Sapphic Voices Romance

A Fate Of Fire

Conclusion

thirteen

They were silent as they drove to Arcola. Bailey was worried that some of the stuff in the bed of the truck would fly out and kept peering through the rear-view mirror.

“The art show is in a few weeks,” Felice said, “You should come.”

“Yeah,” Bailey said distractedly seeing the fruit-stand in the distance. She flipped on her right blinker and slowed to turn down Morningside. The white dust from the main road’s shoulders had been stirred by another vehicle, leaving a low, rolling, cloud.

Bailey felt Felice squeeze her thigh as the truck climbed across the rail road tracks at the mouth of the road. She honked and waved at the Water’s as she passed, she looked in their pasture for Lady Bird and Jackie but did not see them.

“There’s lots of home improvement you could do here,” Felice said when they were in the driveway.

The little house her father had ordered built for his young, pregnant, Virginian bride, looked to Bailey thirty years later as if it were fading away. The third rate brick, and even the siding Bailey had just replaced a few seasons looked frail, and thin.

“Home,” she announced.

Felice grinned in reply and gave a satisfied hum, she hopped out of the cab and walked to the house.

Bailey met her on the porch, she slowly unlocked the door and muscled it open. She stepped in first and peered into the dark kitchen. She expected Jonnie to be there, slumped over the table surrounded by half empty beer bottles and all the Hustler magazines.

Felice brushed passed her and carefully walked through the kitchen. She flicked on the light then disappeared around the corner into her studio.

Bailey turned and walked back out into the yard. She went to the barn and found the door wide open. She thought of crackheads but the tracks on the ground gave away the real suspects.

“Strange Clan,” she whispered, “Oh shit.”

She went back into the house.

“What’s going on?” Felice asked, she was in the kitchen with a pen and pad, making a grocery list.

“Someone broke into the barn,” Bailey said.

“Do you think it was Jonnie?” Felice asked.

“No it was crackheads,” Bailey retrieved her gun from the top of the china cabinet.

“Oh no,” Felice said, “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m going into the woods,” Bailey paced flipping open the bullet chamber and nodded when she found it full.

“To hunt people down?” Felice asked.

Bailey stopped cold, flipped open the chamber and dumped the bullet out into her hand. She should have kept the whole incident a secret. Bailey figured her father’s fathers had done the same thing.

“I guess not, Felice,” she sighed, “It doesn’t make any sense to call the cops. They don’t do anything around here.”

“Lets go check out the damage,” Felice said.

“No.” Bailey said heading towards the door, calling over her shoulder, “You stay in here. I’ll go.”

“No.” Felice said putting her list on the table, “I’ll go with you.”

She trailed Bailey to the barn. They stood at the entrance awhile staring into the darkness beyond the shaft of sunlight that fell through the door casting their silhouettes on the bare ground.

Bailey flipped on the naked bulb that hung from the metal wall.

Strange Clan had gotten to the bread Bailey had neglected to take to Mr. Waters. They had taken her tools, screw drivers, her hammer, the useless rusty saw, some knives, her bow.

Weapons.

Bailey sighed, it was meant to be a tired one, but it came out pained.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said to Felice.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “They took your bow.”

“I can get another,” Bailey said leaving the barn, she stopped at the gate and turned to Felice.

“They’ll only get bolder, Honey,” she said, “Promise me Felice that you won’t go wandering around.”

“I promised, Bailey,” she replied, “I’ve had my fill of wandering around Arcola.”

“Good.” Bailey said, regretting bringing Felice back to Arcola, “Let’s go get us some supper.”

..........

The guys stood at the front of the garage playing hackeysak. The heavy rain had scared away most of the costumers with rain check tickets to return the next day if the weather did not clear up by closing time.

Ed had called, angry at all the business he was losing that Fall, with the terrorist attacks and the rains. Bailey only ran a hand through her freshly cut Back Street Boy hair-do descended the tower and joined in the ball game.

The P.A. system piped up and Guy announced that Bailey had a visitor.

“Goodness, company,” she muttered to herself and trudged to the front. Speculating that Felice had come to visit. They had made love the night before, the most passion they had stirred up since Summer. Felice knowing how slow things were had practically begged Bailey to stay at home with her in bed all day.

“The woman can’t get enough of me,” Bailey muttered through her smile, she squinted at the figures at the front as she neared. Felice had not come, her aunt Socorro was waiting in a purple over coat that came to her massive hips.

“Hey,” she nodded her head at Bailey.

“Ms. Preciado” she answered, “Is everything ok?”

“No,” Socorro said looking around a bit.

“Is Felice ok?” Bailey asked, “Is there some kind of emergency?”

“No,” Socorro replied.

She stared at the older woman wanting to suggest that they walk up to her office, but feared she would never make it.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Bailey said, “We can talk there.”

They walked through the gates of Grab-A-Part to the black tar paved parking lot that glittered with broken glass.

“Awhile back when Felice was younger,” Socorro began, “After she started selling her art and got a little money she got it in her head to have a baby” she paused to rub at her chin nervously with the heel of her hand. “This is before she met that crazy negrita.”

Bailey frowned, figuring that she was talking about Margo and nodded for Felice’s aunt to continue.

“Anyways,” Socorro shrugged, “She got with some man for a few weeks and got pregnant for him, then dropped out of sight.”

Bailey almost told her to shut up. To stop telling lies. That she did not like this joke.

“He didn’t know where she was,” the old woman went on, “I didn’t know, until she wrote me a letter saying she was in Mexico, that she was pregnant and needed money.”

“Did she have a baby?” Bailey asked, awed.

The old woman shook her head annoyed that the course of her tale was injured by the interruption. “No she didn’t have no baby, it died four months before it was due. That Margo who was in Mexico boxing brought her back and Felice told me she lost the baby.”

Socorro sighed. “She was sad about it, but she’s young, she got over it.”

They were silent, Bailey could not see her love in the arms of a man, and figured that she must have desperately wanted a baby to go through so much trouble.

“Listen,” Socorro whined firmly, “Stupid gringa. She gone and done it again. She’s pregnant.”

Bailey swallowed. “Why’d you come tell me this?”

“Cause its true,” the fortune teller frowned, “You’d rather not know? Her go off to Mexico again and lose another baby?”

She lowered her head wanting to cry. “Damnit” she muttered, “Why’d she go and do this? I’d have helped her. I’m not too fond of kids but still if she wanted it…”

Socorro patted her shoulder. “She needs somebody. If you love her as much as you seem to, and I hope you do-you won’t let this bust ya’ll up.”

She got into her little car making it shift, Bailey noticed that the decorative steering wheel with the Cadillac emblems of cracked and faded.

“What is this an 89’?” she asked leaning over, “I can get you a new wheel and put it in, look good as new.”

“That would be real nice,” she said nodding without looking up at Bailey she shut the door and drove away.

Bailey went back inside the lot and went up to her office and stayed until the end of the day, glad that Guy or nobody else came to bother her. She dreaded going home and looking into Felice’s eyes afraid of the lies that might be revealed. She had left a significant piece of her life out of all they had shared about their pasts.

Worst of all she had gone behind Bailey’s back and shared herself with some man, probably one of those goofy pansy art groupies. When she found out who it was she was gonna bust his fucking head, and dare him to deny that he had not liked fucking her.

She’d probably put his hands in a coon trap and kick his ass with a steel-toe boot. She’d probably try and scalp him, and cut off his balls and present them to Felice in a velvet box.

Bailey did not bother to pause and take off her work boots when she got home she stomped through the kitchen and found Felice smiling in the doorway as she walked from the studio, and then she start frowning, puzzled at the look on her love’s face as she stalked across the kitchen past the refrigerator and the beer, her work boots leaving greasy scuffs on the clean floor.

“I gotta talk to you” Bailey grabbed her wrist.

Felice jerked her arm back, angered by the violence.

“What the hell has gotten into you, Bailey?”

“Goddamnit,” was her roared reply that choked into a sob, “I fucking worship you Felice.”

“Bailey, I don’t understand-” she caught her lover’s face between her hands.

Bailey backed away wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, her chest shuddered and her throat ached. “Do you fucking hate me now?”

Felice shook her head. “Bailey please, listen to me, what did Socorro tell you?”

“She said you were pregnant before,” Bailey sobbed, “That you’re pregnant again” she shook her head still wiping away at her eyes. “The only thing I can’t possibly give you.”

Felice gave a grave smile. “But you did give this to me, Bailey.”

“What?” she asked, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face.

“I was not sure how to tell you…” Felice stammered, “This baby is ours, I’m sure, I’ve heard stories where love alone makes a baby-.”

Bailey turned away. “Do you think I’m stupid or something? Do you think I’m so backwards that I don’t know there’s only one way a woman can get pregnant?”

“Bailey,” she said almost in a whisper, “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Goddamn, Felice you just don’t get pregnant” she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Christ, I can’t believe you did this to me. It’s not fair. Cause I love you.”

“I love you too, Bailey” Felice touched her shoulder, “I wouldn’t do this to you.”

Bailey stalked to the kitchen and got a beer.

“Maybe,” she screwed off the cap and drank half of it in one gulp, “If you’d said it was coming from the cabbage patch, but not from me Felice, that’s just crazy”.

“I love you,” she said, “And you love me.”

Bailey looked at her, not sure if she could agree that phrase seemed too fucking meaningless now, she raised the bottle to her lips.

“Don’t you?” Felice pressed, “Will you put that down? Fuck, Bailey, the answers don’t come from a goddamned brewery.”

Bailey threw the bottle past Felice it exploded against the wall like a bottle rocket in a spray of amber glass and foam. “The answers ain’t coming from you, at least not the right ones.”

Felice took a breath. “The question is: Do you love me? Bailey, you should know the answer to that.”

“I do,” Bailey wept, “Even now I’m sure I should hate you, but I just can’t-not even for this magical pregnancy bullshit.”

