The Not

by A. R. Braun

  With that she went inside and slammed the door.

  CHAPTER 15

  Don sat in his car, still in the parking lot of Jim’s ranch house. He could barely see for the tears gushing from his eyes. The sky was crying as well, a torrential downpour the likes of which he’d never seen. Pretty soon, hail would accompany it. The shower pounded the roof of his car, then something landed on it with a thud.

  “What do you say, Donny Boy? Want me to ‘bring salvation back’?”

  “Y-y-you bastard,” Don sobbed.

  Upside-down, the Not lowered its beaked face to glare at him with widened cat’s eyes through the windshield. “You cry like a little bitch, you know it, paleface? He-he-he-he-he-he-he.” He raised his head back up.

  Don ignored him. I miss Fay so much. Her tender touch, her angel’s face, her perfect body — loving me, of all people, way out of my league. She gave me a purpose. And now she’s gone.

  “Donny Boy? I’m going to drop softball-sized hail in thirty seconds that’ll ruin your car. Want some protection?”

  A thought hit him: The caring Fay, that’s not how she really is. I fucked with nature, and Rio Rancho’s demise was the punishment.

  But how Don pined for Fay, how he’d die to be with her now, how his heart was cracking in two.

  From inside the house, Fay pulled back the curtains and scowled at him, turning her head to bitch at Georgia and her uncle Jim, the latter probably about to call the police on Don. Don turned his head and looked at the supplies Running Bear had given him to banish the spirit.

  Soon, very soon.

  “Soon to be a single loser.”

  What was Don to do? If he called on The Not one more time just to get Fay back and then quit before the deity could destroy Albuquerque, she’d fall out of love with him again eventually.

  No, he was in it for life.

  Fay threw the curtains closed. The cloth bounced back and forth and then fell still.

  Just drive away, forget her and perform the ritual for the greater good. A woman doesn’t define me. I’ll survive. It’s the right thing to do.

  A fit of grief-stricken blubbering made him cough and gag. God, this is awful. His heart hadn’t just broken, it had exploded. The pain of losing her — the best thing to ever happen to him — was too much to bear.

  It was worth it to sacrifice everything for love. Or was it?

  Male laughter echoed from behind the car. Don looked in the rear-view mirror, caught two figures in white walking down the street, then craned his neck and spotted a couple Native American boys in baseball uniforms that were getting soaked and sticking to their skin. The teens had stocky builds for children. The one carrying a bat pointed at Don and laughed; the other flipped him the bird. Don turned back around.

  It’s amazing how, at your lowest moment, people kick you. Makes you wonder if there is a devil. No, it’s The motherfucking Not.

  In complete cowboy outfit, including pistols and a gun belt, Jim stormed out of the house and yelled something at those Native American boys, who calmed down quick-like and rushed away, running for a spell. Then Jim hurried over and knocked on Don’s car window. The latter sighed and rolled it down. Things just kept getting weirder.

  “Those Injun boys giving you a hard time?” Jim asked, then frowned. “Hey, are you crying?”

  “W-w-we stole their country,” was all Don could get out.

  Jim nodded, sadness in his eyes. “I apologize. I take cowboys vs. Indians a bit too far.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I just want you to know, I think what Fay did to you was shitty. You stay here and take all the time you need to get composed.”

  Don nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, Jim.”

  The old man sauntered back to the house. Don started to roll up the window, but decided to leave it cracked. Once Jim was inside, Don could hear Fay arguing with her uncle from out here.

  Don heaved a heavy sigh. He’d die from the grief of losing Fay, he just knew it. He’d made love to her, for God’s sake! Don shivered because the rain chilled him, the dry heat taken away. In need of fresh air, he was glad he’d left the window cracked.

  I’ll call on him to bring Fay back to me, but I won’t give him power over Albuquerque.

  “Killjoy!” The Not stomped on the roof. The hail started.

  “All right!” Don said. The hail quit, along with the rain. “Bring Fay back to me, you son of a bitch, but you can’t have Albuquerque.”

  “Can’t have everything, where would you put it?”

