Sapphic Voices Romance

A Fate Of Fire

Part Two

four

In between the short April showers children played in the narrow streets of Old Sugar Land waving to the thugs driving tricked-out, souped-up Hondas vibrating from the heavy bass of rap music.

By invoking the powers of the Holy Virgin and the saints, in the name of the Holy Spirit, they cast spells for love, money, and healing while Socorro herself dealt especially in all matters concerning death. She could talk to the recently deceased, and if an old person was dying or a boy had been shot she could tell the exact moment they would take their last breath.

As Bailey rode the narrow trail, the over grown driveway towards the trailer she caught sight of the fat, old, woman Socorro in chick-yellow knit pants and a purple t-shirt with a turquoise dolphin on the front. She was in the process of watering a monstrous aloe plant on her porch.

She did not wave just looked up as she dumped a coffee can of water onto the smooth green tentacles. The gaze was piercing and to Bailey seemed to shoot disapproval like hot lead.

She decided not to wave either, not to be rude but she was not sure if she should since they had never met.

She brought Old Maime to a stop in front of Felice’s boxy, little, manufactured home with an unkempt yard. Safely past the Mexican witch she let the heat of desire return and warm her just below the waist.

Felice leaned out of a window.

“Hey,” she called getting out of the truck, beginning to suspect that her new girlfriend was never ready in time for anything.

“Hey yourself,” she grinned back, “Come on in.”

Bailey let herself in shutting the door behind her, Felice stood in a narrow hallway off the living room; she was breathtaking in a little, red, silk robe.

“Get yourself a beer,” she called, “I’ll be right out.”

Bailey looked around not sure what to do. She walked to the small kitchen and opened the fridge, got a beer out and stuck the top under the hem of her shirt, twisting it open.

She noticed that the kitchen was full of small vases of spring flowers; they lined the windowsill above the sink, while two graced the table. They were in various stages of wilting and some looked like they needed to be thrown out.

On her way back to the living room she saw another vase of flowers on a decorative table. Bailey sat on the couch and looked around, Felices’ place was comfortable, the furniture was plush, over-stuffed.

There, of course were pictures on the wall not of the country landscape-velvet Jesus/Elvis/unicorn-deer-in-the-starry, mist-type. One was of a sleeping woman lying on colorful blankets in what looked to be the desert at night a lion stood close by seemingly inspecting the woman as she slept. Another was a portrait of a Latina with a sharp face and her dark hair pulled back, one black eyebrow arched over both eyes.

“So what do we have planned for tonight?” Felice joined her still in her robe.

Bailey shrugged. “What do you feel like?”

Bailey hoped they had finally run out of artsy places to go to, so far they had visited the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, the Menil, the Rothko Chapel, and a half-dozen small galleries, and coffee shops featuring poetry slams.

Felice kissed her. “Let’s go to Ms. Go-Lucky’s tonight.”

Bailey sighed. “I wanted to have a quiet evening.”

“All of our evenings so far have been quiet,” Felice said, “It’ll be fun I promise.”

She had been trying to get Bailey to go to a lesbian bar since she found out she had never been to one. She did not fear the crowds of women Bailey imagined, terrifyingly beautiful and leering at her sure she was not one of their own.

“Bailey?” Felice asked waving her hand a little, “Come back to me now.”

Embarrassed she shrugged her eyes darted around the room and saw another vase. She was sure the Slasher sent them, and all the others, and Bailey was almost sure that Felice still saw her ex on occasion.

“Sure why not?” she blurted and took a sip of beer.

“You’re nervous,” Felice gave a little grin, “The left side of your mouth gets into this tight crooked line when you get nervous.”

Bailey touched her face self-consciously. “I never noticed.”

Felice climbed into Bailey’s lap, taking her beer and holding it in her hands as she wrapped her arms around her neck, “Not that I don’t like quiet evenings but a little change is due I think.”

“Nice flowers,” Bailey tried to say blandly, while trying not to look down at Felice’s nipples stiffening under the robe.

Felice craned her head and looked at the nearest vase. “Oh yeah,” she said, “They are I guess.”

“Yeah,” Bailey did not agree.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked.

“Nope,” Bailey said.

Felice stood disengaging her lovely legs one by one. “I guess you’ve figured out who sent the flowers. Is that what bothers you?”

“What does she do, send them every other day?” Bailey asked, obviously the Slasher was trying to win Felice back by bombarding her with flowers, showing that she had not forgotten about her that she was constantly on her mind. She was confident enough not to give up. Sure that the flowers would not be tossed out in the garbage as they came.

“Look at you all sour,” Felice sighed, “Yes, she sends them about every other day, its really getting to be a bother.”

“Why do you accept them?” Bailey asked.

“I don’t know,” Felice looked shocked, “I’m trying to put distance between me and the Slasher and I’m trying to bring you closer, if you’d allow me.”

Bailey did not say a word, a splendid trick had been pulled instead of focusing on the Slasher’s gifts the discussion had slid stealthily to her own shortcomings.

“It’s only been a few weeks,” Felice said, “Maybe we should not expect so much from each other. Of course I’m not seeing her anymore, and you’re not being withdrawn on purpose.”

She sat and leaned close.“Agreed?”

“Ok,” Bailey sighed allowing her face and neck to be kissed, sure she had been low-balled.

“Now, take me dancing,” Felice begged she wrapped her arms around her neck, “We’ll have a good time and we’ll meet people.”

“Alright,” Bailey relented tugged at her close fitting t-shirt “Do I look ok for that?”

“Oh, Baby you look just good enough to eat” Felice grinned then leaned over to capture her bottom lip between her own. She moaned a little as they kissed running her hand up and down Bailey’s arm.

The last two weeks had been hard on Bailey, she had been accused more than once of being distant, withdrawn, and she did not understand why that could not be accepted as one of her personality traits like Felice’s bubbly gregariousness. She actually struck up conversations with people in the checkout line to Bailey’s horror.

Felice she stood pulling at the hem of her robe and padded to her bedroom to get dressed. Bailey was now beginning to suspect Felice knew of the power she had, her grandmother had probably taught her some witchcraft down in Mexico.

..........

The music thumped like a massive heart’s beating, Bailey’s own seemed to quicken to match it. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness a sudden contrast from the purple and blue behemoth neon sign that announced the place. For a second the few women in the foyer looked like ghosts, white shirts glowed a soft blue from the black lights above.

Felice tugged Bailey inside the foyer of Ms. Happy-Go-Luckys’ and was greeted by a blond with a buzz-cut.

“Long time no see,” she grinned and turned to Bailey sticking out her hand, “Who’s this?”

“This is my new squeeze,” Felice said.

“Cute,” the blond smiled, and they shook hands.

Bailey blushed as she was led into the club; a spacious dance floor behind a pair of heavy violet drapes held back by thick gold rope. There was a massive bar and group of tables and chairs, most of the women who sat there stood to welcome Felice. She used to dance there she told Bailey over dinner and had a lot of friends at Ms.-Happy-Go-Lucky’s.

She stood straight as she was introduced and sized up by them.

“Cute,” some of them said and Bailey tried not to reveal that she felt like she had REDNECK tattooed at her naked nape.

“She’s the strong and silent type,” Felice explained.

Some of the women looked on bitterly, “You haven’t been by in a long time Felice,” they said.

“Will you dance for us tonight?” they asked.

“She will not,” Bailey said but no one heard her, unlike the other women she did not know how to talk over the music.

“No, not tonight” Felice smiled, leading Bailey towards the bar, and stopping to talk to another woman.

Bailey wandered on thirsty for a beer, a petite black woman with a scarf over her eyes wandered towards her blindly reaching out and touching her face. She grinned, stood on her tiptoes (for a second Bailey thought she was Olivia) and kissed Bailey right on the lips.

Everyone around them cheered. The woman returned to her previous height, pulling off the blindfold laughing. She saw whom she had kissed and gave a sexy grin, standing once again on her toes wrapping her arms around Bailey’s neck.

“Bailey,” Felice was pulling the back of her shirt, “I can’t leave you alone for one minute.” All the women laughed, except the player of the kissing game.

Bailey apologized, “I didn’t mean to ruin your fun.”

“Kiss her again, Joan,” someone yelled, “Then throw her back.”

Joan was peeved at having lost her prize, but she decided to settle for the kiss.

Bailey looked around at Felice who nodded permissively.

The other woman wrapped her arms around her neck for one last kiss, her hair smelled like roses. Again returning to her normal height Joan put her blindfold back on and went around groping faces and necks finding someone else to kiss.

“You liked that game,” Felice grinned still leading Bailey to the bar.

“What’s it called?” she asked.

“Touch. As childish as spin the bottle” Felice said pulling her close, “That bitch put her phone number in your pocket Bailey, maybe I should have just left you in Arcola, didn’t know I actually have it made, you being unexposed to this scene.”

“Yeah,” Bailey did not agree pulling Joan’s card out of her pocket, “How about a beer?”

“Sure,” Felice said.

The bartender was a stout red skinned woman with her auburn hair honed into a yet another buzz-cut, she took their order.

Felice smiled. “You actually kissed that woman, Bailey.”

“I didn’t want to spoil the game,” she said.

“Oh you’re slick,” Felice laughed, she had finally decided on a little pair of sling back sandals, she wore a denim skirt with high splits up the sides and a sleeveless blouse made in the peasant/hippie style: a thin material trimmed at the hem with tiny embroidered flowers.

She downed her beer and watched people stop to talk to Felice, they asked about her art, about the Slasher, and she would turn and introduce her. She engaged them like a generous starlet touching shoulders, holding on to hands a while after the initial handshake.

Bailey let her eyes roam around the place, there were pulsing lights suspended from the ceiling that swirled and turned bathing the dancing women below, she also saw the women dancing on great black blocks, helped up and down by sturdy butch bouncers. The dancing women wore sequined clothes that sparkled like jewels under the whirling lights.

“So you danced here,” she said when they were alone, “You wore clothes right?”

“Bailey, of course I wore clothes,” Felice laughed.

“Skimpy stuff?” she nodded towards the nearest block, a lithe black girl shimmied and bent her knees dropping suddenly on her heels, shaking one superb ass, then bouncing right back up straight.

Felice nodded, annoyed seeing the focus of her girlfriend’s attention.

“Wow,” Bailey leered imagining Felice up on the block in very short blue jean cutoffs and a bikini-top her hair piled up on her head and held cleverly with those stick things.

They watched women go by.

A Tejano song blared through the club in a blast of bass and accordion.

Felice smiled slyly, she got off the stool and took Bailey’s hand. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t dance,” Bailey said.

“You don’t dance?” Felice asked in disbelief, “Of course you do.”

Bailey shook her head. “Really, I never have.”

“Not even by yourself?” Felice asked tugging her hand.

“Maybe when I was a kid,” Bailey said.

Felice gave her another tug, pulling her off the stool.

“Come on,” she said, “All you have to do is move with the music.”

Bailey followed her onto the dance floor where Felice began to swivel her hips and move her feet.

She tried to copy but began to feel foolish, she stood stagnant watching all the other people, a lot of them not dancing as well as Felice but still having fun, grabbing their partners or alone.

“Like this,” Felice put her hands on Bailey’s hips, “Watch me.”

She slowed her steps and Bailey did the best she could, at least Felice was having a good time.

When the song stopped and a slow one came on she leaned into Bailey kissing her neck.

