’s a confusing woman,” I said.

“I just don’t want to fail with her.”

What if your suspicion ended up being correct? I wanted to ask her, but didn’t.

“Failure happens. I know you’re doing your best,” is what I ended up saying instead.

She rested her head against my chest and I stroked her hair. We must have basked in that moment for at least ten minutes before breaking away.

I would have let it last longer, but I had to confront the one guilty of bringing my wife to tears. The one who was most likely still in the barn.

I slipped my t-shirt back on which had been conveniently laying on the floor and rushed out into the barn.

What’s the big idea? Out of all the ways she could have come forward with the truth, she chose...no, never mind that. What about the fact that the truth still wasn’t out in the open? How long was this going to keep going on for where we all tiptoe between attraction and mourning? It’s getting out of hand.

I stomped my feet as I stormed into the barn. She was still standing there, hunched over.

“Okay. I’ll ask again: what do you want with us?” I demanded.

Rachel stood straight up and turned toward me. Her face carried an icy stare.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice darkened like that of a howling snowstorm.

“That thing with Gardenia. She never told me that before, but she trusts you, a stranger. I don’t usually get jealous, but maybe it’s because she’s never taken interest in anyone else, besides one person in particular. And you know what? I was fine with her obsessing over that person, because I know how bad losing that person affected her. But that person wasn’t Gardenia.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit. Ves loves you. I didn’t come with the intention of separating the two of you.”

“I know she loves me. But I think she has a crush on you, too.”

Rachel sighed.

“This is terrible…” She bemoaned. “I’ve been wanting to get your attention this whole time but instead I’ve only gotten her more into me while I’ve made you mad at me.”

“That’s not true. I quite liked last night. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

I shook my head. Yes, it was a lovely time, even if she didn’t seem all that comfortable. But that wasn’t what I wanted to say.

“...You never answered the question: what do you want with us?”

Her mouth opened, as if to gasp, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth, and when she opened again, she said:

“I know I have no right to be in your presence. I never wished to stir up any bad feelings with either of you. But even still, I wanted to see you both again.”

My eyes stung and turned misty. Guess it was my turn. Because she really did admit it, didn’t she? The thing I’ve been waiting for this whole time.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Who?” She asked in turn with a sly smile.

“That all depends: what do you want me to call you?”

With that, I walked out of the barn. There was still a whole day ahead of us.

#remoras full #vesuvius #rachel #rhea flection #juniper bark #writing #stories #drama

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