“There are stories- my grandmother told me- from the Indians of women running away to be together and through their love of each other making a baby-there is more involved in making a child than some sperm and eggs it’s a joining of souls.”

Bailey shook her head still crying.

“You saw the impossible yourself,” Felice’s voice was stern, “Your dead cousin haunting you so strong it was like she was alive.”

Bailey felt tired then and leaned on Felice’s breast, just the night before she had rejoiced to find her rounder, at the hips, and belly, pleased with the slight plumpness.

“It’s a miracle,” she continued on in a murmur, stroking Bailey’s hair.

“Our very own miracle.”

..........

The next morning Bailey began her pawn shop pilgrimage across two counties to find another gently used hunting bow. It was the only thing besides the tools that she was in a hurry to replace, if the price was right.

Her search ended in Alvin at a pawnshop that called itself was a trading post. It resold mostly hunting equipment, but there were appliances, and plenty of over-priced old guitars and amps.

The Slick Old Dyke behind the counter flirted mercilessly, Bailey thought she was pretty cute, she had a kind ruddy chubby face care worn from the sun.

“I like the way you handle that” she said, as she watched Bailey tryout the drawn length.

“You won’t find many used bows matched to a woman like that one.”

“Yeah” Bailey liked the bow well enough, “S’got a lot of gadgets, a sight and a stabilizer.”

The Slick Old Dyke chuckled. “Of course you need a sight.”

“Naw,” Bailey said.

The slick old dyke was amused. “How about I throw in a dozen aluminum-carb arrows and a buck knife.”

“Sounds good,” Bailey said.

They shook on the deal like proper gentledykes, and while the woman busied herself with the sale, Bailey looked around at the jewelry counter. Most of the stuff what costume jewelry crap, but a silver ring caught her eye. The band was of stout, dark silver a round stone of smoky rose quartz was set in a delicate crown of silver patterned in a lacy design. It was something Mother would have sighed over.

“An older man brought that in earlier in the week. Definitely antique,” the Slick Old Dyke appeared out of nowhere, “I told him nothing like that belongs here but I would gave him an honest deal.”

She then looked awfully disappointed as if she had planned to do a little more than shake hands over the deal.

Bailey was doubtful. “I’ll take that ring too.”

..........

The weather changed back and forth from the strange spring weather fall to little dips of windy days in the low sixties and frosty nights in the high forties. The warmth of everything changed, the house was tight, moist and stuffy. Felice’s skin always felt feverish, if she happened to brush against her at the door of the bathroom or in the kitchen or in bed, the coolness of Bailey’s skin numbed her own.

She felt Bailey, avoiding looking at her, averting her eyes when she walked in on her while she was dressing or bathing. Felice noticed her shape was growing to a roundness that pleased her, belly and breast as attractive as ripe fruit. She wanted so bad for Bailey to look at her, to touch her, to enjoy her body as much as she did.

By her calculation the birth was six months away. March. Just in time for the beginning of Spring. Felice thought of Jonnie in the woods, on top of her that hot July afternoon. She would have to keep the truth from Bailey, she would never understand that a baby from Jonnie was just the same. A Williamson, when they were sure their branch of the family tree had come to an end.

Felice watched Bailey’s truck drive away in the morning, then she would go to work herself, the show was coming up, and she needed something more to present. The red streaks were an idea, but they did not hold enough substance on their own.

Usually went to the studio, pulled her stool in front of the windows and watched the empty pasture. She also watched the woods.

One morning she stood decisively. She was in the mood for fruit, something with the tang of citrus, but sweet. She donned her tan corduroy jacket and quickly padded out to the car. Arcola was dry and cool, the sun muted by gray clouds.

As she crossed the tracks and waited for traffic to clear so she could cross 521, Felice spotted the apples and oranges like baskets of fire.

She parked next to a blue Mercedes admiring the car’s sleekness. Felice browsed the fruit half listening to the conversation between Patsy and the Mercedes’ owner, a slight black woman the color of the insides of the clear bag of pecan she was purchasing.

“That’s her,” Pasty said and waved.

Felice looked up and waved back, she spotted a bunch of tangerines, picked one up and sniffed it.

“Hello,” the other customer said approaching Felice in an almost cautious manner.

“Hello,” Felice said.

“I’m Olivia Taylor,” she extended her hand.

“Oh,” Felice said and could not say much else for a few second.

Dr. Taylor studied her. “I’m an old friend of Bailey’s”

“Yes,” Felice answered grabbing a plastic bag, “She’s told me about you.”

“And Patsy’s been telling me about you,” Dr. Taylor smiled a little, she was a cute little thing Felice decided. “I’m glad Bailey finally found someone.”

She nodded and began to load tangerines into the bag. “Me too.”

“She was alone for a long time,” Dr. Taylor said.

“I know,” Felice said wondering how anyone could just abandon a person like Bailey, know that they were lonely and just stay away. She side stepped Olivia Taylor to weigh her fruit.

The good doctor gathered her pecans under her arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“Sure,” Felice answered abruptly not turning from her task, she listened to Dr. Taylor’s retreating footsteps, heard her say good-bye to Patsy. Felice abandoned her fruit on the hanging scale and followed the other woman.

Olivia Taylor unlocked her passenger door with a keyless remote, she opened her driver door.

“I want to understand,” Felice called to her.

The other woman turned.

“Understand what?” she asked.

“Bailey. Arcola,” Felice answered.

The doctor shook her head. “I was with Bailey for three years and I never understood.”

Felice chewed be bottom lip, her hand roamed to the side of her stomach, she was not showing yet, but soon the whole damned town would know she was pregnant.

“Did she ever tell you the whole truth?” Felice asked.

“She tried,” Olivia said, “Several times she tried. Bailey’s not the talking type, but I felt her pain, her sadness.”

“So have I,” Felice said, “You have no idea.”

They stood in silence for a minute.

“When was the last time you went to Williamson Place?” Felice asked.

Olivia laughed. “Years.”

“Come back with me,” Felice said, “We’ll have coffee. You can tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

The good doctor dropped her head, pondering the invitation.

“Maybe not,” she said, “I have to go.”

She slid into her Mercedes and the engine hummed.

Felice watched her drive away. She sighed and went to pay for her tangerines.

..........

Bailey missed the cows, after some disagreement with Felice she could always hide out giving them their evening feed or just having a cigar.

She stood under the old mulberry tree staring up at the creaking hardy vines that rolled to the ground, the thick leaves rustled in the wind. The sky was gray threatening rain since morning, but not a drop had fallen to further sodden the soaked town.

Bailey began to scale the tree like she did as a child, back then there were several vines to swing from, there was even a very elastic loop of vine that she would stand on, it was so springy that she could bounce and perform all sorts of acrobatics. That was before the burns though. It seemed to be a thousand years ago.

Sometime she and Jonnie would climb high into the branches and throw berries at each other staining their faces and hands. Then they found new games and new playmates.

Bailey could not climb so high anymore, but she was pretty far off the ground, concealed in the broad leaves. She took off her Comet’s cap and dropped it just to watch the bright red flutter to the ground. She watched Felice come out of the house and look around at the pasture, she walked over to the truck until she was satisfied that no one was in the cab, then she went to the barn. Her dark hair trailed down almost to her waist, lately she preened it on the hour, she looked beautiful to Bailey, with her jeans and a sweatshirt though it was not cool enough yet to start breaking out the heavy stuff.

She thought she had heard that pregnant women stayed warmer than everyone else. Bailey shook her head sure that she must have been confused. She went over her knowledge or pregnancy just to make sure, because babies certainly did not come from the cabbage patch. There involved a sperm and an egg introduced through intercourse, or according to a piece on 60 minutes the whole thing could be done in a lab.

She thought of the ring, that had kept in the truck in a white velvet box, feeling like she should give it to Felice. Then the doubt surfaced, and she kept seeing her love astride some man, taking in his seed.

Felice came out of the barn and looked all around, she turned to the woods, walking a bit towards Williamson field.

Out of habit Bailey immediately climbed out of the tree and called her away from the woods.

“Where were you?” she asked, jogging over a little out of breath.

“In the tree” Bailey looked up.

Felice looked up too. “Are you Ok?” she asked.

“I’m fine” Bailey answered, “You?”

She put a hand to her belly a habit that had appeared over the last few days, Bailey had watched her sitting at the table in her studio putting her hand to the slight swell at her abdomen.

“Physically. Good,” she replied.

“Yeah,” Bailey said.

“But I feel depressed, you won’t talk to me,” she reached out a hand to Bailey, who took it, she could never deny Felice anything, that was why she was torn up inside, she wanted to drive her away, hurt her so she would never come back, but she knew she could never do such a thing.

She began to cry out there under the mulberry tree.

“I just want you to understand how special this is,” Felice said.

“I recall what we used to have and that was pretty special too,” Bailey turned and walked a few paces away, “I want all of that back.”

“I can’t loose another baby,” Felice said calmly.

Bailey turned back to face her.

“Don’t I get an opinion? If the baby is mine and I want to get rid of it-.”

“How could you be so fucking selfish?” she asked, her face contorting with sorrow and anger.

“Then I guess I don’t have any say-so” Bailey felt a new strength, a cold steel coating her heat. “So what else do you want out of me Felice?”

She shook her head. “What I’ve always wanted, for you to love me.”

“I don’t have the guts to do anything else” Bailey told her.

“And the baby. Will you ever love the baby?” she asked.

Bailey turned back to the house. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how I can.”

fourteen

At Felice’s art show seeing the Jonnie inspired art, Bailey envied those secrets her cousin had learned.

She watched Felice sell all the junk-arrows, the wax chick plum cones, and the painting of Jonnie (that Bailey had posed for) with her bow and arrow poised, the cage of sparrows at her feet, the chick plums scattered about.

