by A. R. Braun
Fay squealed. “Nice ride.” She bopped her head to the song “Into the Pit.” “Cool group. Who is this?”
“Testament.” He pulled off down the road.
“Sounds like Metallica.”
“They’re like Metallica with a conscience — at least they used to be.”
Fay nodded. “Sweet.”
“So, is your mother less than thrilled you’re dating a guy who’s thirty?”
Fay laughed. “I think she’s glad I’m not dating a gangbanger.” She nodded her head to the music a little more. “Where we goin?”
Don decided he wouldn’t drive past the biker bar. “To the multiplex after we hit Chez Whitey or wherever for a bite to eat.”
Fay laughed again. “You kill me, you know it?” She hadn’t lost her smile. “Chez Whitey. Were you the class clown?’
“Of course.” He watched the road for a while, then turned to her for a few seconds. “I thought you might want to dine a little more high-class than Baskin Robbins tonight.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Fay checked her messages on her smartphone.
Don passed the Intel building on the driver’s side. He stuck a thumb she couldn’t see toward it. “That’s where I work.”
She snapped her head toward him and then stared at the building. “I know, you told me. Everybody in Rio Rancho works there.” She put her phone away and looked him over as he stopped at a red light, then rubbed his leg, which aroused him more than ever. “Bling, bling.”
The light turned green, and the engine revved as he stepped on the gas a few times when the gear was in park, then slipped it into drive and pulled out. At this, she giggled and looked at him with large eyes and raised brows. The girl was in a frisky mood.
Don braced himself for the best night of his life.
***
Fay decided on the sports bar they’d met at instead of Chez Whitey. They were working on finishing their wine coolers after stuffing themselves on pizza and potato wedges. Don thought the food delectable and the drinks the panacea.
Fay drained her bottle. “But I think some of Jack Black’s movies are dumb compared to School of Rock and Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny. He’s great as a supporting actor too, like in The Cable Guy, but that’s his old shit.”
Don sipped his third bottle, hesitant to drain it and savoring it. “He’s like Billy Bob Thornton. He can’t make a bad movie.”
She cocked her head at him. “You liked Nacho Libre?”
“Just my opinion.”
She glanced sexily toward the bar out of the corner of her eyes, then pinned him with those lovely irises. “Remember when we met in there, a couple of single losers wondering what we were going to do?”
“You mean we aren’t single anymore?” Just to be cool, Don drained his wine cooler.
“You asking me to go steady? I thought I said to take it slow.”
Don thought he’d screwed up and didn’t know what to say.
She laughed, picked up her bottle, forgot it was empty, then blew on it as a makeshift horn when it wouldn’t yield a drink. She set it down and giggled again. “I’m kidding, silly.”
“Oh.” Don laughed along with her.
Something made a loud thud on the roof and shook the building’s foundation. Don and Fay cringed. Everyone’s eyes looked up to the ceiling.
Don looked at Fay. “Thunderstorm, you think?”
Fay met his stare. “We get some wicked-bad storms around here.” She flashed him a lusty look while showing her pearly whites. “You wanna get out of here?”
“Sure.” Don started to get up, sat back down, picked up the check and waited for her to slide out of the booth.
She continued eyeing him mischievously while sliding out. “Donny, relax. I like you, remember?”
Don nodded and made his way out of the booth. She hooked arms with him as he walked up to the host to pay the check.
“Been a while?” she asked while looking up at him.
Don snorted. “Something like that.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
“Very funny.” Don tried not to appear turned on as he paid with his platinum card.
All the while, Fay stared in fascination. The host thanked him, and they stepped out into the lukewarm night. The comforting breeze soothed Don’s flesh; insanely, a storm wasn’t brewing.
Where had the thunder come from then?
Fay pulled him close, severing his train of thought. The seductive scent of her shampoo and conditioner wafted up to him. He got wood again from her soft body. He opened the door for her, and she hopped in, a big smile on her face.
“Anywhere you want to go in particular?” Don asked as he drove around and gazed at the city lights.
