Two Crazy, One Wild

by Shaye Marlow

  “Ah-ah-ah,” Gary said, holding out his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I looked down at his arm, which hovered in the clothes-line position in front of me, and followed it up to his face.

  He met my narrowed gaze for a second, then grinned. “Gary,” he said, stepping more fully in front of me and offering his hand.

  “Frances,” I said, realizing he had eyes the color of grass.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  This time, I didn’t mind at all that my hand had been captured.

  Zack yanked me away. “C’mon. Let’s get food.”

  Gary of the impossibly green eyes pulled me up short. “Gotta pat her down,” he said to Zack, looking over my head.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Gary continued to hold me.

  “She’s clean,” Zack said, turning more fully toward him.

  “She’s with you,” Gary argued.

  “You’re not touching her.”

  Gary’s eyes narrowed. “A woman would be better?” At Zack’s nod, he said, “Helly.”

  Helly handed him her shotgun and stepped up to me. There, she hesitated. “This feels weird. Maybe if we get to know each other a bit better before I start the groping?”

  “Groping’s how I usually get to know people, but do whatever you need.”

  She smiled. “I’m a fishing guide and I write erotica on the side. And I’m his,” she said, jerking a thumb toward Gary, “fiancée, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Well, damn.” I heaved a sigh. “Okay. I’m a troublemaking bush pilot with daddy issues.”

  Helly snorted. “You’re gonna fit right in around here, I can tell. Where do I start?” she asked, directing the question to Gary.

  “Check her hair.”

  “Uh.” Helly reached up, and patted me gently on the head.

  “Check the sides, too, and under in the back.”

  Helly gingerly obeyed. “You have very soft hair,” she said.

  “And you smell nice,” I responded. “What is that, plumeria?”

  “Yes! You know, you are the first one to get that right.”

  “Well, it’s lovely.”

  “Shoulders, back,” Gary barked. “Between and under her breasts.”

  Helly paused on my chest, pressing in lightly with her palm. Her brows drew together, and as she glanced up at my face, one lifted.

  I reached down into my shirt and pulled Zack’s pocket knife from my bra. I moved to toss it to Zack, but Gary intercepted.

  Helly exchanged glances with her fiancé before she continued. She bent, feeling down my stomach and sides.

  “So you’re a pilot, huh?” Gary asked, meeting my eyes over Helly’s head.

  I nodded.

  “How long you been?”

  “Seven years. Started at eighteen.”

  Helly found my phone, and passed it to Gary. He looked it over, then handed it back.

  “Aaand, her pockets are full,” Helly pronounced.

  I sighed, then slid my hand into one. Gary’s eyes widened as I dumped a handful of treasures into his arms. Then I dug around in the other, and made another deposit.

  “I’m beginning to think we should just turn her upside down and shake her,” Gary said, trying to inspect what he held without dropping anything.

  “Will you look at that—a Tootsie Roll,” Zack said, swiping it.

  “Missed something,” Helly announced after re-patting my pockets.

  A mint flavored, ribbed condom joined the pile of items in his arms.

  Gary dumped his armful onto a stump. “Spread your legs,” he ordered.

  “Hey,” Zack said through my Tootsie Roll.

  With a little grin, I obeyed.

  “Inner thighs,” said Gary.

  Was it weird that I was finding this kinda hot? I wasn’t into women, but both Zack and Gary were watching Helly run her hands all over me, at Gary’s order.

  “Ummm… she’s got something strapped to her right thigh.”

  I reached into my pants, dug around a bit, and extracted a leather strap with a small gun on one end, and a low-profile knife on the other.

  Gary whistled, taking it from me.

  Helly continued downward. “Lumps in both her socks.”

  I pulled a wad of cash out of one sock, and my emergency bag of ground coffee out of the other, then toed out of my shoes, anticipating the request.

  Gary swept up one of my cross-trainers, turned it over, and shook a throwing star into his palm.

  Helly did the same with the other, and found thirty-eight cents and a Lego Darth Vader. She squinted at it. “Wasn’t that uncomfortable?”

