Once Upon a Caveman (3 page)

“Rhawn!”

His
eyes snapped open at the shout.  The world was still quaking underneath of him,
but the dark comfort of the dream had faded.  The cave felt twenty degrees
colder without the warmth of the woman beside him.  He turned to look towards
the paintings on the cave wall as if she might somehow still be standing there
looking at them.  An echoing hollowness filled him when he saw that Lucy was
gone.

But
then, she’d never really been there, at all.

It
had all been a dream, hinting of what was to come.

The
legends of the Clan had long predicted the
Ardin
, a battle between the
gods.  A heroic man and an evil woman would return to the island in its final
days and determine the fate of the world.  The Savior would pluck the worthy
from the sinking island and lead them to a glorious new home.  The Destroyer
would try and stop him, wanting to doom them forever.

No
one knew which deity would emerge from the fight victorious.  The last
chronicle would be written by the gods and their respective followers, during
the
Ardin
.

The
final days.

These
days.

Rhawn
stumbled to his feet and made his way to the mouth of his cave.  He’d
deliberately picked a spot away from the others.  For obvious reasons, Rhawn
didn’t do well with neighbors.  His visions ensured that they did not welcome
him in their midst.

No
one welcomed him.

His
home sat on the southern end of the island, with an unobstructed view of the
ocean and the volcano.  Every day the waves below got closer.  When he was a
boy, he remembered the vast width of the beach and the variety of animals that
had lived on the island.  Each passing cycle saw the land growing smaller and
the creatures growing rarer.  The water was swallowing them so quickly.  He
wasn’t sure if the entire island would sink before the Clan ran out of food or
if they would starve before the final plunge occurred.

One
way or another, they would all be dead very soon.  It was inevitable.

Rhawn
reached the entrance and blew out a long breath at the sight of the unforgiving
sea.  It was so close, now.

“Rhawn!” 
Notan, the Clan’s leader climbed up the twisting pathway to Rhawn’s cave.  In
his youth, he had been the Clan’s greatest hunter, but then a mammoth stepped
on Notan’s leg and left him with a permanent limp.  The old man’s hair was gray
now and he supported himself on a walking stick, but righteous anger kept him
moving at a quick pace.  “What have you brought upon us?”

Damn
it, why did things like this always happen to Rhawn?

He
was deemed responsible whenever anything went wrong.  His dreams.  The color of
his eyes.  His massive size and lack of intelligence.  It all worked to ensure
that Rhawn was the scapegoat for every unsuccessful hunt and bad omen that came
the island’s way.  He was forever hated by the other members of the Clan, no
matter how hard he tried to be worthy.

Of
course, they’d blame him for the
Ardin
.  He’d been marked by the gods. 
He had dreams of their lands.  The Destroyer had sought him out.  For better or
worse, his destiny was tied to the darkness.

It
was Rhawn’s own fault they distrusted him.  As a child, he’d told Notan about
his dreams of “Newyork.”  The old man was understandably alarmed by the
possible ramifications of Rhawn’s curse.  After that, he did his best to keep
Rhawn away from the others in case of contamination.  Rhawn couldn’t even blame
him for it.

“Of
course Rhawn is to blame.”  Skoll, next in line to be the Clan’s leader,
sneered in derision.  “We all know he is in league with the Destroyer.”

Skoll
stood behind Notan, offering protection in case Rhawn went crazy.  They were
continually prepared for him to do something dishonorable or deranged.  Skoll
would undoubtedly be pleased if Notan died and he could assume control of the
Clan, but he also had designs on Anniah, Notan’s daughter.  He needed to at
least put in a pretense of caring about the old man.

“Rhawn,
the Accursed, tell us all you saw or suffer the consequences
.
”  Notan
thundered.  None of them found Rhawn worthy, but they always wanted him to
reassure them about his dreams.  Everyone knew they often happened in
conjunction with the shakings.  “The day of the
Ardin
grows closer. 
Have you at last seen the Destroyer’s unholy form?”

The
familiar question struck him as darkly hilarious.  Rhawn roared with laughter,
while the land shook, and their island sunk ever deeper into the bottomless
sea, and the end of the world loomed on the horizon.

