The Not

by A. R. Braun

  Don chuckled, his eyes still on Fay. “By God, you did it! You knew it was Pishuni turning you against me, and you fought it, didn’t you?”

  Fay smiled, showing teeth. “Once fucked, but twice a virgin.”

  Don laughed.

  Jim and Georgia burst into the restaurant, cutting off his revelry. They ran over to the table.

  Don blinked.

  Fay dropped her empty margarita glass. “Mom! Uncle Jim!” She bounded up and embraced them so tightly Don thought the old people would burst.

  As for him, he was in shock. Don rose quickly. “Georgia? Jim? But… how?”

  Fay pulled apart from them. A look of love gleamed in her eyes. Don thought that glance was mingled with relief.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you!” Georgia told her.

  Jim said, “We got called to Santa Fe because your grandma Bertha caught emphysema. Did you hear what happened to Albuquerque?”

  Fay nodded emphatically.

  “Thank God we left!” Jim added.

  Don gaped.

  Jim and Georgia exchanged looks, then Jim slapped Don on the arm.

  “Well.” Fay giggled. “Won’t you join us?”

  Georgia took a seat in the booth after Fay, and Jim shook Don’s hand, then slid in after he made way for him. Don craned his neck around, and holy shit and mindfuck miracle, was that Ben walking down the street outside the window?

  Couldn’t be. All those blond high-school boys look alike.

  But did they all wear Ben’s clothes?

  Don turned back to his party, listening to Georgia and Jim talk about how horrible it was, what had happened to Albuquerque.

  Fay glanced at him. The fire in her lovely eyes was back. “You know what, hubby? I’m starving.” She raised her hand and motioned the waitress over to take her order.

  Don trembled as he watched his wife. She’d practically had a seizure earlier, but now she sat statue-still, calm as a stoned yuppie. He stared at Jim, then at Georgia, rubbed his eyes and pinched himself.

  What in the fuck?

  CHAPTER 26

  At the checkout desk, Don tried to keep the smirk off his face as Georgia and Jim checked into the Old Santa Fe Inn. What Fay had done was inexcusable. I can’t believe her, and after what she saw happen in Albuquerque. This was their honeymoon night, after all. He and his wife were going to have some words before the fireworks started.

  Georgia’s eyes beamed as they devoured the Native-American motif. Her eyebrows rose while she looked at Fay. “We can get a room right across the hall from you.”

  “Great idea, Mom.”

  Don fought the urge to roll his eyes with every fiber of his being.

  Jim stood catatonic in front of the breakfast-burrito bar as if it were one of the seven wonders. The man was practically salivating. Don wouldn’t have been surprised if he had.

  Fay asked, “What room is directly across the hall from ours?”

  Juanita didn’t dab her eyes with a tissue tonight, apparently somewhat over her grief about Albuquerque, but despair lurked in her eyes. “That would be 208.”

  “Oh,” Georgia said. “We’ll take that one.”

  Jim strolled over, looking all of his sixty years, but a smile crooked the right side of his mouth. “They have a complimentary breakfast-burrito bar with home-made salsa.” He fixed his eyes on Georgia. “I’ll be down here first thing in the morning, don’t know about you.”

  Don sighed and turned away, fighting the urge to shake his head. He tried to pay for their room, but Jim wasn’t having it.

  “You kids save that money for yourselves,” Jim said. “It’s tough being newlyweds.”

  “We didn’t even get them a toaster,” Georgia added.

  Don looked at his watch, then glanced up and caught Fay staring at him with pain-filled eyes. She nodded as if to say, All right, all right, we’re going. If it wasn’t bad enough that his mother-in-law would be right across the hall, Fay had gone and done her damndest.

  “Enjoy your room,” Juanita told them. The smile she flashed looked as if it took a lot of effort.

  Jim stared at the card Juanita had given him like it was the key to an alien spacecraft. “What happened to keys?”

  “The modern world,” Juanita answered. “No more keys.”

  “And all the Indians are running casinos,” Georgia added.

  Very freaking perceptive, but did you have to say that in front of Juanita?

  The look on the clerk’s face was priceless.

