Back to the Fuchsia (2 page)

After more noisy slurps and even lower chuckling, I knew who he was talking about.

Randy, the wise-ass, was referring to me.

I deftly plucked the newsprint barricade from his hands, quickly rolling it up to make a nice club.

A warning was absolutely out of the question.

I struck suddenly, like a cobra. The resulting thwack of the newspaper contacting Randy’s noggin was oddly satisfying.

“I’m not talking about myself, Randy! I’m talking about Max Kovacs.”

Nearby, atop the carpeted cat tower, Darcy opened one eye and growled in protest of having her catnap disturbed.

“Ouch! Damn it, Gertie! You’re becoming increasingly violent. I think it’s time we have a talk about your caffeine intake.”

By the way he lightly patted his head, it was obvious he was more concerned with his perfect hair than possible traumatic brain injury, as a result of the repeated beatings on his skull.

“If you’re talking about Max, then the answer is yes, of course. Everyone feels that way after talking to Max. He’s a genius, but his brain is being slowly cooked on a cannabis fired rotisserie. Don’t take him too seriously. What’s this all about anyway? Did he say something crude?”

“Oh no. Not at all. It was a strange conversation we had shortly after Leigh’s wedding. He was talking about magic and witchcraft and something about Maslow’s Hammer, Crabtree’s Bludgeon, and Occam’s Razor. Normally, I would just have forgotten about the whole thing, but he was certainly trying to make a point. The more I asked what he meant, the more riddles and proverbs he spat out. I wonder if they were important items I should be looking for. You know, a few new gadgets I should collect to beef up my magic.”

“Occam’s Razor? What about it? Sounds vaguely familiar. It was something I read in Philosophy, I think. Or maybe math? Then again, they might be some sort of mythology. I don’t know, nor do I care.”

He quickly wagged a lone finger at me.

“And neither should you. We’ve got enough to worry about around here without being driven off track by the mumblings of a buzz-brained hippie.”

Snagging the paper away from me, he hurriedly unfurled it to bury his face in the comics.

“That’s Max. Only he knows and those brain cells are toast by now. Don’t waste another minute on it. I sure wouldn’t.”

Randy the enabler. That man knows just the way to quiet the logical little voice in my head.

I took his paper away and gave him one more whack, just for fun.

About the time he started his whining, Darcy pawed at the front page, drawing my attention to the headline.

A massive earthquake rocked Ecuador the previous night. Widespread damage and massive injuries were being reported.

“Dear God! That’s the fifth one I’ve heard about this week. Remember the others?”

“What, you mean that snapping sound? That was the sound of my facial bones cracking. You hit a lot harder than you think.”

“No. This earthquake,” I mumbled. I knew full well Randy wasn’t paying attention. The news gave me an uneasy feeling.

It's one of those feelings that you can’t quite figure out. You’re not sure how you feel, so you just end up feeling strange and out of sorts.

I suppose it could have been a symptom of my concern for the people of Ecuador, but this was different. I actually believed I sensed that something supernatural would be found at the root of these catastrophes.

I had a hunch these quakes were related—and they had nothing to do with natural science.

“Ha! Contrary to your assumption, I was watching your face, Gertie. Your expressions tell me everything. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

“Really?”

“Yep. You think this recent rash of earthquakes has to do with the paranormal. Am I right?”

“Yes. And now I’m wondering if you have the power to read my mind. And let me tell you, the mere thought of that is fairly unsettling.”

“I think I know you better than you know yourself these days. You’re not too hard to figure out, you know.”

The cheesy grin on Randy’s face grew larger by the second.

“Now, before you go jumping to conclusions, remember that you—I should say we—have been involved in a lot of magical disasters. So your brain is simply reacting to the earthquakes as if we somehow have a hand in it.”

Unlike the laid back, happy Randy I was used to, his expression took a sudden turn for the serious.

“You need to stop it. We haven’t done anything. There have always been random earthquakes for millions of years. Guess what? They are unpredictable. It has nothing to do with us. Please don’t make it our problem. Just relax. Now pick a new topic. Talk about something else.”

“Sure. All right.” I jumped at the chance to mess with him. “Let’s talk about your sex life.”

