The Vicarage Bench Anthology (26 page)

“Naw! I just wanted to hurt you. The truth is, I like you, Joey. I’d never kill you. You’re the only person ever treated me square.” The honesty slammed into Joey’s consciousness. The big guy wasn’t lying. Those words settled Joey’s nerves somewhat, and had him looking around for an explanation.

Before he could decide what had happened, people on the street ambled over with curiosity and questions. In no time at all an ambulance had been sent for, the coppers arrived, and Joey was being escorted to the hospital along with the big man’s body.

“Don’t leave me, Joey—I mean, don’t leave my body. I’m scared! I have to find out what this is all about. The doctors can tell us, can’t they?”

“How the hell do I know? And how the hell am I going to explain what happened, when I have no idea myself? They’ll stick me in a looney-bin if I tell them you’ve popped into my body while yours is freaking passed out.”

“Don’t leave, that’s all I ask. I’d do it for you, Joey. Honest!”

“Look, I’ll stick around for a while and see what they say. Calm down, and stop trying to take over my thoughts.”

“Okay, sorry, Joey. Don’t be mad.”

Chapter Twelve

Two days of silence tested Ash’s patience to the limits. He’d tried every way he knew how to interact with his inner guest, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with him. Other than the occasional “Humph!” or an angry snort she’d left him pretty well to his own devices. He was lonely, perplexed and getting more fed up by the minute.

“There’s a huge, nasty-faced bulldog following us. Crystal, did you hear me? What’ll I do? The sorry-looking brute has been pacing us since we left the house. His bloodshot eyes are tracking every move I make, his slobbering mouth wants to chew on me, and his limping gait keeps coming. It’s driving me nuts. I stop, he stops. What the heck does he want?”

No answer.

“Go home, Killer! Scram!” Ash waved his arms towards the animal and encountered a brooding resistance. The dog sat awkwardly, head tweaked, while mismatched teeth protruded from his bloody gums.

Ash began walking again, only to sneak a peek and find his forlorn friend tagging along, still shadowing him. This time he kicked towards the animal threateningly and yelled, “Beat it.” The animal waited patiently but didn’t even hint at leaving.

“If you don’t talk to me I’m calling the pound and having them haul the big bugger away, I swear it, Crystal.”

Ashley, at the end of his tether, exhibited an ornery behaviour not normal for his even disposition. His chivalry had taken a beating. After all, she was condemning him for caring, for trying to save her, for keeping her safe in the only way he knew how. To make matters worse, she was even ignoring his plea for help with the stupid animal behind him. “Cantankerous woman!” he muttered out loud. “Torturing me, hiding from me, sneaking around inside my own body.”

He felt her presence, and her refusal to interact with him was like being cut off from his inner self. The forlorn feeling of abandonment spooked him. At this point he’d do anything to get her to talk with him again. Worst of all, he missed looking at her—seeing her lovely face and bright-eyed liveliness. He wanted to hold her and kiss her. What a sorry-assed hero he was.

“Don’t do this, Crystal, don’t push me. I’m getting mad, and there’s no telling what I could do.”

Still no answer! His patience waned. “All right! No more Mr. Nice Guy!”

“Nice guy, my foot! You’re an idiot. The dog is in pain. He wants to come to you.”

“He wants to eat me, you mean. No way! I don’t like dogs that much.” She’d finally opened to him, all because of an ugly dog. He crossed his arms and didn’t move.

“Quit being a baby. Just bend down and wait. Don’t make any moves and don’t talk. He’ll come. You’re his last resort. He’s dying, Ash, and if you don’t help him he’ll keel over in the ditch and be gone by morning.” The pleading note in her voice sobered him.

“How do you know?” Ash, shaking off his childishness, knelt down and bravely waited.

“I don’t know how I know it, I just do. I told you, I have an affinity with animals. Trust me, he’ll come because for some reason this knack of mine must have passed over into you when I did. Here he comes. Don’t move. Just wait.”

The lame, nasty-smelling, pitiful animal crept forward. Ash didn’t move. His knees were bent and his hands rested, hanging between them. Miraculously the dirty velvet head of the mutt slid under his fingers, meek, subservient—done.

