“So, I’m going to prepare you, right now. He’s going to let you go...” Sam starts, a different tone seeping into his voice.
“Say what?” I throw an arm up to tickle Frank’s shoulder, his back leg starts to quiver. His wet nose smudges at my cheek.
Sam indicates the area covered by Nathan’s hat. “Well, obviously since he’s seen this, he will decide to back off gracefully.”
I shake my head in disbelief, boys and their misguided thoughts of what is important. I open my mouth to let him have it.
But Sam gets in first. “But tell him you’re not my type and to get at it.” He smiles at my open mouth and flings his hands in the air in a pacifying gesture. “Av, you’re hot and all but... we are more friend material.”
“Friend material,” I repeat dumbly to Frank who sniffs reproachfully, forever on my side. Sam starts dusting himself off, his mottled body colours of red and pale white seem to merge into his normal tan.
“Sam, I think the lack of oxygen has given you brain damage,” I pull at Frank’s ears.
“Nope,” Sam crawls to his feet. Frank bestows me with a lick right up the side of my face. “I dislike the guy, immensely, but even I’m going to feel sorry for him when he rocks up and goes in for a pash.”
I’m lost, on uneven footing. I have no idea what the hell he is talking about. “What? Why?” I cross my arms and Frank licks me again, his tongue loosens some of my hair. I point at Sam this time. “Oh, I see, you’re annoyed because you had to what? Run the whole way? Now you’re trying to annoy me. Nice try, Boof.”
“Poor Noah,” he quips back.
“I’m going to open this gate,” move toward the latch and Frank pushes behind me. Ready.
“No, no, no,” Sam waves his free hand frantically. “You’re taking it all wrong. I’m just trying to explain. I like girls that, you know, brush their hair,” he surveys me and swallows, “at least, like once every two months and girls that have ... clean faces. Av, you are a bonafide grub. So, I know it’s going to kill you but... just be happy that we will be friends, okay? Don’t get jealous of the magazine photos, you can keep that one of your phone.” He grins getting right into this now, his skin losing the paleness and his cheeks showing more of a normal skin tone.
I pout, playing along, hiding the sneaky movement my hand is now performing, Sam is just trying obviously to rid himself of the thought that he almost died. I’ll give him something to take his mind off it even more. I move my fingers in between Frank’s teeth and cheeks and grab out a wad of saliva laden grass.
“What about a hug then?” I give him my puppy dogs eyes, “since you hurt my feelings? A bonefide grub?”
He eyes me for a moment, and I think to myself if I have ever seen Sam dirty, like now... well like before... he has meticulously rid himself of all grass and dirt bits.
“If it will make you happy,” he rolls his eyes. “But on my side of the fence and without the drool pit.”
I kiss Frankie on the nose, “Start walking off, he can go through this fence.”
Sam would win the Olympic walking race with his ‘casual’ walk off.
When I catch up to him, on his side of the fence, we are almost back to the others.
“I don’t know what I did to D that made her want to actually kill me,” he admits under his breath. “I have been really trying.”
“I don’t think she really knew what she was asking,” I walk side by side with him. “I’ll talk to her, but she was crying. She must have maybe felt really angry for Harry and just blurted it as payback for all the wrongs of the world.”
Sam looks perplexed. “I am really sorry for all that,” he states softly.
“Are you sorry for calling me a grub?” I bump him.
“Nope,” he smiles. “Honestly, your face looks like you’ve got on one of those peel off masks my mother puts on, but it’s not cucumber it’s bull lick!” his face contorts.
“So, no kiss or hug?” I pout again, squeezing the mass of droolly grass in my hand.
“Hug only,” he caves and moves in. I wait a few seconds about to raise my arm about to splat and slather his pristine skin with cow drool when I hear a snarl behind me.
“Well, I’m glad I made it in time for the killing part,” Noah’s voice growls. “I’ll be happy to take the lead on this one.”
Nathan chuckles, the girls trill, Sam tenses and pushes me around and holds me in front of him.