  “I had a little room in the toe.”

  From the fire, a woman laughed. “She can sit next to me.”

  They gave me my shoes back, Gary kept my gun and knife and throwing star, and we all moved to the fire. I obligingly parked myself in the camp chair the woman patted, while Zack sat in the next chair over, and Gary stayed behind to pat down a still-crawling Rory.

  My new friend was a petite thing in a tank top and shorts, wildly curly hair barely restrained by a red handkerchief. “I’m Suzy,” she said, smiling at me past the bundle she held to her chest.

  Zack interrupted my introduction. “What is that?” he demanded.

  “This?” Suzy said.

  “Yes. That.”

  “That,” Helly said, “is a baby goat.”

  “Dangit, Helly, you gave it away. He looked about ready to run.”

  “He still looks ready to run,” Helly observed, dropping into a chair.

  “Mimi—my goat,” Suzy said to me, “had this little guy two months ago. He was a complete surprise. There are some people with goats a couple miles upstream, so, somehow, I’m assuming, one of their males made it all the way down here to knock up Mimi.

  “I brought him up to see if Helly wanted a goat—I know how much she just adores Mimi, especially in her boat…” There was definite sarcasm there, and a glance exchanged between the two women. “…but it seems like Mocha wants to eat the poor little guy.”

  Helly grinned. “You guys missed it. Suzy put the goat on the ground, and Mocha—that’s my dog—chased him around the yard twice and then down into the lake, where she finally got teeth into him.”

  “He’s not usually so cuddlesome,” Suzy agreed, stroking the little guy’s head before glancing at me. “Want to hold him?”

  I held out my arms, wiggled my fingers, and accepted the baby goat. He was warm, his fur soft. His little hooves jabbed at my thighs, but anything could be forgiven for a face like that. Smiling, I stroked his neck.

  Zack, who’d been fidgeting during the talk of baby goats, cleared his throat. “Well, hey,” he said as Gary came over to join us. “Rory and I are trying to improve our rep with the community. Do you guys have any ideas?”

  “You could try growing up,” Helly said, getting up to load food onto a plate. “Get rid of the catapults, stop wearing shit like,” she waved her hand at Zack, “that, and become contributing members of society.”

  Zack had changed after the brawl in the mud. He now wore a pair of batik Hammer pants, and… oh. His shirt said, I shaved my balls for this?

  “We contribute,” Zack argued, the material of his pants moving strangely as he followed his sister to the grill. “We build shit, we paint shit, and we entertain the masses.”

  “I don’t think any of the masses that watch your YouTube channel live around here,” Suzy said. “In fact, I think most of these masses see your catapults as a frivolous hobby, and that’s putting it nicely.”

  Helly handed Rory a plate of food before he made it to his seat, and once the food was in his hands, he quit trying. He just curled around his dinner and started stuffing handfuls of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  “Learning to use utensils would help your cause,” Suzy said. She tossed a fork at Rory, and it bounced off his head. He didn’t notice.

  “Okay. What els
e?” Zack came back holding two plates, and held one out to me as he reclaimed his seat.

  I smiled up at him, charmed by the gesture.

  “Here, I’ll take him while you eat,” Suzy said, reclaiming the goat. “Grow up,” she said to Zack. “Like Helly said. Learn to take care of your property and yourselves. Become responsible and worthwhile human beings.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Rory said, surfacing long enough to speak. “You’re basing our worth as human beings on… what, exactly? Whether or not we clean our bathroom?”

  “Your bathroom is fucking disgusting,” Helly said.

  “Actually,” Zack said, “I cleaned it.”

  Everyone stopped to stare. “You mean you hired someone to—” Helly started.

  “No, I mean I went in there with a pair of rubber gloves and a sponge and some Lysol, and I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the shit out of it.”

  “And it actually looks good?” Helly asked, glancing at me.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “Fiddlehead ferns?” I poked at the rounds of cooked greenery on my plate.

  Helly nodded. “Gathered ’em this spring.”