Fay hung out the window space. Her hair flew backward off her forehead. She kicked her shoes off, swung her heels onto the dashboard and closed her eyes. “Just drive. It’s only eleven o’clock and I don’t wanna go home yet.”
“Can do.” Don turned up the stereo a bit. Testament warned against “False Evidence Appearing Real.”
Fay turned toward him. “You know what? Let’s barhop in Albuquerque till three in the morning. You don’t have to work tomorrow, right?”
Don eyed her for a second before watching the road again. “Right. Sounds like a wiener.” He hit the expressway and cranked the stereo while Fay squealed, just loudly enough that she wasn’t drowned out by the music.
***
When Don pulled into Fay’s driveway and killed the engine at four a.m., the neighborhood was as quiet as a sleeping cat. He’d had to put his hand over one eye to stave off the double vision from all the spirits that had flowed like mead. Fay sat giggling, torn up from the floor up. She jumped out before he could open the door for her, so he followed her to the porch. He tried to mimic her wobbling and not lose his footing. He barely succeeded.
Fay wheeled on him and looked him over while she stood on crossed legs. She grabbed his bare arm, her little hand sending burning ripples of desire through his groin. “Come here and sit with me.” She pulled him over to the glider. His mind spinning, he let her sit and copped a squat beside her. She looked at him as if expecting affection, and he put his arm around her. She snuggled up against him.
Fay looked upward. “Just look at those stars. No clouds, perfect weather.”
He followed her gaze, where it looked as if he could pull the lights out of the sky, and nodded.
She kissed him on the cheek. “I had a great time.”
“I did too,” Don answered.
She blinked a few times as she looked into his eyes. She could’ve been a vampire and he would have succumbed gladly.
He planted one on her.
She kissed back while she held the back of his head and stroked his short hair. If anything tasted better than her lips, he didn’t know what. When she pulled away (and she’d better ‘cause he damn sure wasn’t going to), he ran his tongue over her lips, tasting the sweet and sour lipstick. Don was fully erect and in heaven-on-earth.
So when something flashed through the yard at supernal speed, Don didn’t bat an eye at it.
Probably a coyote or a hawk.
She held onto his neck with her soft and warm hand. He had his hands on her back, feeling the bra strap. He wanted to take her right there, but on the first date? Well, the second date, if he counted the bar and Baskin Robbins. Was that kosher?
She laughed forlornly. “My mom’s asleep.” Then she straightened up and looked downward. “But I guess we shouldn’t go that far on the first date — second, if you count the ice cream.” Was this girl psychic? “You’re probably too drunk to fuck anyway,” she continued, then laughed. She let go of him and looked into his eyes.
He laughed also, glad she’d answered his unasked question. “Probably.”
“Sorry if I’m a killjoy.”
“No, no! I had a wonderful time.”
Fay swung on the glider, a little too hard after a few minutes, and they bot
h had to struggle not to fall off. They fell into a laughing fit.
“We’re getting retarded.” She let out a few more giggles and then got up. “I guess we’d better pour ourselves into bed.”
Don laughed and rose. “Can you get into the house all right?”
She touched his cheek and made an o with her mouth. “You dear, sweet man.” She grabbed his cheeks and squeezed. “Cute little Donny.” Fay almost fell and Don had to catch her. She let out a high, girlish laugh. “I think I can manage, at least I hope I can.”
Don steadied her to the door. She reached out and hugged him, her lush, sweet-scented hair in his face. “Maybe tomorrow night when we go out, you’ll get lucky, big fella.” Fay pulled away but still held him. She licked his face. “Dream about me.” Fay slipped out of the embrace, opened the screen door, unlocked the entry door and turned to him as she held onto the jamb. “Same time tomorrow, baby.” Then she blew him a kiss and took her time shutting the door.
Don had to hold onto the porch rail to keep steady; he was a fine one to offer to help her into bed. He wanted to do cartwheels to his car, but knew he’d fall on his ass. His mind bobbing and weaving from the alcohol, he held on tight to the railing and descended the porch, then wobbled to his car. Don put in The Formation of Damnation by Testament and cranked it up.