Noah’s eyes gleam as he roves over my body and then Sam’s hands on my shoulders. Sam drops them instantly. Noah’s body undergoes a transformation, the blood pumps to his muscles as he advances. Nathan watches with interest, but I know that is where the trouble will start because Sam is now my brother’s friend. We can’t enter that field.
“Noah,” I start with an evil smile, “you have to learn that killing is the boring part, it’s the torture that brings satisfaction!”
With that, I turn and mash the sticky, dripping tennis sized ball of saliva infused crushed grass all over Sam’s face.
Just like with two bulls
Avalon
Sam’s incessant screaming and crazy dance halt Noah enough in his advance to give me some time to think. Sometimes, not often if we can help it, two bulls find themselves in the same paddock. It’s not good, older ones like Frank don’t tolerate another’s presence at all. It can end in death or mortal-type wounds.
I remember when I was a bit younger there was a bull that blundered into our property after a chopper muster on the neighbour’s property, it found its way over to our Brangus bull’s territory and it was only luck that Dad and I were there checking out the cattle.
Dad commanded that we move the cattle ASAP, get them really moving so that the two bulls forgot each other and focused only on their attempt to move off. We made them have a common goal until we could cut out the intruder safely.
Noah moves beside me and stows me deftly behind his back as Sam recovers from his OCD wipe down, both of them eye each other, the rest teeter backwards except for Nathan, Pop, Harry and Flea. The girls ogle Sam and Noah in equal measures. Noah’s back captures my attention for a moment, and I sneakily glide my hand up under his shirt to feel those lovely bumps of muscle marred by the lines of stitches. Noah swallows.
Sam’s eyes betray his body, and I catch the flicker of fear there. Nathan merely checks to make sure I’m out of the way of danger, outwardly appearing bored.
I’m not down with this, Nathan’s glance at me tells me he senses it. I don’t want to have to worry about who I’m with or what I’m doing... or Noah to worry about it either. I’d love Sam and Noah to discover that maybe they could actually like each other.
I deftly step around Noah whose arm tries to catch me but misses... just. His skin tickles my arm and causes a delightful shiver to course down the length of my limb. He smells like the ocean. I’m suddenly returned to the hospital bed and our experiment. I’m almost, kind of, wishing we were there now.
“You guys want blood for this stupid feud, but we,” I gesture to everybody, “want entertainment. And we, my friends, are more important. Numbers.” I add with a superior smile at Sam’s scowl.
“And we want that entertainment in the form of blood,” Nat interjects dryly.
“Not exactly,” I wink at Noah, an idea forming in my mind. “We want it in the form of My stairway to heaven test.”
Quiet reigns, Nathan’s eyebrows draw closer, we play this at home, not quite this exact version as I have decided to make it tougher for these boofheads. Tough times bring on bonding way faster.
Nathan steps in between, “It’s ‘Stairway to Glory’... not heaven.” He stares at the two boys. “Get that straight, right now.”
I scoff and wave the distinction off, “No difference.”
Sam waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, there’s a difference, sweet cheeks,” he winks at me and while I know he’s thinking of Frank’s tongue, Noah doesn’t.
His muscles flex ominously.
“
Are you in for this fruity game of final, one and for all, glory?” I ask them seriously.
Noah obviously wants the blood; I kick him in the shins as he seriously is about to shake his head. If he can do the Grim Reaper thing, he can do this.
He bats my foot away, as he continues to stare at Sam. “Fine,” I huff, “for your impertinence, I will call on my unbiased persuader... Siiiirrrrr Frank Colossal ... In three... two...o-”
He sighs loudly and nods curtly, eyes incredulous that I would stoop to such a low to get my way. Actually, Frank is used quite a bit to get my way at home, I don’t think there has been anytime that I’ve even caught a glimpse of the bottom of my low.
“Sam?” I turn to him face overly smiley. “Will you be joining us, or do you need to be also.... gently... persuaded?”
“Fruit has immoral connotations between two men,” he scrunches the hat slightly over his lower part in a defensive gesture. “Especially, between us. Don’t think that shit will ever work, in any scenario or situation.”