  Zack leaned forward in his seat, eyes intent on his sister. “Listen. I come here every couple weeks, and help you with whatever you’re currently writing. Pirate erotica, fortune-teller erotica, furry erotica, you know, whatever. I’d really appreciate it, now, if you’d help us brainstorm some ideas to help us solve our problem.”

  “I second that. Nicely said,” Rory said, finally clawing his way into his seat.

  Helly sighed. “Fine. I’ll try. So… what do people love?”

  “Blowjobs?” Rory asked.

  Helly gave him the death stare. “Are you gonna go around giving all the men in the neighborhood blowjobs?”

  “Ew, no.”

  “Then shut up.”

  “People like to be fed,” Gary volunteered, sitting next to Helly with a full plate.

  “If they threw a barbecue right now—” Suzy started.

  “No one would come,” Helly finished.

  I looked at Zack in surprise. Sure, I often found the brothers irritating, and they didn’t have the best relationship with the Trebuchet Gang, and Ed seemed a little fed-up. But I hadn’t realized they’d managed to alienate everybody.

  “Plus,” Zack said, “there is the little problem of coming up with something to feed them. We’re having some issues with our fridge right now.”

  “Fine, food’s out. Gifts?” Helly said.

  “Like?” Zack asked.

  “I dunno, like a little gift bag full of fishing lures and booze.”

  “That’s a great idea, I think,” Zack began tentatively. “But we don’t have any of either of those. At least, not new in package.”

  “So get some.”

  “The next time we’re in town, we might,” Rory said. “What other ideas do you have?”

  “Install a home theater in that shop of yours,” Gary said. “Cushy seats, big screen. Invite everyone over for free weekend showings.”

  Zack’s eyes got all big and excited, and I kinda agreed. Much better use of the space.

  Rory wrinkled his nose. “But we need that space. That’s where the magic happens. The catapults,” he explained, catching Suzy’s blank look.

  “Get yourselves a hot tub and invite everyone over,” I said. “No one can resist a hot tub.”

  “Oooo, I love that idea,” said Helly. “Gary and I are in ours all the time. I can only imagine that everyone’d suddenly be your friend.”

  “We could do that,” Rory said. “Except… hot tubs are big.”

  Across the fire from him, Suzy groaned. “I’m not moving a hot tub for you. Besides the fact that it’d be a pain in the ass, you blew a hole in my barge. You’ve been black-listed, and you’re SOL.”

  “Surely there’s something we can do to convince you?” Zack asked.

  “Blow job?” Rory offered.

  Suzy glared.

  “C’mooon, we paid for the entirety of that repair. And we paid Ed for his time, and we gave you a little something extra for your suffering.”

  “That ‘little something’ wasn’t enough,” Suzy said. “Catastrophe follows you two around like a bad smell, and that’s the main issue, here. Everything you’re involved in goes pear-shaped, and I don’t want it going pear-shaped on my boat.”

  “We’d have barely anything to do with it. We’d just order it, it’d be delivered to the landing, you move it and drop it off, and we take it from there. All we’d do is pay you,” Zack said.

  “And well,” Rory added.

  “I’m not doing shit for you as long as you’re untrustworthy jerkoffs,” Suzy said.

  “And, what? We’re just gonna be ‘untrustworthy jerkoffs’ for the rest of our lives? We’re trying to change,” Rory said. He leaned forward after Suzy scoffed, his gaze intent. “What can we do to prove to you that we’re improving?”

  “What can we do for you, or give you, to move that hot tub?” Zack asked, his expression pleading.

  Suzy looked back and forth between them.

  “Ohhh! I’ve got it!” Helly said. “You’re trying to figure out something to do with that goat, right?”

  “Oh no.” Suzy held the goat closer to her chest.

  “You were just telling me they kill and eat baby boy goats, so that’s the alternative here, right?”

  “At least that way, it’d be a clean death,” Suzy said. “With them, he’d suffer for days before meeting his fate.”

  “Not necessarily,” Helly said. “Only one way to find out.”

  Rory looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Suzy giving you her baby goat, which she was trying to re-home. If you can keep him alive for—what do you think, Suzy, a week?”