It was a bit overwhelming the way her fans spent money. Bailey got to meet Neil the guy who arranged all of the sells for Felice. He was white; a tall man with spiked hair beginning to thin up front, he wore black slacks and a gray turtleneck, and big black shoes.

Neil was pleased with himself more than anything, as Felice mingled he bustled about directing her to different people. She seemed tired to Bailey, not her usual out-going self. Neil noticed and kept bringing her glasses of wine.

“Drink this,” she heard him tell her, “The day of the sullen artist is over.”

He turned around and nearly ran into Bailey she was never far away and this seemed to bug him a bit. She had brought some food from the buffet.

“For Felice,” Bailey explained, “She hasn’t eaten anything since lunch” she side stepped him and bade her to eat.

Felice ate a bit of cheese then went back to greeting guests.

Bailey watched her for awhile, then occupied herself by looking around a bit. The show was at some up-town gallery, brand spanking-new, Neil had joked as they set up. She liked the ornately carved wooden eaves and the stained glass windows, but mostly the eaves, Felice would know the name of the style of architecture, she always knew such things.

“You’re Bailey aren’t you?”

Bailey turned to see a familiar face, one of Felice’s friends, the one that had been at the front desk of the meat-hater’s museum.

“Yeah” she answered trying to remember the woman’s name.

“Everyone’s been talking about you” she smiled, “How you rescued her from the oppressive boxer and whisked her away to your country house and got her to work again.”

Bailey had to smile. It was a nice story.

“Oh yeah.”

“Are you the archer?” she asked.

“Sort of,” Bailey shrugged.

“The painting looks a lot like you,” she extended her hand, “I’m Rachel. Remember?.”

“Yeah,” Bailey shook her hand.

“You want some coke?” she asked.

“Sure,” Bailey said frowning a bit, it was a strange offer in such a setting but she was tired of the wine and bottled water, and she was sure that caffeine would perk Felice up.

She pulled out a make-up compact and opened it up.

Bailey gasped when she saw the white powder.

“Oh, um no thanks.”

Rachel frowned. “Well do you want some or not?”

“No I thought you were talking about…not drugs,” Bailey backed away, “Sorry.”

The woman laughed. “You’re serious?”

“I’m going to go find Felice,” Bailey said, she turned and walked away looking around for her girlfriend. She rounded a corner towards the restrooms and saw Felice and Neil standing together in a corner, she was leaning over his extended hand seemingly sniffing him.

“Hey,” Bailey said softly not wanting to startle them.

Felice straightened and turned pinching her nose.

“Are you doing drugs?” she asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Bailey, please not now.”

She stormed past her suddenly very energetic.

Bailey turned on Neil, he had more than likely heard what happened to The Slasher and he did not want a Dodge door to the face or worse.

“Get with it,” he stammered, “Everyone does it.”

He offered up a little rectangular plate with a hearty line of fine white dust down the middle.

“Just a little,” she said narrowing her eyes at him.

Neil sniffed half the line pressing one nostril closed using the other to inhale the white dust. He handed her the plate his amused eyes began to tear.

Bailey leaned over the tiny metal plate, she pressed her right nostril closed and (just like Al Pacino in Scarface) inhaled with the other.

Neil laughed as she raised her head and staggered back dropping the plate to the carpet.

Her first thought as the coke blazed through her sinuses faster than the speed of light was that he had poisoned her, revenge for coming to his art show. Her heart fluttered against her ribs like a caged sparrow furiously trying to get free.

Bailey backed away from the restrooms, pressing her hand just above the bridge of her nose she returned to the show area where Felice was pulling a red drape from a large canvas, a painting of Jonnie’s silhouette, standing in front of a group of trees, the rest of the background was the article from the Fort Bend newspaper from January 1987, the murder had made the front page, they even had a picture of the murderer, and her would-be accomplice Ann Bailey Williamson.

The crowd gasped and applauded, taking in the red smears around the words, scrawls and doodles of thick paint that still looked wet and oozing.

Bailey dropped her hands at her sides and backed away, she left the gallery. Out back there was a sculpture garden. She staggered through the strange forms and dropped at the feet of a giant stone malformed goddess with fat arms no hands, a protruding belly, and large breasts. She was the re-creation of the Venus of some place called Wilendorf.

She hid in the shadow of the giantess’ curves she watched ants destroy the corpse of a bee among the grass. When Bailey looked up she saw Felice behind the sky had darkened a bit around the edges. Some time had gone by but she was not sure how much.

She seemed to float above Bailey, her hair like ebony wings.

“Are you Ok?” she asked, “Are you Ok?”

Bailey smiled at her. “Goddess Neil, I can’t believe you gave her coke.”

He appeared his face was red, his expression strained.

Bailey could feel her hand on her face it was blessedly cool against her feverish skin.

“She’s got the fucking sweats,” Felice said, she tilted a bottle of water to her lips.

“Drink this,” she ordered.

Bailey was helped to her feet and taken to the car, Felice turned on the air conditioning tilting the vents in Bailey’s face.

Neil hunched over the car. “She’s going be Ok.”

“You better hope so,” she slammed the door almost catching his finger Felice threw the car into reverse and began to roll out of the parking lot.

Neil followed a few paces asking about his cut of the sales.

Felice smiled and balled her hand into a fist extending her pinkie and pointer fingers in a “call me” gesture at him as she drove away.

“I take it you had a good time,” Felice said.

“I guess,” Bailey answered.

She sighed. “I can’t believe you did coke.”

“I can’t believe you did coke” Bailey said.

“I always do a little a line before a show, I was trying not to tonight.”

The car stopped at a red light, and she leaned over to look at Bailey. “I didn’t want you to happen upon me all lit up like Christmas tree.”

“Why?” Bailey asked, “You of all people don’t need help being outgoing.”

Felice laughed making a tight right turn. “It’s just a stupid thing to do.”

Exhausted Bailey made the seat belt a hammock for her head.

“We made a killing this evening,” Felice said, “We should buy a couple of cows.”

Bailey laughed bitterly. “No thanks.”

“How about a new mower?” she asked, “Come on there has to be something you’ve been wanting…”

She did not answer only stared out at the passing cars.

“I want you back,” she said not turning to Felice, “ Even though you’ve got that baby inside of you. Even though you dug up my past like a dry rotted skeleton and displayed it for Houston to see.”

She thought of the ring, hidden in the truck, in the drive back home. Bailey felt her hand at the back of her neck, she turned to see her smiling she grabbed her hand and kissed it slowly.

“I’m here. I’m always here…you little coke-fiend,” Felice giggled.

Bailey laughed. “That’s Mrs. Coke Fiend to you.”

..........

At the yard there were new cars to be inspected, and she opted to be outside working with her hands rather than inside the tower. She and Guy worked together getting along for a change-until they began to disagree about who was going to work at the yard that Saturday. Guy had an alleged hot date.

“I just want my chance to score like you got,” he smirked as lifted a baggie full of tiny dead mice under the spare-tire compartment in the back of a wrecked Ford Escort.

“What the hell?” the smell was delivered to his nose via a cold, stiff, breeze.

“Aww fuck,” Guy dropped the bag “Nasty.”

Bailey grimaced. “I guess Santa wanted to prove a point this year.”

Guy sprinted to the nearest wastebasket. Bailey marked the Escort grinning to herself, stray chalk dust rose into the air and drifted into nothing as the particles separated. Her fingers were red and raw from the cold, and her nose was dripping.

“Hey you got a visitor,” Guy said really strutting because Olivia Taylor was next to him, she was too old for him, but everyone knew he thought she was cute, except for Olivia.

“Yeah,” Bailey agreed, stunned to see her old lover.

“Hi,” Olivia said with a small wave, “Can we talk a minute?”

She shrugged wiping chalk dust on her coveralls, trying to appear calm.

“Yeah I got a few seconds,” Bailey answered her heart pounding furiously as she led the way up the tower. Up in the office, the air was warm, there was a little space heater up there that kept the place toasty. Bailey opened the door to her office and walked in. Miss December was on the beach in nothing but a big red and white striped bow across her breasts and some silver garland around her waist.

“I just came to talk about Jonnie,” Olivia began.

“She’s dead, took me awhile to realize but I’ve accepted it,” Bailey answered.

Olivia shook her head in tears all of a sudden. “I know it was her who hurt me. Not you.”

“Doc,” Bailey whispered watching her cry, “I don’t know what to say.”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” she took a hesitant step forward, “I should have know that you wouldn’t do a thing like that-”

“C’mere, Doc,” Bailey surprised herself and opened her arms, Olivia fit into them as if she had never left.

“I came to talk to you because…” she sighed, “I know you love Felice, but what if Jonnie hurts her too.”

“Jonnie’s long gone,” Bailey whispered.

“How do you know?” Olivia asked, trembling.

“She hasn’t been around,” Bailey said taking her by the hand allowing her to sit her chair.

“What if she hurts Felice?” Olivia pressed, “I could take it if it happened again. But what would it do to Felice?”

“What are you saying?” Bailey asked.

“I could stay with you,” she said, “Like I should have. You wouldn’t have to be alone. And Felice would be safe.”

“She’s pregnant.” Bailey blurted.

Olivia was silent. “How?”

“She’s always wanted a baby, now she’s gone and done it, but she thinks that somehow we made her pregnant. Together,” she took off her Comet’s cap and rubbed the scarred side of her face.

“How many months is she?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t know, her stomach doesn’t stick out, but she’s changing,” Bailey could not help smiling a little.

“How can you not know something like that?” Olivia asked, “Who’s her doctor?”

“I don’t know,” Bailey said.

Olivia stood shaking her head. “Get her to a doctor, do an ultrasound.”

“I want so bad to believe her, but it’s crazy,” Bailey said.

“So what about this baby?” Olivia asked.

“I never wanted this,” Bailey shook her head, “I just want to know the truth…but then I’m afraid.”

