by Hammond, T.
I sighed, this was just so weird. “Red is able to project a thought or image of what he is seeing, into my mind. If he is looking at you, for example, he can project what he sees to me.”
At that point, my mind filled with an image of Janey staring down at Red. Then she looked up at me. “Seriously? That is so freakin’ cool, Teresa. So you can see me?”
“When he projects to me, yes. Like right now, he’s watching you and I can see you are wearing jeans, your Christmas sweater (a little early for that, don’t ya think?), and you have your hair in a ponytail.” Red switched his attention to a person I knew was Ken. Once, Janey had described him as a blond Keanu Reeves crossed with California surfer-dude. “I have to tell you, Janey, I think Ken looks more like a blond Orlando Bloom, especially with that cute goatee thing he’s sporting.”
“Holy Crap!” Ken perked up in his chair and stared at Red like he’d grown a second head. Errr, Red – not Ken. “Dude, you’re like a secret weapon now.” One thing I have to admit about Ken, he really plays to the vacuous blond-surfer stereotype, but there’s a sharp brain behind the shaggy mop of hair; Janey’s not just with him for his cute looks, this guy keeps her on her toes.
“Yep, we don’t plan to share this with the police department, although Gil knows. We are keeping it between the seven of us.” David’s voice was very serious, and since Red was still linked to me, I saw the intense, no nonsense look in his eyes as he stressed the importance of secrecy. “As Ken succinctly observed, this has the potential to be a huge tool in the Team Red arsenal. For Teresa and Red’s safety, we can’t let anyone else know about the vision sharing.”
My mind had drifted away from the conversation, when Red happened to glance over towards Bas. I got my first look at him in over twelve years. Oh. My. God. He was breath-taking. The years had been very good to him. He had always been a gym rat, his weight training program designed for a full body workout that bulked him up to about two hundred forty pounds of blond, sex god deliciousness. Yeah, I’m in love with David, but I’m not completely unaware of Bastian’s assets. Bas has a certain reputation, and looking at the man he’s grown into since I’d last seen him at twenty-six years old, I can see why he has always had his pick of willing women. He made casual eye contact with Red, then automatically looked up towards me - eyes lit with comprehension, before returning his gaze back to the dog. I saw understanding in his features as he realized that I was seeing him. He was staring intently at Red so that I could see his face.
His eyes were like lasers, focused and penetrating. For a moment, this face was superimposed over the young man I had stumbled upon in his parents’ kitchen, boinking Sheri Dangerfield on the island countertop. Still wiping the sleep from my eyes, I had wandered down to Janey’s kitchen during a sleepover and found Bas returned a day early from his military assignment overseas. He was obviously still the same randy man-ho he had always been. His face had been buried in her neck, and his cock had been buried… well, you get the idea. There was a moment when Bas happened to glance up and see me frozen in the doorway. My last view of him, over twelve years ago, included a frozen image of the tension in his face when his eyes stared straight into mine - while he had sex with another woman. The look on his face now was eerily similar. I barely started to catalogue his features when Red broke the connection.
“Sorry, Teresa. I can’t hold the link any longer.”
“No problem, Red. Good job. Grab a treat from the pantry and go relax for a while, okay?” With a sigh, I realized I was due for some one-on-one time with Bastian. It was my fervent hope that he no longer considered himself in love with me. He carried a torch for more than a decade, but I wanted him to find happiness and a woman that would match him better than I ever could have. I imagine it must be hard for him to see me with his friend David, but David is the man I fell in love with.
Gil still hadn’t returned when the buzzer for breakfast went off, so David took a mug of coffee outside to Gil, who was still on the phone, and let him know food was ready. In minutes, the six of us were scarfing down breakfast casserole and chattering about Red’s new abilities.
The group split up after the meal, with the three ex-military guys heading into the basement, leaving us in the living room to our sign language lessons.
Chapter Twelve
It was little wonder to me that a headache had started in my temples a half hour later. Now that I had a way I could see the video lesson, it would probably go faster to learn sign language through Red’s eyes. But, the mental link was taking a toll on him, and I decided to go on with the lessons the way we had been. Besides, his observations and commentary are what made our lessons so much fun.
“So, you’re telling me there are chickens in the library, and you checked out three of them?” Janey asked with a laugh. “If I was checking out anything at the library, it would be that hottie in the reference section. Damn, Teresa, librarians shouldn’t be built like the guy at the Help Desk.”
“It should have been ‘three women gossiping,” Ken growled, with an exasperated sigh. “Although, there are similarities.”
“I’m pretty sure that was the ASL sign for ‘chickens’,” Red mentioned to me, from his spot on the floor.
“Oww,” Ken whined, at Janey, “that hurt. When did you learn to throw a punch?”
“Well, duh. Big brother is a weight-lifting, ex-sailor, who teaches boxing and some karate thing…”
“Ju-jitsu,” I interjected, helpfully.
“Yeah, what she said… at the Y. Are you really surprised that Bas has shown me how to defend myself?”
