by Simon Archer
Now, about that name. She was obviously smart and full of questions, even if she was too shy to speak up about it. Looked like once you break that shell of hers, she’d talk your ear off trying to learn something. I was trying to be more creative than I was with Hopper, though she loved that name for herself. Still, I had to come up with something that clicked, you know?
“You want to take it from here?” Hopper asked me, putting an arm around my lower back.
“Oh, yeah,” I snapped out of my train of thought to focus. “Where were we again?”
“Right where your part begins.” She answered.
“Right!” I said triumphantly, looking at the new Bunny, “You’re about to learn a thing about a wonderful world of mysticism called Tennessee.”
Back home, I lived a pretty simple life. I was a bit of a local handyman, and I made a good living off helping people out with odd jobs. Cars, plumbing, heating, construction, moving, pest control, lumberjacking, you name it. You needed anything fixed, moved, lifted, shot, or just plain done right, you called Hank McCallum. While I tried to stick mainly to helping out in Forest Hills, people from all over the state would call me up in need of something. It was always pretty easy to get what I needed for a job; you could have called up someone from twenty miles out, barely knew them, and they’d give you the shirt off their backs in exchange for a kind gesture. If I was ever in a jam, I’d built up enough favors to get any help I needed for a job.
Plus, I wasn’t always paid in money, which was fine by me. For a while, I was a roamer, so I never really needed much from anybody. The reason why I stuck to Forest Hills was because of a man I helped out with his clogged toilets. Plumbing was shot to hell, but I was able to get the parts I needed to get it all running smoothly in no time. I wasn’t gonna charge a widower twenty years into retirement a dime, but that Mr. Pendansky insisted on paying me something. He had an old summer home he never used anymore that was free for me to have, and it would have been rude of me to turn that down after so much insisting on his part.
Boy, it really hadn’t been taken care of in a while, but that wasn’t a problem for me. The property was a good fifty acres of timber, and that was just the legal part of the property, so I had plenty to fix the place up. The place was pretty far from any markets, but I wasn’t aching for food. A few good traps here and there, plus some tactful use of my .700, and I was good for the year. I mostly used the leather for strips, so I didn’t worry about keeping the caliber low. It was a pretty simple life, and I was fine with it. I would admit, I was more than welcoming to the call to adventure when it came knocking after a while of that.
Never thought it’d come by way of saving a cosplayer in the woods, though.
I was out in those woods, on someone else’s property, getting rid of a grizzly bear that’d killed their daughter. It was sad business, but it had to be done sometimes. Yeah, I know grizzly hunting’s illegal in the states, but these were special circumstances, and I got a permit to let me go out there. Thing is, grizzlies don’t live in Tennessee, so it was mighty perplexing what had happened. Based on how chaotic its trail was, the poor thing was most likely poisoned by some assholes thinking they were slick archers, then didn’t even bother to finish the job. Probably couldn’t even tell what was two feet in front of him and had just been wandering all the way down here. This was more of a mercy thing than a hired hit. I wasn’t taking any pay for this.
I’d tracked the bear deep into this forest for a couple of days, and I’d finally caught up to it. Sure enough, the beast was wild as a forest fire, scratching up trees with its own head and swiping at nothing. I was hoping to be a lot farther away to make the shot, but this was the best I’d had of it so far, and it was getting too close to a nearby campsite for me to wait for another one. So, about forty or so yards away from it, I set up my shot on a hill above it and set my sight on it. Damn thing moved like a drunk fly, made it hard to keep a solid lock on a kill shot, but eventually, I lined up right for his heart.
Next thing I knew, something crashed into me, rolling me a dozen or so feet to the side as I wrestled with some strange force. I stopped the tumbling with an arm so I could get my bearings again and see what the hell happened. Turns out, the thing that hit me was the curviest woman I’d seen, dressed up in a maid outfit and wearing a pair of bunny ears on her head, who was now straddling me. Her face told me this was completely by accident.