Olivia walked back around the desk. “Something’s not right, there’s no scientific explanation for a woman making another woman pregnant.”

“I want to believe,” Bailey repeated, “I can’t just leave her alone.”

She reached in her desk drawer and pulled out the ring she purchased several weeks before in Alvin, she had never found the right time to give it to Felice. She showed it to Olivia.

“Sometimes I just feel like taking it to her and telling her what it means, what I want this ring to symbolize for us, and sometimes I just want to take it back,” she explained.

“You love her that much,” Olivia said.

Bailey looked away and at the floor. “It would be so easy to just accept it.”

“You should not have to take care of a baby you did not plan to have together,” she shook her head, “That would always plague you. Unless it grows up and looks like a Williamson.”

They laughed and Olivia stood to leave.

“Hey. I’m sorry for any shit you had to go through on the count of the Williamsons,” Bailey said.

“Your family was like a bad car accident back then, people slow down to look but none of them have the balls to be out there poking around the wreckage,” she smiled.

“Yeah a real wreck,” Bailey said, “Thanks for coming by, Doc.”

..........

Bailey went to the yard Christmas morning she played with the dogs, and harvested some parts for the shop. She returned home around noon and built a fire. The guys at the shop had pitched in and bought Bailey a small box of semi-fine cigars, and Ed gave her a quart of Jack Daniels.

She smoked and drank most of the day while Felice worked on an art project. They did not bother to exchange gifts though Bailey held in her pocket the whole day the silver ring tied to the lining of her pants pocket by a filthy pink ribbon that told the tale in greasy-gray stains how she had carried it for weeks, to the yard and back home again.

Felice came to the fire and sat at her feet wrapped in a purple throw, to stare at the flames. Bailey switched places with her, then shifted uncomfortably on the floor not having bothered to shower when she came home from work. She realized she hadn’t washed her hands for their Christmas supper and felt disgraced.

Felice shifted with a start, pressing the side of her belly.

“Oh she kicked,” Felice shrieked as in disbelief.

Bailey started to her feet to turn to stare as if Felice would explode, split at the belly and fall apart.

Felice stood with the aid of the armchair.

“Touch right here Bailey,” patting the side of her belly.

“I don’t know if I should,” Bailey said.

“Here,” Felice held out her hand, and laughed.

Bailey’s heart melted and she gave her hand that was placed carefully in the spot Felice had indicated, it was feverish, even through her pajamas.

Bailey did not feel a kick, but only slight shift at the palm of her hand, then a weight pressed through Felice’s skin, something curled up tight there.

She laughed again, and kissed Bailey shyly as if for the first time, her shirt was raised, revealing her tight, brown, belly. They stood together, Felice leaning on Bailey while followed the weight of the life inside her from one side of her abdomen slowly shifting to the other side.

That night Bailey came in the bathroom as Felice bathed with the unlit stump of a cigar in her mouth, the last of her last. She leaned against the sink and watched her wife in the water naked. Felice said nothing, and that made her feel more unsettled she quickly finished and began to step out of the tub.

Bailey helped her, grabbed a towel and began to dry her gently.

“You look nice,” she said finally over the stump, the truth was Felice looked decadent, plush, over flowing with flesh, her breasts were fuller, and her skin looked as rich as chocolate cream. Bailey stood close finger combing the wet ends of Felice’s hair, and breathed in her clean scent. Felice clung to her once again.

“I missed this. You holding me” she said.

Bailey’s hands explored solemnly, because Felice’s body seemed so new, like a lush terrain to a woman who had been in the desert for days.

She began to pull her into their bedroom by the wrist, tossing her onto the bed brutally pressing their bodies close the belly frustrating her pleasure.

“Ow, Bailey,” Felice pulled away guarding her tender skin.

Bailey frowned and stood on her knees in the bed watching Felice with burning eyes. She looked helpless burdened by her belly, her skin damp her erect nipples peeked through her dark hair.

She went for her then, not minding the belly, pressing against her, pinning Felice on the bed and kissing her. Felice squirmed and cried out in pain, only fueling Bailey’s desire. She moaned and suddenly stopped fighting.

“Bailey…” she sobbed.

Bailey sat up again and saw the pink ribbon in Felice’s hand, the ring inside her palm. It had slipped out of the pocket of her pants and fell onto the bed.

Felice dropped it suddenly as though it burned her hand.

“It’s for you,” Bailey picked it up and tried to give it to her.

“No,” she said, “I don’t want it.”

“All this time you’ve halfway ignored me, you’ve been cold, and I did not think it was possible but more distant than ever-” she said quickly wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes before they could spill.

“I was excited about the baby because we were so much in love with each other, but if this is what she’ll see…I think I should go,” Felice got out of bed grabbing her little robe as she went.

“I have a baby inside me, mine as well as yours. I won’t bring her up in a loveless home, where she is resented-you’re being a jackass, Bailey, all because you won’t believe.”

Bailey followed her to the kitchen where she was pouring a glass of milk.

“Goddamnit, Felice where will you go? Back to Socorro or Margo? I’m offering to take care of you and the baby we don’t even have to talk about this again. I’ll just accept it. Ok?”

“I don’t know,” she turned in tears, “I’d like to go somewhere and be loved, like I thought I was here.”

“But I do love you, Felice,” Bailey said, “This was dropped on me like a Buick out of the sky.”

She had heard Simon the young, tow truck driver say that when he found out his girl friend got pregnant. Bailey witnessed his bewilderment that lasted few days, then one day he came to work and got more work done than two men could have, and he worked like that every day afterwards.

“I could get a job,” she said, “Something steady to support the baby.”

“What about your art?” Bailey asked.

“It’s not important anymore,” Felice answered. “I have to take care of her.”

“And I’m going to take care of you,” She took her hand and kissed, “I know if you gave up your art you would be sick inside.”

“What will we do?” She walked into Bailey’s open arms.

Bailey held her close. “I don’t know.”

fifteen

She stood on the small from porch a few tiny frogs leaped into a potted plant out of the rain. Several bars on the blinds in the front window were pried apart, and Olivia Taylor peaked through, she opened the door.

“Bailey?” she asked.

She raised the six-pack and gave a small grin. “Wanna have a beer with me?”

Olivia stepped away from the door and Bailey walked in.

“Nice house.”

There was a plush couch, a love seat and an old-fashioned leather recliner, a baby grand piano sat in the center of the room, buffed to a high gloss. There was everything from Chinese vases to African masks throughout.

Bailey stood awkwardly, removing her soaked Comet’s cap. “I don’t want to sit down, I got wet on the way in.”

“Oh,” Olivia hurried off to a hall closet and brought back towels, she took the beer and gave Bailey the towels.

“I have food if you’re hungry,” she said, “Leftover spaghetti, and sandwich stuff, I remember you did love to eat sandwiches.”

“You got mustard?” Bailey asked her belly growling.

“No, but that never stopped you before” Olivia grinned.

Bailey spread out the towels and sat down, ten minutes later the good doctor returned with a plate of sandwiches and some chocolate biscotti.

“I also remember you loved sweets,” she said, “I don’t know if you’ve tried this-.”

“I have,” Bailey said, “At Starbucks.”

Olivia laughed. “You went to Starbucks?”

“Felice likes it,” Bailey took a sandwich as Olivia disappeared again and returned with the beer. Dos Equis. “I told her I was going to a bar,” she said, “she’s being bitchy this evening and I couldn’t stand it no more.”

She took a bite of her sandwich there was turkey and roast beef, relish and some pale cheese.

“Swiss,” Olivia said, “I guess pregnancy can do that to you.”

“Pretty good,” Bailey said, “I need you to fill me in on all that stuff.”

“I volunteer at the clinic in Alvin sometimes, lots of teen mothers who don’t know what a uterus is let alone anything else about their own bodies.” Olivia explained.

Bailey nodded sympathetically. “She’s in pain a lot, I know she swells up in the ankles,” she told Olivia, “She says she’s gone to a doctor, but I think maybe she’s afraid.”

She munched on some biscotti.

“How far a long is she?” Olivia asked.

“Seven months she says,” Bailey answered.

Olivia sighed. “Is she getting plenty of rest? Is she having any back pain?”

“I think so about the back pain, she’s scared to take aspirin,” Bailey said.

She nodded soberly. “I was wondering if this pregnancy is real at all, there are some extreme cases like a psychological disorder, where a woman believes she is pregnant, she might swell and have symptoms.”

“I never knew such a thing existed,” she said, “Felice might think it was magic then.”

“But then,” Olivia said, “There are myths like she explained, Native American myths where two women make a baby, the results are not always good, but according to the myths it’s possible, then again it could just be a warning against unnatural sex.”

“Do you think there’s that much power floating around in Arcola?” Bailey asked.

“Maybe,” Olivia said, “I’m sure there are plenty secrets you’re not sharing.”

They were silent for a few minutes.

“I liked seeing you again,” Olivia said, “It’s nothing like when we were kids, there’s more freedom,” she sighed, “I want to help you. Just in case Jonnie hurt Felice more than we thought, and its affecting her psychologically. I want to be there just in case things don’t work out for you two.”

Bailey looked at her. “I don’t think there’d be strength left in me to love you Doc.”

The other woman just shook her head. “I don’t have the strength to love myself…. I always remembered feeling good around you, I always have, just to sit at your right hand, that would be enough for me.”

Bailey looked away, she drank down her beer, that had always been good enough for Olivia she had never wanted to go out or talk much, just be a comforting shadow that appeared when Bailey needed it.

“I can’t promise you that Olivia.”

The good doctor leaned over then, put her arm around Bailey’s neck, and kissed her just below her damaged ear.

“Why’d you leave me Doc?” she asked, “After Dad died…” Bailey pulled away lowered her head, a tear streamed down her face.