“What sex life? I wouldn’t have less sex if I were on the dark side of the moon.”

“I thought you and Gary…were…you know.”

“What? Lovers? Just because we are both gay and good friends? Please. It’s a little insulting.”

“Don’t go pulling that line on me, Randy. I’ve seen you two together, going out. I see how you look at him, how you talk to him, the way you act when he’s around. You like him far more than you’re letting on. So, what’s going on?”

“Fine, maybe I like him. Okay, I like him a lot. For just once in my life…ugh. I just don’t want to mess things up. I’ve never had a long-term relationship. You know, the meaningful kind. I’ve never been in…I’m not even sure how to go about whatever you want to call it.”

“Whatever?” I couldn’t have been struck with more disbelief if he’d grown a pair of antlers right there at the breakfast table.

“Jaysus almighty! We’re not plottin’ a murder. It’s love! It’s only love we’re talking about, you jug head!”

I took away his paper again and freshened his goose egg with another whack on the head. I handed the paper back. “Do you honestly think you’ll ever have something special if you’re scared to death of it? I think you need to get help. Just like Brad and I did.”

Darcy leapt onto the countertop, pounced on my wand, and delivered it to my open palm. “Thank you, Darcy. Now, let’s make love—uh…” My mouth froze while my brain reset its speech function. “That didn’t come out right.” Clearing my throat, I continued, “Let’s get you some lovin’. You know what I mean.”

“Stop! No. No magic intervention. For now at least.”

With a wink, I blew him a kiss and handed the wand back to Darcy. “You’ve got nothing to be afraid of, Randy.”

“Maybe we should switch this around? Let’s talk about you and Brad. Let’s talk about your sex life.”

“What about us? We’re fine. Mostly.”

Never in a million years would I tell Brad that he and I were mostly fine. Brad’s fiery passion had dropped down a notch or two. On four occasions in the past month, Brad suggested that we catch up on sleep rather than enjoy nightly playtime. It was like missing out on playtime once a week! I hoped Brad wasn’t losing interest, after all, I had at least a hundred years of sex to catch up on.

“But you sure as hell aren’t quiet. Did you know I have to go to sleep with headphones on? It sounds like a pair of drunken chimpanzees tearing up your room. It took me a few nights to figure out why you suddenly start shouting like a pirate—an Irish pirate. It’s when you’re—”

I could feel my face flush as red as a ripe tomato, and there was nothing I could do other than wave my hand.

“Stop right there, Randy. No need to elaborate. Sorry about that. We’ll try to be a little more discreet.”

I knew I had to shut him up before he started an exaggerated impersonation of my most passionate moments.

“Let’s talk about the bed and breakfast project. We’re down to one room left to decorate. This drab kitchen. I have some color ideas I’d like to go over.”

Randy didn’t give in that easy. He was just about to carry on his childish antics anyway, but before he could get started, a dragon’s roar rattled the kitchen walls. “Olaf! God, that friggin’ dragon is so damn loud.”

“That’s his happy howl. Brad must be home.” I ran for the front door and sure enough, Brad stepped in. I had really been enjoying having Brad around more since he’d moved down to the plantation, but I wasn’t a big fan of the fire department’s rotating swing shift business.

A New Calling

A
s soon as I wrapped my arms around him, my sixth sense detected something was amiss. I knew he had something to tell me, but he wasn’t sure about how to go about bringing it up. That is never a good combination.

“Might as well just say it,” I whispered, nuzzling my face into the familiar little dip in the center of his broad muscular chest.

“Whatever it is.” I swallowed—dryly, and with some difficulty. It felt like I just choked down a cactus. I was certain I was about to be served with heart-wrenchingly awful, terrible news of the first degree.

Brad scooped me up in his arms and kissed me. “Sunshine? What’s going on?”

“You know I can feel things. You know I have special witch senses.”

“Oh, you don’t really believe in that kind of stuff, do you?”

“Of course I do. You of all people should know. Take, for example, the time I knew you were about to fall down the stairs. I said, ‘Watch your step, Brad. You’re about to trip and fall down the stairs’. You fell all the way from the top to the bottom, bouncing your head off of every tread.”