But, I didn’t have the kind of time to untangle all of that just yet, what with the grizzly so close by. Luckily, my rifle had come along with me for a bit on the tumble, but unluckily, it didn’t stick around for the whole thing. And most unluckily, the bear heard the tumbling.
“Sorry about this, ma’am,” I said, pushing the poor girl off me as I moved to grab my rifle. I would have just used my Glock or my sawed-off shotgun, but a grizzly tends to laugh at the idea of being troubled by most pistols, and the grizzly-killing range of most shotguns is between ‘two-damn-close’ and ‘mauled and crushed to death.’ The beast roared as it fumed toward us, swerving like a sleeper on the highway as it snapped at nothing. It had all but closed the distance between us before I got the rifle in hand, lined up another shot, and put one right between the eyes. The great bear’s momentum carried it forward, pushing its body right up to about a couple feet away from the mystery girl. Altogether, it may have been one of the biggest grizzlies I’d seen, about as long as my pickup and maybe just as heavy.
Before I could take a breath to celebrate, the girl was clamoring onto me like she was drowning, clawing and scratching to get behind and hide.
“Please, Hare!” she pleaded with me. “Your musket, the Wolves! They’re right behind me!”
“Whoa, whoa, what wolves?” I asked her.
“There, right th--!” She pointed out into an empty forest. Squinting out, I thought that maybe I could have picked out some dogs far out into the distance. Nothing.
“Looks clear to me.” I said to her, “besides, most packs are much further north than here. You’re not running into any wolves today.”
“But I…” she searched the trees for these wolves she was talking about. Guessing she also found nothing, since she slumped down to the floor. “What happened to them?”
“Probably went up north with the rest of them,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “How long you been running, anyway? You aren’t dressed for forest work, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know,” she said, glancing out towards nothing, “I was just trying to keep the Wolves away, but they were so relentless. I thought they had me.”
“Looks like you lost them by a mile and a half,” I walked over to help the little lady up. “With all the nasty beasts out of the way, introductions are in order. Name’s Hank McCallum, at your service. What brings a lady of your…?”
I looked over her outfit again. Sure enough, I wasn’t hallucinating the maid’s outfit. Like any maid’s outfit, the bottom was never considered, and she didn’t wear any stockings to hide those defined and pearly thighs, like a marble sculpture colored like butter. Those legs could have gone for days if they weren’t stopped by the floor, and even exposed to the elements, they were strong as oak trunks. They were supported by her equally powerful hips, looking even more full by the tiny waist above them. She was as gifted above as below, though her top was attempting to keep that as contained as possible like a sports bra. God took His time with her arms, making them just as slender as they were toned. When I saw her face, though, I was thrown for a loop in the best of ways, my jaw dropping just from taking it in. How could such a smile, so innocent and soft, and such eyes, like a cloudless sky in August, ever have been subjected to being dragged out into a forest like this?
And why was she wearing bunny ears all the way out here?
“My lord?” the girl said to me, giving me a confused look, “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but are you well?”
“Oh!” I said, realizing I was staring and ogling like a schoolboy and his first gir
lie mag, and quickly looked away and grunted, hoping my red face didn’t give me away. “Sorry, ma’am. I was just, admiring the, uh, Good Lord’s craftsmanship of your…” Maybe, for now, I needed to keep such thoughts to myself. “Dress. Your dress. It’s got all the right. It’s very full in all of the, uh, its good craftsmanship.”
“Oh, yes, my master’s spinners are quite skilled in their…” She trailed off mid-thought as if she was remembering something. That something soured her face into a painful deep sorrow like I never could imagine.
I felt silly just standing there, not being able to help her. A big part of me was trying to stay polite and respect the lady’s personal space, like any gentleman would do. But it was plain as day she was hurting something awful in her heart. Maybe it was just because she was beyond gorgeous, and I’m a sucker for a pretty face. I don’t know, call me a softie, but there was some kind of connection between us I couldn’t quite explain, something that made me feel so close to her when I didn’t know anything about her. I guess an instinct just sort of kicked in as I embraced her in my arms. If I could’ve squeezed out some of that pain, just a little, I would’ve thought I did a good job. For all I know, she could have been thinking about spilled milk, but it didn’t matter to me. I just knew I needed to be there for her. It wasn’t long before she was putting her arms around me, too, and we just sat there for a moment.