“My own Dad knew how I felt about you, I was still in my residency I was under a lot of pressure and I was scared after your Dad died, my father told me to stay away…”

Olivia moved close and pressed her head against Bailey’s chest, instinctively her arms went around her old lover. “He convinced me that I would end up throwing my career away, ultimately ruining my life.”

She sighed. “I don’t want to be gay.”

Bailey laughed, a short chortle. “If you want to be with me Olivia, you’re gay.”

“No I’m not,” she stood, “I’m not into women, just one particular woman.”

“But I’m a woman,” Bailey argued.

“I’m not disputing that,” Olivia grinned.

“Only the fact that you’re gay,” Bailey affirmed her thoughts turned to Felice, she would have called Olivia a nut, bent on pleasing her Daddy but conflicting and convincing herself of a strange stalemate.

“I should get back home” Bailey said, “Felice’ll get worried.”

Olivia took her hand and looked as if she did not plan to let her go without a fight, preparing herself to plea until she saw the tears in Bailey’s eyes.

“Come visit me again,” the good doctor allowed herself those words.

Her guest nodded clearing the lump in her throat with a labored swallowing and stepping back out onto the frog-studded porch, then into the drizzling rain.

..........

For New Year’s Eve Bailey flipped through 250 channels of premium cable, there was some sort of celebration happening in Times Square on MTV all of the rappers and scantily dressed pop girls were mingling, hyping their music for the following year. There were a ton of other people there to admire them, but they were as much the background as the buildings and big-screen ads and billboards featuring models in their underwear.

“I can’t believe you’re watching this junk,” Felice said as she came to sit at Bailey’s feet, she stood and gave her the chair and took her place on the floor.

“I’m just looking,” Bailey answered changing the channel, there was some program about mummification. “Have you had an ultrasound yet?” she asked, “The book I’ve been reading says you should-” She had been to the library researching the subject of pregnancy.

Felice petted her head she was wearing the ring though it fit tight around her swollen finger. “No.” She said simply.

“Dr. Taylor offered to give it,” Bailey said blandly changing the channel to make her suggestion seem more off-hand.

“Dr. Taylor…” Felice said, “You’ve talked to her? When?”

Bailey turned. “She found me. Came by my job last week.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Felice grumbled. She wondered if Dr. Taylor had told Bailey about their little talk at the fruit stand.

“I told her we decided to have a baby,” Bailey said, “-and that we wanted to have everything checked out and wanted to be discreet for now.”

“Oh,” Felice said, “She’s an O.B.G.Y.N?.”

“No but she volunteers at a clinic in Alvin,” Bailey said, “She has access to the equipment, she can tell if the baby is ok, if it’s not, well if it is no matter, I’ll have to see what I can do about a real oh-be-gee-y-n.”

“Of course the baby’s alright,” Felice put a hand protectively to her swollen stomach.

Bailey stood on her knees facing her wife.

“I’m sure” Felice smiled putting her hand there lightly.

“But we need to be extra sure” Bailey said.

..........

Felice held Bailey’s hand tight as Dr. Taylor applied a clear gel to the base of her stomach, then pressed what looked to be a phone receiver over the slick, wet, spot. It would send a beam of a high-pitched sound through the tissues of Felice’s body, her internal organs deflected the sounds and were converted onto the screen in tones of white, gray and black showing her perfectly empty womb.

Olivia looked away from the black screen clouded gray at them Felice bent over, head in hands and began to cry.

“It’s alright, Honey,” Bailey put a hand to Felice’s back, “It’s alright.”

“No it’s not,” she sobbed sitting up her eyes full of fury, “You fucking set me up.”

“No,” Bailey said, “Just calm down and we can talk about this.”

“You. Fucker.” Felice slid off the table pulling down her top, “You know perfectly well-”

“Goddamnit, you’re not pregnant,” Bailey whispered harshly, “You never saw a doctor or else you would have known. You’re the one who lied,”.

“Look at me,” she flashed her swollen stomach, “You felt the baby kick yourself.”

Felice stepped out of the room and stalked through the office, Bailey followed catching her by the upper arm.

“Leave me alone,” she screamed, “You stay the hell away from me Bailey, if you want to believe what you saw in there.”

“Felice,” Olivia was behind them, “This is nothing to be ashamed about. It is a psychosomatic illness, a phantom pregnancy.”

“What do you know ----?” Felice spat, “Nothing.”

“She knows enough to help us,” Bailey told her.

“I’m not crazy,” Felice sobbed, “There’s a baby in me and it’s yours, Bailey take a moment and stop thinking, go beyond what your friend here learned in med-school, what you can hear and see like that fucking screen in there.” She grabbed Bailey’s hand and put it to her stomach. “You open your heart and you tell me I’m not pregnant.”

Bailey felt the warmth there radiating from her wife and she knew the truth, as frightening, and as strange as it was since she first found out about the pregnancy.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Bailey said gathering her in her arms, “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you try to trick me?” Felice asked, her voice catching on anguish.

“I did no such thing,” Bailey answered.

“You and Olivia made up a phony ultrasound,” she began to cry, “Why?”

Bailey whirled around to face the doctor. “What’d you do Olivia?” she asked, “How’d you make it look like there was no baby inside of Felice?”

“Don’t fall into this madness,” Olivia hissed, “She’s been poisoned Bailey, turn her loose or something worse might happen.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Felice asked.

“Tell me Doc,” Bailey said grabbing the doctor’s upper arm, giving her a shake, “What the hell are you up to.”

“A VCR,” she confessed, “Some women like to get videos made, I just made one of my own womb…I hid the VCR and showed that to you.”

“What the hell were you hoping to accomplish?” Bailey stepped towards Olivia, “Drive me crazy? Hurt Felice? Make her lose out baby?”

The woman backed away. “Listen to you” she said, “Felice may be pregnant but there’s no way that baby is yours.”

“It is,” Bailey exclaimed, “I’m…sure of it now.”

Olivia shook her head. “She’s using you.”
Bailey looked away, there were a few others staring. Felice tried to tug her away, she was just as angry but she wanted to leave. “Let’s go honey.”

“You’re going to live a lie,” Olivia shouted, “Raise a child. What will you tell it? You think it’s hard for you to believe…”

Bailey allowed her wife to pull her away at last out of the clinic they left Olivia standing outside the examining room, shivering violently.

sixteen

There were not many women who had fathered children, and Bailey was unsure of what her duties would be when the baby was born. The rest of that winter though she knew her duty would be to serve Felice and make her as comfortable as possible. She figured that this would be nothing close to the comic-stereotypical pregnant woman snack fetishes like pink bags of cotton candy only sold at the candy store in the mall in Sugar Land.

The cotton candy was a problem since Felice seemed to eat a bale every three days, but the requests went beyond whimsical snacks to wanting to go for a drive in the middle of the night just to see how still everything was and all the lights still burning.

“It’s so still, Bailey,” she said once, “Where is everybody? I mean what is the difference between now and two o’clock in the daytime?”

“It’s four a.m. for one and also dark,” Bailey answered, stirred out of her drowsiness by the cold.

She wanted to see the new Sugar Land water tower just before dawn she was fascinated by the work of applying a fresh coat of paint on the new Sugar Land tower. It was covered with a great gray drop cloth, and in the day brown men scaled it blasting away the existing paint, then they spraying on new white paint, and redoing the blue lettering.

Sometimes she wondered what the hell was going on. Had she forgotten that the impossible had happened? Did she truly believe Felice, or did she love her so much she forced herself to believe?

As the weeks went on Bailey found that she had to push thoughts like that out of her head less and less. Felice needed her, and the baby needed her she could not afford to revel in the magic of it all.

Bailey wondered if things would be too tight, financially, she made twelve bucks an hour at Grab A Part. It had seemed like just enough, now Bailey was regretting her life, perhaps she could have gone to school, found something she could do besides run a junkyard.

“I never worried about money before,” she confessed to Felice one Saturday afternoon in February as they drove to the fruit stand, “But now…”

“Don’t worry,” Felice said taking the back of Bailey’s hand and rubbing it against her cheek, “We can do this.”

“I should get a raise from Ed,” Bailey said decisively, “I deserve it.”

Felice chuckled. “I won’t argue with that.”

The stand was pretty busy. Soon it would be planting time, the cold snaps would quit, the Cape Jasper would bud, as spring returned. Bailey grinned as she got out of the truck, just last May she met Felice and fretted over their first date.

“I want us to do carrots,” Felice said, “Some jalapenos, some bell peppers…” She paused and tilted her head towards the weak sun in the gray sky as if imagining the spring, “Tomatoes,” she said dreamily.

“Cucumbers,” Bailey snickered and winked.

“Kinky,” Felice purred and grinned.

Patsy reigned over the seed packets in boxes on a great metal table, she’d cut her blonde hair and it wisped, out as if it had been wind blown.

“We got mulch and stuff too,” she said in greeting and popped a smoking cigarette back into her mouth.

“Good,” Felice said.

Patsy had never said a thing about Felice’s growing belly. Bailey was sure the old gossip was shocked into silence. She was sure that they would be Arcola’s first lesbian family.

Bailey went to poke around at the mulch, if it was not to her satisfaction, she would go over to the feed store to by some. The plastic bags were piled on the side of the stand. Stella was there too, and she was high.

“Hey,” Bailey said.

The woman grumbled in reply. Her eyes were wide open, she leaned against the metal siding of the fruit stand, hands behind her back, as still as Bailey had ever seen a crack head.

She did not look at the mulch at all, pretty sure it was not as good as the bags at the feed store. Bailey walked around to the front of the stand sure it was better to turn up the earth first, let it breathe and get rained on.

Felice had picked out several packets and listened intently to Patsy. With one quick arch of her eyebrow she questioned Bailey about the mulch.

She shook her head in reply, then went to pick out some pears and apples, she was never too crazy about fruit but there was something about watching Felice devour a sweet pear as intently as she listened to Patsy that did it all for Bailey.