  The high school-aged Boys of Summer were almost out of sight now, but Don could see them well enough. One of the youth’s index fingers fell off while blood squirted out of the socket, and the other boy’s middle finger, the one that had flipped him off, shot away from his hand with similar results. Crimson splattered the front of their uniforms. They cried out and picked up the dislodged fingers.

  Horrified, Don gasped. Surely, this couldn’t be happening. Then he remembered the source.

  There he goes, destroying my enemies again!

  Don bounded out of the car. “Are you kids all right?” he yelled. “Need me to call an ambulance?”

  Keening, they ran off.

  Don ran after them, yet they were almost gone, mere specks in the distance until they disappeared. He thought about calling the police and reporting it anyway, but then realized how insane he’d sound. Yes, officer, they were walking down the street and decided to mess with me. Then, by golly, their fingers just came off by themselves. Don would be either arrested for mutilating minors, or they’d stick him in a loony bin. With a heavy heart, he turned away from the field and walked back to the car with his head down, looking up when he heard a screen door bang.

  Her visage softened, Fay all but leapt from the porch, heading his way. Her rack bounced and her face was flushed. Don let out a girlish high note in relief. She reached him and placed her soft, comforting hands on his waist.

  “Oh, Donny, I’m so sorry!” Fay put her head on his shoulder.

  “F-fuck this.” Don bear hugged her, not in the mood for mild affection; he hoped he wouldn’t break her.

  “I didn’t mean it. I was broken up about… R-R-Rio Rancho.”

  Don seemed to bleed tears of joy. He was so dehydrated he thought his skin would crack. The sun warmed his back, but he didn’t see it because his face was buried in her hair and shoulder.

  Fay gingerly pulled away from him, looking absolutely destroyed with that red face and dripping, bloodshot eyes. The sunlight cast a yellow radiance on her golden skin. It seemed she’d have a seizure from her racking sobs. “You’re all broken-up too.”

  Don kissed her, and what a wet, drippy kiss it was. He couldn’t help himself. Don pulled back, holding her by her wan arms, the woman like a lost and scared child that didn’t know what to do. They wiped their faces with their hands.

  Fay trembled as she looked up into his eyes. “Can I have a cigarette?” she asked in that broken-but-chirpy voice.

  Don sniffed, wincing inside at the Don Knotts-like gesture, then made an attempt to laugh and handed her the whole pack, plus the lighter. Fay wiped her eyes with her long pink shirtsleeve and snuffled. She put an arm around his waist, then walked him to the porch. They sat on the tan glider, the lime-green cushion caressing his behind. Fay lit a cigarette and handed the pack back to him. Don lit two and smoked them at the same time.

  Fay looked at him with raised eyebrows and the crook of a smile. Then she burst out laughing. “You a two-fisted smoker now?”

  Don caught the giggles. It was contagious. “After what I’ve just been through? Yeah.”

  “Goof.” She gingerly punched him on the arm. Then another uncontrollable laughing fit took her.

  “Aw, isn’t that syrupy sweet.”

  Don’s thoughts ran along the lines of Grrrrr. But he couldn’t shake that rapturous feeling that came from being reunited with his beloved.

  Fay leaned into him, swiping one of the cigarettes out of his mouth and throwing it
into the bucket. “You don’t need two squares, you’ve got me.”

  “I love you,” Don let out. But did he? Or did he love whom The Not turned her into? No matter, he’d scored his dream girl. “I am totally and completely bugshit for you, off the chain and mental in the brain crazy for you.”

  Fay rose up a bit and kissed him. “Me too.”

  You’re crazy for yourself too? Don scolded himself as soon as the thought came to him. Why ruin his happiness with a bad attitude? Even though his thought had some basis in fact.

  They smoked the cigarettes all the way down and Fay took the butts and dropped them into the bucket. She came back and sat in his lap, the perfect curves of her ass springing an instant erection.

  Fay said, “Rock me.”

  Don was confused. “Here, on the porch?”

  Fay leaned back, the enticing scent of her shampoo in his face. “No, silly. Rock the swing.”