“Mi Amor,” she said with relish, “You dance beautifully.”

They stood closer in each other’s arms, Felice swaying a bit to simulate dancing.

“Now this is more my speed,” Bailey said.

“Our first slow dance,” Felice sighed, “Like our first kiss.”

They danced until the song ended and the DJ began to talk, some annoying chick named after a luxury car, she knew that everyone loved the next song, and added that all long necks were two dollars, and Jell-O shots were only one dollar.

Felice laughed when she saw Bailey wincing, they went to the bar and had one of the famous Jell-O shots, two apiece, and returned to the dance floor and danced to several seemingly endless remixed pop songs.

Though her reservations against dancing did not disappear they faltered a bit and Bailey felt her joints loosen she was surrounded by all sorts of women glowing as they grinded suggestively towards each other. It was the stuff of her wildest dreams.

She grabbed Felice and did some grinding of her own.

Bailey’s burst of energy was short-lived because after-all she was drunk. Her date was still going strong and tried to pep her up.

“Is that all you got?” she asked literally dancing a circle around her.

She shrugged and actually yawned.

Felice stopped and caught her by the arm. “C’mon, Baby let me take you home.”

“Sounds good,” Bailey said sagging a little.

“I know you aren’t drunk from a few beers and some Jell-O shots,” Felice aided her once they were out the door by sliding her shoulder under Bailey’s armpit.

“I had wine at dinner,” she said in defense, then, “I can barely keep my eyes open,” she threw her head back laughing making the two of them sway under her weight.

“Yeah, Mi Amor, you’re going to have us rolling on the asphalt,” Felice warned as she helped her to the car. She somehow managed to get her into the passenger seat of the Cabriolet.

“You have to get out more,” she laughed as she buckled her in.

Bailey dozed off during the ride back to Sugar Land. When she opened her eyes and smelled the warm moist air and heard crickets sing their mating chorus just in key with the locusts above them in the trees.

“You’re staying with me tonight,” Felice grinned as she helped her into the cool air of her boxy little house that smelled of dead and dying flowers.

Bailey did not care she was wondering if the crickets and locusts felt the same satisfaction when they finally found themselves a mate.

She was led to Felice’s bedroom and given a black Woodstock t-shirt to wear.

Bailey found herself shaking slightly, suddenly sober, nervous of the woman who walked around the room switching on a lamp, and tying her hair back.

She sat down on the bed her back to Bailey. She bent and undid her little sandals, stood and shimmied out of the skirt and brought the shirt over her head.

Bailey gasped sharply, Felice was wearing a black thong.

She turned around, her breasts quivered. “Bailey?”

She knew such a garment existed, but it seemed so exotic, a Hustler girl thing.

Felice read her mind, and burst into laughter. “Everyone wears these now.”

“Sorry,” Bailey stammered, “It’s very nice.”

Felice grinned. “I bet,” she walked over and kissed her cheek, “I’m glad you’re going to be here tonight, Bailey, I didn’t want to be alone. Don’t be nervous I just want to sleep next to you but whenever you’re ready we can do more than that.”

Bailey looked away then back at her. “Yeah that’s…good, cause I am nervous.”

“That’s just fine,” Felice put a hand to the side of her face.

Bailey stood and took off her t-shirt, she pulled on the t-shirt she had been given it smelled like fabric softener and Cape Jasper.

“Are you going to sleep in your jeans?” Felice asked as she pulled back the covers on her bed, the rustle of bedclothes made Bailey realize how sleepy she was, “I have some shorts-.”

“That’s ok, if you don’t mind,” she climbed right in wearing nothing but her t-shirt and embarrassingly enough a pair of floppy white Granny- Pannies.

“No I don’t,” Felice said.

“What time is it?” Bailey asked.

“Nearly three,” Felice said cheerfully.

“That’s why I’m so tired,” Bailey collapsed on a pillow.

Felice lay on her side and watched putting a hand to the side of Bailey’s face, “You need a haircut.”

“I always do,” Bailey murmured turning onto her side to face her, “I like your bed it’s really comfortable.”

Felice scooted closer laughing in the dark and kissing the bridge of her nose so close it was unbelievable.

“Thank you,” she said, “I like a girl who can appreciate a nice bed.”

Bailey smiled a little and yawned, Felice opened her arms and she entered them resting in the curve of her shoulder, face close to her neck.

“This is nice,” she thought to herself and drifted to sleep.

She was awake three hours later because that was what her body was used to. She remembered the cows and groaned a little, they went crazy if she was even fifteen minutes late getting them their feed.

Bailey sat up slowly her head was throbbing. “I gotta go feed the cows.”

“What?” Felice asked, “Are you serious?” she rolled onto her side, “Its six o’clock in the morning.”

“They’re used to eating at a certain time,” Bailey pivoted her feet onto the floor.

“You’re leaving?” Felice asked she sat up her eyes were still squeezed shut.

Bailey laughed a little despite the pain in her head. “Jackie will starve to death, she’s eating for two you know.”

“Can’t they chew their cud until you get back?” Felice asked.

Bailey laughed again then lay back in bed. “My head hurts. You got aspirin?”

“You’re not seriously leaving?” Felice asked again cracking one eye open she anchored her head on Bailey’s chest and held on.

“The cows,” she whined.

“They can wait a few hours, we’ll get up early,” Felice bargained, “At ten.”

“Ten? Ten o’clock” she did not think she had ever slept so late.

“Yes,” Felice insisted.

“Alright,” she relented sliding back into bed and back into her arms, “Only because I’m working on three hours of sleep here.”

“Of course,” Felice cooed.

She fell asleep for two more hours she woke up bored out of her mind staring the ceiling, watching Felice sleep. She thought of all the stuff around her house that needed to get done, the place needed mowing and she had planned to go out to the feed store for supplies and the cows were probably worrying themselves into a frenzy as the morning progressed.

As if aware of Bailey’s worry Felice shifted in her sleep snuggling closer, sliding an arm across her waist.

..........

The old mower shuddered spewed sheets of shredded grass as it shuddered along around the chinaberry tree chewing up its clumps of green, fallen fruit oozing milky-white sap.

Bailey hummed “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah,” her back teeth vibrating like tuning forks, the top ones clattering with the ones on the bottom. Her jaws thrummed and felt heavy, she wondered if this was how Ed felt on a daily basis.

“Cha harr harrrr,” she laughed at the blue sky.

The sun was sinking past its noon position and shinned on the left side of her face.

“Cha harr haarr,” she laughed at cousin Jonnie.

“So you did it with her?” she asked grinning.

“No,” Bailey stopped the mower but dared not turn it off for fear it would not start again, “None of your business.”

“Yeah,” Jonnie answered, “I heard those cows calling for their breakfast all morning, too bad they were starving in vain. I hope you’re not scared of that woman.”

“What you catch?” Bailey changed the subject.

“Not a damned thing, but rabbits and possums,” Jonnie sighed, she wore her sweat-stained white t-shirt with the green sleeves and the word, sharp, “I think we killed off all the fun game.”

“Hell,” Bailey said, “Our dads, our granddad-.”

“It’s driving me crazy,” she pleaded, “Maybe we could go out together and hunt.”

“Maybe, next weekend,” Bailey said, “I’m busy.”

“Shit,” Jonnie spat impatiently, “I’ll die before then.”

Bailey laughed, nervously, Jonnie enjoyed a kill a little too much, the little sociopath.

“How about tomorrow morning we hit some targets?” Bailey caved, longing a little for some time in the woods, doing a little bit of stalking, at least Jonnie knew when to shut her trap, she was quiet as a moss patch when they were tracking.

“Yeah,” Jonnie grinned, and to show her appreciation she brought up her older cousin’s love life, “Ya’ll gonna do it tonight?”

“None of your business,” Bailey told her.

“It doesn’t make sense for you to be scared, I mean since you got her, obviously she wants you,” Jonnie shook her head, “A hot piece like that just on your porch like a fucking package delivered to the wrong address-”

Bailey took a bandanna and wiped her face. “There’s more to a relationship than… that.”

“You can’t even say it,” Jonnie laughed, “The word is fuck, Bailey, you better or the Slasher will.”

“Jonnie, will you get outta here?” Bailey scowled accelerating the mower with a quick tug at the control lever instead of easing it out of idleness. It bucked like an unruly horse and shuddered towards the house.

“If you need any help feel free to call me up,” Jonnie called after her, “I saw some Waters girls out playing and I think I’ll go spy ‘em.”

“Asshole,” Bailey muttered.

One of Jonnie’s arrows hit the porch railing, swift enough to be magic.

Bailey got off the mower and turned around to see the back of Jonnie as she dashed into the woods like a rabbit.

She climbed the porch steps and pulled out the arrow. “Good shot.”

Bailey regretted sharing any of her personal life with Jonnie. Though she was right, it was dumb to be nervous women had not changed since her last sexual encounter. She watched the cardinals flying through the tops of the pines, there had not been so many around since she was a teenager, this year there was a crowd of them, and the bright red birds were as regular as sparrows or crows.

“Hey,” Felice appeared around the side of the house with several plastic grocery bags in her hands. They had agreed to spend the afternoon apart for chores and work.

She glanced at the woods to see if Jonnie was gone before she welcomed the Latina with open arms.

“Bailey you look gorgeous,” she grinned, “You change when you’re at home, it’s like you blossom.”

“You look good too,” she told her girlfriend.

“I look like shit,” Felice grumbled, “Forty is gonna kick my ass, I swear.”

Bailey led her into the house. “I don’t believe that.”

She went to the kitchen for some water. Felice followed complaining about what she referred to as the cruel trick nature had set her up for.

“You get any work done?” Bailey changed the subject.

She shook her head and watched Bailey fill up a glass of water.

“Sometimes its just impossible for me to work, I always have some reason to do anything but use my fucking head to think,” Felice put the bags on the table and sat down.

“Thirsty?” Bailey asked.

“No,” Felice answered.

She gulped down the glass of water. “What did you bring?”

“I’m going to make stuffed jalapenos,” Felice announced.

Bailey raised her eyebrows, her stomach growled. “I have to see this.”

Felice began to remove ingredients from her bags. “You don’t believe I can cook?” she asked.

“Stuffed jalapenos?” Bailey was in disbelief, “ I’ve always thought they were some kind of kitchen sorcery.”

Felice laughed. “Kitchen sorcery?”

“My Dad called every one of my Mom’s dinners that,” Bailey said, “He said she worked magic, ‘cause we didn’t have much money.”

Felice produced a brown paper bag, and tore it open revealing a dozen shining green jalapenos. “My aunt grew these peppers,” she said, “It’s a sign. There’s going to be some magic tonight.”

Bailey grinned, she watched as boneless fish fillets were unwrapped from white butcher’s paper, rinsed and minced to mush then soaked in lime juice squeezed out of her own hand under Felice’s supervision.

The peppers were put two at a time in a little pot with the handle broken off, which was put in a bigger pot of boiling water and covered so they could get soft in the steam. The jalapenos returned beaded in their own sweat and pliant. Felice cut a cunning slit on the sides of the peppers. She cupped them in her hand causing the narrow wound to widen and stuffed them with a little thick, white cheese, fish and shrimp that Bailey had been honored with the tedious task of cutting into tiny pieces. When she closed her hand the wound gaped revealing all the stuffing.