A silver hatchback pulled in followed by a police car. Vonya, and Rita Woods got out of the hatchback and strolled to look at fruit, throwing glances over their shoulders at the two officers as they exited their cruiser.

“Hey,” Vonya said to Bailey, giving a mock frown at her hair, “Who been cutting your hair?”

Bailey blushed and grinned.

“It’sa good job too,” Vonya nodded, behind her Rita Woods stared coolly.

“Felice,” Bailey said and shrugged nodding towards her wife chatting with Patsy.

“Oh she’s pretty,” Vonya smiled.

“Pretty stuffed,” Rita Woods said and made a disapproving, “hmmph.”

“Well we just couldn’t wait,” Bailey grinned.

Rita left calling over her shoulder. “What did your momma need from here?”

“Lemons she say,” Vonya waved good-bye and followed.

A scream sent their attention to the side of the stand. The two cops each had Vonya under a shoulder, and were dragging her across the lot.

“I can’t leave,” Stella cried, “I can’t.”

As if she knew she was defeated, Stella’s head lolled back, and the too big work boots she wore slid right off.

“Where you taking Stella?” Bailey charged into their path.

“Off the streets,” the cop answered, “Her own family called for it.”

“Ima old woman,” Vonya moaned, “A old woman.”

“You any relation to this person?” the cop asked the hint of a smirk on his face.

Bailey stepped aside and let them pass.

“Oh shit, they’re taking her,” Vonya said.

“Fuckers,” Felice grunted, then sighed, “It’s probably for her own good Bailey.”

Rita hmmphed a little louder.

“You know,” Bailey turned to Vonya, “You’re too sweet of a girl to be hanging around with mean old Rita Woods.”

“Bailey?” Felice asked.

She walked past them all to stand and watch Stella be put into the police car, Bailey knew she would never see the old woman again, she’d die without the crack cocaine, without Arcola under her feet.

Later, when they pulled into the gravel drive, Bailey thought how scary as hell to have her kid grow up in hateful, old Arcola. Besides finances and the house repairs there were other preparations to make and Bailey began to prepare for the time when she would have to go into the woods and eradicate Strange Clan.

From that night on when they slept, Felice curled on her side facing Bailey, who lay facing her, the two of their bodies curled around Felice’s belly. It was as if they both knew there was a danger lurking about their little house.

..........

They got a real doctor’s check up from a thin pale woman named Dr. Brown. When she turned on the screen and the baby appeared moving a little bit, her heart a little contracting black spot, Felice watched as Bailey began to cry right there in front of Dr. Brown who only smiled wisely and pointed out the sex.

“We’ve always thought of her as a girl,” Felice smiled at the screen.

“She’s beautiful,” Dr. Brown stated and smiled at them.

Embarrassed, Bailey clasped Felice’s hand. “She’s a Williamson.”

At home Felice watched Bailey climb into the attic and pull out her own crib, bassinet and a little wardrobe closet that had belonged to Joe Bailey as a child. Felice discovered that there were memories hidden all over the house, like an old terry cloth treasure with button eyes and a felt nose, flattened out of shape in a closet behind boxes, or a bottle of gin in the toilet tank, or secrets buried deep under the foundation of the house seeping up like smoke between the walls.

She and Bailey refinished the furniture and moved it to their own room. Bailey immediately began to talk of remodeling, adding on a room for their daughter. It was her idea to repaint the room a cheery yellow.

Felice painted brown cherubs and cupids with curly black hair and big brown eyes at the corners of the room.

Tia Socorro kept calling. She wanted to see Felice, know how the pregnancy was going. Felice did not want to go near the meddling old woman, and her prying gifts of sight, she was afraid Tia Socorro would now see the death in her.

Bailey came home one afternoon and announced that they had been invited to dinner. She grinned and smacked her lips because Socorro had promised homemade tamales and the homemade green salsa Bailey liked so much.

Felice agreed not wanting to reveal to her wife that she felt any ill will to her aunt. The two got in the truck and drove down to Old Sugar Land, over to Windfern road.

“Smells good,” Bailey grinned as they stood on the porch waiting for the door to open.

“Pancha,” Felice rolled her eyes, “You and your friend Socorro.”

“She’s nice,” Bailey sighed, “And she comes in handy.”

Socorro opened the door, Felice backed off so Bailey could be hugged first.

“Look at you,” her aunt said, “If I didn’t know better I’d think you’d been eating too much panduesa.”

Bailey laughed. “She’s beautiful.”

Felice felt herself blush, she had put on a lot of weight the last few weeks, but the flush was for Bailey’s comment. She felt more at ease and allowed herself to be drawn into the house.

Socorro took them right into the kitchen and they ate. Bailey unwrapped about half a dozen tamales during the meal, piling each with green salsa.

Felice did not want to eat too much or she’d have heart burn. She was done with being pregnant. She felt too uncomfortable in her own body.

She listened to them chat away about work, and home improvement. Then they all went into the living room to watch a telenovela, she and Socorro took turns translating for Bailey.

The evening ended with them on the front porch saying their good-byes. There was a family living in Felice’s little house, she could see their lights on as she stepped around the yard.

As Bailey loaded her take home plates into the truck, Socorro crept around and put a hand to the side of Felice’s stomach. The old woman stood a moment looking off at the dark road.

“What do you see?” Felice asked quietly in Spanish.

“Can’t tell,” Socorro answered, “You need to tell her mija, what happened in them woods.”

A look of disgust passed over Felice’s face and she stepped away, “That’s none of your business.”

Socorro sighed as Felice walked away and climbed into the Dodge, giving a slow wave to her aunt. Bailey shouted one last thanks for the fine dinner and started the engine.

“Feeling Ok?” Bailey asked once they were down the road.

“I’m fine,” Felice said.

“You’re tired,” Bailey said, “Let’s get you home and to bed. I’ll rub your back.”

“And my legs too,” Felice whined distractedly, for the first time in seven months, she was afraid.

seventeen

Felice wore maternity jeans and a soft, violet corduroy shirt that fit snug around her belly, there was a hood on the back and she pulled it over her head. An icy drizzle fell invisible except when it happened to speckle the surface of a puddle. She walked across the black parking lot a bag of tempera paint in her hand. Her belly was low and heavy, making it difficult to do anything but make a few sketches, but today she felt like she could do a project.

By noon she was back in Arcola, a sick yellow early dusk of a storm sucked up the sunlight. Felice turned on the lights of the Cabriolet as the rain began to fall suddenly like buckets of water were being poured from the sky.

Her windows began to cloud and she turned off the heat, she turned onto Morningside dreading having to pick her way to the house in the rain, she would definitely be soaked when she reached the front door.

“Better wet than trying to run in this body, and falling on your ass,” she said out loud.

The Waters chimney smoked white pillars into the rain, it was a lovely sight, and she could not take her eyes away from the sight.

As she turned into the drive, a man on a small horse darted out, Felice quickly jerked the wheel to avoid hitting him and the car began to skid on the wet gravel. Her belly tightened, and her uterus seemed to spasm, bracing itself for the worse.

The car went for the pines, the nose pushing between two of the trees, metal screeching against bark, glass shattering, the hood crumpling up like burning paper. The cabriolet jerked to a stop. Felice felt her belly push against the steering wheel and she moaned. She looked up and watched a crack run across her front windshield, multiplying like veins from a lightning bolt.

She gave a cry of relief and fear fighting with her seat belt, getting it over her head, then turning then grabbing the door handle and pushing it open.

The car shifted the metal groaning, Felice gasped. The rain had slackened to a hard drizzle, it was freezing cold and took her breath away.

“Help,” she called, she looked through the trees and saw no one. She looked for the man and his little horse, his long hair, wet, clung to his face.

Across the road, behind the ditch, among the trees, he was there watching her.

“Hey,” she called, “Please go get help.”

He did nothing, said nothing, she thought that maybe he was a crack head, until he moved a bit beyond the trees, and she saw that he was not a man on a horse, but a man only a little past his waist, the rest of him was furry and brown, the color of his hair.

She screamed then, and ducked outside the car, sure she did not see what she saw, the pregnancy had gone fine so far, she did not feel disconnected like when she was bleeding so much, she would have expected to see something like that thing on the other side of the road during her bleeding, but now, things were going good.

Her head swam as if her equilibrium was out of whack, and she would fall, but she managed to get to the house, up the porch steps, through the kitchen door, locking it behind her.

Felice’s wet feet betrayed her on the tile, and she slipped, cradling her belly as she fell on her knees, weeping.

She pulled herself up with the aid of the table, and lurched towards the phone.

There was no dial tone when she picked up the phone in the kitchen, so she went to the other one she kept in the studio and got the same.

“Shit,” she whimpered, returning to the kitchen, stopping to watch a form move past the window, the form of a man with too much hair, a man with a strange gait along with those hollow clicks moving closer to the door.

Then it stepped into view, the creature that jumped in front of her car then watched from the side of the road, the antlered half man, half deer.

It used a stout stick to hit the glass in the screen door.

Felice screamed and, turned away running towards the other door, as she rounded the corner she heard the crash of glass breaking and showering to the floor. They entered the living room, two of them trotting past the T.V. and Bailey’s recliner. The things did not make a sound, only their hooves thudding on the carpet as they cautiously made their way towards her, unsure of their new surroundings.

She ran to the studio she could climb out one of the windows, she still clutched her keys in her hand. Felice went to one of the sills and struggled to lift the pane of glass behind her she could hear the creatures stepping off the carpet and onto the tile; coming for her.

Felice grabbed a broom and turned to the window to break it out.

There were more of them out there; several crouched down in the pasture under the mulberry tree.

“You fuckers,” she groaned, “What do you want?”

The creature’s forms filled the doorway, one walked in, a young rail thin female, she startled when Felice spoke, but advanced with the same uneasiness.