  Finally, the small group headed toward the elevator. Fay slipped an arm around Don’s waist and looked up at him with those haunted eyes and an obviously fake smile. She’s trying, but no cigar. Still, she looked just fetching, her tanned, twenty-two-year-old skin and her amber waterfall of hair flawless. Her breasts and curves shouted for attention underneath her clothes.

  They walked out of the elevator to their rooms, Jim and Georgia looking around the hotel like Don had when he’d first arrived. At last, they reached their destination, the bellboy in tow, of course having to show Jim how to use the damned key card.

  Jim hesitated before following Georgia into the room. “Don, I know I gave you a hard time the last time we talked, but… well, congratulations. We’ll get you a toaster tomorrow.” He stuck out his hand.

  Don forged a smile and shook with him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  He grinned. “Call me Uncle Jim.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Bye, Unc’,” Fay said.

  “Good night, sugarplum.” Uncle Jim went into the room and shut the door.

  Don opened their door. He let Fay in first and fought not to slam the door behind him. She strutted over to the couch and dropped her handbag, giving him a toothy, lusty grin, then she arched her back and bit her lip. “I’ll go change into something — ”

  “How could you?” Don yelled.

  Fay’s eyes worried as the color drained out of her face. “I’m sorry?”

  “Jesus Christ!” Don stomped over until his nose almost touched hers. “And after what Pishuni did to Albuquerque!” He shook his head. “Don’t fucking deny it.”

  “Hubby, Momma will hear. Keep your voice down.” She caressed his arms, and she rubbed up against his member with her sex. “This is our honeymoon. Calm it.”

  Don yanked himself away from her and stomped over to the fireplace. “I never should’ve been so selfish. I should’ve let Pishuni take you away from me a long time ago.”

  She sighed and flopped onto the couch. “What’s your fucking problem?”

  “Pishuni gave you your mom and uncle back… and Ben.”

  Only her eyes turned toward the fireplace, the vivacious voodoo she did so well.

  That’s not going to work tonight.

  “How could you?” he reiterated.

  She furrowed her brow and met his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Don could tell she was trying to sound tough, but the schoolgirl-like whine dominated.

  He sighed. “Well, I guess I can kiss Santa Fe goodbye, the loveliest city I’ve ever been to in my life.”

  Fay eyeballed the fireplace again.

  “You’ll do anything to get what you want, you know it?” Don continued.

  Fay bounded up. She stuck her finger in his face. “Now you hold it right there! I dated an American Indian guy who lived in a home so squalid I was sure the roof would cave in on our heads! Are you calling me a gold digger?”

  “I’m not gonna get violent with you, but I will go to a bar — alone — and ruin your honeymoon unless you admit to me right now that you called on Pishuni to bring your mom and Uncle Jim back, along with Ben.” He refused to let her stare him down, which was difficult. “No, I’m not calling you a gold digger. But if you don’t come clean right now, I’m going out that door. No second chances.”

  Apparently, all the fight had gone out of her. Tears welled up in her eyes and her lips trembled. Bawling, she fell to her knees.

&
nbsp; Even though he was glad he’d confronted her, Don hated to see her like this. He put a hand on her soft back.

  When she looked up, her face was slicked with tears. “He made me… a m-man hater!” She was wracked with sobs, and her hands shook. “I lost… my… m-mom!”

  Don fell to his knees and held her. She dampened his shoulder with her tears, and he rubbed her quivering back. “Shush. I know, I know. It’s hard to say no to him.” He smoothed her soft hair and caressed it. “Come now. You’re only twenty-two. I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s sit on the couch.”

  The hot mess looked up at him, her red face a wreck. “I’m sorry, hubby.”

  “Come.” He led her to the couch, and she sat on his lap and soaked his other shoulder. Her apple butt made his penis snake into an erection. Don felt guilty about his arousal in the state she was in, but his other head didn’t.

  Fay lifted her head again. He’d already grabbed the box of tissues. She dried her terrified eyes, then fixed her gaze on him. “I won’t give him power over Santa Fe. I promise.”

