Chapter 17: Mutton Busting

Charity stepped out of the Keep into the sunny Baily to find her sitting on a nearby boulder, hyperventilating and hugging herself. She handed her the boots she had left behind in her rush to leave. “Are you okay?” she asked calmly.

Celeste didn’t reply at first as she rocked back and forth. Then she grabbed the boots and shoved her feet into them before standing and storming across the small clearing toward the open gateway. “No!” she hissed, infuriated. “I’m not okay!”

Charity had to skip ahead to catch up with the distraught girl as she strode out of the castle on the dirt path.

“I feel dirty! Ashamed!” she sputtered as she stomped over the worn track. An errant stone appeared, and she kicked it spitefully.

Charity walked silently beside her while she vented her wrath against twigs and rocks in her way. She steered the despondent girl left at a fork in the path, avoiding the village and descending towards the north coast where the sea glittered in the sunlight. Reaching the rocky shore above the narrow pebble-strewn beach took them twenty minutes. They carefully climbed down the Craig until their boots crunched on the smooth, glistening pebbles. Small waves splashed toward them as they stood side by side and peered out to sea.

“Never seen two people having sex before?” Charity asked plainly. “Thumbed through the naughty magazines under Dad’s bed? Talked Billy into showing his willy behind the cafeteria?”

Celeste spun around angrily and opened her mouth to release a litany of curses and disparaging remarks. Then, a distant memory from her early childhood flashed into her mind. Her mouth snapped shut, and her face colored.

“Mmm-hmm,” the other girl mumbled knowingly. “Tell me about it,” she suggested, lowering her bag onto the beach and sitting on the small pebbled layer.

Celeste dropped heavily beside her with an exasperated sigh, “I ... I can’t.” She stammered, swallowing nervously. Good God ... the scandal if it got out! She shuddered as her mind raced back nearly a decade...

Noises piqued her eight-year-old curiosity. Still reserved after her father’s death, she sought the company of the one woman who understood her loneliness without judgment. The youngest chambermaid, Valery Evans, often tended to the children. But Celeste’s curiosity turned to shock when she snuck into Valery’s room and heard her with two older men. Sensing their approach, Celeste hid behind the rows of hanging garments in the wardrobe. For nearly an hour, she watched in shock as the men undressed Valery and engaged in a shocking scene. They poked her from both ends while she posed between them on her hands and knees.

“Earth to Celeste.”

She blinked and shook the memory away like an errant cobweb. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She accepted the can of Lipton iced tea, cracked the tab, and took a drink.

“That was some deep introspection,” Charity said as she sat beside her, sipping her drink. “I hope your first time wasn’t as painful as mine.”

“What?” the blonde gasped, nearly choking. “You think I...? No!” she shook her head vigorously. “I assure you my maidenhead is very much intact! Thank you! I’m as pure as morning snow.”

Charity grinned. “Well, pardon me.”

“But you...?” the girl balked. “Have you ... really? And it—”

“Was something I’d rather forget,” Charity interrupted, taking another drink. “I hope it’s not as awful for you when the time comes. Certainly not like...”

“Like what?” Celeste demanded, facing her with crossed legs.

“Oh, come on!” Charity retorted. “Surely, you’ve experimented down there? Rubbed one off ... flicked the bean?” She grunted in disbelief at the other girl’s incredulous expression and burning red cheeks. “Haven’t you ever masturbated? God! Who are you? Lady Diana? Mother Teresa?”

“I’m most certainly not...!”

The Native American girl smiled at her sideways, “So you have—”

“Oh God! Shut up!” Celeste burst, blushing furiously. “How can you talk so flippantly about such things?”

Charity pushed her tea can into the pebbles to prevent spilling and faced the other girl, crossing her own legs. She took Celeste’s hands and gazed calmly into her emotional eyes, “Because I wasn’t raised to view our sexuality as taboo and awkward.”

The blonde girl took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to collect herself as she blinked back at the pretty brown girl.

“Love and sex are as natural to us as our fingers and toes,” she continued. “By playing with ourselves, we begin to understand our bodies and experience sexual pleasure.” She squeezed the other girl’s hands tightly. “Can you imagine it any other way? I mean ... what if the first time we touched ourselves sexually, it hurt or made us feel sick? How likely would we propagate humanity? We wouldn’t feel attraction, fall in love, or seek pleasure from the body of another. We’d never want to have children.”

“Perhaps. But are the two mutually exclusive?” Celeste asked with a pained expression, “With more than one ... partner?”

“You mean Kathy and Lenna? I can most assuredly say it’s even more incredible ... based on my observations.”

“But Kathy is his wife! How does that make Lenna feel?”

