May Submissions

Caroline wasn't sure if she felt like going to the beach with her dormitory friends. Now that the school year finally ended and this was her very last year here at UCLA, she preferred to use these last few days doing something more constructive with her time before she herself took the Greyhound bus back to Chicago. Her bags were packed and ready to go; she had already sent her books home by surface mail the day before. Sighing, she grabbed her keys and descended the stairs to the ground floor lobby of her dorm. As she passed through the double doors, she spied a large poster announcing an outing to Sequoia National Park. "Maximum twelve persons and absolutely no stragglers," she read. Entry price was individual and paid by each member of the group. The trip was sponsored by the School of Law with Dr. David Clarke monitoring and was open to all students and employees of the university. It was to take place on Saturday15 ^th. "That's tomorrow!" She'd better check that out right now before the main office closed it for good; it wouldn't hurt to try, as most of the dorms were empty and a good proportion of the students have either gone home or to the beach. Caroline headed for the Law School and asked the receptionist about the outing.

"You're just in time; I was about to call Professor Clarke and remind him about the deadline. Let's see...you're in luck; there are plenty of places left. I guess not everyone's interested; for sure everyone else has left. I went last year on a similar outing with him and just loved it; it's too bad he's leaving this year. Outings of this kind will be a rare thing here at UCLA. I'll get you signed up; you're the ninth and last person to sign up. The list is now officially closed. Thank you for participating; I'll guarantee you that you'll never regret it. Oh, before I forget, here is a list of things you should bring with you for the outing; it's a five hour drive, so wake up time is at 5 a.m. Be at the meeting point in front of the Law school no later than 5:30. Departure is at 6 sharp! "

That night Caroline went to bed early and woke up at 4 a.m. the next morning. She showered dressed in a old pair of blue jeans, white tee and a fleece hooded jacket. After stuffing all the things she prepared the night before in her knapsack, including couple of bottles of water and some fruit, she put her personal papers, digital camera and sunglasses in a small handbag that she carried over one shoulder. She wasn't a big eater and wasn't worried about sandwiches that would eventually be soggy by the time she was ready to eat them. Putting on her hiking shoes, she made sure everything was in place when her return; the next morning was her last day and she wanted to spend it walking around the campus before she left the next day for the Greyhound bus depot in central Los Angeles. Arriving at the meet-up point, she saw she was the only one there. Within five minutes, however, the others on the list began to arrive, each carrying a large knapsack. At 5:45 a large grey van rolled up in front of them, and a tall man got out. He wore jeans, hiking shoes and a thick flannel jacket over a light blue tee shirt.

"Good morning," he greeted them in an unmistakable English accent. "I'm Dr. David Clarke, and I'll be your guide on this trip to one of California's more beautiful national parks. Let's see if everyone is here. When I call your name, get in the van. Danny, Luis, Karen, Billy, Marty, Jordan, Sheila, Mary (she turned to wave at Caroline), it's good to see you've decided on coming. And last there is Caroline. Who arrived here the first? Caroline? You get to join my group; we'll talk about separating in groups of three along the way. And now let's get rolling. Luis, you can join me in front and read the map."

After handing her bag over to Luis who stashed it in the back along with the others, Caroline chose a window seat in the second row behind the driver. Everyone got comfortable and began to slump over each other, eyes heavy with sleep. As they drove out of the city limits, Caroline enjoyed looking at the countryside roll beside her window. She could see Dr. Clarke reflected in the driver's mirror. Occasionally he would look in it and see her and smile. At first she ignored him but gave up and smiled back, but just once, put on her sunglasses and stared out the window. She was very wary about men, having ended a very difficult relationship.

After a couple of stops they finally arrived at the national park. Dr. Clarke got out first and asked that everyone collect all their affairs because once they got started, there was no turning back. When everyone was ready, he led the way to the main path and everyone paid to get in the park, and each was given a souvenir brochure and map.

"Now we'll begin by forming our groups. In my group will be Caroline and Luis." As they started down the path, Carline found it interesting that a law professor would be deeply interested in Nature and ecological subjects, learning from Mary that this wasn't the first ecological outing he monitored. As if reading her thoughts, Dr. Clarke explained that he was profoundly interested in ecology and all things natural through his maternal grandfather who was an American botanist from California at the turn of the century who eventually went to study at the University of Cambridge in England and never came back. He was passionately interested in trees and keeping natural surroundings natural without the intrusion of man or artificiality. He was continuing the tradition on his father's side by studying law, and at the same time completed side studies in natural and ecological sciences. "And please, call me David," he ended, "there's no real need for formal address while on this trip." He then asked Caroline what she was studying at the university. She answered that she had just finished her masters in art history, specializing in medieval art. She was going to Paris next September and will continue her studies at the Beaux-Arts, eventually ending with a complete doctorate in medieval art history at the Sorbonne.