  “A month, at least.”

  “Fine. If you can keep him alive for six weeks, she’ll see that you really are growing and changing, and will move, for you, one hot tub.”

  “Wait, what?” said Zack.

  “They’re trying to give us the goat,” Rory said.

  “Nonononono. That thing’s a baby. We’d kill it for sure,” Zack said.

  Rory shushed him, then smiled at Suzy. “We’d be up for the challenge. But don’t you think six weeks is a bit long? I mean, we can probably keep the goat alive that long, but we really need that hot tub. Soon,” he added.

  “I have a suggestion,” I said, drawing their gazes. “How about we take the goat, and Suzy, you haul the hot tub for the usual fee, at your earliest convenience.” I held up a hand to forestall her argument. “And then Zack and Rory have to keep the goat alive for two months, and if they fail, the hot tub goes to you.”

  Rory’s brows shot up, and Zack appeared to be considering.

  “And what happens to little Billy Bob at the two month mark?” Suzy asked, cuddling the goat.

  “He probably will have grown on them by then. Hell, Zack and Rory have been harboring a feral ermine for who-knows-how-long. I think a baby goat will worm its way into their hearts in no time.”

  “You should do it,” Helly said, nudging her friend. “C’mon, give ’em the chance.”

  “I really don’t want my boat messed up again,” Suzy said.

  “If they mess up your boat again,” Helly said, “we can do something really satisfyingly awful to them. Maybe take something from them that’s more important than money.”

  “Like… a semen sample?” Rory said, leering at Suzy.

  Suzy threw her plate at him, and the grease-soaked paper whacked him in the face. And yeah, this time he appeared to notice. “If you want me to move your hot tub, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” she said.

  “Hey, while we’re adding conditions to this deal,” Rory said, using the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, “we really need a new fridge—”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  Rory nodded. “Okay, never mind. We’ll just call around, see if one of the smalle
r operations is willing to move it for us.”

  “You’re still talking,” Suzy said.

  “It’s a lost cause, trying to keep Rory silent,” Helly said. “Actually, what we should do is make them practice their compliments. It’d be a win-win. People love compliments,” she explained, seeing Zack’s clueless look. “It’d make you much more popular if you were praising people.”

  “You’re talking about flattery,” Rory said, grimacing.

  “Yes, if taken to the extreme, it could be called flattery. But what I really want from you is to look at Suzy right now, really look at her, and say one nice thing that you mean.”

  Zack and Rory gazed for several moments. “Holy shit,” Zack finally said. “You have freckles.”

  Gary groaned. “Oh my god, you guys suck at this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ZACK

  Over the sounds of everyone arguing about how hopeless Rory and I actually were, the drone of an approaching aircraft became impossible to ignore. A floatplane appeared, skimming the trees on the far edge of the lake.

  “He’s flying low,” I observed.

  “Yup. It’s our parents.”

  I did a double take. “What?”

  “Our parents,” Helly said. “They’re here for Suzy’s wedding.”

  I stared up at the circling float plane with dawning horror. “But… why?”

  “They know Suzy. They like Suzy. What the hell’s your problem?” Helly asked.

  My gaze drifted to Frances. And damn me, she noticed.

  With a little wiggle of her brows, she grinned.

  “How come I didn’t know about this?” I asked.

  “Nobody tells us anything,” Rory agreed.

  “Ha! You were told. You just fucking forgot. You’ve probably got a sticky note with their flight info on it lost in the jumble on your bar somewhere.”

  “Yep, they do,” Frances said.

  That float plane was angling for a landing, and my heart was in my throat, wondering if I could get Frances out of here before she met the parents. Would that be rude? Did I care?

  “Are they staying with you?” I asked, trying to figure how Frances and I would continue our morning flirtations with an aging hippy and uptight volcanologist in residence.

  “Dur,” Helly said. “They’re currently landing on my lake. I’m the one with an extra cabin. And I’m not stinky and crazy and filthy and loud,” she said with a sharp glance at Gary. “So, yes. They’re staying here.”