Notan
and Skoll stopped their approach and watched him warily.  He could tell they
were thinking he was just as stupid and sinful as they’d always believed.

Maybe
they were right.

“Yes.” 
Rhawn got out.  “I finally saw her.”

Every
inch of that dark-haired, green-eyed, soft, treacherous, deity from the magical
land of Newyork was burned into his mind forever.  The Destroyer might’ve been
the embodiment of strategic genius and all-powerful evil…

…But
she was also his mate.

There’s
a caveman staring at her.  A really big, really handsome one.

Lucy’s
eyebrows soar.  Her prom night has been such a total loss that she’s fallen
asleep in her stupid dress, but suddenly things are looking up.  She’s having a
sex dream about a really big, really handsome caveman!  Cool!  Usually, she
just gets random crap about singing Boston Terriers or being late for an AP
English exam.  She’d much rather dream about a half-naked hottie.

“Hi!” 
She says eagerly.

The
caveman tilts his head to one side, like he is amazed at what he’s seeing.  Amazed
by
her.
 
For two seconds, he just stares.  Then he shakes his head as if to clear it and
starts purposefully towards her.  His expression is intent, his eyes scanning
up and down her body.  He seriously looks like he’s ready to ravish her or
something.

Lucy
smiles.  Oh yeah.  This dream is going to be awesome!

Rhawn
and Lucy’s First Dream- Fifteen Years Ago

“Tony
the Cruise Director hates you.”  Marnie-from-third-period-bio stage-whispered. 
“Like
a lot
.”

Lucianne
Meadowcroft sighed and took a sip from her watery margarita.  “Yeah, I
noticed.  Thanks.”

“It’s
because you didn’t show up for the official class reunion picture this morning
or the mixer last night or the…”

Lucy
cut the list short, getting right to the bottom line.  She was a bottom line
kinda girl.  “It’s because he’s married to Taffi and Taffi still hasn’t
forgiven me for wearing the same dress as her to prom.”

Tony
and Taffi were the reason Woodward High School’s fifteenth reunion was being
held on a four day Caribbean excursion out of New York harbor.  Tony’s job on
the small –correction: “boutique”-- cruise ship had gotten everyone a really
great discount.  But, if Tiffany “Taffi” Dawson could’ve found a way to loose
Lucy’s invitation for the trip she totally would have.

The
biggest mean girl at Woodward High, Taffi would
never
get over that
stupid poufy ball gown.  To hear Taffi tell it, Lucy should have known when she
touched the hanger at Macy’s that Taffi had
already
selected an
identical bouffant vision of blue and lace.  Taffi insisted that Lucy should’ve
somehow psychically intuited Taffi’s prior claim.  Sadly, Lucy’s nonexistent ESP
hadn’t picked up any prom-y signals that day.  By buying the same dress, she had
singlehandedly ruined Taffi’s “MOST IMPORTANT NIGHT
EVER!!!
”

God,
just remembering the screaming and tears in the ladies room of the gym gave her
a headache.  Fifteen years and it was still a recurring nightmare.  She hadn’t
even
liked
that damn dress.

Lucy
finished off her watery drink and gestured to the bartender to get her
another.  What the hell was she doing on this cruise?  Bad enough to be in high
school.  Worse to get suckered into a reunion once you escaped.  But, to be
stuck on a boat with the same people she’d desperately hoped
never
to see
again after graduation was just fucking stupid.

It
was all the Alumni Committee’s fault.  They’d plastered the event all over the
email inboxes of every former student, promising a long weekend of unimaginable
fun.  It had all sounded like one of those travel commercials with the colorful
sunsets and pretty people playing volleyball.  In a rush of nostalgia, Lucy
recalled her teenage life in Clovis, New York like a misty water-colored filmstrip
of football games and slumber parties.  For the half-an-hour it took her to buy
her nonrefundable ticket, the trip had seemed like a great idea.

Now
that sanity had returned, she was suddenly remembering that the slumber party
thing was actually a scene from
Grease
and that Woodward High’s football
team sucked.