"That's a full two years … a very courageous venture, if I must say," he replied.

"This isn't my first visit to France, for I have relatives who live in the southwest. A great-uncle on my father's side married a French girl he met during World War Two and stayed there; ever since I was a child I was always invited to visit them. "

They walked slowly through the forest, and Caroline found it utterly magical. It was as if time stood still, the giant trees were standing witnesses to the passing of time. She could feel a kind of presence and wondered if there were little folk or fairies living in this forest; recalling her childhood belief that all forests and pretty gardens each had their own little people.

A short way on, they passed a sign that announced that some work was being done on the trees in the vicinity and that visitors were invite to pass through without stopping? Caroline didn't see the sign and stopped in front of a large tree that appeared to have the markings of a door on the trunk near the ground.

"Look at the markings on this tree. It looks like a door down there, doesn't it?"

"Caroline, you shouldn't stop here; there's work being done overhead and we aren't supposed to be here."

Luis hardly finished speaking when a loud swishing noise was heard from above. He tried to push Caroline out of the way and narrowly missed being hit on the head by a large branch. Caroline, however, got hit by a corner of the branch and fell to the ground. David came running and bent down, putting his jacket on the ground under Caroline's head. He saw she was unconscious and took out the emergency kit he always carried with him on hiking trips. He would do everything possible to avoid having to call the forest rescue squad.

Caroline, in her unconscious state, couldn't understand why her head hurt her so much and got up. She was curious by the little door and couldn't resist the temptation to knock on the door to see if it would actually be opened.

It was opened by a plump little lady, about two feet high, dressed in the manner of the pioneer women of the Old West. Seeing Caroline's scratched forehead, she ran inside to get a bowl filled with water and long strips of cloth held together by a round silver ring. Motioning her to lie down on the soft mossy earth so she could wash her scratched forehead, the little woman spoke in a high child-like voice. She said her name was Matilda and she has been living in the forest with her husband John and two sons Wills and Harry for over a thousand years. She said the little forest folk went out only after closing hours; otherwise they were invisible, appearing only to those whom they know were kind and honest. She knew Caroline was good and kind, as was the Professor (this is what she called David), because of what she said about her childhood belief. The primary function of the little forest folk was to keep the forest clean and to repair anything that was broken or worn out.

"There," she said, "please drink this," she gave her a large bowl of steamy hot herbal tea. "This will make your head hurt less and help you sleep."

"But I don't want to sleep. I want to talk about you and your family." Matilda smiled, shook her head and placed the bowl in Caroline's hands. "Drink," she insisted. Caroline had no choice but to drink the thick mixture. She felt her head nodding and drifted off to a deep profound sleep. Somewhere in her dream she felt something or someone tapping her face.

"Caroline, Caroline, wake up!" It was David tapping her face, with the others all gathered around, looking at anxiously at her.

"We didn't see any one or anything, Caroline," said Luis. "You were totally knocked out by the falling branch; for a while we were really worried."

"I knocked on the door at the bottom of the trunk and it was opened by a two foot little lady named Matilda," she answered, and described her experience in detail.

David smiled, remembering his own experience with the little forest folk, but didn't want to say anything in front of the others. No one, except maybe Caroline, would believe it anyway. He hoped there would be a time for them to compare their experiences. It was well worth the interest they both shared in Mother Nature and her invisible creatures. It could also be the beginning of a very positive friendship, especially as they were both going to be in Europe about the same time.

David helped Caroline get up. She felt her scratched head and looked at the ground, still trying to understand the meaning of her experience. Maybe it was all a figment of her imagination, or maybe it was the traumatic effect of the fall on the ground. She looked at David; he nodded knowingly and smiled, as if he understood what had happened to her. Something shiny stuck out underneath her knapsack. She lifted the bag up and found a small silver ring which held Matilda's white strips of cloth together. David looked closely at it and recognized it immediately from an old photograph in his grandfather's diary. The ring, David read, belonged to his grandfather's mother, who, it was said, was given it by the little fairy folk of the forest in thanks for her good and kind services to them. He took it and put it on Caroline's right ring finger.

"Someday I'll tell you the story behind this ring," he whispered in Caroline's ear.

She frowned, and then smiling, nodded. She decided to ask him when they had a moment to themselves. And she was really looking forwards to that.

The sands of the day had been warm and welcoming, so welcoming in fact that Arkin had fallen asleep, listening to the waves crashing just off the rocks, only twenty or so yards from the where they had been spending time. He and his new wife, Krista had been sending the day, talking and sharing a small lunch. Finally she had gone in search of seashells, and he had decided on a nap.