“Ask me something” Felice said as she rolled each stuffed jalapeno in a batter.

“What?” Bailey asked.

“Anything,” she answered, “We’re trying to get to know each other, we should ask questions.”

“Ok,” Bailey went silent, thinking of what to ask.

Felice left her work and came to sit next to her at the kitchen table, “Don’t make it hard.”

“Ok,” Bailey said, and asked the first thing that popped into her head, “Where’d you go to high school?”

“I skipped around these schools, then my junior year I learned to drive and started at the arts school in Houston,” Felice said and widened her eyes, “Ask me something shocking.”

“Uhh,” Bailey shrugged, “You ever date a man?”

Felice smiled taken aback.

“That’s a question I did not think you were capable of,” her smile faded, “Yes. I went back to Mexico for a while about fifteen years ago, he was an artist too. He abandoned me out there.”

She went back to rolling the jalapenos she began to dip them one at a time in hot grease for about a minute each. An absentminded look crossed her face, “No. I abandoned him but I did not get far I left him for the Slasher.”

“Oh,” Bailey said.

“Oh,” Felice mimicked, “No comment? Just, Oh?”

Bailey shrugged.

“Let me guess, you’ve never been with a man?” she asked, “Its so easy for tough butch girls like you. I was always too damned cute, and vain…way too vain. A girl takes good care of herself and the guys automatically think it’s for their benefit.”

“Did you love him?” Bailey asked.

“Hell no,” Felice laughed, “Have you ever been in love?”

“I guess,” Bailey said, “Once.”

“Olivia,” Felice said.

“Yeah,” she nodded then stopped and shook her head, “No. I wasn’t in love with Olivia.”

Bailey sighed, and thought of her old girlfriend always looking over her shoulder and peeking around corners, making sure she did not stay too long to look after her patient, Bailey’s Dad, making sure they were never seen together in public by restricting their relationship to the confines of Williamson place.

“Don’t feel bad,” Felice said, then shook her head and smiled, “You ready to eat? And get out the beer, we’ll pig out, burn up our tongues and get tipsy.”

“I’ll get some plates,” Bailey said.

Later, the fifth alarm was still going off in her mouth when she walked out onto the back porch and stretched in the darkness. She sucked some of the night air inside of her mouth but it did not work. She was in agony. Bailey lit a few citronella candles to keep the bugs at bay, and a lantern for effect.

Behind her Felice came out on to the porch and sat in the bench swing Bailey had installed when she found out how much they liked to sit outside at night.

She sat next to her leaning over to kiss doing anything with her mouth to relieve the burning, she moved to Felice’s neck then lips, she smiled putting her hand at the right side of Bailey’s face, tracing her thumb along the scar.

“What happened that day?” she asked, “When you were burned?”

Bailey sighed heavily. “I –I can’t talk about that, not tonight.”

Felice captured one of Bailey’s hands in her own. “I just want you to know that I would like to know.”

“I was fourteen,” Bailey said, “ One day I was strong, beautiful, invincible, and the next I was an ugly, helpless thing that had to start all over.”

“Bailey,” Felice whispered and kissed her cheek.

They hugged.

“Anyway,” Bailey sighed, “I’m doing good now. Really good.”

She lifted her hand to touch the corner of Felice’s mouth, her rough draw-fingers loved the smooth soft skin, and the skin loved them right back. Her knuckles were kissed as was the palm to which they were attached.

“Let’s make love,” Felice whispered.

Bailey turned her head to look her, Felice raised her eyebrows.

Felice stood. “Come on, show me your room.”

Bailey stood slowly and led the way to her bedroom. It once belonged to her folks. She switched on the light, and sat on the edge of the bed.

Felice straddled her lap, settled like a fever wrapping her legs around her waist. Felice began to unbutton her shirt. Bailey pushed it over her shoulders and pulled the white tank top underneath off.

Her breasts heaved trembling in the open air, Bailey lowered her head and caught a nipple the color of cherry-wood between her lips and felt it shrink instantly into a hard round peg. She ran her tongue over the morphed flesh, while her hands, clutched Felice’s waist discovered the hot curves of her lower back and ass that ebbed and surged like molten lava; tides that were driven by Bailey’s touch.

Felice arched her back gracefully as Bailey’s kisses trailed low around her belly and straightened when her lips returned to her breasts.

They stood and she undid Bailey’s jeans, she pulled them to the floor, then helped remove her shirt and sports bra, for the first time seeing the scarred breast, a slightly raised contour of flesh with a warped nipple, the other an athlete’s breast well supported by muscle.

Felice gave an almost awed sigh and kneeled to kiss them, she rubbed one cheek across the scarred breast as she kissed the other.

She wriggled out her of shorts and underwear. Bailey sat up and watched her lithe body return. She pulled her close relishing the supple warmth of her skin, the sexy solidarity of Felice, there in her arms, naked.

Bailey tried to consume her with kisses, a hot ache grew between her legs and when they parted she tested it with the flat of her hand.

Felice watched, and claimed that hand for herself she took the three fingers that for so long had done nothing more erotic than pulling back a bowstring holding until the aim was just right then letting go.

She kissed the fingers, and trailed them down the side of her neck, between her breasts, over her navel lower until she was satisfied with her aim and let go.

Bailey’s fingers went past the hot, wet, fleshy folds and deep into her. Felice lay across her lap hips swaying and bucking a few times, she moaned.

She settled on top of Felice, a leg on either side of her waist, she felt her lover’s own legs part ready to receive her.

She was on fire then, she had forgotten what a woman could feel like once ignited, how they expressed pleasure through kisses and touch. She was startled when Felice moaned and called her name, her body stiff, her back arched.

Bailey remembered what it felt like to let go, and give her fate over to this different kind of fire.

five

A furious knocking at the window made her jump out of bed and nearly out of her skin. She looked over at Felice who went on snoozing.

“Jonnie Boy,” Bailey groaned, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt putting them on as she went out the back door.

The new morning was sliding on out of the western darkness greased with dew. Jonnie’s feet were soaked in it, gluing strands of grass to her red sneakers.

“Well?” her cousin asked.

“What?” Bailey asked wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“You do it with her or what?” she asked, “There’s got to be a reason you’re not out here shooting with me like you said.”

“Aww fuck,” Bailey murmured, “I ought to slap you to next Thursday Jonnie,” she turned to go back into the house.

“Where you going?” she asked.

“Back to bed you lunatic,” Bailey banged the screen door shut.

“Its time to get up anyway, cows are hungry,” Jonnie said.

Bailey bent and put on her work shoes, there was plenty of time to feed the cows and join Felice back in bed before she knew she was gone.

“So what’s the hold up?” Jonnie asked on the way to the pasture, “When are one of these sleep-overs gonna end up with you between her legs?”

“Christ, you never give up do you?” Bailey asked, the cows trotted over from their morning meeting under the mulberry tree, their hooves were stained purple.

“She’s too much woman for you,” Jonnie warned, “Sophisticated, I bet she’s done it all twice…if you know what I mean.”

Bailey unlocked the barn and went to the feed barrel she scooped out a couple of buckets and went around to the trough.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” she said pouring out feed into the trough, the cows watched waiting for the stale bread to be served. She turned with the buckets walking past her cousin back to the barn.

“She’s an old slut,” Jonnie spat.

Bailey stopped in her tracks and turned around. “You don’t know a damned thing about her.”

“Niether did you, but you still fucked her,” Jonnie said, “Turn her loose, Bailey.”

She shook her head. “She’s a very beautiful woman that’s all, she glows from the inside out and she makes me feel the same way.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Jonnie said, “When you know she’s still seeing that boxer.”

She pretended to ignore her and went on inside the barn for the bread, when she came back out her cousin was gone and the cows were still waiting. Bailey fed them and got out her bow and target, she took them to the backyard so Jonnie would not see and come bothering her again.

The sound of sharp broad heads penetrating foam targets calmed Bailey.

She had to push away the visions she had of the boxer with the ebony skin making love to Felice. She squeezed her eyes shut, imprinting the black lines of the bulls-eye on to her brain, she shot from the outside of the target rings, then going inwards one ring at a time, trying to make a neat line that led to the bulls-eye, it was a little game she played with herself.

“Hey,” Felice appeared in a pair of shorts and one of Bailey’s work shirts. She had two plates in her hands, “Look at you. I’m impressed.”

Bailey climbed the porch and kissed her, she saw eggs on the plates.

“What are you grinning for?” she asked sitting at the pretty little white wrought iron table, with the matching chairs.

Bailey shook her head sat with her feet in a patch of sun on the porch, eating spicy eggs. “I’m gonna get fat if you cook like this all the time.”

Felice smiled. “I’m a little rusty. I like cooking, it’s like art, except it’s not how it looks it’s how it tastes.”

“Hmm,” Bailey mused.

Felice smiled at her as they finished eating. “Would you shoot some more for me?”

“Alright,” Bailey stood she went back out into the yard and retrieved her arrows.

“Your bow has pulleys on it,” Felice commented as she inspected the bow in its ground stand.

“Makes it easier to pull,” Bailey picked up the bow and eased the nock of an arrow onto the string she pulled back and let go sending the broad head into the heart of the target.

“Neat,” Felice touched the top of Bailey’s arm.

“Here you try it,” she handed over the bow, “Fit the string in this plastic backing, its called the nock” Bailey showed her how to turn the arrow so the third vane of the fletching the odd colored vane faced out.

“See this vane is white while the other two are green,” she explained, “The tip of the arrow rests on the little ridge there on the handle.”

“Like this?” Felice asked, she then wrapped her entire fist around the string and attempted to pull it back.

“Wait,” Bailey laughed patiently, “You only need three fingers to draw,” she tapped Felice’s thumb and pinkie into a tuck against the other woman’s palm.

“Put the nock between your pointer and middle finger,” Bailey explained, “At the first joints. Now you pull back, in one swift strong move.”

Felice started off slowly instead and could not pull the string far enough.

“It’s made so resistance will be greater at mid-draw, and smaller at full-draw,” Bailey explained, “Try it again.”

She did straining to a little less at full draw, she let go and the arrow flew about five feet away and clattered to the grass.

“Well I can say that I tried,” she laughed and turned to kiss Bailey, “I like it better when you do it anyway.”

“What are we up to today?” she took her hand and led her to the porch.

“How about Galveston?” Felice said she leaned against the railing and kissed her cheek.

Bailey grinned. “Give me twenty minutes.”

..........

As they passed Socorro’s she was throwing out a big orange cat in the same movements she had when throwing water on the aloe plant.

Felice waved jovially then turned to Bailey. “You have to meet my aunt one day.”

“She’s not going to tell me how I’m going to die is she?” Bailey asked.

“No,” Felice laughed, “Not unless you pay her.”

She looked up at her little house and gasped. “What’s the door doing open?”

Bailey stopped the truck and jumped out walking towards the house Felice tried to rush past her but she grabbed her arm. “We should go call the Sheriff’s.”

Felice snatched her arm away with a violence that shocked Bailey. She watched her run to the house.

“Shit,” she stood in the doorway for a second then leaned over in a half faint.

Bailey ran to catch her lifting Felice to her feet, she looked inside and saw that the place was wrecked, flowers were strewn all over the little deco table lay on it’s side.

“They might still be in here,” Bailey insisted trying to get her to leave.