  And he did. Birds sang, squirrels skittered to and fro and the happy sounds of children at play filled the neighborhood. All was right with the world.

  “You were right about that Not thing,” Fay said somberly, not turning to face him. Her comment killed the mood a bit. Well, a lot. Don tasted her hair, almond Wen treatment. She pulled away and looked him over. “My hair taste good?”

  Don smiled. “Wonderful.”

  They sat in silence for a while, just rocking, Don holding her around her slim waist. They listened to the sounds of life.

  Don broke the silence. “The Not wanted me to take you back to Illinois and give him permission to destroy Albuquerque. I said no, that he couldn’t have this city.”

  Fay became squinty-eyed and scowled. “You gave him permission to take Rio Rancho?”

  CHAPTER 16

  Don shook his head. “The Not didn’t tell me he was going to destroy Rio Rancho. He lied and told me he wanted to bless them as he’d blessed me. He said your mom would find true love and financial blessings, said everyone would.”

  Fay nodded and grabbed another cigarette. “That fucker.”

  Don lit the smoke for her. He lit one for himself also.

  Uncle Jim came out onto the porch, basking in the sunlight and then stretching. He walked into the yard and roughhoused with his dogs, then trudged back to the porch and smiled as he made his way over to them. “Glad to see the lovebirds back together.”

  Don grinned. “Thank you, Jim. She scared me for a minute.”

  Jim laughed. “Our Fay, she’s a pistol. An automatic pistol.”

  Fay frowned and hit her uncle on the arm. He chuckled. Don found this adorable and laughed heartily, especially knowing what he knew.

  Georgia came out and looked around until she spotted them. “Well, there you are! Fay, you get over your tiff?” Her voice was high and nagging, just the — smooch your fingers — perfect mother tone.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Fay answered. “I’m a bitch.”

  Not anymore you’re not.

  Don touched her cheek. “You’re lovely, and a sweetheart.”

  Jim put his hand on Georgia’s shoulder. “Let’s leave the lovebirds alone. I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  Georgia smiled, watching them until they were inside. She was obviously happy for her daughter.

  Fay stood and put her butt against the porch rail, holding onto it with her hands. “Hey, I know! We should get married!”

  Nonplussed, Don just stared.

  “And you’ve gotta knock me up. Then we can get rid of that Not thing. Think about it. I’ll be stuck with you.”

  “One word, bitch: divorce.”

  You’re the bitch! Shut the hell up!

  “You’re the one that cried like a pussy.”

  You sure don’t sound like a Native-American deity.

  “Picked up your dialect, you country thief. Besides, I have to talk to you in a way you can understand, paleface.”

  Fay furrowed her brow. “Donny, are you listening to me?”

  Don nodded. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You would.”

  Fay climbed up and sat on the railing. Her eyes beamed with the revelation. “Then you’d have me in your clutches, know what I mean?”

  “Are you two daft? The divorce rate in America, if you tally an average score based on all the states, is at 50%. Some states are higher than that. Now, for second marriages — and by this I mean yours, Donny Boy — it’s more like 75%. I’ll have you two divorced in a New York minute, kids or no kids.”

  Don sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s no good. That Not bastard’s telling me we’ll divorce, that half the marriages in America end up kaput. Then he’s blabbing about second marriages being 75%.” He met her eyes. “I’m afraid you’re my second marriage.”

  Fay pushed herself down and sat on the floor of the porch with her back on the rail. “You never told me about your first wife.”

  “There’s not much to tell. It didn’t work out.”

  “Huh.” Fay appeared to muse that over for a while, then held out her hands. “I don’t care what that Not thing says. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

  Suddenly, the angry sun shone fiercely. Don had to whip out his shades. A couple of scorpions scurried Fay’s way, and a black crow flew around the porch, forcing Don to wince and making Fay cringe. Don shooed the crow and it flew away.

  Fay screamed, looking down on the scorpions. She all but flew back onto the railing. “Step on ‘em!”

  Don sighed and stomped on the creatures.

  “Twist your feet!” Fay added. “They can flatten to the size of a credit card.”

  Being a native Illinoisan, Don had been about to let them live. Not now. Sickening, purplish-brown goo leaked onto the porch.

