A Most Unusual Passage
Copyright© 2026 by J&J
Chapter 54
We dropped Marcus and Martha at their home. Martha invited us all to dinner, but I don’t think she really meant it. I know she was tired. I was pooped, and I’m quite a few years younger ... in body anyway.
“Home, Boss?” Fancy made a fair imitation of a dutiful chauffeur.
“I’m not sure. Maybe I need to go see Roger. I can’t imagine how he is taking all this.”
Fancy shook her head. “You ever been at the birth of a horse?”
“I’ve never even been there for the birth of a baby.”
“Well, it’s a pretty damn bloody, messy business and not the most romantic spot to greet your lover. Besides, Honey, if it’s still going on, he’d end up torn between paying attention to you and to her, and right now, she needs him more. If he’s done, he’ll be plumb tuckered out. I think you’d better settle for a phone call tonight.”
“Oh I know you’re right; damn, I could use one of his big bear hugs right now. I even miss his scent. Is that weird?”
Fancy laughed, “Hardly, dear; why do think so many women go around wearing their men’s shirts when they’re gone? Because it looks stylish? In a pig’s eye. They’re bathing themselves in pheromones. And your boy Roger must have some mighty powerful ones, from what I’ve seen.”
I looked over at her curiously. “And what exactly is it that you have seen?”
Fancy laughed with delight. “Lord, you’re so much fun, Honey; if you didn’t exist, I’d have to invent you. You’ve got no clue, do you? You’re the one he wants, and you don’t have the first frigging clue.”
I felt my face turning red, as my curiosity was replaced with exasperation. “Well, please, educate me, if I’m not too stupid to learn.”
“Easy, gal! It’s no insult. Your basic innocence is what makes you such a delight, and I’m sure it’s a big part of the reason Roger loves you. So don’t get huffy ... and don’t ever change.”
“Well, thanks, I guess,” I said, slightly mollified. “But I still wish I knew what the hell you’re going on about.”
“Pheromones, sex appeal, that’s what. Why some guys make you wet, and others are just all wet. Tell me, Elizabeth, do you think Roger is handsome?”
“Sure, he’s a nice looking man. Not movie star material or anything, but he’s nice enough looking.”
“Best looking man you’ve ever gone out with?”
“Honestly, no, but he’s pretty high on the list.”
“Is he hot?”
“Oh, God, yes! The first time I met him, I wanted to hop his bones. No man has ever attracted me like he does. Even before I knew what a great guy he is, my ovaries were shouting, YES.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, gal, pure sex appeal. You think you’re the only one who responds to him this way?”
“I’ve never really thought about it. But I guess I wouldn’t be too surprised to hear he had other admirers.”
“Would you be surprised to hear it includes just about everybody in a skirt in Washington County?”
“Come on, Fancy,” I exclaimed. “Now that’s nonsense.”
“You think so? Trust me, Honey. When he comes over on that science swap, I’m surprised the windows don’t pop out from the heavy breathing. That man could go through that school and pick any female there, and she’d go with him in a heartbeat. And I’m talking faculty and students, married and single, young and old. That man has got it, and you and he are about the only two who don’t seem to know it.”
“Are you trying to tell me I have rivals?”
“Yes and no. If you drop the ball on this one, are there others who would try for the rebound? Hell, yes! Roger would be lucky not to get trampled in the stampede. Would he give a single one of them a second glance? Not a chance. That boy has eyes for you and you only. And according to his mom, this has never happened to him before.”
We had arrived at Fancy’s small but beautifully-kept home. It was painted in bright fresh colors which seemed to reflect its owner’s personality. She started to get out, and I stopped her. “Fancy, why are you telling me all this?”
“Just making conversation, I guess.”
“Bullshit, Fancy! Don’t try to pull that crap on me. You are one of the most intelligent women I have ever met. Not one word passes your lips without passing a full dress inspection first. You are trying to tell me something. I just want to know what it is.”
“OK, fair enough. I just wanted you to know where you and Roger stand, because I wasn’t sure you really understood, and I also wasn’t sure Roger would ever tell you.”
“You’re telling me I should stay here because of Roger?”
Fancy shook her head. “Nope, I’m not telling you what to do. But before you decide, I just wanted you to know what’s what.”
“But you think I should stay because of him?”
“What I think doesn’t matter. And if you find you have to give Roger up; so be it. Just wanted you to know what you’re giving up. All decisions are your job, not mine or anybody else’s.”
“Fancy, if you want the job, it’s yours. I don’t like it, and I’m not sure I’m any good at it. I’m completely confused and frustrated.”
Fancy gave me a big hug. “No thanks; Honey, I know it’s tough. You don’t find either super guys or fantastic jobs growing on trees.” “Or friends who will help me decide or keep me from making a huge mistake,” I added petulantly. “Everyone is being so damned careful about letting me decide for myself that I believe they would stand around and watch me completely fuck up my life and never say a word.”