Felice shrugged her off and stumbled inside, she followed her passing through the house and seeing the destruction. In the kitchen dishes were smashed, pots were dented, and food rotted on the floor.

Felice’s bed was turned over her clothes dashed around her bedroom. Paints were dumped onto the carpet, canvases had holes punched right through and sculptures were shattered.

“Who did this?” Bailey asked, “Who would do this to you?”

Felice turned to face her, crying her chest hitched and she began to sob.

Bailey collected her and got her out of there, she took her back home and put her on the porch swing with some of her Daddy’s old Scotch.

“It was the Slasher wasn’t it?” Bailey asked, “She destroyed your home.”

Felice nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m gonna call the sheriff or something,” Bailey said, “She’s not going to get away with this.”

Felice grabbed her hand. “Not right now ok, just stay with me.”

“Ok,” Bailey hugged her outwardly calm but inside she was pissed, she wondered how else the Slasher had hurt Felice.

“I’m such a fool,” she said, “But she just keeps popping back up in my life, I confused persistence with love.”

“I should have said something,” Bailey said, “I’d always suspected by the way you talked about her that she did not treat you right.”

Felice said nothing, only snuggled close to her.

“She never hit you,” Bailey said touching her face.

“No,” Felice answered, “Margo bragged that she knocked out women two times her size, that she would kill me if she ever hit me, it was a threat. Our friends said I was crazy to leave her, just when she was making it big.”

“And how did she take it?” Bailey asked.

Felice began to cry. “She just said that she would not let me ruin her chance at fame, she acted like it was no big deal that I just left. She said that there are plenty of women more beautiful than me who would kill to have what I had, that she would have no problem finding one.”

Bailey kneeled in front of her clutching her hands.

“So that’s how important I was to the Slasher,” Felice sniffed.

Bailey held her, not sure of what to say. “I’ll never hurt you,” she told Felice.

She got no answer, and did not bother Felice for one; her own words had stunned her enough. She took Felice inside and let the Scotch put her to sleep for the evening.

Bailey went to the barn as darkness descended like the shade of some giant bird of prey. She retrieved her bow and arrows and walked out through the pasture to the woods.

She walked to Red Pond the filmy glow of a pen-light guiding her, it was once an obscure rendezvous point for lovers and young criminals, the litter of soiled condom foils and sun faded beer cans remained part of the landscape.

Jonnie was out there she had dug a shallow hole and was making a fire in it, seeing her cousin she stood. “Well lookie-lookie.”

Bailey waved for her to sit back down, she squatted by the fire across from her.

“Where’s your woman?” Jonnie did not waste any time.

“She’s tired,” Bailey rubbed her eyes that were fixed despite of themselves on the fire blazing brighter by the second.

“Did you make her tired?” Jonnie leered.

“The Slasher came and destroyed her house, last night while she was here,” Bailey said.

“Really?” Jonnie poked at the fire with an arrow, “What she do to it?”

Bailey ran down the list of damages.

“Just imagine what she could do to your face,” her young cousin commented, “Better start carrying a knife, there’s only one way to put down a bitch like that.”

“I’m not knifing anyone,” Bailey said wearily.

“You know what I’d do?” Jonnie asked, “I’d find out where she worked out cause the bitch most likely has to live in a gym, and when she was coming out, I’d be waitin’ with my bow and shoot her through the gut.”

Bailey laughed and began to poke at the fire with a stray stick, “And they’d stick my ass under the jail.”

“She sounds really pissed though, like her and your woman got more going on then you think,” Jonnie said, “Destroying her house, that’s what’s called a crime of passion, she really cares for her.”

Bailey stood. “Care? It seems more like she wants to possess her like she’s a thing.”

Jonnie shook her head. “What’s the difference?”

“You’re looney,” Bailey told her.

Jonnie ignored her she produced some arrows all tied together with a piece of cloth binding the heads. She untied the cloth and dipped an arrow into the fire it caught like a match. She picked up her bow strung the flaming arrow and shot it up into the air.

Bailey watched as it arced lighting up the night as it went, leaving behind darkness, finally falling into the pond.

“You’re gonna set these woods on fire,” she warned.

“Try it,” Jonnie shot another.

“Might mess up my bow,” she sighed.

“Miss out then,” Jonnie shot another, whooping as the flame dies when the arrow hit the water.

Bailey finally lit one and shot it, for a moment it could have been a comet catching oxygen from the air and burning faster.

“You should just ask her,” Jonnie said.

“Ask her what?” Bailey asked.

“If she’s still fucking the Slasher,” her cousin answered, “Cause I bet she is.”

“I will not,” she insisted, “I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Jonnie asked, “You deserve to know.”

Bailey did not reply, she only lit another arrow and sent it flying. “What are we doing this for?” she asked.

“Fun,” Jonnie shrugged, “Remember fun old lady?”

“Fuck you,” Bailey grinned her second arrow hit a tree burning as it was caught in the branches, the flaming head burned off the shaft and fell to the ground.

When the arrows were gone they sat back down around the fire, ghostly moths had detected the light of the flames and flew too close.

“Maybe those two are on again off again types, they’ll be together forever in the mean time they’ll break it off every two weeks,” Jonnie reasoned.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bailey insisted, angry for allowing herself to be used, it was so obvious Felice would not even call the police on the Slasher after she had destroyed her home.

“If you want her that bad, lay down the law,” Jonnie said, “She wants to be with you she needs to give up the Slasher.”

Bailey sighed. “ I mean…I think I’m flat busted in love with her.”

Jonnie shook her head. “Damn.”

..........

Bailey felt her anger rise again when they returned the next morning to clean up the house.

She helped Felice pick out a new door, and plywood for the windows, and a Wet-Vac for the carpet, and after a long afternoon of work, she figured the place was salvageable.

Felice quietly sifted through her things, her clothes had not been damaged so she packed them all away. Bailey could not get her to say much, so she left her alone and began to board up the windows. When she heard the rumble of a big vehicle she looked over her shoulder to glimpse a monstrous black SUV rolling towards her. She stood and turned ready to meet the Slasher.

She was about five-eight the color of upturned earth with broad slanted shoulders, well muscled arms and super-heroine abs. Her raven black hair was stylishly plastered to her head.

“Well what the fuck do we have here?” she asked.

“Who are you?” Bailey asked stunned at the hostility from a complete stranger.

“I’m sure you know me,” she smirked.

Bailey shrugged, she knew she was talking to the Slasher, “I guess you know about me. You knew she was with me the other night so you came and wrecked her place.”

The Slasher came closer she had one of those struts Bailey envied, “Is that what she’s saying?” She stopped about an inch away.

“It’s what I’m saying,” Bailey answered.

“I hope you don’t think she gives a damn about you,” The Slasher shook her head sarcastically, “She was talking about you the first day she met you, she was telling some friends of ours how she met this woman, that reminded her of a Goya painting.”

Bailey did not move a muscle, she did not say a word, she was stone, impenetrable, impermeable, a living breathing fortress.

“You don’t know what that means,” the Slasher said, “Let me dumb it down for you. It means you’re a tragedy, a walking, talking, living, breathing tragedy, inspiration for her art, she might fuck you but I seriously doubt it.”

Bailey flinched, burning up with anger, but she was scared. She never had been a fighter, never had been a talker, so she just stood there not so stolid any more.

The Slasher looked up as the door behind them opened. “You get the hell away from her, Margo.”

Bailey turned to see Felice standing in the doorway.

The Slasher did as she was told and stepped away from Bailey. “I came to talk to you.”

“Fine,” Felice said, “So talk.”

“Alone please,” the Slasher said trying to talk polite through teeth clenched in anger.

“Bailey, can you go inside a minute?” Felice asked.

She did not budge, she stood solidly adjusting the bill of her Comet’s cap as the other woman sized her up and summed what she thought of Bailey with a quick dismissive toss of her head and an indignant millisecond of breath pushed through her lips.

“It’s ok. Really,” Felice insisted putting a trembling hand to Bailey’s elbow.

She felt her lip curl involuntarily. “I’ll be right inside,” Bailey said and went in waiting just beside the door frame eavesdropping.

“I can’t believe you’re choosing that freak over me,” the Slasher said as the door closed, so Bailey could hear, “I can actually get you someplace in life.”

“Bailey is a beautiful person,” Felice said “I don’t expect you to understand that Margo.”

“What is she a grease-monkey or a damned wanna be cow puncher?” the Slasher asked,

“Don’t you know I can get you so much more? I’m gonna be fighting in Vegas next week, it’s gonna be on HBO.”

“Is that why you destroyed my home? To get me back?” Felice shook her head.

Margo, The Slasher laughed. “You call this home? It’s a fucking dump, always has been, anyway how do you know it wasn’t your retard girlfriend?”

“She’d never do anything like that,” Felice said, “She’s a sweet person and she’s not so selfish and wrapped up in her own life that she can’t give me the time of day.”

Bailey stood by the door pressed against the wall her heart stopped as she listened to Felice say the words that obviously hurt her heart to express. She wanted to go out and comfort her and tell the other woman to back off, but like a well trained dog told to heel she waited.

“So? What?” the Slasher asked, “She ooos and ahh over you sculptures and shit?”

“Sculptures and shit,” Felice whispered in disbelief, “That’s what you’ve always thought of my work. You can go to hell Margo, but first get the fuck off my lawn or I’m calling the sheriff.”

Then the Slasher was calling after Felice and getting no reply. She walked through the door blindly, tears stinging her eyes she ran into Bailey’s arms and sobbed.

Before the screen door banged shut, she saw the dejected boxer through the haze of Felice’s hair standing there her big SUV behind her glowing like a magazine ad.

“Isn’t she an asshole?” Felice sniffed pulling away.

“Yeah,” Bailey smiled, “You handled her just right.”

“And you…” she slapped her playfully on the shoulder, “Looked like you would have torn her throat out.”

“Well…” Bailey began.

“She’s a gifted fighter better outside the ring than inside, that’s not you Bailey,” Felice said she walked back to her bedroom she had straightened the mattress and put new sheets on the bed, and gathered her clothes back to their proper places. Her bureau mirror was shattered and she stooped to pick up the jagged pieces.

“Don’t bother with those just yet,” Bailey reached out her hand, Felice took it and stood.

She came close to Bailey and kissed her neck pausing to whisper into her ear. “I slept with her that week you didn’t call. I’m sorry.”

Bailey looked into her eyes and Felice turned away the truth of guilt lined her face.

“I knew…sort of,” Bailey sighed.

“She is out of my life for good,” Felice said, “Believe me Bailey, please, I want to be with you from now on.”

“I want to believe you,” she turned away, “I have to go.”

Felice held on to her. “No Bailey, you don’t have to.”

“I’m hurt,” she declared, her face trembled as if it would crumple, “I was doing just fine before you, just fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Felice insisted.

“Me too,” Bailey left her.

six

“Hey, its me,” Felice’s voice echoed through the quiet kitchen, “I’ve been calling all night, and I’m not going to stop calling until you talk to me. Bailey. You’re the sweetest woman I’ve met in a long time, the most beautiful, I know you think I’m bullshitting, just talk to me, give me a chance and I’ll make you believe….”

Bailey sipped a beer and stared down at the black cordless Sony, the phone Felice had bought her.

“Come on to the twenty-first century, and get yourself an answering machine,” she had said, smiling that smile that broke Bailey’s heart to think of.