Lucy
had hated high school.  Granted,
everyone
hated high school.  But, girls
with snarky personalities, twenty extra ponds, and a low tolerance for other
people’s stupidity
really
hated it.  Lucy had been the kid whose report
cards always read, “academically brilliant, but has a bad attitude” or “talks
back and refuses to join in with other kids.”  Well, she
liked
having a
bad attitude and she
didn’
t like the other kids.  High school had been a
nightmare.  No way was she pretending otherwise.

So,
what the hell had she been thinking signing up for this boat trip to relive it
all?  Temporary insanity was the only explanation.  Still, Lucy wasn’t about to
walk away from so much cash.  She’d
paid
for this miserable trip, which
meant she was damn well taking it.

Even
if she didn’t want to.

Thanks
to her brief moment of amnesia and stubborn refusal to write off a week’s
salary, Lucy was stranded on the high seas with a lot of annoying people
screaming “Go Woodpeckers!” every ten minutes.  She wasn’t exactly sure who
most of them were.  Her brain must have blanked out half the class in an effort
to shield her from remembering the horror.

No
wonder she’d never bothered to buy a senior yearbook.

Marnie-from-third-period-bio
leaned in closer.  She probably had a last name, but Lucy didn’t know it. 
Maybe it started with an “A”?  She’d definitely been in Mr. Sonovich’s biology
class, though.  Lucy distinctly recalled throwing a frog at her.  “You were
always the special one, Lucy.  I think Taffi was maybe a little jealous of you.”

Lucy
rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, that
must
be it.”

She
would never understand why everyone in Clovis insisted she was special.  Sure
Lucy had a perfect SAT score, but so did a lot of other people.  It was hardly
the stuff of legend.  For as long as she could remember, though, they’d all
been poised for her to do something great.  Something
important
, so that
the dying town could finally have a citizen to be proud of.

Well,
if they were pinning their hopes on her, they were in for a long damn wait.

“Hey,
what are you wearing to formal night?”  Marnie asked with dramatic concern. 
“It’s not red, is it?  Because Taffi’s dress is red.  If you wear the same
dress as her again…”  She trailed off, letting Lucy’s imagination fill in the
rest.

Lucy
paused with her drink halfway to her mouth.  “
Shit.
”  She looked over at
Marnie.  “Her dress is red, too?”

Marnie
bobbed her head, going pale.  “Oh God.”  She was a bubbly blonde whose greatest
achievement in life would always be her status as an alternate on the cheer
squad.  At age thirty-three, there was still a yellow and blue ribbon in her
hair.  “What are you going to do?”  She gasped in genuine horror.  A tragedy of
this magnitude froze her round face into an overly mascaraed jack-o-lantern. 
Wide eyes and a gaping mouth, with nothing but the faintest flicker of light
illuminating the empty interior of her skull.

Airhead
or not, Lucy didn’t blame Marnie for the look of fear, though.  Taffi’s reaction
to Lucy’s red dress would make the
Lusitania
seem like a Disney cruise. 
The tantrum would ruin a trip that was already teetering on the edge of “maybe
I should swim for shore” rotten.

Wonderful.

Typically,
Lucy wasn’t a big drinker.  When she drank, she did stupid things, like get
tattoos.  But, alcohol really was the best option here.  She belted back her third
margarita and slammed the glass back down on the bar top.  “I have to go find
another dress.  The ship has a gift shop, right?”

“On
level three.  You’d better hurry.  Dinner’s in an hour.”

God,
this whole weekend had been
such
a mistake.

Lucy
headed for the elevator, brooding.  She hated high school reunions even more
than she’d hated high school.  Maybe it would’ve been different if she’d become
the kind of super success everyone had imagined.  She’d been valedictorian of
the class.  The smartest kid in school.  She was supposed to go out and change
the world.

Obviously,
the world had made other plans.

If
she’d had a super-terrific job or even a husband and some cute pictures of their
2.3 kids to pass around, maybe she wouldn’t feel so miserable.  But, in the
end, Lucy hadn’t been nearly so special as everyone assumed.  All she’d
accomplished was getting a master’s degree that couldn’t land her a job beyond checkout
clerk at Barnes and Noble and having a social calendar so empty little
tumbleweeds sometimes blew across the blank squares.