“Not me Babe, I don’t play that. I’m all for letting people run their own lives but not ruin them without trying to help. Look, I wouldn’t let you drive drunk would I? I hope you can sort this decision out for yourself, but if I honestly think you are getting it seriously wrong, you’ll hear from me and I’m not above kicking your ass if necessary.”
“Are you serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack, Honey. I once let a friend down by being too polite to tell her what I really thought of this guy she was moving in with. Then when he started abusing her I didn’t want to butt in. Then he beat her to death and I realized I had utterly failed as a friend.”
“She might not have listened anyway, you know,” I said.
“Yes, that’s possible and that would have been her fault. But she never had a chance to listen because I never said anything. And that made it my fault. I swore I would never stand idly by and let a friend down again.”
I thought about what Fancy had said as I drove home. Of course the perfect solution was simple; I wanted both Roger and the job. But that was not an option. I decided to call Roger as late as possible. Maybe that would give me time to think what to say. I wanted to be able to reassure him and myself, but I didn’t know how I could do that.
I unpacked, took a hot shower and stretched out to think about what I wanted to say. I didn’t have long, because it would soon be too late to call...
I opened my eyes. I felt disoriented. I was supposed to call someone ... Roger, oh my God, I needed to call Roger. Clock, where was a clock. My eyes focused slowly on the alarm clock... 3... 3:50. Oh, my God, I didn’t even call him. What would he think? What could he think? Should I call? Yes, better to wake him than have him think I cared so little. I reached for the phone. No, no, I might wake his mother. But wait, didn’t Roger mention that his mother’s bedroom was in the other wing, and she didn’t have a phone there, because if she were awakened, she couldn’t get back to sleep? Yes, I remember. I dialed the number, but just as it started to ring, I lost my nerve and hung up. Oh damn, I was acting like a twelve year old. I’d just drive out to his house first thing in the morning and explain. I carefully set my alarm and lay back down ... and stared at my ceiling for the next few hours.
I finally gave up and got out of bed. The sun was going to be up soon. It was putting on a particularly vivid display, as if to rub it in that we just don’t get skies like this in the thick humid air of the Low Country. Odds were good Roger would be up and about by now. A call? No, too late for a phone call. Better go in person.
My first instinct was to throw on anything I could get my hands on and head straight for the car, but passing my mirror dissuaded me. I looked a wreck. Not at all the image he had, hopefully, been dreaming about. Besides, I had an appointment with a certain young poet and her family, and odds were I wouldn’t get back here to freshen up. No way was I going to face Sylvia’s dad looking like an unmade bed. I turned around and did the whole girly thing, but in a time that will likely be my lifetime best. I picked out the pretty western skirt and one of the blouses from my expedition to Denver with Martha. I smiled, remembering the delightful day we had spent together. And I remembered the less pleasant surprise that awaited our return. I was wearing one of the blouses that had cradled Marcus’s head that night. Quickly, I shook that memory off, like a dog coming in from the rain.
Although there was joy embedded in all the worry and pain of that time. I recalled, still half in disbelief, the huge turnout of townsfolk who drove through the night because a hero, a mentor and a friend was hurt, and they just felt the need to be near him. A different world from the one in which Janice Grant was facing death completely alone. I shivered at the thought. What worse nightmare could there be than facing that vast void at the end of your days, with nobody caring enough to be at your side? What path had taken her through decades, surrounded by young life, but left her in the end forgotten? Where were the hundreds of girls whose lives she had touched? Where were her colleagues? Was she in some way so flawed she drove them all away? I didn’t believe that for a minute. Could it be we are all disposable, like a broken toy from last Christmas? Once the center of attention, admired by all, but just as quickly forgotten and discarded?
I wasn’t sure why such miserable thoughts were entering my head on a day that promised great happiness. Was it perhaps lack of sleep? Or was my mind providing a slave, riding on the back of my chariot, whispering that happiness, like wealth and power, can be ephemeral? Warning enough to get me rushing to board that chariot and get to Roger’s farm. Roger’s deserted farm, for there was no sign of him or his mother.
I drove away unhappily, trying to reassure myself he would have been there waiting for me, if some urgent business hadn’t called him away. Perhaps he had get supplies for the new arrival. But why didn’t he leave me a note? Oh crap! Why hadn’t I left him a note? I started to go back, when I had a sudden flash. Marcus and Martha! Of course! I knew he would be there.
But as I drove up to Marcus’ Mountain, as I called it to tease him, that rise overlooking his farm where he stopped every evening, I could see the whole driveway and behind the stable, and there was no sign of Roger’s truck. There was also nothing to indicate whether Martha and Marcus were up. Normally, I would assume they were, but the trip must have been extremely tiring for them. It was easy to forget their real ages, but even good health and high spirits couldn’t always triumph over the weight of years. I decided not to disturb them. Just one more bad call, in a series I was busily stringing together.
My house! That’s where he’d be. Waiting at my house, and wondering where the hell I am.
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