“Lord McCallum, I’m so sorry!” the strange maid broke the silence, releasing her arms, “I didn’t mean to impose in the slightest! Please forgive this intrusion.”
“Honey, it is all alright,” I said to her, loosening my arms just enough to get us face to face, “Ain’t no lords in this forest you gotta worry about. We are way outside of your roleplaying zone by miles, at least. No muskets, lords, or wolves as far as the eye can see. Do you even know how far you’ve drifted?”
“Well, my lord, I was just at the estate…” she craned her neck around behind her, looking over both shoulders as she scanned the nearby forest, “Then I was chased by the wolves, and, then, somehow…” She retreated into herself like she was embarrassed about something.
“Hey, speak up, now,” I said to her softly, “Ain’t no shame in being lost. You’re in the Cherokee National Forest, darling. That help you out? Is this estate nearby?”
“Cherokee…” she started again, “… I don’t know where that is.” Tears dripped down her face.
“Ho, boy!” I said, wrapping her up tight in my arms again, “You are quite the lost little bunny, aren’t you?” It must have been a terrifying situation for her, and I was putting on a bit of a spirit to help her feel secure. “Where did you come from, anyway? Maybe I can give you a ride back. My truck’s a ways away, but it’ll take us where you need to go in a snap.”
She didn’t answer, just kept bawling into my shoulder as her arms clung to my sides. Good thing I was wearing layers, not that I minded in the least. Being a good crying shoulder was one of the many services I provided for others, along with quality hugs. Looked like she needed both of those right now. Soon, the bawling died down to crying, and the crying died down to weeping, then whimpering, and finally, she had gotten every tear out of her. As much as I could have stayed there for hours, there was an important matter at hand, so I checked on her to see how much longer she needed.
“You doing okay?” I looked down at her, pulling her chin up with a finger, “You think you can be alright for a little while?”
She nodded as she pressed her cheek against my palm.
“That’s my girl,” I said as I let her out of my embrace, “Now stand back. I’ve got to find a way to get this half-ton bear all the way to my truck before it starts stinking up. The Hurmansons will want to know this is done, and the state will want me to register this bad boy. We’ll get you back to your estate, don’t worry. I’ll just load this up first.”
Stretching my arms out in preparation to move this corpse over this little hill, I glanced over at the girl to see her blushing and avoiding eye contact with me. I had a little honeyglow of my own, hoping I didn’t overstep any bounds.
There was one bit of chivalry that I remembered when seeing her standing in the cold in barely anything. I slipped my arms out of the loops of my overalls so I could get to the buttons of my flannel, unbuttoning them and taking it off. I handed it over to her, only to see her staring at my bare chest with a loose jaw.
“Oh, Lord,” I pulled the front of my overalls up to cover my shame, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying nothing. I just wanted to give you some cover for your legs is all. Not that I don’t want to see them, they’re very fetching. I’m not trying to ogle, I swear! I just was thinking…” I composed myself before I completely transformed into a giant ass. “I was just thinking you might be cold. You can tie this around those, uh, those hips of yours.”
She said nothing. Absently taking the shirt from me, she continued to stare at my chest as I put the loops of my overalls back on. I wasn’t a slim guy, by any means, and maybe a little hairy, so I was sure she was pretty shocked to see all of that, especially without any warning. It wasn’t like I had a gut or anything; Lifting logs and hauling game every day kept the occasional snacks on the side from creeping up on me. My build just meant I was more likely to win a strongman competition than be a model. She blinked a couple of times, then looked up at me. Her tone took a complete turn as her eyes widened and she bowed her head,
“I wasn’t looking, my lord!” she said frantically, “Please forgive me! I was merely admiring the…”
She paused, looking at my chest again as I walked down to the bottom of the bear, her eyes tracking along.