How much time had passed while he slept? He didn’t know, only a chill had stirred him into consciousness, the air had cools so drastically that he actually shivered, waking up he looked around. The sky was a dark foreboding gray, the wind howled across the angry looking ocean. Sitting up a hand lifted and shoved back waves of midnight hair, while concerned gray eyes darted about for any sign of his wife.

At first it looked as if she had simply vanished into nothingness. Quickly he moved to his feet, and looked further toward the road, where his jeep was parked. Though even at this distance there was a clear view and she was not there. Sunset was not far off, and the thunder booming in the distance said the storm wasn’t either. Finally he noticed a trail of footprints leading down to the water. His heart stilled, and sank into his gut. God had she drown?

Instantly he ran that, way looking rather clumsy as one could not really run upon sand. At that moment lightening cracked and danced across the blackening sky, adverting his attention, the loud cry of thunder soon followed, giving the telltale signs that the storm was approaching faster. As he looked back to the water, he could swear he saw a figure in the distance, swimming. “Krista!” He shouted, and as if to answer, thunder crashed against, an almost deafening boom. The sky opened up letting the sharp stings of hard rain fall down upon him and all that surrounded, shielding his face, as he tried hard focusing out to sea, was it her?

Again he called her name, louder though over the crashing waves, it would sound but a mere whisper if anything was heard at all. He staggered now against the wind blowing at him and the rain pelting him harder, stinging his face, and blinding him. Steadily yet he moved toward the waters edge. Harder now did the water crash against the near-by cliffs like angry fists upon a wall.

As he stared out into the ocean, the waves were coming hard, the rain falling in heavy sheets; visibility was difficult, at best. He saw nothing, maybe he had imagined it all, and perhaps she was waiting for him in the jeep. Turning he started to head back, the wind now tearing at his back, like sharp stones the rain stung at his skin.

As he took a step he heard the soft sound of her voice carrying over the hammering thunder that rocked the skin.

It was pitch dark and only the flashing of lightening illuminated the area. He turned back, toward the ocean, was that really her? His breath caught as a flash of lightening gave visage to the feminine form strolling from the rolling ocean waves. She was soaked, and smiling. He gave a halfhearted laugh, and ignoring the hard rains quickly moved to take her into his arms.

She met him in the embrace, cold wet arms snaking around his neck as she pressed her body against his, moaning softly at the warmth of his embrace. “I’m so cold” she whimpered against his lips, just before the kiss turned more demanding. Eagerly he accepted her mouth, half crazed with the idea that he had lost her. Easily into his arms did he lift her, turning and dropping their intertwined bodies onto the sand. The kisses turning more maddening, more hurried.

She met them with passion, her mouth opening to him, and easily accepting the seduction of his tongue along her own. He tore at her soaked clothing and she yielding into his fierce, frantic demands. Helping him with her own frozen fingers shoving the offending material from her body. Soon she was naked their beneath him, above him the thunder cracked and roared, lightening danced and streaked. The waves were slamming into the rocks of the cliffs and he could care less. It all melted away, only she mattered.

Easily her fingers found his jeans, unbuttoning them slowly, teasing him and she purred up with soft giggles, “I want you…” she whispered, tugging down the zipper. He couldn’t take the slow pace; he caught her hand and pressed it down above her head into the sand that supported her. With his free hand he quickly finished unzipping his pants, then rather harshly shoved them down and kicked them away.

Finally his naked body covered hers, sheltering it from the still stinging rain as it poured down around them. Once more their lips met in a kiss, hot and heated. His hand caressed her thighs, kneading, stroking the soft cold flesh. She moaned and twisted beneath him. Pushing up into his touch, harder against his body.

Her breast ached, firmly locked against his chest. He slid his hand between her thighs, finding her clit with simple searching. She moaned, kissing his throat. He toyed with her harden little button until her hips road wickedly against his hand, finally he pressed two thick fingers deep into her opening. She dropped her head back onto the beach, moaning now as he easily manipulated her body. Stroking her inner-walls with his fingers. She cooed and arched up against his hand, writhing against the on-slaughter of attention to her aching pussy.

He pulled his hand free, kissing her hard, biting her lip as he adjusted his body between her now quivering thighs, hands on her hips lifting her to meet his downward thrust, as the head of his harden member pressed against her welcoming entrance. With one single stroke he was buried insider her welcoming depths. She cried out her hands grazing his chest. Leaving bruises upon his tanned chest, in the wake of her nails.

He held her hips as he took her there, upon the beach, the thunder roared in response to the passion cries, the rain no matter how cruel, only soaked their heated bodies in the midst of their passions. She held tight to him, hips rolling to match the tempo he had set. Legs curled against his hips, until he, wanting better depth paused and adjusted them to fit over his shoulders.