“I’m pretty sure punching me in the arm is offense, not defense,” Ken protested. “But damn, woman, you’re all about the sexy when you’re all fist-fighty and in my face, like a cute little bantam hen.”
“You’ll note,” I said, drolly to Red, whose head now rested on my knee, “that he’s managed to circle around to another chicken reference?”
My German shepherd just made a chuffing noise. Some things were just not worth the effort to mind-speak about.
Janey, Ken, and I are learning ASL from DVD’s we checked out at the local library. Red can understand a surprising, and increasing range of the sign language, if we all stay consistent in our hand movements. Janey started out with lots of ballet flutters with her fingers, which Red found confusing, so she is working on clarity. I’m not sure how to explain the sudden increase in Red’s comprehension over just two or three weeks of lessons. In the beginning, he struggled with it and we resolved ourselves to just teaching the simple dog commands: sit, down and stay. Janey tells me the ‘kill’ command only earned her a head tilt, and she swears, a brow raise. Yeah, I’m with you, I think she was projecting too. Regardless of the reasons, Red is now making phenomenal progress with signing, to the point that he is better than the human students. I am sure that Bas and David have been working with him too. Not an easy task when you consider they don’t have a mental link like I do. This additional time could account for the leap in his learning curve, but in reality, I just didn’t know for sure.
I heard Ken whisper something low, and probably indecent, in my best friend’s ear, just before Janey squealed like a kindergartener. I shook my head that I somehow ended up with such a girly-girl as my best bud.
She took off at a run towards the patio door, where Ken must have caught her before she could make her escape. Yeah, I’m sure she was running in fear for her life. You’d think after dating (yes, a euphemism for having sex) for the last four months, some of the newness would have worn off their relationship. Not so, they were disgustingly sweet together. I’m pretty sure they were necking, if those smooching noises were any indication.
After an hour or so of practicing our American sign language together, I think it was safe to assume the group was ready to take a break. “Get a room you two,” I joked as I stood and stretched from my position on the sofa. “I think I’m done for the day.”
“Me too,” Janey said. “I think pra
cticing three days a week is really helping all of us. Chickens aside…”
“Gossiping,” Ken interjected.
“… I think we are getting pretty good at this.”
“Red is picking up on the signing too, Ken, and he says chickens.” I mentioned, aloud.
“Crap!” Ken said. “It’s pretty bad when the dog is catching on faster than I am.”
“He’s looking it up on the ASL Dictionary on his laptop computer,” Red told me through our mental bond, with a definite smirk in his tone.
“Crap,” Ken sounded defeated this time. “It was chickens.”
“Good call, Red. Go get yourself a treat.”
“Hey, I can tell the difference between gossiping biddies and clucking chickens,” he boasted, as he headed toward the pantry.
“Teresa, I’ll yell down the stairs to the guys, but Janey and I are going to head out. Our movie starts in twenty-five minutes and I want to make sure we have time to get concessions.”
“Geez, Ken, how can you even consider eating popcorn after that huge breakfast?” Janey’s voice contained a hint of awe at her man’s appetite.
“Popcorn, a box of Milk Duds, and a soda. That’s the only way to watch super heroes kick ass,” Ken informed us, sagely, his voice fading away as he entered the kitchen area.
Janey leaned in and gave me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. “I love you girlfriend.”
“Well, I love you too, but what brought this on?” I asked, returning her hug, as she hadn’t let me go yet. Janey is pretty demonstrative with Ken, and I get frequent quick hugs hello and goodbye… but an extended hug and a kiss on the cheek? That doesn’t happen unless she is taking off for a few days.
“I was just thinking how lucky I am that we’re friends. I am glad that Red has given you a new direction with your life, and shares these amazing gifts with you. You are my closest friend, and I want you to have a happy, full life,” she said.
I gave Janey a tight squeeze and stepped away from her. “My life is wonderful. I have the best people surrounding me, and a great dog. My life IS good Janey. I’m so lucky to have found David- or truth be told, he found me. I finally have a decent relationship with Bastian after so many years of being at odds with him. My life seems to get better and better.”
“Well don’t jinx it,” Janey teased.
“Ha! I am so not superstitious. People make their own happily ever after, Janey. Happiness is all in the positive attitude and good choices we make. Bad circumstances add to the bumps and textures in our lives, but we are in charge of molding our destiny into the shape we want it to take. Shit happens, but our life is what we determine has priority, significance. I’m shaping my life into a bowl, and I want it to be overflowing with love and friendship and new experiences.”
“With a wall all around
A clay bowl is moulded;
But the use of the bowl
Will depend on the part
Of the bowl that is void.”
Bas quoted a portion of one of my favorite sayings by Miyamoto Musashi. My concentration on Janey had been so intense, I hadn’t heard anyone come up from the basement.
“What does that even mean?” Ken asked from behind Bas.
I chuckled, “I think Bas is implying what’s IN my bowl defines me; I only have the illusion of control in shaping myself.” I heard the sound of twin footsteps coming through the kitchen. Gil and David. I was unaware of who was and wasn’t in the room until now. All accounted for!