Now Felice was crying over the phone.

“Fuck,” Bailey barked, snatching up the whole thing, receiver, charger, cradle and all, throwing the entire unit outside the parlor and into the hallway, the gray cord yanked the little phone jack cover crooked.

She kicked the wall making a dent in the sheet rock she kicked at it again, her foot going clear through to the spare bedroom, her old room.

“Holy hell,” Jonnie appeared in the hallway, “Are you playing the Hulk in here?”

“How’d you get in here?” Bailey asked.

“I let myself in,” Jonnie flopped on one of the old blue couches, “So she was fucking the Slasher all along.”

“I walked out on her,” Bailey sniffed.

Jonnie shook her head. “What did I fucking tell you Bailey?” she asked, “You let this woman in way too fast.”

“That’s not it,” she wiped at her face with the backs of her hands, angry at the tears, at herself, at Felice, and the Slasher.

“Well?” Jonnie asked, “What now?”

“Let’s go shoot,” Bailey said distractedly.

Together they set up a few targets behind the barn, the sun had never come out that day, and the night was replaced by gray, moist air ready for rain.

“I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life,” Bailey said as they walked away from the targets.

She turned gripped the nock in the arrow pulling back, the strings in her bow tensing, the muscles in her arm tightening and took her aim and let go standing back and sighing.

“Bulls eye,” Jonnie said as the arrow hit a little off the center, “Maybe that’s best for you, just think you were fine before she came around.”

Jonnie pulled the nock back in a swift movement taking a sharp breath; she wore the word monster over the right breast of her t-shirt with the green sleeves. She let go. Her arrows always penetrated the hay covered canvas target deeper, and were more on center than Bailey’s.

“Ha,” she said, “Perfect as usual, that should have been a buck’s heart.”

“I haven’t been just fine in a long time,” Bailey said.

Jonnie frowned. “You know you deserve every nasty thing she does to you, women like her just can’t be owned Bailey, that’s the way it is.”

“I’m not trying to own her,” Bailey insisted.

Jonnie rolled her eyes. “If you go back to her you’re crazy, you’ll be her fucking doormat until she finds something she likes better.”

“I’m going to feed the cows,” Bailey announced not in the mood for Jonnie. She whistled for the cows, they were far on the other side of the pasture. Usually they beat her to the barn when it was feeding time or if they had lost track of the time they took off running when her truck entered the drive.

When she called they took their time coming over. “What’s wrong with ya’ll?” she asked patting Jackie-O’s fat flanks through the barbed wire.

Jonnie hopped over the gate and squatted on the ground next to the barn her hands in the dirt, staring at something between them.

“They’re spooked, have been since this morning,” Jonnie glared, “Tracks,” she called as Bailey unlocked the gate, standing on her haunches and dusting her hands on her jeans.

“Deer. I saw those tracks this morning.” Bailey said dropping the chains on the gate carelessly, they made a pleasantly rusty sound.

Jonnie stood. “Deer?” she asked, “Those ain’t deer tracks. You know that, most of the weight is on the front hooves, they sink deeper into the ground.”

Bailey began to prepare the cow’s feed.

“You aren’t alarmed at all?” Jonnie asked, “You know what those tracks belong to, you’re just playing dumb.”

Bailey walked through the gate. “I don’t feel like dealing with Strange Clan today. I’m tired.”

Jonnie glared out at the woods. “They think we’ve forgotten about them, just because there are two Williamson’s left they think they can start pulling their little pranks.”

Bailey shook her head. “It’s the year two-thousand-one, there are people all over the Arcola and pretty soon those woods are going to be a pretty little rich-snob subdivision,” Bailey told her cousin, “It’s just a matter of time before Strange Clan is wiped out completely.”

Jonnie nodded in agreement. “Just like us. Maybe they want to win this feud once and for all, get us before we have a chance to get them.”

“I’m going to feed my fucking cows,” Bailey said plainly, “Then I’m going inside and knock a few back and wait for all this shit to blow over.”

Jonnie followed her to the feed barrels. “Strange Clan is up to something and they’ll just get bolder and bolder until you’re seeing these prints outside your bedroom window.”

Bailey thought of Felice, she would never understand Strange Clan the first Williamson wives and daughters had known all about them, but as the years went the women were kept in the dark.

“Give me a minute,” she told Jonnie.

“Hurry up then,” she shouldered her own camouflage quiver, the word above her breast, was Killer.

..........

They reached that ancient place in the woods where the underbrush grew tangled and no matter what year there were berry vines with ant-red, and ant-sized thorns that could saw through a pair of jeans and stung like wasps. This was a warning not to go into the deep woods where a perpetual twilight reigned where the ghosts of slaves cross the rough paths made by the Williamsons as wisps of glowing smoke ready to see blood spilled in puddles so they could mourn and lap them and rend themselves to nothing.

Bailey remembered her first trip into the deep woods, when she was sixteen, Uncle Jack had told her not to trust anything her eyes saw out there in the twilight not if she wanted to come back and be right in the head.

Man had been out there long before the Williamsons, the proof was a ruin of light colored mud bricks that glowed like a ghost out in the twilight. There were barely four walls standing, long ago the ruins had been dubbed the praise-house, and it more than likely belonged to slaves. There were rows of white mud benches over grown now, and more of the bricks stacked into a sort of altar and behind it some kind of shallow.

Jonnie walked behind Bailey and was quiet for a change. She suspected that Jonnie came out to the deep woods more than she participated in the real world, she knew more than Bailey ever cared to know, the place had always given her the creeps.

When they were far enough in that the birds stopped singing they came upon the praise- house, Jonnie patted Bailey’s back and motioned that she wanted to stop.

She frowned at her younger cousin not wanting to take the usual sick tour through the church, nothing about the place ever changed, she did not know what Jonnie expected to find.

She began to walk through the praise house taking her time, Bailey waited on the outside an impious companion with an almost cowardly, surliness.

Satisfied Jonnie left the praise house and led the way.

As usual she spotted their quarry first, they squatted and watched it step quick and light under the bower of a dozen small and broken trees leaning over and covered with slippery dark green fungus. It was collecting berries, eating some as it went, gumming them, it was an old toothless female with flat useless breasts hanging above a ribcage that stuck through cracked skin barely stretched over the frame.

After the Civil War when the poor Williamson’s reclaimed part of the old sugar plantation and began to build a ranch they found that they shared the land with another family, natives, but not Indians, these people were barely human, below their skinny torsos they were deer, furry with four legs and hooves.

They knocked down the frame of the original barn while it was being built, they maimed horses and cows were constantly spooked.

Other than that, Strange Clan as they came to be called-were afraid of people, guns especially. Noah Williamson the head of the family led a campaign to exterminate them, he took only his two sons on the raid of the woods, and only one of them returned.

Bailey peered from the other end of the arrow, down the shaft of cool black fiberglass, the sharp four-cornered razor head traced a line down the soft curve of the neck, seeming to notice how the muscles there shifted with every move, waiting for the creature it was trained on to sense danger and bolt.

The old one straightened suddenly sure something was not right out there in the twilight, tossing about two feet of silver-gray hair matted with filth, fallen leaves and grass, the bony arms were raised a bit at its sides a low hum of uncertainty quivered in the thin throat.

Jonnie let her arrow fly first, Bailey’s followed, the first hit the creature in the neck the second pierced the chest between her withered breasts.

Jonnie appeared from her hiding place and stood over their kill watching it thrash on the ground, following its first instinct to run, vainly pumping its legs. Bailey came to watch and saw the eyes rolling around blindly in the old doe’s head, one partially clouded by a cataract. The mouth opened and closed showing a few yellow teeth stained purple from the blackberries.

Bailey knew Strange Clan were creatures that knew starvation, their ribs were always sticking out, their coats hanging loosely around their bodies, but the old doe was more malnourished than usual and would not have survived the winter anyway.

Like any wild animals Strange Clan did not like their immediate territory encroached, neither did they like being cornered, they fought back and killed a son, the first Bailey Williamson. Like any humans, Strange Clan never forgot what wrong had been done to them, they would never let the feud go.

Still, the Williamson men enjoyed sporting; there were Christmas hunts, and other holiday recreation. After Bailey’s father Sam and his brother Jack Jr. the line of Williamson males ended, the last generation produced only two girls. Though there were distant cousins scattered throughout Texas, the direct line of Noah had ended. The Williamson’s had never been big reproducers and the line was bound to fizzle out.

That left Bailey and Jonnie the first women to hunt Strange Clan they used bows as if to even out their killing technology, their adversaries had never learned to use anything more than flint knives and sharpened sticks.

When it stopped thrashing Bailey bent and touch the fever hot pelt, the muscles still twitched underneath, the fur was soft. The last breath came and went in an anguished shudder and a grieved sigh.

“This is the big danger to the Williamson way of life?” Bailey asked, pissed off suddenly, “She was probably looking to filch some of the cow’s food.”

Jonnie laughed. “And I guess you would have let her eat and fatten up real good on stale bread and feed, could have been a pet for you and Felice.”

“Fuck you,” Bailey turned and walked away shouldering her bow as she went.

“These things are better off dead anyway,” Jonnie said, “Hey, are we gonna cut her up or not?”

“You have at it,” Bailey said to her cousin, “I’m going home.”

“You’ve turned into a goddamned bleeding heart,” Jonnie accused, “These ain’t the humpback whales or the goddamned whooping crane.”

Bailey turned and walked up the path. “Have to go see her,” she muttered and walked out of the twilight and into the quickening night, “I’m going to go see Felice.”

“You’re crazy,” Jonnie called.

She walked away from her cousin and went to the barn to put away her equipment. Bailey then got into her truck and drove towards Sugar Land.

On the way to Felice’s she decided not to get flowers but some chocolate biscotti from Starbucks.

She found herself expecting the black SUV as she pulled into the driveway, but only saw the Alemanita.

Felice opened the door clutching one of little robes closed.

“Hey I brought Starbucks,” Bailey said blandly.

She opened the door wider letting her in, her hair was bed draggled but she had not gotten much sleep, Bailey had noticed that the flesh under her eyes was dark and puffy. She still wore borrowed work shirt from yesterday, Bailey’s initials and last name above her right breast.

They sat in the kitchen.

“I must look like a mess,” she said.

“No, just tired,” Bailey slid a cup of latte towards her, she took a deep breath, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Felice raised a palm, “I’m the one apologizing here.”

She laughed bitterly. “I thought I’d never see you again Bailey,” she took her hand, “You’re fragile, I should have taken more care; I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life.”

Bailey ducked her head and raised Felice’s hand to her lips. “I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

They kissed a slow, deep, kiss backlit with a low hum from Felice, making it the most intimate, and erotic they had shared. She kissed Bailey’s throat cleverly steering them down the hall to the bedroom.

They watched each other undress Felice came slowly out of her clothes as Bailey sat naked at the edge of the bed. Felice kneeled in front of her, spreading Bailey’s legs apart, she lowered her head slowly not taking her eyes off her lover until she was kissing her inner thigh, catching skin in between her lips and sucking, then catching skin between her teeth.

Bailey let out a rush of air dressed in her name and Felice moaned in reply as her mouth moved up and met the stiff patch of hair, nuzzling underneath past the soft wet petals to the hard hot center.