At this angle he slammed his rock hard cock deeper into her yielding tunnel, the steeled fresh brushing over her bundle of nerves, sending her into mewing pleas, and he only grinned, and moaned at his own pleasure. One of his hands, finally settled just at her clef, his fingers parting her swollen lips, so that he could once more toy with her clit.

Hissing out in pleasure she curled her nails into his sides, holding him as she bucked and rode up, meeting his downward plunges, his finger against her clit, causing her eyes to close. Though the storm continued on violently around them, she was deaf to all but his moans of passion. The feeling of his harden flesh stretching her tight tunnel, assaulting her senses with each hard, timed pummel.

The timed attention on her body between his finger and cock quickly taking her to the peak of her arousal. Her nails biting fresh wounds into the sides of him, and yet he didn’t care, couldn’t stop. He kept thrusting, harder more wildly than before, intent on spilling himself greedily within her lush, form as it lay yielded beneath him. Ruthlessly he continued stroking her clit, all the while slamming himself deeper into her scalding heat.

Finally her screams of release challenged the storm, her eyes closed as her body wracked almost violently in the waves of her orgasm, the rush of her sweet juice flooded from her body, spraying over his flesh and staining her own quaking thighs. Though even now he did not relent. His pounding continued until his own cries filled the air, spilling himself inside her tightly clenched walls, he shuddered atop her.

Here he remained until his cock went soft inside her, leaning down he took her lips in a rapturous kiss, releasing her legs from his shoulders. Breathlessly, he pulled from her still trembling body, and gathered her up against him. Nuzzling her neck he murmured softly, “I love you” His eyes drifted closed.

He awoke to the sound of sirens, of men shouting. A groan wad given as he rolled over, it was still dark but the storm seemed to have relented slightly, though it still fell it was not as violent as it had been, what seemed only minutes ago. A policeman approached him, a scowl upon his face, “Excuse me son. What are you doing here this time of night?” Akrin giving a sheepish grin explained how he and his wife were simply enjoying a day together.

The cop looked even more angered by this. “Son, where is your wife?” Akrin frowned, turning to look back at where they had been laying; he had gotten up thinking she was still there. Though she wasn’t there, only her clothes laid in a pile along with his. “She was just here, maybe she went to the jeep” He half spoke to himself. “I think you need to get dressed and come with me.” Still the sire’s call blared out, resounding off the cliffs, almost to piercing for delicate ears.

Akrin did as he was told, dressing and gathering up Krista’s belongings as well, he then moved to follow the cop up the beach toward the cars. As he made it to the top of the small incline he saw the ambulance. The cop moved toward it, gesturing that he follow. A frown touched his face, and once more that sinking feeling came over him. Reaching the ambulance, the cop nodded to of the Emt’s whom moved to open the doors, inside laid a black body bag, and upon seeing this, a lump formed in Akrin’s throat.

The officer reached in to take hold of the zipper, and looking at Akrin’s face, slowly tugged it back, revealing a very pale blue face of Krista. “Oh god no” Akrin spoke just before dropping down to his knees. “Is this your wife son?” The officer asked. Unable to answer, Akrin simply nodded. “She drown, She’s been dead about six hours or so, the coroner believes.” Akrin looked up, unbelieving, at that time, she would have had to have drown during his first nap, before… He closed his eyes, and silently cried.

*Broken lives, former dreams closing shadows fears unseen. No way out, no direction up. This prison holding, tightly kept, loss of innocence long since felt. Painful words, deceiving help. Once my heart, now only lies, how my heart hurt, how hard he tried. To reel me in with spellbound words, his web of deception for so long my home. I broke away with little sanity left, an empty void, a torrid shell. To young to remember, a time so far ago, when my world he held in hands, and he let it go. No more his toy, his little game. To scared to remember, suffocated by pain. Alone he left me trembling tides, no more loving words or holding hands, I quit his game and ruined his plans.

He though to be her savior, her gleaming white knight. The fears now over took him, He seeks his own plight. Now he can't help her, barely knows himself. He leaves her now, as he sets off on a quest, a twisting road to find himself. Who knows how long his journey shall take, to places unseen in the depths in oneself. Love was to be the victor, a bond between the two, now separate they move, a fork in the road into distant thunders, each ride alone.

She held her body, no heart could she see. The insides of a child locked in the woman she should be. She's searching for reasons, lost within herself. Together they wander, a time something felt, but was it true its hard to say both to afraid to leave, both to proud to stay. For a time locked together in a lovers embrace, though apart did they live, locked within themselves. To young in mind, still to much to grow. Leaving the other abandoned in a hell she already knows, a shattered little angle, a broken little soul.