“Woo-hoo,” he cried into the night.
CHAPTER 9
Don glided over Rio Rancho while being carried in the sharp talons of a huge bird. A bird so gigantic, it might have been a private jet. The view took his breath away, and the city lights, like a model of the metropolis of Albuquerque, shone as beacons of a kingdom, all his for the taking. The chilly night air rushed about him and created goose bumps on his flesh; he was naked, but didn’t care. His usual fear of heights had transcended into rapturous joy, for he was cured, and more stoned than he’d been when he’d tried cocaine in college.
“All this for you,” the bass voice of a god boomed above him. “Oysters in spicy Cajun sauce, MTV-like cribs and anything else you desire.”
Don giggled like a stoner. “Sw-eet! Anything?”
“But of course.”
Don lifted his head to gaze at the creature carrying him, but could only see the huge wings that flapped evilly, the sides of a tent whipped by a dust storm. A blinding light obscured the rest.
“The wildest parties, CEO of Intel, governor of New Mexico, the presidency! I will give you the dirtiest pleasures. Do you want your girlfriend to go bi? I can make it happen. Want orgies with cheerleaders from U of NM? Done and done.
“You’ll rule the world!”
Don giggled again, then toked on a joint as big as a cigar with one hand and pulled from a bottle of bourbon with the other. “St-raight! Richy Rich, dude, gettin more ass than a toilet seat!”
The wind picked up and blew Don’s hair away from his face. He flinched at the roar of deafening engines, and he snapped his head to the side. Don blinked, then stared in disbelief at the huge aircraft that flew alongside them. The front of the plane, like God’s stuffed-up nose, made Don’s stomach churn and his head spin.
“I’m God.”
The god-bird carried him over to the windows of the airplane before the craft’s sharp-looking wings made contact. Busty, naked blondes, brunettes and redheads with shaved pussies waved at him from the windows. Their tits formed rippling circles when shoved against the panes.
Don cackled. “I really am gonna be king!”
The deity carried him upward, and they soared above the plane, going into the cumulous clouds. Don coughed and gagged.
Whispered into Don's ear, the voice grated against his eardrum to the point of bursting: “JUST REMEMBER ME.”
Don opened his eyes. His mind lurched. Don knew he’d regret it, but he sat up. His stomach churned; his supper threatened to come back up to say howdy do. Don stood, holding onto the headboard as the room rushed around him, gaining speed. He ran to the bathroom on shaky legs, almost crashing into the door and slipping on the mat. He didn’t even have time to lift up the seat before upchucking his dinner. He thought he saw an eye staring back at him from the bottom of the bowl, but examined it further and found it was only part of a potato skin. He dry heaved, then flushed the toilet. He crawled to the sink, pulled himself up and rinsed with mouthwash.
What a stupid dream. I don’t want Fay to go bi.
He sighed.
I’ve gotta quit drinking.
Then Don stopped cold, staring at his red, bleary eyes that suddenly widened as he remembered the dream. Could that have been the deity who’d been helping him? Was it revealing… itself?
Don remembered the god-bird spoke with a bass voice. Therefore, it must be a he. He shook his head and filled the plastic water glass. Don threw the cold water in his face, needing to get ahold of himself. It was just a stupid nightmare.
He stumbled back to bed and sank into the soft mattress and pillow. The room stopped spinning, and he was able to get back to sleep.
He never noticed the deity shivering with delight from the patio.
***
Don woke with an itchy, jabbing pain in his rectum. He dug into it with a shaky hand and pulled out feathers colored red, orange, purple and gold, just like the hues of the god-bird that had carried him in his dream. Don bolted upright. His mind raced with anxiety mixed with anger.
“What the fuck?”
The feathers winked out of his field of vision.
Don smacked his forehead with his palm. “Did Fay slip me drugs?”