“Craftsmanship!” she shouted, turning away from me, “of your overgarment. It’s all very well structured like I’ve never seen before.” She buried her face in the flannel. Maybe she wasn’t just shocked about me being shirtless.
Wiggling my arms and shaking my feet out, I prepped my back to support the bear while my legs lifted it up to the top of the hill. The incline was fairly shallow, making this more of a push than a lift. I did have some appreciation for my spine, so I was more than happy to have whatever help I got.
With a fair amount of traction and breathing, the bear finally crested over the top, resting on the higher flat ground with the bunny girl. She had my flannel tied around her waist and was wearing it like a floor-length skirt. I paused to take a quick break before the long journey of bear-moving. I’d never actually weighed how much I could lift, what with the lack of fancy gyms nearby, but I was sure that stunt proved I could compete with the best.
“Say,” I said between some breaths, “I never caught your name. What do I call you?”
“A housekeeper, my lord,” she said plainly, “I mean, I was…” She took on that sad look again.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, picking up that this was a sensitive topic, “Getting fired is scary stuff. Happened to me once, but my boss at the time was doing some shady business, and calling him out apparently wasn’t ‘good employee behavior.’ I wouldn’t worry about that too much. If you can’t go back to that ‘estate’ of yours, we can drop you off anywhere you need. Anyway, I was more curious about your name. What do you go by?”
“... I was a housekeeper, my lord,” she said again, looking at me with those blue eyes that could make anyone’s heart just melt.
“I’m not asking you about your job title, especially for a job title you don’t have anymore,” I said, walking up to her, “I could give a rat’s ass about what you did before unless you’re proud of it. I’m asking you what your name is. You have a name, don’t you?”
“I’m not a noble, my lord,” she said, “I’m just a slave to a household. My work is my title.”
“Why are you so committed to this ‘roleplay’ thing?” I asked her, looking at her maid’s dress. “Is this… is this more than roleplay for you? You’re not just a part of some billionaire’s crazy fantasy? Or are you part of a crazy billionaire’s fantasy?”
“
I was part of my lord’s household,” she started to explain, “but I overheard my master say that he wanted to kill me for having some sort of gift.”
“Jesus Christ!” I couldn’t help but let out. “What in the hell’s wrong with this guy?”
“He was angry with me, and it’s his right to do with me as he will.” The fear I saw in her eyes broke my heart, and this ‘master’ I’ve never met boiled my blood hotter than my gramma’s special chili.
“Nuh-uh, no,” I put the foot down, “That’s some horse crock. You don’t get to punish people just for having ‘gifts,’ I don’t care if you’re the goddamn President! Where the hell is this guy?”
“He, uh, he has an estate in Thumperton Port.”
“Now, I don’t claim to be a historically inclined or geographically gifted individual,” I said, still burning but confused all the same, “but I’m going to have to question whether that’s a real place or not.”
“It’s as real as this ‘Cherokee’ we’re in now.” She said to me, a puzzled look upon her. “Thumperton Port is the most popular city in Briarwood and a proud part of the whole of the Great Burrow.”
“Alright, now I know you’re trying to mess with me.” I said to her, “Where are you getting all of this from? With the ‘muskets’ and ‘lords and servants’ and the fake bunny ears…” I took a slight stroke of the ears as I mentioned them, and the girl let out a quiet moan. “Are you still hurt? Let me see.”
“No, no, my lord,” she said, a crimson to her face again, “I’m more than fine. My ears are just sensitive right now.”
“You’re telling me that your fake bunny ears are sensitive?” I said, to which she gave me a fairly blank stare. I eyed her suspiciously, stroking up the long ear once again, but for a couple of moments longer. With the longer stroke, the moan was louder and much more primal than before. I’ve heard fake moans that a sexy ‘escort’ type might try to pull to make you feel confident. This was definitely not one of those. I put my hand near the top of her head.
