Hairy Roadtrip
Copyright© 2017 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 11
Yes! Her! And she SAW me!
Shit fuzzy and fall back in it!
Through the double pane glass ... even over the throb of the turbo prop on the other side of the plane, I heard her screech.
“David!” Wendy said, “You came!”
She took off running, burst through the door ... and knocked me flat on my back...
“How did you know I was coming?”
The kisses were spaced between the words so unless you knew what she was going to say before she said it ... it wasn’t going to make a bit of sense.
I knew.
However, Karen didn’t know. All she knew was some old hussy ... had knocked her man flat ... was kissing the heck out of him. She wasn’t having any of that.
She reached out ... did you know my sweet little guitar player has instant claws ... the illusion was grizzly bear paws ... razor sharp and five inches long.
Made me wonder how she played guitar with those razors.
“Karen! No!” I said. There wasn’t anything for it, “This is Wendy Austin ... my wife.”
Karen stopped... “Wife, eh?”
Wendy beamed.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
<Complicated, > said the Watchers. <You could call it that.>
For the first time ... I saw a blur near the voices. Nothing solid ... but still there.
<Shit! He saw.>
“Ok ... you guys explain it.” Oops ... out loud. Heck and shuckydarn. But ... explain it they did. I saw what they told Karen and Wendy did too. In living color ... with subtitles and the Directors comments running in the background.
The accident ... the rescue ... the collision with the door and floor ... the mess at the hospital ... my flight ... Wendy’s flight ... it all came out while we were sitting in the folding metal chairs in the lobby of that 1950’s brick one story building laughingly called the Sheridan County tower.
They finished.
A long pause ensued.
Longer.
Longer.
Still not long enough.
Oops.
Too long.
And Karen said, “So ... she’s NOT really your wife.”
“You got it,” I said.
Wendy said, “Except in Colorado ... in Colorado ... he’s mine.”
“That’s easy,” She turned to me, “Hairy, stay out of Colorado.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So polite is my Hairy,” she said, directing the comment and the evil grin at Wendy.
“So where do we live?” Wendy asked.
“I have a log cabin on Wolf Creek,” I said.
<This is going to be fun.> <You think?> <Yup>
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