  “Sweetie pie, in a short time, he’ll demand you invoke him over Santa Fe, or he’ll change you back. You have to get rid of him.”

  Fay rose from his lap and sat at the other end of the couch. She turned her lovely head his way. “Can’t we just have tonight? It’s our honeymoon.” Fay drew a few deep breaths. “Why don’t we order some champagne and enjoy the evening?”

  “No, baby.”

  She slapped the armrest. “Some husband you are!”

  “Fay.”

  “I mean, here it is our honeymoon, and you won’t even let it go for one night.”

  “Fay!”

  She rose and paced. “No, Don! I don’t want to be a man hater! I mean, I have nothing against lesbians. I tried it in college, but…”

  “Honey, he’s going to — ”

  She wheeled on him. “Goddamn you! I admitted it! Just let it go and consummate the motherfucking marriage. Be a man, for Christ’s sake.”

  Wow. I didn’t know she could be like this.

  Beads of sweat erupted on his brow now that she’d barked at him like a rabid hound of hell. He sighed and turned away, then watched the flames in the fireplace lick at nothing.

  He met her glance. “Do you promise to get rid of him tomorrow?”

  Fay clomped over and stood over him, wagging a finger in his face. “And have a dead mom and uncle? Is that what you want? Will that make you fucking happy?” She pushed him. “Is your mother dead? Huh? IS SHE?”

  “Darlin, I understand what you’re going through, really I do. Trust me, no one understands like me.”

  “Oh, fuck you to hell!” She stomped away from him. “I’m going to Mother’s!” She slammed the door so hard it made the building’s foundation shake, it seemed. It sure as hell shook the walls in the room.

  Fuck me sideways.

  ***

  Perplexed and feeling like a loser, Don stared at the flickering fire.

  Who was that? I know this shit happens when you get married, but on the honeymoon?

  His thoughts turned to his first wife. The first three months of their marriage had been euphoric. He’d worked limited hours so he could be with her more. They’d lived in an apartment instead of a house, for they hadn’t been able to afford the latter; his decreased hours were to blame for this. How wonderful it had been, though, the best time of his life. Then, when they’d decided the honeymoon was over and Don started working overtime, everything had gone to shit. Their house had not been a home.

  No way am I letting the honeymoon end this time. But what am I supposed to do with Pishuni nipping at our heels?

  As if in answer to his thought, Fay opened the door, giving him that loving look. She carried a bottle of champagne and two toasting flutes. She hipped the door shut and rushed over to him, holding him tight. “Oh, hubby, I’m so sorry.” The bottle and the flutes clinked behind his back.

  He smiled and held her. “It’s all right, baby. Shh, all right now.”

  She gingerly pulled away from him, then set the bottle and the flutes down. The fireplace was alive in her spellbinding cobalt eyes. “I want us to have the best honeymoon ever.” Her smooth hands held onto his and were so small — compared to Don’s, at least — he was afraid he’d break them if he squeezed too hard.

  “Unc’ sprang for the bubbly.” She poured some champagne, which they moved over to the fireplace to sip. “All we need now is a bearskin rug.”

  Don brought his flute up for a toast. “To the happiest newlyweds ever.”

  “Cheers, babe.”

  Clink.

  Fay climbed onto him, her back against his chest and her firm ass against his member, leaving him sprung. They sipped flute after flute until the bottle was empty.

  He caressed her belly, then her chest, the excitement working toward a fever pitch.

  She stood and tossed her hair out of her eyes, holding onto his hand and giving him a naughty look. “Let’s make a little love, baby.”

  Don rose and followed her into the bedroom where she stripped off her clothes, then helped him out of his. She pushed him down on the bed and crawled over him, kissing him fervently and giving him tongue. She covered his chest with kisses, and she worked her way down to his member. She teased the shaft before she took him into her mouth.

  He groaned with pleasure.

  She swung her body over and positioned her sex so he could eat her out. Don indulged, doing his best to use his tongue like a porno star. He ate her so voraciously he actually became high.

  I didn’t know that was possible.