Felice grabbed a can of varnish and dumped it on the floor.

This stopped the creatures who watched puzzled as the dark stain spread, shifting back towards the door. Felice wished the varnish were something malignant that could spread across the floor and swallow them up.

There was an impatient roar and he entered the room, the one that had run her off the road, he trotted in with an air of urgent business, right through the wet varnish leaving smeared tracks.

Felice grabbed the broom swinging it at the creature. It caught the bristled end and yanked the broom from her. He snatched at her, Felice stepped away cringing against the windowsill crossing her arms to protect her belly.

He grinned a smile worse than Jonnie’s and snatched at her again catching her sweater and dragging her close, pushing her into the arms of his assistants.

Felice groaned fighting them, a swift blow to the back of her head subdued her, she felt her knees go weak, and her body dragged upright through the kitchen.

There was another roar from him, and a scattering of hooves, the others had discovered the foodstuffs away in the cabinets and shelves in the kitchen and were gorging themselves.

He ushered them all out carrying the food they found and Felice, he saw the bow and shotgun in the corner by the front door. He snatched up the shotgun and roared, rearing and trampled the bow to pieces. He galloped out of the door and back out to the woods.

..........

“What the hell?” Bailey asked the empty, dark kitchen, her work boots crunching on the broken glass of the outer door, the pieces littered the floor like the confetti of a recently abandoned party.

“Felice?”

She stepped into the room, seeing the cabinets torn open and food on the floor.

Bailey looked in the corner for her bow and saw it smashed in two and the shotgun was gone.

“Oh shit,” she hissed.

“Oh shit is right.”

Bailey turned to see Jonnie Boy, in her usual T, only with red sleeves.

“Where is she?” Bailey asked, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Jonnie said coolly, “Strange Clan is behind this.”

Bailey ignored her. “Felice,” she screamed checking the house, in the studio she saw the spilled varnish and the hoof prints.

“I fucking told you they were up to something,” Jonnie said, “You never listened to a damn thing I say. Now they’ve got her.”

She grabbed her new buck knife from the top of the china hutch and ran out of the door, across the field and into the woods, not sure what she would do with no weapon, and Strange Clan with her gun. She knew she had to get the shotgun back.

“Why?” she turned to Jonnie who had followed.

“ ‘Cause you’re trying to multiply,” her dead cousin answered, “They out number you right now-”

Thunder rumbled in from the deep woods. Only a Williamson could have recognized it as the blast of a shot gun distorted by the twilight.

..........

Her water broke. She felt the dam that held in the fluid around her baby snap. She fell to the cold ground as her legs were coated in wet warmth.

The creature with the shotgun leapt sideways like a skittish horse, and the gun went off.

He dropped the gun and all of them scattered.

Felice lunged for the gun screaming as exploded at her waist and spread through her body like shrapnel. She felt the wood of the handle but her hands would not obey her and catch hold of it. She ran in a stumble seeing through the trees the glow of white stone walls.

“Jonnie help,” she screamed, “You have to help us.”

The demons followed, their hooves striking the stone. The largest one leapt in front of Felice swinging the shot gun. She ducked the blow but was grabbed from behind by her hair.

Their leader grinned and tossed the shot gun to the ground not interested in that particular toy. He grunted to the others, taking hold of Felice’s hair. They came and covered the shot gun with dry grass and leaves.

“Fuckers,” she hissed as she was dragged away, “Oh God. Bailey.”

..........

“They have weapons?” Jonnie asked, “Real weapons?”

“Broke into my fucking shed,” Bailey told her, as they ran through the woods, into the twilight, “While we were away.”

“You really fucked things up this time cousin,” she answered.

“Wait,” Bailey stopped, “Where’s your bow?”

“My bow?” Jonnie scoffed, “ My bow is just a ghostly apparition. S’not real at all.”

“It was,” Bailey told her, “I buried it after they buried you.”

“Remember where?” Jonnie asked.

“Hell…” she slapped the side of her face trying to remember.

Bailey fell on her knees and began to dig furiously this had to be the spot though it should have been over grown with brush and weeds like the rest of the deep woods. The air was cold enough just like the day Jonnie was buried.

The sound of a member of Strange Clan she stood up and saw one of them drawing a cruel bow, the arrow pointed at her. Jonnie’s idea had backfired, there was no way Strange Clan could make guns, but bows, it only took one leader, a general to come up with the idea of making one.

“Illyumson,” It said, “Come”

“Fuck you,” she folded her arms “Where’s my wife?”

It jerked its head away from the clearing. “Come.”

“Bring her here,” Bailey said, pointing to the ground, “You…fucker…bring her here…here”

It looked back to the woods and back at her then galloped away.

She looked to Jonnie, the Strange Clan had not acknowledged her presence.

“What the hell is going on cousin?” she asked.

“You got your wish,” Jonnie gave a sickly smirk, “Only you can see me. I’m a real fucking ghost, and I can’t do a thing to help you right now.”

“I’m sorry-” Bailey began.

“Quit it,” Jonnie waved her hand, “Just save her.”

Bailey stooped and began to dig, the day of Jonnie’s funeral she had brought their bows and arrows out there and buried them.

She heard them coming and cursed, standing directly on the spot where she had been digging. The biggest Strange Clan she had ever seen stepped through the brush, his shoulders were broad his brown hair and eyes had a sheen she had never seen on the creatures.

“The General,” Jonnie said, “They raised him special, gave him the best of everything so he could one day finish the feud.”

“How do you know?” Bailey asked.

“Look at him,” Jonnie said, “Strange Clan has made themselves a leader.”

Two males, two females and Felice, joined him. All were armed with the crude bows the arrow tips of sharpened stone. The General had her old bow, and quiver wrapped in what looked to be the furs of several animals. Tossing his head and spindly rack of antlers. Bailey did not doubt their accuracy but she knew she was better and faster than any Strange Clan.

“Honey are you ok?” Bailey asked.

Felice nodded weakly.

It was even colder out in the deep woods, Felice did not have her coat on just a heavy sweater and a scarf. Bailey wanted to take off her grubby old jeans jacket and give it to her but she knew the General would never allow it.

“Illyumson,” he boomed grinning, he tugged the hand of a female. “Mine” he said, and put a hand to her swollen flank moving it in a circular motion. “Mine” he said again.

His mate was pregnant as was Bailey’s, he wanted her to know before he destroyed her that Strange Clan would go on, they would win.

“Hate Illyumson,” he stuttered, “Took…kill.”

He stammered his vocabulary having run out.

Bailey looked down at her feet, and saw the curved glint of an arrow she had buried so long ago.

“Felice,” she said looking at the general and he thought she was talking to him, “When I tell you to I want you to hit the ground, run and hide, wait for me I’ll find you.”

Bailey stooped quickly snatching an arrow, digging into the dirt, feeling a string as taunt as the day she had buried it fifteen years before.

“Go,” she shouted and backed into the trees quickly strung the bow. A crude arrow whizzed past her head, Bailey let her own fly.

Bailey’s arrow hit the younger male she saw him and Felice fall at the same time as she scooted behind an oak tree. She peeked around the trunk to see her wife crawling to the safety of some brush.

The General and his own wife came after Bailey, their business was finishing the feud, that meant killing Bailey first and later her helpless unborn offspring.

Bailey crouched behind an oak tree and listened to them come for her. She unhooked the hunting knife from her pocket.

“Jonnie-” she began and turned to see that she was alone.

The rhythm of Strange Clan’s step neared, Bailey dashed to another tree and found herself face to face with the General.

He lowered his head and antlers swaying his neck, trying to catch her in the tangle. Bailey jumped back, turning swiftly.

She ran, the General behind her. Bailey ducked and rolled, he reared and bucked. A hoof scraped her side and she moaned flicking her arm out, the blade in her hand connecting with the General’s lower leg.

Bailey got to her feet once again confronted with the horns, with one hand she risked the tangle, the skin at her wrist peeled away in easy ribbons. She caught a fist full of horn and held tight, twisting, raising her knife wielding hand and bringing the blade down into the General’s shoulder.

When he howled she let go and tore her bow and from his shoulder. She released his horns and ran for the nearest oak tree.

She strung her old bow, it was a wonder the General had not broken it. She slowly craned her neck for a quick look around the tree. The Strange Clan had come from their posts in the woods, armed with tools, screwdrivers clutched in grimy fists, hammers swinging over lice ridden hair, and of course the crude bows.

“Shit,” Bailey whispered, there were too many of them and they were too close.

She leaned her head back against the oak rubbing her hair on the rough bark readying her self for attack. She turned her Comets cap’s bill around to the back of her head, stood, and stepped around the tree shooting at the nearest Strange Clan.

Momentum buried the arrows in the doe’s stomach. Bailey did stick around to see her fall she took cover behind another tree.

“Bet your heart’s pounding like crazy,” Jonnie said.

Bailey looked up and saw her cousin, she wore the word, sharp over her breast.

“I never thought I’d say this but I’m glad to see you” Bailey told her, “Give me a hand here.”

Jonnie looked away. “ You know I can’t do that any more.”

Bailey paused, and reached out to touch her, Jonnie shrank away.

“How many?” she asked.

“About five now,” Jonnie narrowed her eyes, “Look’s like they’ve sounded the horn.”

“The General?” Bailey asked.

“He’s out there-these bastards are cowards always have been.” Jonnie said, “I don’t know why you’re even hesitating.”

“Take him out, and the others will chicken out?” Bailey asked.

“We hope,” Jonnie grinned, “Just like the old days…five, four three, two-”

Bailey dashed from behind the tree, shooting and restringing her bow with an arrow from the quiver, running straight at Strange Clan, three of them turned tail and ran.

The General roared for their return, he stepped in front of Bailey brandishing a club.

“I know,” she stopped several yards away from him, “It’s all very frustrating.”