Hell,
the closest she’d gotten to a man in years were her dreams.

Actually,
the dream last night had been the best part of the trip, so far.  Soundly
beating highpoint number two: free Mardi Gras beads with every drink.  (There
were only so many strands a girl could wear and still look respectable.)  Last
night, though, she’d fallen asleep on her small balcony, rather than go to the
tedious class mixer.  The antisocial tendencies thing, again.  Mrs.
What’s-Her-Name the guidance counselor would’ve been so disappointed.

In
her nostalgia-and-travel-commercial fugue state, Lucy had sprung for the
upgraded room.  Rather than eat dry chicken with morons, she’d figured she
might as well enjoy the sea view that VISA would be charging her twenty percent
interest for until the turn of the next millennium.  It had been a warm evening. 
She’d been wearing her favorite silk nightgown, staring up at the stars and
feeling lonely.

Lucy
always felt lonely.

Maybe
she really should just buy a cute little dog.  She was always talking about
it.  Dogs seemed easier than people.  No matter how much she disliked joining
in, she’d always wanted somewhere to belong.  Somewhere she’d feel welcome. 
She’d just never found it. 

When
Lucy nodded off, she’d been seduced by her caveman.

Since
high school, she’d been dreaming of the same guy.  Bits and pieces of him,
anyway.  Just enough to make her feel depressed and achy to wake up by
herself.  About once a year, give or take a couple months, he showed up and it
was always like Christmas morning to see him, again.

Looking
at the caveman, everything seemed to make sense.  It seemed like he was the
place she’d been searching for.  The spot where she belonged.

…But
in the morning she was always alone.  It was like the caveman was taunting her,
showing her all the things she could never have.  Hell, she’d gotten a
paleontology degree, because she’d been so caught up in the fantasy of being
closer to him.

Sometimes
it seemed like the caveman was the realest part of her life.

Usually,
Lucy just had fragments of him, but this dream had been so clear.  So
real
. 
She’d been able to see him better than ever before.  Her caveman was… perfect. 
No one else could compare to his long tawny hair and big calloused hands.  He
was handsome and tender.  And
huge
, with a chest straight out of an
action movie and the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.

Last
night was better than any real sex she’d ever had and they hadn’t even gotten
to finish.  He’d wanted her so badly he was shaking.  For a second, he seemed
to get overwhelmed by his desire, but then he got himself under control and
started touching her like she was delicate.  Like he was afraid he might hurt
her.  Despite the fact he could probably bench press a car, he’d been careful
with her.  She always felt safe with the caveman.  Cherished.

…And
incredibly turned on.

God,
all she had to do was think about him and her pulse kicked into overdrive. 
This time it had seemed like she might get to finish
in
the dream.  That
would’ve been a first.  And she’d been so
close
.  But, right as things
were about to get interesting, it got all earthquake-y and symbolic.  Typical. 
Lucy had jerked awake with her body weeping for him and her heart pounding.

Also,
the straps of her nightgown had been torn.  That had been weird.

The
elevator door binged open and Lucy shook her head.  She started for the small
store, still thinking about the dream man.  His name was Rhawn.  She’d always
wondered about that.

Since
he only existed in her mind, she supposed she could’ve just made up a name for
him years ago.  It had never occurred to her to do that, though.  Crazy as it
seemed, she’d always known he’d tell her when he got the chance.  Just
giving
him a fake name wouldn’t have meant nearly so much as him sharing his real one. 
Which was completely crazy, but…

“Moose-y!”

She
froze at the dreaded nickname, horror filling her.  Faith came easily in times
of disaster and she began to pray for a miracle.  “Don’t let it be Warren. 
Don’t let it be Warren.”

Warren
Ples appeared, conclusively proving that God hated her.  “Well, I don’t know
what all those rumors are talking about.  You haven’t packed on
too
much
more weight since graduation.”  He gave her a thumbs up.  “Good for you.”

The
hate.  The
hate
.

It
swept over her again, the clearest memory of her high school experience. 
Warren was Satan in a letterman’s jacket.  Every day for four years, she’d
detested breathing the same air as Woodward High’s “star” quarterback and now
she was right back in the pit with the bastard.