“What?” I screw up my face not knowing what he is talking about. “You count yourself as a man?”
He just stares at me. I shrug.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the two latest contestants vying for one free ‘get out of being opened up like a tin can with a knife by Frank and Avalon’ card. Noah and Sam! These two amazing, social butterflies of contestants will battle it out to reach the top of our course and hold up the golden ...?” I turn to Nathan who is grinning now too.
“Beer,” he smiles playfully.
“Beer,” I nod in affirmation. “And be the ultimate winner of this ridiculous man feud. The loser must bow and kiss the knees of the winner and both participants must forever only think luscious and unicorn type thoughts of each other.”
Both Sam and Noah’s faces echo pure horror.
“My architects will now go and create the course, under my head supervisor,” I signal at Nat, “while the contestants suit up.”
Two sets of eyes swing to me.
“Unicorn type thoughts?” Sam grinds out, outraged.
“Suit up?” Noah asks. His green eyes survey me in a way that heralds the fact that he’s only going to be able to play along with this for a limited time. I don’t really get it and later, we will be talking about this. Sam is my friend. Maybe it’s because of Seth? There is probably a lot of history I don’t have any inkling of. But still.
Sam swallows at Noah’s voice, it’s probably the first day he’s ever heard it. It certainly does things to me.
“Because you have different body types, I’m going to try to even things out. Noah, you’ll be the apple and Sam; you’ll be the carrot.”
“What the actual?” Sam growls, hazel eyes narrowing.
“One’s a vegetable,” Noah raises an eyebrow letting the green of his eye lighten slightly. “Sam may as well get the practice in being one because that’s what he will permanently be after this.”
Noah’s voice is as sharp as my knife and Sam’s lip curls back in response. Having Noah verbal clearly throws Sam and the sinister smile that blooms on my monster’s face displays he has cashed in this knowledge.
“Sorry, Sammie Bear,” I wink at him. “It’s like a kid who’s finally able to ride a bike... he just won’t shut up! We probably will have to gag him for the whole grave rob, or he’ll end up waking the dead. Which could actually be handy and save us a lot of trouble. We may have a stab at that.”
Noah smiles again, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that the need to dig a grave will be void as I’ll be happy to peg his weighted body off a certain cliff.” He shrugs. “No need to hide it when the sharks devour it.” I instantly think back to our night in the tent. Warmth assails me again. Bloody octopus. Think of baby watermelons!
Sam laughs lowly, “You’re out of the loop, smartass. Must be hard knowing I know more about your girl than you do.”
Gawd, Sam is like that one dog that never listens and always goes in for the kill at the head of the snake.
Noah laughs, it’s a laugh that even Nat’s voice turned all evil by the Reaper outfit couldn’t match, it chills me to the bone and causes Nathan to glance up from the two bales of hay he’s hauling off the packed tractor. He pauses and watches for a second before throwing the bales down to Wade. Wade backs off as they hurtle toward him. Sam takes an unconscious step back at it, clearly again, taken aback by a verbal Noah.
“I hope the knowledge brings you comfort as you’re sinking down through the depths,” Noah says so quietly that the hairs on my arms rise. “The shapes starting to loom in your vision.”
Sam gulps again. Whoa, Noah sounds like me. It’s kind of hot realising how softly and gently Noah speaks to me.
Harry plonks the two suits D lovingly made down in the middle of the two. It’s quite tense between their glares. The apple teeters for second before stilling.
“Put ‘em on,” Harry says with a tone that contains no hint of a leeway.
It’s one of those times that mere seconds feel like looooong dragging hours, it honestly feels like at least six minutes and takes me starting to caress my knife and glance towards Frank’s gate a ton of times before they concede and move towards their allocated costume. Neither are happy. So far Noah has pretty much gone along with all my crazy shenanigans, but right now he looks like he could shred that apple into a million pieces with brain fury alone. His jaw is clenched tightly. I wonder if I could get away with more?
Flea throws Sam his clothes, “Wear your undies, boy. You never know what carrots get up to in the dark of the night.”
Finally, they get dressed. And the anger that permeated the air is at least intensified by 15678 times.