“Like his other wife,” Charity replied calmly. “Polyamorous relationships aren’t taboo in my culture,” she explained. “And you can bet your bottom farthing that Maggy is getting her share of the Peter pole too.” She held up both hands with fingers spread, “Did you know Geronimo had ten wives?”

The other girl gasped. “All at once?”

The Apache girl frowned. “I’m not sure about that. Some were killed fighting the Mexicans. I’ll have to check.”

Celeste gazed back at her, studying the depths of her milky brown eyes. “I wish I could be more like you,” she breathed heavily. The sun was high overhead, warming the area enough to remove their cloaks.

Charity laughed, “Me? Girl, I’d give anything to share your world!”

“No,” her friend murmured, shaking her head forlornly. “I wouldn’t wish that upon my enemies. Charity, you are so ... alive with unhindered curiosity, and it’s beautiful. You’re wild and free like an unbroken stallion. You’re ignorant of our bourgeois society, and your innocence is endearing. I’ve seen the world through your eyes—if only for an instant, and it makes me feel even more trapped in a gilded cage...” Her eyes moistened, and she blinked away her tears. “To be seen and admired ... but never loved.”

“I love you.”

The words were simple and softly spoken, but their effect on the blonde English girl was profound. She shivered as a warm feeling appeared in her gut, causing her heart to flutter. She glanced back at the girl, who seemed larger than life, as she sat quietly before her. “Wh ... what do you mean?” she whispered.

Charity chose her words carefully before she spoke, “I mean that I have feelings for you that I can’t explain away as silly infatuation,” she said. “I know I love a lot, and when I love something—or someone—I am all in. But with you, it is something else. It’s way deeper.” She paused to lick her lips nervously. “I’ve never felt this vulnerable before ... like ... I am really putting my heart out there right now, and it’s kind of terrifying!”

Celeste felt her hands trembling as she squeezed them reassuringly. “Please tell me!” she begged.

“Every time I look at you, I see you again for the first time. And it takes my breath away,” the American girl stammered emotionally. “I want to be with you all the time. The thought of returning home tomorrow and being away from you is...” Her words were lost in a sob as she looked down at her lap and sniffed. When she raised her eyes again, they were flooded with tears that made Celeste choke back a cry of despair at her pain. “I don’t want to leave you!”

The blonde girl’s heart broke as she realized the depth of the other Charity’s feelings. She was equally traumatized by the prospect of being apart. “Oh God!” She wept, pulling the other girl to her. They embraced tightly, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. They fell sideways on the gravelly beach and lay silently together for several minutes. The closeness they shared was craved and savored. Their faces drew apart enough to gaze at each other through reddened eyes. “I love you too!” she said tearfully, touching the other girl’s tear-stained cheek. They lay quietly, opening their hearts while gazing into each other’s eyes.

“What do we do?” Charity asked, rolling onto her back to stare at the sky.

Celeste sniffed loudly, propping herself on her elbow. “We will call and speak whenever possible!” she declared firmly, touching the other girl’s face and sweeping her brown hair aside. “And we will write to one another constantly until...” she paused. A thought crossed her face as she frowned. “My insufferable uncles mentioned an upcoming trip to America. They were invited to a celebratory event this winter—”

“The Winter Solstice!” Charity exclaimed excitedly, raising herself on an elbow to mirror her friend. “It’s three days this year! I’ll be dancing at the Sunrise celebration for my bestie Felicity!”

“I will demand to go!” Celeste stated authoritatively. “They cannot refuse me.”

“Oh my gosh! It’ll be awesome to have you there!” The Apache girl was bursting with anticipation. “I hope you can stay longer.” She relaxed her arm and sank onto her back.

Celeste leaned over and peered into her eyes, “Me too.”

Charity pulled her blonde locks aside and gazed back at her with a longing expression. Without warning, she clasped the girl’s head and pulled her down until their lips kissed deeply.

The English girl’s eyes flew open wide with shock, and she gasped into the other girl’s mouth as she held them together. Then, something crumbled within her, and she sighed, releasing an ocean of pent-up hesitation. She collapsed atop the other girl and pressed her lips more firmly onto the native girl’s, eliciting a moan of contentment.

They were giddy and gushing with silly energy as they climbed the grassy plain toward the fishing village to the south. They paused atop a rise and marveled at the dozens of red-brown sheep grazing in the unfenced fields scattered across the wide grassland.

“Those are some big-ass sheep,” Charity remarked, holding tightly to her friend’s hand.

“There are hundreds of them,” the other girl remarked. “How can this tiny island sustain that much grazing?”