A sharp black tooth that looked like it belonged to a demon was stuck in the wall just above the TV. Don struggled out of bed. His head pounded as what sounded like a ménage a trois went on in the room above him. He hurried over to the wall, reached out to retrieve the tooth and found nothing.
“She did slip me drugs.”
The room spun, and out of the corner of his eye, Don gasped when he caught a black panther pacing on the patio. It rose up on its hind legs and screamed, amplified in the confines of the small space. The animal batted the trembling glass.
Don looked downward. Scorpions filled the floor. Inside the room.
“Oh no! Oh my God!” He jumped onto the bed and pulled his hair, almost yanking it out by the roots.
A vivacious redheaded woman broke through the ceiling. The plaster fell to the floor and landed on the scorpions. They scattered.
Don had to get a closer look at the curio that couldn’t be real, so he jumped off the bed and landed on the plaster. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
The naked woman with milky-white skin hung upside-down, her tits bouncing as someone continued to fuck her from above. She pinned him with her eyes. “Beat off, you dog of hell!”
Too tore up with a hangover to think about sex, Don swayed on his feet at the surreal sight.
She glowered at him with cat’s eyes that had to be contact lenses, at least he hoped so. “Your hot-ass girlfriend’s up here eating my pussy while my boyfriend fucks me in the ass!” Don hated her and wanted to punch her out, but that brought on a wave of nausea. He yearned to rush to the bathroom; he couldn’t because of the scorpions.
The redhead shrieked and fell on top of him. Don groaned with pain as she knocked him down, the woman all soft bumps and curves. He struggled for breath, the wind knocked out of him.
Don woke again, eyes wide. A three-way was indeed going on above him, but nobody burst through the roof. The panther and the scorpions were gone. Don ran to the bathroom and puked again. He sprayed it all over the top of the bowl before hitting the mark.
Trembling and feeling like he was going to faint, Don tried to compose himself.
It was just a nightmare, a filthy wet dream. That’s it, no more fucking alcohol. Get it together. I’m dating the woman of my dreams, and I’ve gotta go house hunting.
Don looked at his watch and realized he’d slept till the crack of 1:00 p.m. “Jesus Christ!”
The phone rang.
Don stumbled into the liv
ing room and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hey.” It was Fay. “So, whatcha doin?”
Oh, my God, you really don’t wanna know. “Hey, doll. Getting ready to go house hunting.”
Outside, a couple of black crows landed on the balcony and cawed. Don walked over and banged on the window, motioning to them and whispering, “Shoo! Shoo!” Glaring at him, the birds refused to move. The pissed off sun came out in full strength from behind the clouds and blinded him.
Fay giggled. “Well, when you pick one, I want to go there tonight.”
Don was about to grab his briefcase to swat at the crows, but they finally flew off, cawing their complaints. He turned the air-conditioner on. It was going to be a broiler.
So much for the dry heat.
“Hon, it won’t move that fast,” Don said. “I’ll have to put in a bid on one.”
“What, Mom? Hold on, Donny.” Fay covered the phone.
Jesus, I’ve still got those insane nightmares on my mind. I wish she’d hang up and let me do my business. I need a pot of coffee in me to look over half a dozen houses so I can forget about the dreams. Then I’ll be ready for a date.
“It’s Don, the nice man who took me out last night. No, I didn’t — let me talk on the goddamn phone, would you?” She sighed. “Okay, Donny, I got rid of her. If you won’t get a house right away, I wanna go to your hotel room.”
Don shook his head. Hang up, would you? “There’s no DVD player here, but they do have HBO.”
Fay giggled again. “HBO, right. Probably dirty movies, huh?”
No, dirty nightmares, he thought pensively.
“Look, Fay, I love talking to you and all, but I’ve gotta get going. I’m late getting up as it is.”
“Am I bothering you?” She sounded cross. “Keeping you up too late?”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s — ”
Fay laughed. “I’m just yankin your chain.”
Don chuckled. “Oh good, ‘cause I just woke up a minute ago, and I’ve gotta get a move on.”
“Check.” She breathed into the phone a couple of times. “I had a great time last night, hon.”