  After a spell, she pulled off his face and nibbled his ears and his neck. He caressed her on the back of the neck and just above her behind — two of her erogenous zones — making her cry out in pleasure. Don went at her breasts. He flicked his tongue around the nipples, leaving a spit trail, and took the breasts into his mouth and devoured them.

  Apparently ready for the full attack, Fay lay back on the bed. She spread her legs and helped fit him inside. Don pumped slowly at first, kissing her neck and gingerly squeezing her breasts. Then she told him to fuck her harder, and he obeyed, using every ounce of his strength so that her head bounced off the headboard.

  He groaned. She moaned. She even grunted and squealed.

  When he was ready to cum, she said, “Don’t you dare cum yet!” A half hour later, she cried out “Now,” and he climaxed, but once was never enough. They smoked a few cigarettes and went at it again. This didn’t stop until 4:30 in the morning. He came ten times, amazed by a stamina he’d never possessed before. Somehow, the sex was better now that they were married; before, they’d engaged in sport-fucking; this time, they’d made love.

  Fay had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face he’d ever seen, along with that look in her eyes. “I love you so much, sexy hubby.”

  Don gingerly touched her cheek. “I love you more.”

  “Love you more.”

  “Let’s not play this game, babe. It’s a tie.”

  “Umm.” Fay rolled over. “Dream about me, baby.”

  Don lay on his back and tried to go to sleep, yet rest didn’t come. All he could think about was Fay’s decision to call on the sado-god.

  Will that destructor ever go away?

  He looked at his watch. At 4:50 a.m., he got out of bed and threw on the complimentary robe from the bathroom. He skulked into the living room and looked at the bright lights adorning Santa Fe.

  What a gorgeous city. Sadly, this is probably the last time I’ll see this.

  “Well, well, well, looks like checkmate, paleface.” A voice said from behind him. “Get a good look. Those lights won’t be gleaming for long.”

  He wheeled on him. Pishuni lurked in the fireplace, the crackling flames comprising his face. His two black eyes with spikes pierced Don; blinding prisms of light jutted out of the edges of the fire and made the miasma the room had become look like a kaleidoscope.

 
“You can’t come to me anymore, motherfucker,” Don said. “I got rid of you.”

  A hand with scaly skin and long black nails shoved its way out of the fire and waved its index finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah — wrong answer. I’ve got your better half, paleface.” Pishuni enjoyed a hearty laugh. As soon as he did, thunder roared outside the window. Rain pelted the panes of glass. Apparently, Fay was a sound sleeper, because she didn’t wake up and come out of the bedroom. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You shunned me, so I took your woman. Didn’t think I’d be that clever, huh? Heh. Now I have the right to share your household. She hated being a dyke, you know. Some women don’t mind, but your wife, she’s nuts about you — me knows why.

  “You’re such a doofus, Dilbert Dumbbutt.”

  Pishuni threw his head back and barked laughter. Lightning bolts burnt through the sky and shook the ground when they struck. The deity’s eyebrows furrowed as he scowled. “I’m the one that helped you cum ten times, but your wife, she came fifty. I promised her she would.” He snickered. “You really shouldn’t underestimate me, Donny Boy. Your woman, she couldn’t take the grief of losing her mommy and her uncle.

  “SO YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME.”

  A god or no, Pishuni had worked his last nerve. Don balled his hands into fists, yelled at the top of his lungs and charged the fireplace. “YOU BASTARD.”

  But before he reached Pishuni, he stopped short.

  The deity was gone.

  CHAPTER 27

  After the confrontation with Pishuni, Don sat down in one of the grey chairs — which he’d moved to face the fireplace — and stared at it, waiting for the deity’s return. He wanted to wring the god’s neck. Pishuni didn’t show, and despite his anger, Don fell asleep. He dreamed of Santa Fe’s destruction, similar to the way Rio Rancho and Albuquerque were obliterated.

  A knock woke him in the morning. Blinding light streamed through the curtains. Don’s eyelids fluttered, then he rubbed his eyes, feeling as if someone had strapped a bowling ball to his head. He looked at his watch: 9:00 a.m. The fire had burned down to smoldering embers. He wiped away the lip scum and deposited it on a tissue, then forced himself to his feet. He traipsed to the door.