Ash had never seen an animal in worse condition. From a distance he’d looked huge, but as he limped closer it was obvious that skin and little else covered the skeleton of his back and stomach area. His jowls and neck hung in loose mangy wrinkles.

“He’s starving, for one thing,” Ash stated, shock gripping his fastidious brain. His hand closed over the dog’s ear, and he gently wriggled the sagging skin.

A whining sigh escaped from the animal as it collapsed. He lay over on his side, spread out before Ashley as if to say, “I’m yours. Do with me as you will.”

The sobbing inside tore at him. He couldn’t hold the despairing girl, and he wanted to, more than he wanted to breathe. Her pain radiated throughout his body and would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there. How could one dainty girl’s heart suffer so deeply?

“Help him, Ash. Please, help him. Take him home to the doctor. He’ll know what to do. The poor fella’s covered with infection, his sores need cleaning, and antibiotics can save him. Hurry!

Without hesitation, the man carefully hefted the large bundle of bones into his arms and, making his way carefully, staggered back to the house on the corner.

Hours later, the animal lay quietly on a blanket in Ashley’s room. He rested more easily when near Crystal’s spirit. Dr. Andrews wiped his hands on a small towel and beamed toward Ashley, who knew the look wasn’t meant for him at all. Crystal’s newest admirer had known exactly what to do.

“He looks more like a bulldog than a mastiff, but I’d bet my bottom dollar he’s a mix of the two. Probably why he’s so gigantic.”

Under the doctor’s watchful eye, Ash had managed to get some sustenance into the monster, using a plastic spoon and lots of patience. Considering the size of the gaping fangs and wide slobbery mouth, lots of the liquid trickled out, but with surprisingly competent handling, much of it also ended up in the dog’s stomach.

Sitting back on his haunches, Ash grinned at the doctor while massaging the now clean brown-and-white-spotted coat spread out before him. The whine of acceptance acknowledged his petting.

“Crystal, my dear, this dog would have expired tonight if he hadn’t found you when he did.”

“Truthfully, Doctor, Ash helped him…”

Ash interrupted. “No, if you hadn’t forced me, honey, I probably would have walked. I’m not that comfortable with big animals, and this old bugger is huge, even in his sickly state.” Ash’s blunt response rang with candor.

The doc cleared his throat. “Actually, he’s still a pup, not more than a year or two old. He’s been through a rather hideous past. I’ve noticed old scars on him. Looks as if someone took a stick to him, and more than once.”

The doctor gathered up his paraphernalia, intending to leave the room, but he stopped in the doorway with his parting shot. “I’m surprised he came near a man at all.” He shook his head, his expression sad, then sauntered out.

“The poor baby. I hate that humans can be this cruel, Ash. I’ve seen it so often, but it still tears at my heart.”

Her despair washed over his senses. Thankful that she appeared to have forgiven him, he made a promise then and there to always respect her connection to the creature world.

She’d opened the floodgates, willing to share her fundamentally loving nature, and he’d never experienced anything like it before. With uncanny insight he began to understand the essence of the woman inside him. She was goodness—clean and shiny-bright—so bright that every living thing sensed the miracle God had sent specially for them.

Love for her sucked out other emotions, leaving him focused on one thought only: he adored her, and as he accepted it, so did she. Reciprocated love filled all the pores and cells throughout his body.

“I love you, Crystal. I adore you. And you love me. You can’t hide it. I feel the heat of it burning inside me.”

“I don’t want to be in love. I don’t want to need anyone. In my whole life, I’ve never been able to trust people as I do my animal friends. My mother only stuck around long enough to name me. Then she took off and left me to look after three lowlife brothers and a selfish father. They never cared, either, except for the comfort I could provide for them. Once I left home, I swore I’d never place myself in a subservient position to any man ever again.” She fought to suppress her earlier sweet feelings.

“It’ll be different with me. You can trust me, my love.”

“How can I trust you when you don’t trust me?”

“What are you saying? Of course I do.” His soothing inner voice switched from tender to out loud and indignant.

“You’ve proven otherwise. If you had faith in me, you wouldn’t be letting me hide like a coward inside you. You’d let me stand next to you, so that I could protect you at the same time as you protect me. I’ve never wanted to be the little woman depending on a big strong man—it’s not the way I want to live my life. If I can’t be equal as a full partner, then I’d rather be alone.”