Felice pushed her back with one hand, scooping her hips in the cradle made by her forearms, she moved Bailey to the center of the bed, all the time probing with her tongue finding her opening and ducking in and out, catching the tender cache of nerves between her lips, sucking, tugging at with her lips.

Bailey’s hips swayed, her hands tangled in Felice’s hair messaging her scalp, as pleasure passed from her mouth conducted through to the moisture between her legs, from her hands to the sensitive nerves under the skin beneath her hair like high voltage currents.

Felice pulled herself on top of Bailey her head lowered fitting her mouth below one of the damaged ears, moaning into the skin as she straddled her hips blanketing her with the hot wet tide that surged from her sex.

Bailey’s body rejoiced again and again as she was dissolved like a soft stone and re-deposited back on the bed into a new creature, evolved by pleasure.

..........

The wall between the parlor and the guest room cracked and crumbled away as Bailey swung the sledgehammer, she was surprised at how easily the wall fell away revealing dried out insulation. She paused to look around the empty parlor and she had repainted the walls white to better reflect all the sunlight that came through the now unclothed windows.

She looked up to see Jonnie Boy in the hall, and kept pounding away.

“I get it,” her cousin said over the noise of the hammer, “You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“Nope,” Bailey said, “I’m building Felice a studio here.”

“Yep, you’ve lost it,” Jonnie said.

“She’s storing her works in the barn, and I was thinking it would be nice if she could have a place close to her house to work, a studio of her own,” Bailey said.

“And what’s this?” Jonnie nudged a set of long cardboard boxes.

“EZ Tract lighting,” Bailey told her.

“So you got a little pussy and thought you’d stash it away in Arcola,” Jonnie said.

Bailey ignored her and continued to break away the wall.

“This is just the beginning,” Jonnie said, “The more you tie yourself to this woman-”

“Her name is Felice,” Bailey said stopping mid-swing, “Yes I want to be closer to her. Yes I want to tie myself to her. Yes I know that it only makes it harder if things go bad.”

“Ok, smarty,” Jonnie said, “You know that’s probably asbestos in the wall.”

“Oh shit,” Bailey stepped back, “I think I have a mask in the barn.”

Jonnie followed her outside. “Did you tell her about your obnoxious little cousin?”

“I’m trying to avoid that,” Bailey opened the gate the cows came looking for food, “You’re not to mess with her Jonnie.”

Her cousin stopped at the barn door, she watched Bailey going inside and hunt around for the masks.

“I could care less about your new bitch,” she called after her.

“Fine,” Bailey said distractedly.

“She’ll show you up Bailey,” Jonnie said bitterly, “Its gonna take a lot to get through to your thick head but she’ll prove that she’s a no good whore. And what are you going to tell her when she comes across one of the fine citizens of Arcola like Rita Woods?”

“No one talks about that any more,” Bailey said pausing her search.

“People don’t forget a thing like that,” Jonnie told her.

“You finished?” Bailey asked looking over her shoulder towards her cousin, she stood with an old white painter’s mask in her hand to see that Jonnie was gone.

seven

“Another weekend Williamson?” Ed asked, as he made sure that the proper calendar girl showed. Ms. June had two weeks left. She kneeled straddling a jigsaw, squeezing her boobs together and forward in that international sign of welcome and plenty.

“I liked it better when you were a recluse,” he sighed.

Bailey looked up from her pile of invoices and made a face at his back/ “I still work weekends just not every single one.”

He turned, waving her off. Ed was dressed in cowboy dress, sans his used-car salesman, swindling-red blazer, he wore a Stetson, a turquoise and sterling bolo tie, boots of some exotic reptile, and a big ass belt buckle. “That pretty girl of yours got you going, I know. That’ll be over soon and you’ll be begging to work the weekends.”

“My private life is my private life and I’d appreciate it if you would stop speculating,” Bailey slapped her pen on the desk under her flattened palm and stood up to leave. She had already gotten the guys straight about mentioning Felice, and according to them how hot she was.

“Hey,” Ed shrugged he stood up and headed for the door, “I’m not dressed up to sit around discussing gay rights in the workplace. I got a commercial to shoot.”

She forgot his last comment and smiled though she would dread turning on the tube and seeing Ed Garver of all people.

He thought she was impressed and straightened his bolo. “Got some prime time too, not no damned afternoon and morning and waste my money on losers with no jobs watching court shows, collecting unemployment. I even have catchy lines,” Ed took off his hat and recited:

“Come on down to Ed’s used cars, where the prices are so cheap, it’s downright criminal.”

Then, with a dramatic sweep of his arms, he left.

Bailey laughed when he was gone. “Come on down to Ed’s” she mimicked her boss, “We sell so many lemons it’s downright criminal,” she did his char har har, and nearly fell out of her seat laughing.

Guy came in catching her in the act. “You Ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bailey grinned and seeing the look on his face she laughed some more, “I’m better than Ok.”

“Right,” Guy drawled, not so sure, “Are we closing this joint or what?”

Bailey nodded. “Let’s close her down.”

She gathered up the invoices as Guy crooned over the P.A. in English and choppy Spanish.

As the last of the customers filed out Bailey collected the day’s earnings, fed the dogs and set the alarm. As usual her truck was the last vehicle in the parking lot.

A few weeks before she had retired the old hand-me-down, parked her beyond the Chinaberry tree and lovingly covered her with a tarp. Ed had given her a pretty good deal on a new, used truck- only two years old with only one previous owner. Everything under the hood checked out, but wary of Ed’s dishonest practices Bailey was just waiting for her latest red Dodge to break down.

In the mean time it was nice to have air conditioning with the summer fast approaching, and it was even better not to have radio speakers that produced grainy sound and a tape player that occasional indulged itself with a tape dinner. A wax made the truck gleam like a fire engine and some how Ed had tricked the interior into a new-car smell.

Every time she started up the new truck she cursed Ed, vowing that if anything turned out to be wrong with her new purchase she would quit the yard, and report him to one of those local investigative reporters lurking about.

Bailey drove home dreaming of Felice dressed in one of her little red robes, fresh out of the tub, her body still damp in the best places, waiting for her. Or even in the studio engrossed in a project barely able to say more than two sentences, at least she would be there.

“Fat chance of that,” she said to herself as she turned down the gravel drive of Williamson place.

Felice was always off in Houston with her art buddies, helping to plan shows, or attending shows, or having some instant get-together at someone’s studio/loft.

Bailey willed herself not to be disappointed if she did not see the little Cabriolet parked under the Chinaberry tree, but her heart sank anyway. She went straight to the pasture to give the cows their evening feed hoping that Jonnie would show up to keep her company.

She quickly scolded herself. Ed had called her recluse earlier, and that was true, she had spent years alone to herself without a second thought to having a companion, a lover, or a friend. No, it did not feel good to be a recluse in love.

The cows met her at the stable and Lady Bird tried to assist with unlocking the latch. Bailey shooed her away and put out the food, then hosed water into their trough, actually an old bathtub sunken that had gradually sank into the ground over the years.

She then carefully checked the perimeter outside the pasture fence for Strange Clan tracks. They’d been close by, watching, Bailey worried for Felice’s safety. How would she explain the creatures’ existence if her new girlfriend happened to spot one? Jonnie was supposed to be thinking of a way to deter them but she was still pissed at Bailey for some reason.

The roar of a great, old, truck urgently treading up the drive made Bailey stand to attention. It was Waters in his yellow Chevy. She went to meet him knowing that there was some business to attend to, grateful for a diversion.

“Williamson,” he said in greeting a smoking pipe clenched between his teeth, he looked as big as ever, tall with shoulders set wide apart, huge hands darkened by a lifetime of work, “Got to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” she said her attention captured by Felice’s car pulling into the drive.

Mr. Waters turned, stirring his cloud of smoke. “That old Turner place over-runned by them crack heads.”

Behind him Felice pulled in the drive.

Bailey gave him her attention. “I didn’t know that Mr. Waters.”

“Well the thing is the cops ain’t doin’ nothing about it, I complained more than once now,” he told her, “Just came to tell you-”

“Hello,” Felice said curtly giving a little wave with one hand. The other hand was loaded with several Chinese food bags.

Bailey winked and gave a quick half-grin.

Mr. Waters gave a nod of his head and watched her walk on in to the house, he was smiling a little himself. He turned back to Bailey and she folded her arms and nodded gravely for him to go on.

“Them crack heads come around all hours of the day and night. I got a wife, kids and grandkids. That house has got to go,” he said.

“You gonna burn it?” she asked.

“Yep. Tomorrow night.” he answered, “Gotta flush ‘em out first. Then I’m gonna bathe the place down in gas.”

“You need some help?” she asked.

“Can’t count on none of my no good sons to help,” he said, “All moved out to places that don’t have worries this place have.”

“I hear you,” she sighed, “What time?”

“Three ‘clock. a.m.,” he told her, “I’ll be out ‘cross the street from my place. You got a gun?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Good. Bring it,” he said, “Meet me and we’ll fire a couple rounds in the air. That’ll get them crack heads running.”

“How that cow doing?” he asked pointing out to the field at Jackie O.

“Eating up everything,” she answered.

“She big,” he commented, “Ima head back now, work to do.”

“Me too,” she said.

He went back to his truck dumping out smolder tobacco from his pipe as he went.

Inside Felice was setting up dinner. “Who was that man?” she asked.

“Oh,” Bailey said, “That’s good, old Mr. Waters, my neighbor.”

She began to snoop through the bags.

“I brought Chinese, egg rolls, those ribs, shrimp fried rice all your favs,” Felice said.

“Cool, gonna go shower,” Bailey said peeling out of her clothes on the way to the shower, and piling them all up on the bathroom counter. She turned on the water and began to soap, then rinsed.

“Hey,” Felice poked her head through the curtain.

“Hey,” Bailey chuckled, she turned off the water and stepped out of the tub.

Felice got a towel off the rack and began to dry her off. “So were you thinking about me just now?”

“Of course,” Bailey grinned.

“Mmm,” Felice purred, “That’s always nice to hear.”

“Yeah?” Bailey asked and kissed her.

She dropped the towel on the floor and gave the damp thatch between Bailey’s legs a pat.

“Before this goes on further. Can we please eat first?” she asked.

“Sure,” Bailey answered picking up the towel “Just let me get dressed.”

“Fine,” Felice looked disappointed, “I was hoping you’d join me the way you are.”

Bailey laughed. “Then we’d never get around to eating.”

“That’s true,” Felice grinned and left her to dress.

She padded to the bedroom for some clothes grinning.

“Felice?” she said as she sat down to eat, “Did you think anything was wrong with me when you first met me?”

She frowned a little. “Like what?”

Bailey picked some ribs covered in red sauce from one of the containers on the table. “I don’t know.”

“Now of course you do or you would have never brought it up,” Felice said.

She said nothing in return only grabbed another container and was very intent on picking out an egg roll.

“Fine,” Felice said, “I thought you were shy when we first met, I thought it was charming, then when you didn’t call I thought you were an asshole but when I came to talk to you I figured out that you weren’t shy or an asshole…sort of a rare mix.”

Bailey raised her eyebrows as she dumped rice on her plate. “A shy asshole?”

“Yes,” Felice took the rice container and put some on her plate. “I don’t think anyone could be on their own so long and not be a little bit of an asshole. You have a heart of gold Bailey but someone could be talking to you and ask a million questions and you won’t ask them not one, even with me you’re so quiet sometime I just want to strangle you to get some kind of reaction.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Bailey said slowly.