Tearing me apart, it seems they only try. No way to understand me, never had reason to start. Too locked within their hatred, to involved within the game. I'm stuck being a piece, moved between the lines, no mans land hath no hatred like vengeful parent kinds. People in my life, broken on their own, no way to help them, no way to understand. Each in their own hell, dealing with the demons they find. I have my own reasons, my own crumpled plans, they can't help me, they can't understand. We all have our troubles, though we try to lend a hand, our own takes precedence, such a simple stand.

Through these troubled times, see this is where you leave me, a shade upon a ground. Hands buried in sands, puzzle pieces all around. Try as I may feebly to put them in the whole, puzzle pieces broken, of this life I don't even know.

Cherish tender whispers shared, and the heat bathing against our skin, which is bared. Cherish the passions shared in dark, for in the morning we must part.

As from you, I now must part, forever cherish the memory that I leave upon your heart.

Where’d It Go?

(May 7, 2007)

Stepping onto the bus, she looked around carefully. Noting anything that might possibly be different than it had when they’d left two hours ago, before the show had started. Not seeing anything out of place, she turned to the door and motioned Blake in.

“All clear, Cowboy.”

He nodded at her, smiling. “Thanks.”

“It’s my job.” She moved to the side, allowing him to move past her. Watching as he made his way to the back of the bus, he paused long enough to tap in his code and enter his makeshift bedroom. “And you’re welcome,” she breathed as the door closed behind him.

Ali had just settled on the couch when he poked his head back out. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Should I be?” The gods only know how badly I’d like to…

He flashed her a sexy smile full of promise and wickedness in response. “I don’t know, should you?” He let the door close behind him, leaving her sitting with her thoughts.

Heaven help me, she scolded herself. I know I shouldn’t but… how can I not?

Ali stood nervously and made her way to the back of the bus. Lifting a fist, she knocked quickly. Her heart pounded as she waited for him to answer.

His blue eyes were shining with mischief when he peered out at her. “And I thought you’d just let yourself in.”

She shrugged, trying to hide the shaking of her hands. “Not my room.”

Grinning, he teased, “It could be.”

Blake took her hand and pulled her into his room. Backing her against the door, he tilted her chin up, kissing her soundly. He put both hands on her face, cradling her chin between them. The rasp of stubble against her bare skin sent shivers of excitement through her. She lifted her hands to his, placing hers over his, then allowing them to slide down to his forearms.

“You have no idea how long,” he kissed her again, stealing the gasp of pleasure from her mouth, “I’ve wanted to taste you like this.”

Ali closed her eyes, trying to calm her pounding heart and tame her racing thoughts. Pressing her hands against his chest, she pushed him back. “Blake, stop. This can’t…”

“It can, Cookie. If you let me.”

“It’s not you it’s…” He stopped her protest with his tongue. She pushed him back again, angry. “Damn you, you’re not making this any easier.”

He let her go and stepped back. “Hey, you came back here, remember?”

Ali rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. “I know. I’m sorry. My brain wasn’t working at that moment. I think your grin short-circuited it.”

Running his fingers through his hair, he looked at her helplessly. “What now then? I’ve already embarrassed myself by coming on to you. And you don’t want me.”

She hung her head in defeat. “You have that so wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s more that I’d rather not go to jail over disobeying a direct order.” She laughed. “You’d have to be one hell of a lover to make me wanna do that.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.” He grinned until he saw the conflict of emotion on her face. “You’d really go to jail over something so stupid?”

She nodded. “You forget that one of my superiors is a jealous ex. The other is the jealous ex’s best friend.”

“Ah. I see. So, you were ordered not to sleep with me? How rude.”

Ali couldn’t help but laugh. “I was ordered not to get involved in any manner.”

“This is why nobody likes you. You rain on my parade.”

“Sorry, Cowboy. Forgive me for being a tease?”

“Only if you let me kiss you again.”

“Blake…”

He moved closer, tilting her face up to his again. “No one will have to know. I sure as hell won’t tell anyone.” Lightly, he pressed his lips against hers and pulled back. “Will you?”

“Nark on myself? Not a chance.” She allowed him to kiss her cheek, chin, and neck. “But if you keep biting me like that, it’s going to be obvious.”

His laugh tickled her skin. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to bite where it won’t show.”

Please? “What about your girlfriend?”

He pulled back and looked her in the eye. “Your pal told my band she was gettin' friendly with your ex. Why should I care?”

“Because Flint lies like a rug when it comes to women.”