“It can’t,” the American replied. “That’s why Uncle Peter is going to pay a thousand pounds a head and take half of them back to Arizona, where they won’t worry about hunger.”

“A thousand a head? That’s more money than these people have ever seen!”

“I think that’s the general idea. He wants to provide them with an initial capital boost while they upgrade the fishing fleet and wool processing equipment.”

“We should give them a wide berth,” Celeste suggested worriedly as they veered up the hill toward the track that had led them to the castle. Several ewes were with one or more lambs nearby. “They can be protective of their babies.”

Charity released her hand and took out her Canon to take pictures. “I’d love to park here and draw this entire prairie,” she sighed. “But I’m starving!”

Celeste sighed in relief at her confession, secretly dreading another dull sketch session. “Right, let’s go!” she prompted, turning and marching up the slope.

Upon reaching the packed trail, they headed down the hill toward the coastal village near the island’s southern tip. On the opposite side, they saw the leveled and widened land where the twins had placed their golf course. Much of the landscaping was still underway, transforming the lush tundra from dark tall grass to vibrant green sod. Charity paused to capture several images. She turned about and peered through the tiny viewfinder.

“Hello, gorgeous!” she breathed.

Celeste turned to see her aiming her camera at a huge ram grazing nearby. It stood less than three yards away, and Celeste gasped at its size.

“Holy shit, that’s a big old boy!” Charity breathed, “Look at the balls on him!” The majestic animal seemed to carry a pair of small melons in a sack beneath its tail. She slipped her bag from her shoulder and handed it to the hesitant blonde. “Here, take this,” she said, handing the camera over as well.

“Charity?” Celeste moaned anxiously. “What are you doing?”

“I want to pat him!”

“Are you crazy!” she exclaimed harshly. The sheep raised his head and turned to gaze at them. The girls froze as it studied them without concern before returning to his lunch.

Charity giggled as she stepped closer to the beast. Its shoulders rose to her waist.

“Charity!” Celeste hissed. Panic struck her as her friend patted the thick reddish-brown coat. The animal jumped and moved away a foot without lifting its head from a delectable clump of grass. She called the girl’s name again.

Charity waved her off and studied the animal for several seconds. “Who’s a good boy?” she murmured to keep it from bolting.

“Okay,” Celeste moaned apprehensively. “You patted the damn thing! Now please...” her heart lurched as the Apache girl suddenly grabbed two handfuls of wool and swung onto the ram’s back. “Oh, holy mother of God!” she cried, jumping back.

The animal and its rider cried out simultaneously—the ram emitted a startled bleat while Charity hollered, “Whoopee!” at the top of her lungs. Celeste screeched in terror as the animal launched upward in a panicky attempt to dislodge the girl. It was a futile effort that only served to paint a wide grin on the native girl’s face. “Woohoo!” she cried as it spun about and tried to dislodge her with another leap.

“Charity!” her friend shrieked. “What are you doing?”

“We call it ‘Mutton Busting’ back home!” she replied, leaning forward and grabbing the animal’s ears tightly. “Whoa, boy!”

“That thing can kill you!” she cried frantically. “Get off it this instant!”

“If I do that, he will kill me!” she shot back with a wild grin. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed as it lunged across the dirt trail and bolted up the hill. “Here we go!” she yelled as her body was tossed about. Her cloak billowed behind her as they gained momentum. “Get a picture!” she called back, her voice fading.

Celeste gawked in disbelief as the ram and its uninvited rider stopped at the top of the rise and danced about momentarily. Charity’s cries of delight echoed back to her as she clung to the creature’s back. Then, it seemed to tip over like it would roll back down the hill. And the blonde girl’s heart froze in her throat as she tried to lift the camera to her eye.

“Oh no, you don’t, sweetheart!” Charity cried, pulling the animal’s ear and turning it away from its intended course. Then they charged down the hill, and Celeste mashed the shutter button as they raced by, Charity yelling, “Woohoo! Yip! Yip!”

“Charity!” Celeste cried as they barreled down the slope toward the grazing ewes. The other sheep looked up curiously at the ruckus. Only those near the flying pair looked concerned enough to amble away. She stared incredulously after her friend as she steered the witless beast to the right, curving back toward the village. Celeste found her feet and raced after them down the hill adjacent to the track.

“Charity!”

The dirt trail curved right, hiding the village as Celeste raced down, chasing her suicidal friend. It soon turned left, revealing the township closer. The track became a well-packed road with branches leading around the island. The English girl, frantic, searched the fields between the village and the grasslands. She saw the panicked ram running north from the hollow at the hill’s base, riderless. Her heart froze when she saw her friend’s crumpled form in the depression.