“How come I ask a simple question, and the answer just raises more questions?” Ken’s tone had a distinct whine to it.
“That’s because you missed Teresa and I debating portions of The Book of Five Rings,” Bas explained. “Depending on the translation you’re reading, the fifth ring is the chapter of the Void or the Emptiness. There is a philosophical debate about the Void, but we had been arguing over whether or not everyone starts out, metaphorically, as an empty bowl. An empty bowl is filled with a void, or emptiness, waiting for the purpose in being filled with something. A bowl has no purpose until it is filled.”
“I think your bowl is full of shit, Bas.” Ken baited.
“Not necessarily, Ken. But I think Bas is teasing me because I referred to myself as a bowl, and based our discussion…”
“Nope,” Bas interrupted with a laugh, “I’m pretty sure it was an argument.”
I glared in the direction of his voice, “… our discussion just a couple of days ago…” I sighed, “I’m fighting a headache, so I’m not a worthy opponent right now. I think we are both right, Bastian.”
“Of course you do, Loser.” Bas kissed the top of my head. Can a kiss on the head feel condescending? I’m pretty sure that was the vibe I was sensing. Jerk. “I’ll go grab some aspirin for you.”
Okay, maybe not such a jerk, after all.
“Come on Janey, let’s leave the braniacs to their think-tanking. It’s time to indulge in mindless movie watching, and the gorging of junk food.” Ken jangled his keys to emphasize his impatience to get going.
“Yeah, I want to get good seats. We’ll see you guys later.” Janey enveloped me in her customary quick hug and she made the rounds with the guys. She closed the front door at the same time I heard Bastian’s tread going up the stairs, indicating he was heading to the bathroom to get the promised aspirin from the medicine cabinet.
“Do you feel up to talking about the mission? Or would you prefer to lay down for a bit and shake off the headache?” David slipped his arms around me and folded me to his chest, my head resting against his breastbone. In moments, Bas was thumping down the stairs and heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“The aspirin should work quickly. It’s just the beginning of a headache, if I catch it now, I’ll be fine in ten or fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll spend the first half hour going over the email and attached files with you. All listening, no thinking.” David started to guide me towards the kitchen, where I paused to down the pills Bas placed in my hand.
“We doing this in the Cave?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “Let me grab my mug first.”
“Gil already picked up your cup, and we have a fresh canister of coffee brewed downstairs.” David nudged me forward. Over his shoulder he asked, “Bas, can you set the alarm?”
I heard the click of nails as Red dashed in front of us, over the kitchen floor, into the pantry where the entrance to the Cave was hidden. The door must have been left open when the guys came upstairs, because Red continued through the room and I could hear the tapping of claws on the wooden steps. The key lock had long since been replaced by David’s favored keypad, and the door was now reinforced with a steel skin on the basement side. At this point, only Bas, David and I had the door code (possibly Gil, but I’d never thought to ask). They occasionally left the secret door open or unlocked when they were home, but the guys were very security conscious, almost to a point of paranoia. The classified work they did was both sensitive and expensive, so I suppose I couldn’t blame them.
David took my right hand as he led me all the way down the stairs. The men hadn’t installed guardrails on either side of the steps yet. David told me it was easier to get equipment downstairs without railings to maneuver around. Once everything was set up, they would make the cosmetic and safety additions needed. Yeah, something that should have been done before I bought the house, I know. But the crazy guy that built and owned the home before me had somehow kept the thirty-foot by forty-foot basement a secret - I checked, it’s not on the official blue prints. After I purchased the house a few years ago, the man gave me a special guided tour to tell me about a few of the extras. Until I mentioned the basement to David, he had no clue of its existence, mainly due to an absence of windows and an egress. Unless you noticed the canning shelves built onto the extra-wide door, it was hidden to casual scrutiny. This is the first time I’d been down to the guys’ man cave since they upgraded the electrical system and hauled all their equipmen
t down the nice wide staircase. I should probably mention the other extras in the house next time Bas and David were upstairs with me. Nothing as great as the underground lair- but still pretty cool and inventive of the prior owner. I should probably add, the previous owner was a bit of a paranoid nutcase. But he built an awesome house.
“Hey Buddy,” David addressed Red, “can you give Teresa a visual as we take her on a quick tour down here?” I was startled by the sudden switch from total darkness to the brightness of a well-lit basement, combined with the blue-yellow tones of color that made up Red’s vision. The pantry area is located in the south-central portion of the house, and the stairs came down towards the northern wall; not quite in the center of the room, but close.
“Holy Shit!” I spluttered. Eloquence went right out the window as I observed the amount of equipment crammed into the room. To the front of me and stretching as far to the right as possible, over-size desks, covered with keyboards and a minimum of six computer flat screens at each of the four workstations, took up the forty feet of north wall. A fifth station, at the northeast corner of the room, had twelve flat screens mounted on the walls like bathroom tiles. I could barely make out different views of the property which told me these were part of the security system or mapping program. To my left, in the northwest corner walls of cinderblock had been built to create a room, with what looked like a metal fire door. “What’s in here?” I asked.