“Don’t we all?” He kissed her again, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Even so, I know her. She had no problem coming on to me while I was still married. Why wouldn’t she do this too?” Blake braced his free hand against the wall. “So, now that we’ve settled that, the first thing I need to do is this.” He pulled her gun from its holster at the small of her back. Leaning sideways, he dropped it on his dresser. “Now, if I make a wrong move you’ll just deck me and not shoot me.”

Ali laughed again. He had that effect on her; it didn’t matter how dire the situation, he could always make her smile. Just the thing she needed. Relaxing against the door, she let him kiss her. Why fight it? Flint’s been accusing me of sleeping with him since I started this assignment. Might as well make him right. Can’t possibly get into any more trouble than I’m already in…

Blake pulled her shirt from her jeans, sliding one hand up her stomach. She fell against his chest as the driver pulled out of the venue parking lot and started down the road. They jolted back against the door as the bus stopped at a red light. The sudden stop causing her gun to roll off the dresser and onto the floor.

Leaning away from him she muttered, “Just let me…”

Blake spun her around, causing her to topple onto the bed that was now behind her. “No ya don’t, Cookie. You can get it later.” He climbed onto the bed next to her.

“But…”

“Nope. Not gonna listen.”

He turned his attention to the buttons on her shirt, slowly popping each open and placing a kiss on every exposed inch of skin as he progressed. With the last button, he opened her shirt completely, exposing her tanned skin and olive green bra.

“Do you not own anything in any other color?”

“Will you be disappointed if my undies match?”

Blake cocked his head and thought. “I guess if I managed to make it that far, I don’t have the right, do I?”

She just shook her head, unable to dispute his logic. His fingertips brushed across the button of her pants. Deftly, he popped it open as well, tugging the zipper down as he went.

“Oh no,” she muttered, reaching for her hip.

“What did I…” his voice trailed off, seeing her reach for her phone. “Oh no is right, you are not going…”

“I have to,” she sighed, freeing her phone from it’s holster. “I haven’t checked in yet.” Glancing at the display, her worst fears were confirmed. “Keep your mouth shut.” Flipping her phone open, she said curtly, “Lt. Hart.”

“Took you long enough,” Flint replied sourly. “Where are you?”

“On Mr. Matson’s bus.” She frowned at Blake who rolled his eyes at her formal manner. “We only just left the venue about ten minutes ago. The driver is taking us back to the hotel for the night; we leave early in the morning for the next show.”

Blake rolled his eyes again and made a ‘get on with it’ gesture. She grinned despite herself. It’d been too long since she’d had a man so eager to be with her. Unable to wait for her, he slid his fingers inside the waistband of her panties. Disgusted with the realization that they did match her bra, he gave them a tug and made a face.

Attempting to continue her conversation with her commanding officer, she smacked the back of his head and glared. “Yes, Flint. I understand. No, everything is normal here.” Yeah, okay, so maybe not?

“Good. We’re in the area as well and will be meeting up with you at the hotel. We’re actually already here, waiting. Miss Morgan is anxious to see Mr. Matson as well. See you in ten.”

Ali gaped at her phone in disbelief. Smacking Blake’s hand away from her crotch, she sat up. She shoved her phone back into its holder angrily. “Stop it,” she smacked his hand again.

“Damn, that hurt,” he whined, shaking his hand. “Kiss it better?”

“I would if Flint and your girlfriend weren’t waiting at the hotel for us.” She wiggled out from under him, hating the cool air against her feverish body.

“Crap.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and watched her frantically tuck her shirt back in. “Ali…”

“Don’t,” she begged. “Please just don’t. I knew better and just couldn’t stop myself. I’ve been alone too damn long to say no.”

His face fell at the reality of her words. He knew she’d had a bad breakup awhile back and still he’d pushed. It’s what he got for listening to his guitarist. Tim insisted she was interested and maybe she was. But what right did that give him? And blaming Tim didn’t help either. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Trying to take my mind off my pathetic life for a few minutes? Don’t be. I should be apologizing to you for leaving you hanging.”

Blake sighed, shifting positions. “I’m definitely not hanging.”

Ali choked on her laugh. “I’m sorry,” she laughed again. “I know it’s not funny but…”

He stood and pulled her against him. “You’re right, it’s not funny.” He pressed his hips against hers, allowing her to fully feel her effect on him. “And you’re gonna pay for this later. The very next time I get you alone.” He grinned evilly at her. “And I promise, you won’t regret it.”

She let him kiss her one last time before pushing him away. “I’ll hold you to that Cowboy. Now, help me find my gun.”

Ali got on her knees and started looking. Blake swallowed hard, holding a hand out to her. “Here, go get yourself together. I’ll look for it.”

She took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Besides, watching you crawl around on the floor is not going to get it found. It’s only gonna get us caught.”

She patted his chest, grinning, “Thanks.”