“Well…sure. After all, you let those baby dragons run up the stairs while I was carrying those boxes into the attic. I actually think those little demons tripped me on purpose.”

“Maybe, then how about the time I knew Randy was about to fall? I said to him, ‘Watch out, boy, you’re going to fall from that ladder’, and then sure enough, he fell twenty feet. Broke his clavicle and bruised his scrotum.”

Brad winced at the painful thought of it. “Oooh, yeah. That was ugly. But, Sunshine, anyone with eyeballs could see that he was about to fall. He was too lazy to move the ladder, so he tried hanging on the side of it to paint the rest of that window frame. Randy’s an accident waiting to happen anyway.”

“Still, I was right about those things. You can’t argue with the facts. And now I can tell you have something to say to me, but you don’t want to. I want you to get it over with. So just say it.”

I forced my eyes shut, like I awaited a firing squad to carry out their order to execute me. “Okay, I’m ready. Fire!”

Brad cleared his throat, a sure sign of bad news, or maybe even worse, a confession. “Remember when I told you about all of the search and rescue training I’ve completed? Turns out I’m now the most qualified search and rescue team leader in the Parish, possibly in the entire state of Louisiana.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a good thing then. You can search and rescue me anytime. Do you get to wear a special patch or something?”

“No, well…maybe, but what it means is that I’ve been asked to set up an emergency global response team of volunteers. The goal is to have a team who can respond to disasters, anywhere in the world, at a moment’s notice. Think how important it could be to have something like that, especially with all these earthquakes lately. We could really save some people, Gertie.”

Brad’s eyes sparkled, like a little boy who had just dreamed up a tree house adventure. His smile was absolutely contagious. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone so happy about anticipating a cataclysmic disaster!”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s not the disasters, it’s the excitement of being able to help out. Of course, there’s some work to be done first. We don’t even have a properly trained search and rescue dog. I was thinking that would be something you could help me out with, Sunshine.”

“A dog? Now we’re talking! But why stop with just a dog? I mean, the possibilities are endless. Just look around.” Olaf bellowed his best dragon’s roar from the front yard, Kate and Wills howled their Sasquatch calls in agreement. “See? Seems like they’re all volunteering for search and rescue.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We might be used to having paranormal pets around, but that doesn’t mean Peruvian villagers hanging on the side of a mountain aren’t going to completely wig out at the sight of flying monkeys or guitar-strumming Sasquatches riding in on galloping unicorns—”

“Banjo, you mean banjo strumming.”

“Oh, yeah. Excuse me. Banjo-strumming Sasquatches. In any case, I think you know what I mean, Gertie. I would like to stay away from mythical beasts. Isn’t there some magic you could use on a regular, everyday dog? Something to make it a super search and rescue animal?”

“Oh sure! Still, I think you should seriously consider a search and rescue cat. Nothing says ‘I’m here to help’ like a nice pussy.”

Brad made a choking sound. “Words to live by, Sunshine. How about this? Let’s see what you come up with and we’ll do a trial of sorts. You know, test out a couple different ones and see what service animal would be most useful.”

“Good idea. I’ll get right on that this week. Randy and I will be finishing the last of the painting, too. Do you have any preference for colors in the kitchen?”

“None whatsoever.”

Now, I knew he didn’t necessarily have a preference, I just wanted to see if he brought up an aversion to any colors in particular. I had a color in mind, something pinkish—shockingly pinkish.

So it goes without saying, I wasn’t about to bring up my color specifically. After that, I happily went about my morning, smiling as I imagined how bright and pink my kitchen would soon be.

I was also quite excited about training a new magical search and rescue animal.

“Meow.” Darcy rubbed against my leg, letting me know she’d listened in on my conversation with Brad.

“Sorry, Darcy. Your duties are much too important already. Who’d take care of my messages? Or help me with magic spells?”

“Meow, meow.”

“Randy? No way could he fill your paws. But you can help by finding some volunteer candidates for the rescue animal position.”

“Meow.”

Darcy didn’t seem happy with my answer. As any cat person will tell you, cats are sometimes very vengeful creatures. I hoped this wouldn’t become a problem.