Felice smiled. “I wouldn’t change you for anything, of course you will. I mean you are asking me about it so I guess that’s a step.”

They were silent and Bailey wondered if Felice wanted to strangle her, she laughed.

“Now I know another way to get a reaction from you,” she grinned, “Meet me in the bedroom and I’ll prove it to you.”

“No meet me on the porch and you can prove it,” Bailey bargained.

“Deal,” Felice laughed.

After dinner Bailey grabbed a couple of beers and a blanket and made camp just a few feet away from the porch in a patch of cool grass.

She and Felice giggled and stripped, their lips and hands roaming free under the open sky.

Bailey got between her legs, and in one movement of her hips found the plane of her pleasure as well as her lover’s who acknowledged the discovery with a short impatient moan.

“Oh, Honey, I know,” Bailey shuddered, moving her hips slowly.

Felice bucked underneath, urging her onto her back and taking control moving her own hips in quick thrusts. Bailey grabbed her ass and watched the stars glow through waves of dark hair. She flipped them over again making Felice giggle. She slowed their lovemaking kissing her love’s breasts through all of the hair.

“Bailey,” she gasped arching her back scooting from under as soon as her climax waned.

“Hey,” Bailey reached out touching her chest, Felice’s arm paralleled her own extended out her hand traveling past the gnarled breast, to the well muscled stomach stopping to pet the patch of crinkly hair.

All of her fingers folded in except one that prodded past the moist folds, lingering at her opening and suddenly entering her molten core.

Bailey used two fingers to explore Felice before slipping them inside her.

Each of the lovers watched the other ablaze in pleasure, their hands between the other’s thighs. Their heads tilted back and lolled on their shoulders, as they called out to the night sky before collapsing on to each other breathless.

They lay on the ground until the fire went out, naked except for the night, guarded by the moon, watched by the stars.

Felice ran a hand through Bailey’s hair.

“You need a hair cut.”

..........

Bailey sat still the next morning while Felice nattered on giving her a short lecture on pop culture and modern art. She had promised a remarkable transformation, something fun and trendy. The brown strands of hair that fell on the kitchen table grew thinner and shorter.

“Not like I have a head full of hair anyway,” Bailey said, “You can’t take much off.”

“Goddess. Bailey” She sighed, “You’ve got gray.”

They laughed.

“So now you’ve finally found me out,” Bailey said, “I’m an old hag.”

“Well thanks to me you don’t look it,” Felice said, stalking around the chair looking at her in appraisal, she handed Bailey a mirror.

She took it and inspected her new hair-do. “Jesus,” she mumbled, “I look like a Back Street Boy.”

Felice laughed. “You don’t” she rested her chin and Bailey’s shoulder, her reflection spoke through the mirror, “You look cute.”

Her hair had been cut low and layered in strands that tapered at the ends, giving it a spiked appearance. Bailey had to admit it was pretty cool.

“Is there anything my baby can’t do?” she asked Felice’s reflection.

“I can do anything with good taste involved,” she grinned, “I’m glad you like.”

Bailey stood fluffing her hair. “The guys at work are gonna hassle me good.”

“I’ve seen the bad hair at your job,” Felice laughed, “You know it’s contagious, I had nightmares about waking up and finding you with a mullet.”

“I had one in the early nineties,” Bailey admitted, “Olivia liked it.”

Felice dramatically put a hand to her forehead. “Oh. Pobricieto.”

Bailey laughed. “I was cool back then.”

Felice patted her shoulder. “It’s ok Honey. You’re cool now. So we’re going to Ms. Go-Lucy’s tonight.”

Bailey groaned remembering their last appearance at the club.

Felice saw her reluctance. “You’re just not used to being around people” she kissed her cheek, “Which you must if you want to be with a fun girl like me.

“Oh really?” Bailey grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.

“Well don’t you ever want to come to any of my art shows?” Felice asked, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to have a nice babe on my arm” she took the beer and drank the first sip.

Bailey took it back. “Of course I’ll go to your art shows.”

“And sit in the corner and be shy?” Felice asked she put a hand to the side of Bailey’s face.

“You’re beautiful, and interesting if you just give people a chance, I’m sure they won’t disappoint you.”

Bailey nodded, still unsure.

Felice came close and kissed her. “Don’t worry I won’t let any strange women kiss you this time.”

..........

Bailey followed Felice through the lobby towards the club entrance squirming a bit in the silk shirt Felice had bought. A girl in a pink sequined bikini, a golden wire halo, and her arms clad in an eclectic plumage of large pink feathers passed them on her way out, a cigarette between her lips. She smiled at Bailey who smiled back and watched her pass. She walked into Felice who had stopped suddenly. Bailey grabbed her upper arm to steady them both.

“Sorry, Babe,” she blushed.

“You don’t fucking own the place,” Felice snarled.

Bailey frowned and saw that Felice was not talking to her but the Slasher.

Her eyes flashed on Bailey with her black boots, black Wranglers and her Daddy’s prized oversized belt buckle, “You brought your hillbilly?”

“You brought your whore?” Felice took Bailey’s hand and walked past the Slasher and her new girl friend, a voluptuous, curly haired, fair, Latina.

“Maybe we should go,” Bailey said above the music.

Felice turned. “Let’s get a drink.”

“She called me a hillbilly,” Bailey said plainly, “And I don’t even live in the hills, she should know, she grew up one town over.”

Felice laughed bitterly. “Bastarda,” she turned to the bar tender, “Coke with just a splash of rum and a beer.”

The woman smiled. “I know how you like it Felice.”

“Thanks Dawn. So does the Slasher come here often?” she asked.

Dawn nodded. “A new woman every weekend,” she snorted.

Felice went stony and turned around leaving Bailey with Dawn who shrugged and went to get their drinks. Her mood turned sour as she watched Felice scan the crowd looking for Margo. Bailey tapped her love’s shoulder.

“Felice, really, let’s go,” she squirmed on the stool, “We’re supposed to be having fun tonight not playing mind games.”

“Why does it have to be a game?” she asked, “I want to come to Ms.Go-Luckys. Why does our night have to be ruined cause she’s here?”

“This is stupid,” Bailey growled, and turned to get her beer, her eyes met with Dawn and she looked away furiously, embarrassed. She got money from her pocket to pay, but the bartender gave an amused grin.

“Tab’s already been picked up,” she said.

“And I wonder by who?” Bailey asked putting her beer down the bottle produced a short thick stream of fizz that puddled onto the countertop, “I’m waiting in the truck.”

“Bailey,” Felice called after her as stomped away.

Jonnie was right, there was a lot she did not understand about the lesbian society. Bailey knew instantly that she did not like it one bit and wanted to get as far away as she could. Arcola was the perfect place.

Halfway across the club, Felice grabbed her arm. “Honey, please-”

“I thought it was just us, Felice?” Bailey turned, “But now I see your whole little mess of friends is involved, and we’re just part of some big lesbian soap opera.”

She walked away Felice still clutching her arm. “You’re being ridiculous,” she shouted, “And you’re making a scene.”

“That’s part of the whole game huh?” Bailey shrugged her off, people were looking she was actually making a scene. Humiliated she left the club.

“Bailey,” Felice called after her in the parking lot.

“What the fuck is up with her?” the Slasher asked laughing and called, “Come on back Cowgirl.”

Bailey got into the truck and slammed the door and began to light a cigar.

“No just get away,” Felice was yelling, and the Slasher was arguing back, Bailey could see them through the side mirror. Margo walked towards the truck Felice behind her.

“Hey,” she said through the window, “Hey, I’m sorry to piss you off, it was just some drinks, no big deal, huh?”

Bailey felt her face grow hot and her extremities tingle. She thought of Jonnie Boy there kept hearing her voice saying over and over:

“Who the fuck does she think she is?”

Felice climbed in on the other side. “Let’s go, ok?”

Bailey did not turn to look at Felice, her hand was gripping the door handle of the truck on the other side Margo the Slasher was still trying to coax them out.

“C’mon you’re ruining the whole night” she shouted, “We can all be friends.”

“Who the fuck does she think she is?”

In one swift move Bailey pulled back the handle and shoved open the door knocking the Slasher into the parked car next to them.

Felice screamed and grabbed her lover’s shoulder. “What are you doing, Bailey?”

The truck rumbled to life and swerved backwards out of the lot and into the street startling a little sporty Mazda into honking it’s horn nervously.

Bailey threw the truck in drive and sped away from the club, Felice had let go of her and retreated to her side of the cab breathing harshly.

“What the fuck was that?” she gasped.

Bailey did not answer, just puffed out thick clouds of cigar smoke.

“This isn’t like you at all, Honey” Felice shook her head.

“How the hell would you know?” Bailey asked.

“Is this what happens when you get pissed off?” Felice said, “Do you fucking open car doors on people and speed away?”

“Do you want to be with her or me?” Bailey asked in reply, “Am I part of some stupid game like tonight? You cut my hair and dress me up and take me out to make her jealous?”

Felice sighed. “No, I thought we were gonna have a good time and ignore her.”

“Bull shit,” Bailey hit the steering wheel with the flat of her hand making the horn give a short bleat, “You were playing games, and I’m not gonna be apart of that.

She destroyed your house, you should be just as ready to kick her ass.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Felice stammered, “I thought you were better than this.”

“You thought,” Bailey stubbed out her cigar in one jab, “You thought that I was some country retard who didn’t know the difference.”

“You’re just like Margo,” Felice scoffed, “Ready to kick everyone’s ass, that’s not who I thought you were. I would have never-.”

She stopped short her eyes spoke of the regret she would have issued.

“It’s not like you do anyway, you’re gone half the time, so just fuck it,” Bailey grumbled, “S’not what I wanted.”

She knew then that something had broken and more than a little shit was about to be tossed around between them.

“I have a life,” Felice pointed to her chest, “-and I had one before you, it was selfish of you to think that I would end it because you suddenly came into my life” Felice scowled, “You’re the Slasher all over again.”

“Maybe that’s why you picked me because I remind you so much of her,” Bailey blurted, if Felice was going to toss some shit she may as well kick a little up while she was at it.

Felice did not reply she only cried quietly until they got home, Bailey genuinely felt bad, but something new had surfaced, a kind of pride that made her feel sure that her love should suffer some, be punished in some way for leaving her alone so much.

At home they changed clothes walking around each other, Felice washing the make up off her face, Bailey carefully putting away Daddy’s belt buckle, then grabbing a beer and sitting on the porch.

She had plenty of reasons to punch out a lot of people on many occasions, but Bailey never assaulted anyone before. Maybe the Slasher paid for all the times Bailey put her anger aside, came home and had a beer and flipped through Daddy’s old Hustler magazine.

She decided to sleep on the porch. The air was nice enough, and the smells of the pasture, berries, manure and all were carried to her by a warm breeze. When sleep came to Bailey she was too wired. She left the porch and fed the cows glad to have breakfast so early. She pulled out her bow and arrows and left the property to search for Jonnie Boy.

Bailey found her checking her various traps, contraptions that caught animal limbs, causing slow painful deaths. They had not spoken since the old doe incident and she did not yet know of Bailey’s decision not to hunt anymore.

“You’ll never catch a bobcat in there,” she said in greeting.

Jonnie laughed, today her shirt said, Got ‘em.

“Where’s the little woman?” she asked.