The door had barely closed behind her when the bus stopped beside the hotel. The front door to the bus opened and Flint entered. A young, bleach blonde followed close on his heels.

Praying that her face wasn’t nearly as flushed as it felt, she saluted her superior and greeted him. “Hey Flint.”

He nodded at her and looked around. “Where is Mr. Matson?”

Ali canted her head to the door behind her. “Changing his clothes, I believe.”

“Will you let him know we’re here and ready to go inside?”

Giving him a mental eye roll, she nodded. Knocking on Blake’s door, she called out, “Mr. Matson?” She could just see him rolling his eyes again. “Miss Morgan is here as well as my team leader.”

“Lieutenant!”

She turned quickly to see Flint moving towards her. “Yes sir?” she questioned, not knowing what could be wrong. Nothing that he can see, I don’t think…

“Where is your firearm? It’s not in it’s holster.

“Oh, well, you see…” she stalled.

Behind her, the door opened and Blake emerged, grinning. He held her gun up and announced, “I found it! It slid under the bed somehow.” Ali covered her face with both hands before Flint could glare at her. Looking at the faces surrounding him, Blake’s grin slid from his face. “What? What did I say?”

Holding one hand out and keeping the other across her eyes, she begged, “Hand it over, please? I’d rather shoot myself now rather than wait for the firing squad.”

Reluctantly, he handed it over. “Okay, if you’re sure, Cookie. Just try not to splatter your brains all over my bus. Okay? I just go it washed.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from her toes. Before long, she couldn’t quit giggling. Even knowing she was extremely close to getting into some very serious trouble, she couldn’t stop. Holstering her weapon, she sat heavily on the couch behind her and let go.

“Allyson?” Flint asked, half afraid.

“Yeah?” she gasped, looking up.

“Is there something you need to tell us?”

“No,” she began, wiping the tears from her eyes. “No, I don’t think there is.” And not that anyone here would believe me if I told them the truth anyway.

Flint flicked his gaze to Blake who stood calmly watching. “Are you sure?”

Blake shrugged. “Losta girls have lost their guns in my room. Seems to be a black hole or somethin’ in there.” He shrugged again and pushed past Flint and Leslie and exited the bus.

Leslie crossed her arms angrily, trying to decipher the reality of what had gone on. Deciding she ought to start with the source, she turned and stormed off the bus, searching for Blake, leaving Ali alone with Flint.

Flint cleared his throat. Ali’s giggles had started to subside finally. “So?”

“So what?”

“So, are you going to tell me how your gun wound up under his bed?”

“Do I have a choice?” she questioned rhetorically. “It slid off the dresser when the driver stopped at a red light.”

“And why was it on his dresser and not on your person?”

Ali shrugged, wondering how much trouble a little white lie could get her into. “He was curious what I was carrying. Seeing as he has quite the gun fetish, I gave it to him. He looked it over, and sat it down. The bus stopped, my gun went flying. He thought it more prudent for him to be the one crawling around on the floor of his bedroom looking for it rather than me.”

She sat quietly, as close to being at attention as she could get in her position. Flint studied her, noticing she met his gaze evenly, not flinching or reacting in any guilty manner. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t sleep with just anyone, especially a man with a girlfriend, but he was still undecided on how she felt about this particular man. “All right. I’m not so sure I believe you but I don’t have any reason not to. Get out and get inside.”

Standing quickly, she saluted and hustled out of the bus. Winking at Blake as she jogged by, she silently gave thanks. Here’s to the government for teaching me how to be such a skilled liar.

Missing Pieces

(April 25, 2007)

Feeling the vibration at her hip, she sighed. She pulled into the first open space and turned off the Jeep’s engine. Looking at the display, she sighed again. Ali hated to ignore Blake, but she wasn’t able to talk to him right now. Maybe later. After…

She looked out at the rolling green hills and shook her head. What could she say that she hadn’t already told him? Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the Jeep and headed for the sidewalk. Her phone sat in the console, still vibrating.

It was a pleasant day, a cool breeze was blowing in, causing her hair to float and tickle her nose. Smiling sadly, she remembered the way Dylan would brush her hair out of her face and laugh at her frustration. “Why don’t you just cut it?” he’d always ask.

“Because Thé would shoot me, that’s why.”

Dylan would just grin and shake his head.

Ali made her way back along the path she knew well by now. She could find the spot easily, either now in the spring, or later in the year, in October. Two of the four times a year she came here.

Coming up over the second hill, she veered off to the right, and stepped off the path. Kneeling before the brass plaque set in the ground, she closed her eyes and let the memories flood back.

“Hey Babe,” Thé called out, “come meet my new friend.”