Although his mouth filled with denying words, his mind filtered them and stopped their utterances. This thought transference played tricks. He sifted her words through his consciousness first and realized she asked no more of him than he would demand for himself.

She asked him to respect her worthiness and to trust her in exactly the same way he demanded that she—no, forced her to—trust him. By tricking her with the rose thorn, he’d belittled her dignity, her independence, even her ability to handle Arnie, whom she’d already taken on unflinchingly. And while defending him.

“Sweetheart, I’m truly sorry. I promise in the morning we’ll undo the spell. I’ve never been made to put myself in someone else’s place so strongly before. It’s been a huge, enlightening lesson. You may have to keep reminding me from time to time. My mother and sister trained me to believe that women are weak, needing to be pampered and babied, but I’m learning. I won’t try controlling you in the future; I’ll just love you.”

“Just when I want to smack you silly, you prove me wrong about men. I guess some are worthy of respect and love. You are. And you’re the only one I’ve ever met who can make me dizzy just from being in the same room.”

That night burned in Ashley’s memory for all time. The fervor inside, pools of lust and wanting, retreated for a time, overcome by waves of tenderness and sharing. His Crystal doll revealed stories of her life while he regaled her with tales from his childhood. He talked about the times his big brother Rhett had bailed him out of one scrape after another, and how he’d even taken on their mother at her worst, to protect Ash from her wicked fists.

Crystal admitted to losing all faith in men because of the behaviour of the males in her family, how they’d used her from the time she was old enough to take on the household chores. She shared her experiences of arriving in Vegas and soon after finding herself on the stage she’d designed, performing in front of the masses, something she’d never done before in her life but loved. They talked and talked, learning about each other, enjoying each new facet.

The pale morning sun peeked through the sheer curtains as Ashley finally fell into an exhausted doze. She woke him a few hours later with her husky voice reminding him of his promise and the trip he needed to make to the hospital to gather a body. They had a date with the vicarage bench.

Chapter Thirteen

“Joey. You know what? I like living inside you. I especially like it when you look in the mirror and I see your face instead of mine. I’ve always hated my face.”

Arnie grated on Joey’s nerves more each hour they were superimposed. He never let up. His mind jabbered all the time, mostly pleading with Joey to have a cigarette. Arnie’s chain-smoking habit had disgusted Joey, who’d had his mind made up at an early age to abstain. He knew exactly when he’d made the commitment to clean lungs. The day his mom caught him, an eleven-year-old with a fag in his mouth, and had made him inhale cigarette after cigarette until he’d hurled. Man, he’d been sick.

As an effective treatment, it ranked high—as a blue ribbon contender for mother of the year, maybe not. Dr. Spock be damned, she’d done to him what her mother had done to her. Curing him of the want to follow his peers worked out for him as a child, but he still had to live with the disgusting smell around him all the time as an adult. The casino reeked day and night. There he had no say, but in the privacy of his own place no one had his permission to smoke. Well, almost no one.

“Arnie. Did you ever once see me with a cigarette in my mouth, eh? Nope, you didn’t. Therefore, why the hell would you think I’d change my habits for you? It ain’t gonna happen, so lay off.”

“Okay, sorry, Joey. Don’t get so cheesed off. You’re tighter than a virgin inside here, and I’m just trying to calm you, loosen you up a bit. Know what I mean?”

“Arnie, I’ll relax when you’re back in your own body. You’re driving me bonkers with your non-stop blabbing.”

“I’ll shut up if you do me a favor. One small easy favor. Go and shoot that Parks bastard. It’s his fault we’re in England, in this crazy place. He should pay, Joey. As long as he’s walking around, I can’t relax. He’s probably the one who put this stupid curse on us. See, I figure after you shoot him, we’ll revert back to normal. That’s what I think.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think, and I can’t wait to get you outta me. I’m not shooting anyone, so shut up about it. The only thing I’m gonna do is go back to the hospital and see what the hell those white-coated quacks are doing to get you to wake up from the coma.”

“Maybe I don’t want to wake up. Did you ever think of that? I like living with you—as you.”

Joey sensed a switch had been turned in his mind. As if he’d lost all control for a few seconds. Fear welled up.