“Don’t ask,” Bailey said, her stomach growled and she wished she had stopped for breakfast, perhaps some of Felice’s eggs, and if she was still pissed about the night before-a cinnamon roll or something.

“You fighting already?” Jonnie asked, “Has the Slasher returned?”

“Hell no,” Bailey lit one of her skinny rough cigars and shared one with Jonnie.

“I should say you’re in an un-tight ass mood today,” she said.

“I whacked the Slasher ,” Bailey grinned around her cigar.

“Hell no,” Jonnie moved on to check her other traps, she followed taking note of the sun glowing brighter as morning fully broke.

“Yeah,” Bailey said, “She was fucking with me so I knocked the shit out of her with my truck door.”

Jonnie frowned. “How did that chance to happen?”

Bailey told the story. She and Jonnie laughed puffing up a fog of smoke as they wandered back to the barn.

“Next time you meet her you better be ready,” Jonnie paused to put her cigar out on the bottom of her boot then slipping it in her pocket for later.

“Yeah,” Bailey raised a fist and boxed at Jonnie who bounced around dodging the playful blows. She ran at Bailey with a roar.

She caught Jonnie and pushed her back, they wrestled grabbing each other’s wrists growling at each other like wild creatures sparring. Bailey got her arm around Jonnie’s neck, wrapping her arm around the girl under one armpit and raising her arm over her head.

“The choke hold,” Jonnie rasped and tried to drop out of the grasp.

“Naw you’re not going anywhere,” Bailey laughed and let her go.

Jonnie ran behind her stooped and punched the back of her knee collapsing her leg.

“Whoa,” Bailey fell over her cousin pounced on her.

“Bailey?”

They looked up to see Felice in her little khaki shorts and Rodeo 97’ t-shirt.

“Who’s this?” she asked smiling, recognizing the resemblance between the two.

“Hi,” Jonnie waved coyly. Bailey elbowed her in the side.

They stood.

“My cousin Jonnie Mae Williamson,” Bailey said breathlessly.

“Hi,” Felice said, “You never told me you had a cousin.”

“I live right up the road,” Jonnie stepped back a little.

Bailey shot her a look. “Oh yeah, sure I told you,” she said to Felice.

“Well, I gotta go,” the red head turned and went back to the woods.

“It was nice to meet you,” Felice called but Jonnie did not turn around.

“How many of there of you walking around?” she asked.

“Just Jonnie I guess,” Bailey said putting a hand to the back of her neck.

“Passing on that good ol’ tradition of violence,” Felice remarked.

Bailey shrugged. “Every good red neck woman knows how to give a fight.”

Felice took a step close, and hung her head. “I’m going to a friend’s I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“Ok,” she answered calmly, inside she wanted to scream. So she was still pissed. Felice was leaving her and Bailey was not up to chasing her car.

“I’ll be out kind of late so don’t expect me,” the right corner of her mouth turned down, “I’ll see you later. Ok?”

“Alright,” Bailey said.

Felice folded her arms together just below her breasts and walked away. Bailey watched her go all the way to the house. She went into the barn and waited until she heard the little Cabriolet start up before she went to the house again.

Bailey dressed in her Grab-A-Part cover-alls deciding to cut her weekend short. Once she entered the yard, she was glad when she saw Guy out front arguing with a man who could barely speak English. She could be very diplomatic when she wanted. Bailey pulled a bystander, a customer to act as a translator. The man had bounced several checks in the past when he bought parts and he was trying to write another. Will the cashier saw his name on the bulletin behind the counter and did not run the check through the security system at all.

The man claimed that he had cleared all his bad checks and even gone to jail and paid fines. He assured them that his new checks were good. Bailey made Will run the check and it cleared all right. Will got red and instantly apologized. Guy walked away still hot under the collar.

She watched him go and decided not to bother with him the rest of the day. The yard closed early every Sunday but Bailey stuck around playing with the dogs. She finally went home after dark, Felice was not there, and she did not show up at bedtime. Bailey woke after she had gone to bed to the sound of the front door opening and soon she smelled Felice’s perfume and felt the other side of the bed sink. She heard her drunken sigh and soon her light snoring.

She watched television until her 3 a.m. appointment down at the old Turner place. Bailey grabbed the old .38 from the top her mother’s china hutch in the kitchen. The shot gun was up there too but she figured the night called for something a bit more, subtle.

It was strange walking down Morningside, with a pistol in her pocket, her Comets pulled down across her brow. The only street light cast an orangish glow like dying fire, attracting an assortment of light craving insects.

Across the street from the Water’s place, Mr. Waters stood under a Chinaberry tree.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said gruffly.

He handed her something in the darkness, like a giant can but with a handle on the top. He leaned against another giant can on three poles.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bailey answered.

“Anybody get crazy, you shoot,” he said walking towards the Turner place dragging the spot light behind him.

He stopped abruptly and swore, then the yard was flooded with light. Bailey fumbled with the can he had given her doubling the glare.

Inside of old Turner place she could see panicked heads flipping around, silhouettes darting like startled birds.

The safety clicked on Mr. Waters gun and he sent a few rounds into the air.

About four forms ran out of the house.

Mr. Waters trotted towards the house, through the door-less entrance. Bailey followed. They were greeted by the sounds of retreating foot steps and a rusted screen door squealing angrily.

“Better get the hell outta here,” Mr. Waters announced, “This place is going down in flames, just a few minutes.”

A salty smell permeated the house, an acidic odor like piss, and sweat, and semen, and cocaine cooked on hot spoons.

There were junk food cellophane bags, and glass crunching under her feet as Bailey checked the place out.

“I don’t think no one’s here,” she said.

Mr. Waters went out the front, and she followed. Outside there were gas cans from which they sprinkled fuel as gaily as they would confetti. Through the broken front windows. Soaking the porch. Tossing a can on the roof for good measure.

They stepped away from the house and took turns tossing fiery balls of rags at the porch. Waves of fire swept the dried out woods, and climbed up the walls like an all consuming ivy. She and Mr. Waters watched from across the street as the whole place danced with fire.

“Ain’t seen a blaze like that in a time,” Mr. Waters said and cleared his throat abruptly remembering who he was talking to.

Bailey trembled. Many people had no idea how fire felt. They could measure with tools for the temperature, know all the science of a blaze. They didn’t know that it was not the flames that hurt, it was the damned heat, and the light that burned.

She said good-bye to Mr. Waters and took off up the road, looking over her shoulder and watching the house, the looming monster of smoke that towered into the sky, illuminated by the jagged flames.

A car cruised past. With the gun low at her side Bailey trotted up the drive and peered down the road watching the red headlights glowing a mock menace like eyespots on some creature’s backside. The car had a wide body something like a great old Buick, but was probably not cruised on a little past the Water’s drive veering off the road and disappearing from sight. She sat there waiting for the explosion, the gas-tank an angry volcano jarring Morningside’s bones, but there was only darkness.

..........

Bailey mourned the passing of the weekend with a bitter longing. After work she took her time getting home. She stopped to pick up some beer, junk food and more of the rough cigars she was beginning to smoke more and more. She barely spoke a handful of words to Felice a day.

Midweek when she drove into the gravel drive and around to the Chinaberry tree, Bailey sighed to see that the little German girl was not parked there. Felice was once again on the go. Thirsty for a beer, Bailey ignored the cries of the cows for feed, and went to have a drink before getting their dinner.

In the house she stuffed the beer in the refrigerator seizing a bottle to drink with the nacho chips she bought. She went to the living room to watch T.V. and noticed the message light blinking. Bailey stood over it and listened the callers missed they were more frequent now because Felice’s friends called looking for her. The last caller was Felice yelling playfully for Bailey to come and answer the phone.

“I guess you’re not home, well I’ll be home around eight so don’t go running off with your cousin…What does she do all day anyway, Bailey? I saw her over by the barn today. I yelled and waved but she just crept away...Are all you Williamson girls so shy?” Felice laughed, “I miss you Bailey, I know I see you everyday, but I miss you.”

There was the sound of a phone hanging up then the machine clicked off. Bailey listened to the message again, tears in her eyes. She left her beer and went out to feed the cows.

As she unlocked the gate a car pulled into the drive, she turned to see Felice and smiled.

“Hey,” Felice came over and hugged her.

“Hey,” Bailey said, “I’m sorry I made the Slasher eat my Dodge,” she tried to sound sincere but could not help grinning.

“Yeah, I believe you,” Felice gave a short laughed and kissed her, “I’ll never be able to show my face at Ms.Go-Lucky’s again.”

“Sure you will,” Bailey insisted, “Everyone loves you there.”

Felice followed her inside the gate and watched Bailey prepare the feed.

“I’ve been catching the rumors,” Felice said, “The lesbians are abuzz, Honey. Some say you kicked the Slasher’s ass. Some say you ran her over.” She laughed, “but the truth is you just have her a bump and a shove. She wants your head on a plate but as you would say she’s got bigger fish to fry. Let her take it out on some poor sap in the ring.”

Bailey could have cared less, she did not want to know what Felice’s friends thought of their relationship, and she had honestly hoped she had broken the Slasher’s nose.

She looked up from the stale bread at Felice who sighed.

“I’ve never been a very domestic person,” she said, “I think my art suffers because of it, I go from studio to studio I loose tools and sketches. I think it’s time I really moved into my new studio the one you built for me.”

“Yeah,” Bailey stopped messing with the bread and stood.

“Couples fight,” she assured her, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about relationships is that there’s disagreements and misunderstandings, things that are said that no one really means, feelings get trampled, somehow pride gets mixed in.”

Bailey nodded. “Yeah I know about that.”

Felice sighed. “I’m sure there are a lot of positive ways to deal with things besides trying to bash each other’s teeth out emotionally or physically.”

“Or walking out,” Bailey added hastily.

Felice nodded. “I’ve heard that some couples vow not to go to bed angry at each other.”

Bailey thought a moment. “We should come up with an anger management plan. No matter what time of day it is I’ll say, ‘I’m going to feed the cows I’ll be back in an hour’ or how much time I need to cool off.”

Felice grinned. “And I’ll say, ‘I have some important work to do, it’ll take me about an hour’ and then we meet back in the kitchen for a beer or something.”

Bailey raised her eyebrows. “Then we make up.”

“Then we make up,” Felice wrapped her arms around Bailey’s neck playfully rubbing their noses together before kissing her softly.

She pulled away the tears came without warning spilling over her lower lids and down her face, “Or you could always go back home.”

“Honey don’t get upset,” Felice kissed her wet cheeks, “Look at you” she gave a little chuckle though her own tears were forming.

Behind them the cows mooed, Jackie O then Lady Bird.

Bailey went back to preparing their dinner, she suddenly felt overwhelmed.

“I thought it was…well I don’t what I thought,” she said to the ground, “I can’t go back to living like I used to…” she raised her head, “Alone.”

Felice took her hand and kissed it, “I’ve been selfish Bailey, I knew I would be when I first moved in, I guess I wanted you to get fed up and I would leave. I don’t want that. I never did.”

Bailey was beginning to feel like she was coming back to her senses she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, embarrassed.

She grabbed Bailey into a fierce embrace.

If you have enjoyed Cornwel's "A Fate Of Fire - Part Two", then please be certain to e-mail her at  cornwel[at]hotmail.com  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here to continue on to "A Fate Of Fire - Part Three"

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