Smiling, she stepped up to the passenger side of her lover’s blue Honda. Leaning into the window, she pulled the Tootsie Pop out of her mouth and smiled. “Hi. I’m Ali.”

“Hey, I’m Dylan. Nice to meetcha. What are you eating?” He eyed the sucker curiously.

“A raspberry Tootsie Pop. Wanna lick?”

“Um, no. I think I’ll pass.”

That was the day he fell in love with her. She’d never forget the look on his face when she offered to share her sucker.

A smile came to her face suddenly, remembering how he’d loved to tease her. A day didn’t go by that she didn’t see a sparkle in those dark eyes of his. Even through his Coke-bottle lenses. She was constantly the butt of all their jokes. The only girl in a clique of men.

Ali lifted her head and trailed her fingers along the raised lettering of his headstone. “Hey Dylan,” she whispered. “I was just thinkin’ how nice your hair looked for a Tuesday.” Her voice caught in her throat suddenly. “I hope you and Thé aren’t causing too much commotion with your birthday party today, wherever you are.”

Pain crashed against her heart again, reliving the scene along the highway where Dylan had died. The crumpled mass his red Toyota pickup had become. The glass. The blood. His glasses.

She reached into her shirt pocket and pulled them out, looking at them in amazement. She was still stunned that he’d managed to roll his little truck and yet, his ever-present glasses had been found yards from the crash site, unscathed. Not a scratch on them anywhere. They’d survived the horror of the night, but he hadn’t. She should have buried them with him, but she couldn’t part with them.

Being his only living ‘relatives’, she and Albie had decided to bury Dylan next to Thé, his best and closest friend in life. “I miss you, Dyl. Your silly, annoying laugh, your taco pizzas. I miss the way you played better pool the drunker you got, and the way Albie couldn’t ever beat you after that first beer. I miss being your little whippersnapper. I miss being part of the group. I miss sitting between you and Thé while you played your video games. I miss…”

The tears finally came. Her mind was a whirlwind of memories. Thé, Dylan, Albie and her. And many combinations of the four. They’d been inseparable until she’d left home for school. Albie remained behind until boot camp when he turned 18. Thé left not long afterwards. And Dylan had followed. He’d had no one but the three of them.

“Why am I the only one left?” she cried. “Thé betrayed me and died for it. Albie’s got Jo now and doesn’t need me anymore. But you, you never hurt anyone, Dyl. Why did you have to die too?”

“Your not the only one, Ali,” her brother whispered in her ear. “They left me too, remember? I’m here now, and I will be as long as I’m able. Jo will never come between us.”

“I know, Albie.” She leaned into the arm her brother offered her. “But, if I’m not the only one, why do I feel like I’m missing such a big piece of me?”

“Because you are. So am I. I loved them as much as you did. I cried for Thé just as I did for Dylan. No one but you ever understood that either.” He kissed her cheek, hating the rare sight of tears on her skin. “You will never fill the holes they’ve left in your heart. But you can still love. The trick is to fill in around the holes they left. And move on. I found ‘Zook to help me through losing Thé. And now I’ve got that goofy man of yours too.”

She let out a strangled laugh. “Dylan helped me through Thé’s death. And you, of course.” Wiping tears from her eyes, she looked at Thé’s grave beside her. “I miss him, too. Is that so horrible?”

Alpine shook his head. “No. And I’m sure Blake will understand when you tell him.” Ali looked up and opened her mouth but he stopped her. “He said you weren’t answering hour phone and was worried. I knew right where you’d be.” Giving her a hug, he whispered, “Go home to your husband and your son. If nothing else, Rory will make you happy again.” Albie stood and walked back down the path. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She nodded sadly, knowing her brother was right. But she still missed him. Them. She missed them both horribly. She traced her fingers across Dylan’s headstone one last time and put her hands on her thighs. The sunlight caught on her wedding band and winked at her. “Yeah, I know, Dyl. I found someone new. It took me eleven years, but I finally did it. Are you happy now?” She smiled down at him, remembering how he’d pushed and prodded at her to get out and date again. And how hard it had been on him to not be the one. “And you,” she shook her finger at her ex-husband’s grave. “You don’t get a say in the matter. Capiche?” A real smile teased at the corners of her mouth for the first time all day. “I still love you both and I always will. Blake’s a bit goofy, but he’s a good guy. I think you’d both have approved.”

Ali pushed herself to her feet and followed the path down to her Jeep. Climbing inside, she picked up her phone and shook her head. Eighteen missed calls. Every one from Blake. Dialing his number, she thought about how lucky she’d gotten lately. Knowing that at least one of the two of them were watching out for her.

“Hey Cowboy, sorry for not returning your calls. I had something I needed to do. But I’m here now, and I’m alive.”

Slip, slide, pathway down

Time