I’m hell relieved when Nat calls out, “Slug guts, she’s ready.”
I smile widely. “Let’s go, fruitcakes.” I try to give Noah a peck on the cheek but am bounced back from the roundness of the apple. Least he looks at me with softness in his green eyes that match the apple perfectly.
The stairway to glory was created back home after we watched this game show from somewhere in Asia where the contestants have to get to the top of these slippery stairs to press the buzzer. It was so funny; every time one would almost reach it, they would slip and knock everyone else out making their way up.
One night, Nat and I challenged the hands to a game of it, we all made a massive staircase out of hay and covered it with a couple of Double B tarps. Daryl went off his rocker when he discovered we used six months’ supply of dishwashing liquid and Dad also let loose when we looted the glycerin supply. Daryl made us wash up the whole kitchen with toothbrushes every night for a week - that was when we discovered his secret stock holds of loot – he has never used that punishment again. It was the best fun ever, until the next day when everyone was so incredibly sore it hurt to even think about taking a breath. Dad then made us do extra work, but it was worth it. I overheard dad telling someone on the phone about it about a fortnight later, cracking up so badly he couldn’t bloody tell the story.
“Holy fuck,” Sam breathes looking up at the hay steps, at least fifteen bales high, covered in the plastic I used at the beach for the slide and a long blue tarp. Nat and Chops obviously having run the bales up the top or pulled them out through the top of the shed the whole thing is leaning against. Chops is sitting next to the pump set-up in the big trough, bubbles starting to boil from its depths as the water circulates the course. D perched next to him is blowing handfuls of bubbles into the sky. She looks so pretty, like an advert for a milk that makes you just so… good hearted.
A lone beer sits at the top. Not surprisingly, Outlaw is focused on it, long neck stretched and lips miming the movement he will do when he is near one.
Noah and Sam risk their first glance at each other that is not full of venom.
Ah huh, my plan is already working.
Steep descent
Avalon
Everyone is absolutely stuffed, except Nat and Chops. I follow D�
��s wilting movement on the trough to where the other girls are flopped on the ground next to Wade and Jaime all with red, sweaty faces and hair in stringy clumps. I stare up at the tarped staircase leaning against the shed wall and raise an eyebrow at Sam, who is also gawking up at it, not with the same appreciation as me, but still...
“Hey, get a load of these guys,” I flourish a hand at the panting members of the human species sprawled over the dirt. “You should think about moving your lady’s fitness group out here for a bit. We could really get some work done and get them fit at the same time.”
Nat pushes off from his position on the side of the tractor that hauled the hay out, to go about checking heartrates of the prone figures. “Oh yeah,” he grins at me. “We could really get some pulse rates elevated.” He nods slightly toward Pop, Harry and Flea with a cheeky gleam in his eye. “We could take them on tour!”
Sam groans, but he doesn’t understand Nathan’s comment like I do. A bunch of ladies coming to your farm to help and work would be awesome, but the change, the diversion, the conversation, the laughter and companionship could literally save a farmer’s life. My eyes, just as Nat’s do, flick toward the group of older men, assessing the skin tone, the liveliness of their speech, their eyes and the smiles on their face. What that could do for others.
“I think a tour would be bloody brilliant,” I say in agreement stowing the idea away.
Sam groans even louder, more savagely. Noah reacts to it and rises on the balls of his feet, fists clenching.
“Righto, crappo carrot,” I sigh. “Let’s get this food fight off the table.”
The others sit up at this and the men move closer.
Nat jumps on to one side of the hay retaining the water like a pool at the bottom. “Crappo carrot, jump in here,” he says pointing. “Atrocious Apple, here’s your starting point.”
Noah and Sam cannot jump, they can only manage a weird waddle. Nat picks up Sam and dumps him over, he doesn’t listen to Noah and whacks him into a roll and spins him over the side. I cackle under my breath because Noah is clearly not used to being rolled, I write that in a must do more often note in my mental notebook. Being thrown into dams, troughs and puddles have done wonders in fostering my breathtaking personality to where it stands proudly today.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 35