  “Gross,” Fay cried.

  Don said, “That’s what happens when The Not’s pissed off. Crows and scorpions show up more than they normally would. I’ll get a towel and clean it up.” He walked inside.

  A few more crows landed on the porch. Fay shrieked and hopped down to follow Don. “I’m coming with you.”

  ***

  “You’re getting what?” Georgia’s normally pleasant voice had taken on a bass tone as she sat in the easy chair. She glared at Don and Fay, who sat on the couch. “You’ve only known him for three days!”

  Embarrassed, Don turned away and glanced at the bar, realizing he could use another scotch.

  Oh boy, here we go. You can’t blame the lady. She speaks the truth.

  Fay put her arm around Don. “Four days, actually, if you count Donny visiting us in the hospital and staying here.”

  Georgia harrumphed and shook her head. “Three days, four days, the late, great Carmex vs. Blistex debate. It’s not long enough to know whether he’s the one!”

  Don glanced at Fay, who frowned with her arms crossed.

  “I don’t have to ask your permission, Mom. He’s a nice man, unlike all the jerks I dated. He hasn’t been mean in any way. He respects my wishes and would never hurt me.”

  “You can’t know that already,” Georgia said.

  Thanks a lot, lady.

  The air-conditioner kept the house arctic. Don felt it was a little much, even though the dry heat had taken a nosedive. Jim obviously wasn’t too thrilled with the conversation because he plopped a carafe of coffee on the end table, then headed toward the door.

  Jim said, “I’ve got to get to work. Trees to cut down and all that. Fay, try not to upset your mother more than you already have, all right?”

  Fay shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Jim shook his head and walked to the door’s threshold. Then he stopped short and stared at Don. “You’re the man of the house till I get home. Don’t let anything happen to the girls. I’ll see you at supper.” He paused as if in deep thought. “You are going to look for a new job, right?”

  Don nodded. “As soon as this conversation’s over.”

  Jim looked at Georgia. “Then Ma, why don’t you take Fay for a massage and lunch or something.” H
e walked back over and handed her some money. “This oughta cover it. See you all later.” With that Jim left.

  Fay leaned forward. “I want your blessing, Mom, but with or without it, we’re getting married.”

  Georgia got up and her knees popped. She poured coffee for everyone. “Why don’t you live together for a year or two to see if it’ll work out?”

  Fay rose. “Okay, that’s it. Come, Donny.”

  Come? What am I now, a dog? Again, he mentally scolded himself. Stop taking her for granted.

  “We’re gonna visit some churches and see about the wedding, then you can look for a job.” Fay turned to her mother. “Thanks a lot for the blessing, Mom.” She held her hand out like Don had better take it.

  That poor old woman.

  Don glanced at Georgia, who’d taken her seat. She sipped her coffee, then withdrew the cup. She wore a frown. Then Don looked at Fay’s hand. She shook it as to reaffirm the gesture.

  Don rose. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Merrimount. I do love her. And I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

  Georgia set her cup on the saucer. “I don’t have any say in it, apparently.”

  Fay tugged at Don’s hand. “Come on.”

  Reluctantly, Don followed her, sneaking glances over his shoulder at Georgia. They went out into the perfect weather.

  This is such a crock of shit. New Mexico was supposed to be so great. Oh boy, Intel’s hiring, and now I’m in the middle of a nightmare — except for Fay, of course.

  Don doubted his reality.

  I can’t believe I’m getting married again! I swore I never would.

  Fay’s soft-and-warm hand cradled his as they trudged towards the car. He opened the door for her and moved the supplies Running Bear had given him to the backseat. Fay eyeballed them as she sat.

  Fay pointed to the items. “Is that the shit to get rid of that Not thing?”

  “Could you kindly tell her that I’m The Not, not ‘that Not thing’? That palefaced bitch is getting on my nerves.”

  Shut up. You’re the bitch.

  “Watch it, or I’ll make you impotent. Permanently. And she wouldn’t even like you if I hadn’t forced her to, so she is a bitch, whether you want to admit it or not.”