“Show down,” Jonnie said not too far away from them.

“I ain’t got time for dramatics,” Bailey muttered, she let go of the arrow nock.

The General reared and fell over on his side clutching the shaft of the arrow through his stomach.

“A gut shot,” Jonnie said.

Bailey walked over to him and watched his muddy colored eyes glaze over.

..........

She found Felice and half carried her out of the twilight Jonnie followed them as far the pasture.

“I got a lot of restrictions on me now, they get stronger as time passes,” she explained.

“I wouldn’t have gotten her out of there if it weren’t for you,” Bailey told her, “After the baby’s born, I’m gonna personally kill all Strange Clan, I can’t risk another General coming up, hurting my kid.”

Jonnie smiled at Felice who huffed along in pain.

“I just wanted to make amends for what I’ve done,” she grinned up at Bailey, “Take good care of that baby.”

Jonnie walked away from them towards the deep woods, and vanished.

Bailey continued to help Felice along, supporting as much of her body as she could, dead, wet, leaves clung to her cold body as she shivered and sobbed.

Bailey paused to rest. She gathered her wife in her arms and kissed the side of her face.

“I’m so sorry, Hon,” she whispered brushing Felice’s hair out of her eyes.

She did not respond only cried shaking them both as a cool wind from up north stirred around their bodies.

“Who were you talking too?” she asked, “Was it Jonnie?”

“Come on, we’ll freeze,” Bailey struggled to her feet.

Felice doubled over suddenly, letting out a painful wail that disturbed the woods like a north wind. Bailey had to sink to the ground or they would have tipped over.

She kneeled next to her.

“What’s wrong, Felice?” she asked.

“It…hurts…” she gasped through her sobs, “It hurts so much, I don’t think I can make it.”

Bailey shivered and gave her the jeans jacket that smelled of the yard. She helped Felice into it, then herself put on a mask of grim- tainted cheer.

“You’ll be fine, Baby, I’m gonna be there with you the whole time.”

Felice began to cry. “What if…?”

Bailey hugged her. “Miracles don’t come easy especially in Arcola.”

She bent again and hoisted Felice over her shoulder, leaving her bow behind. The belly hard and round against her face as she walked. Her wife moaned as they trudged towards the house. Bailey groaned making a labored job across the field.

Bailey saw Olivia Taylor in the drive, getting out of her car as they crossed the field.

“There’s Doc,” she said puzzled, and called out to Olivia, “Doc, I’m glad to see you, Felice is in labor. Her water’s broke.”

“How long?” Olivia asked trotting to them.

“God. I can’t tell you. We’ve been in the woods” Bailey said dropping her wife.

Felice moaned.

“Let’s get her inside,” Olivia said pulling Felice towards the house.

“What about getting her to the hospital?” Bailey asked pulling her wife towards the driveway.

“I want to get a look at her first,” she said, directing them to the house again.

“We don’t have time,” Felice sobbed, “The baby’s coming now.”

“Shit,” Bailey said.

Olivia stepped away from them her hand inside of her coat, she removed it, flourishing a .38, waving it quickly then pointing it at them.

“We got plenty of time,” she said.

“Olivia goddamnit,” Bailey moved to go past her but the doctor stepped back.

“Into the house, or I’m going to have to shoot Felice,” she jerked her head towards the house.

“What’s the gun for Doc?” she asked, balancing Felice on her shoulder, pivoting away from the drive.

“I can’t let that baby live,” Olivia said.

“You’re crazy,” Felice hissed, “Bailey take me to the fucking truck.”

“I can’t right now honey,” she said, “This is just a misunderstanding.”

Felice struggled slipping out of Bailey’s grip and falling to the ground.

“Olivia Goddamnit,” Bailey bent to pick up her wife, “Why are you doing this?”

She wiped her nose roughly with the back of her hand. “It’s cold out here, let’s just get inside.”

Felice’s body stiffened, she let out a scream more of rage than pain.

“You fucking idiot bitch,” she shivered, “The baby is coming I can feel her.”

“Take her inside,” Olivia said coolly, “I’ll shoot her in the stomach Bailey, I swear, do you want to risk losing her?”

Bailey quickly pulled Felice to the house, though she struggled.

“You can’t listen to her,” she said, “You can’t let her get us back in the house Bailey, you’re not scared of a bunch of devils in the woods, but you’re of scared a little doctor and her gun.”

The pain of another contraction swept through her and Felice went limp, Bailey felt an ache at her lower back and wondered if she had some how absorbed some of the hurt of the labor.

She did not say a word to her wife as she placed her on the couch, Felice on the other hand had a lot more to say, she swore like she was possessed and ordered Bailey to do something.

Dr. Olivia Taylor had gone insane, compared to Strange Clan she has a goddess-like intelligence. She had something on her mind and had brought a gun to make her point. Bailey intended to let her do that, but no one was going to hurt Felice or their baby.

“Hold her so I can look at her,” Olivia said, “I want to see how long we have.”

“What are you talking about?” Bailey asked.

“Just do it,” she commanded, “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Bailey nodded and did her best to comfort Felice while Olivia looked between her parted legs.

“She’s not fully dilated,” Olivia said an edge to her clinical tone, “We have a while.”

“I need to go to the hospital,” Felice pleaded.

Olivia took off her jacket, fitting her small hand and the gun through the sleeves. Bailey watching her, flinched and stood, realizing she had missed a chance to get the gun.

“I’m going to deliver the baby here,” Olivia said, “Then you take Felice to the hospital as quick as you can, she’ll need attention…I’ll take care of the baby.”

Bailey nodded dumbly wishing she had held on to the bow.

“Why?” she asked the good doctor, “Why do you want to kill our baby?”

Olivia shook her head. “Our…” she scoffed, “A few months ago you thought she was either lying to you or crazy.”

“Fuck you Doc,” Bailey said.

Olivia smiled. “Do you honestly think that you made this baby with her?” she switched the gun to her left hand and flexed her right wrist. She turned to Felice.

“When Jonnie attacked you did she fuck you too?”

“Go to hell,” Felice told her.

“Did she introduce you to her little friend?” Olivia asked, “The one between her legs…”

Bailey only shook her head and looked down at Felice who burst into tears.

“When did she?” she asked her wife, “Tell me when did Jonnie rape you?”

“It wasn’t rape,” Olivia answered for her, “She didn’t rape me, and I bet she didn’t rape Felice. Jonnie has a way of coercing-”

On the couch Felice began to cry. “I blacked out. I don’t remember.”

Olivia sighed. “You’re a liar. You’re lying because you liked it.”

“Shut up,” Bailey told her, “Just get out of here Doc. Just leave us alone.”

“You liked it too,” Olivia said, “You told me yourself, you and Jonnie were lovers.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything now?” Bailey asked pacing towards the good doctor who raised her gun. She froze in her tracks. “You tell me Olivia what the fuck does that have to do with my baby?”

“Your baby?” Olivia snorted, “It has everything to do with your baby. Jonnie’s figured out a way to return to us. She’s trying to be reborn. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“You stupid bitch,” Felice hissed, “What if you’re wrong?”

“Listen to yourself,” Olivia said, “It’s not so far-fetched as Felice’s idea that you got her pregnant, Bailey. Though I don’t think there’s a mythological precedent.”

Felice sobbed riding another wave of pain. “Bailey, please.”

“Don’t you understand?” Olivia asked, “If Jonnie comes back she’ll only break your heart again. She’ll grow up to be a sociopath, again.” The gun shook in her hands, “I tried to protect you then and I’m trying to protect you now.”

“By killing a baby?” Felice asked, “You’re sicker than I thought.”

Bailey made up her mind, she had to act. “Doc, I’m sorry for what Jonnie did to you,” she said walking towards Olivia.

“No, you stay back,” the doctor cried.

“Boys will be boys…but Jonnie never had a mother, her Dad was a drunk,” Bailey came closer, “She was just born different.”

Olivia backed into the wall behind her. “You stay still, Bailey, I’ll shoot you.”

Bailey stopped glancing behind her at Felice, she was three feet away from the doctor and her gun. She could lunge, but she could be shot if Olivia had the guts to shoot anyone.

“Did you ever think anything Jonnie did was bad?” Olivia was asking her, “Are you still making excuses for her thirteen years after she’s died?”

Bailey kept walking her palms up. “I’m not. She was a killer and a rapist.”

Olivia slid her back against the wall, inching away, back towards the couch and Felice.

Bailey lunged at her.

The gun barrel flashed and shook the whole house with its report.

Felice’s scream pierced her ears like the hot lead that pierced her thigh, Bailey crashed into Olivia. The two of them fell to the floor, Olivia pointing the gun towards Felice, Bailey scrambled into her pinning the good doctor to the floor by her wrists.

“Stop it,” she shouted into her face, “It’s over, Doc.”

“You’re a fool, Bailey,” she answered.

Felice rolled off the couch and crawled towards them retrieving the gun, stabbing the end of the barrel into Olivia’s temple. “You tried to kill my wife,” she roared, “My baby.”

“Felice,” Bailey said calmly, “Take the gun back to the couch sweetie.”

“Why should I?” she asked, “I’m in fucking labor, she’s in our house. She’s shot you.”

“Let it go baby,” Bailey told her, “Please.”

Felice sat up, she opened the chamber of the gun and dashed the rounds onto Olivia’s face, then spat.

“Does your leg hurt a lot?” she asked Bailey.

“Not as much as your whole body does right now,” she laughed a little, she quickly pushed away from Olivia and grabbed Felice, pulling her to safety.

“It’s gonna be ok,” Bailey said to her, “Do you believe me?”

“Yes I do,” she hugged her around the neck, still clutching the empty gun.

“Can you walk honey?” Bailey asked pulling her into a sitting position and then to her feet. Felice leaned on her shoulder as they limped out the door.

“Bailey listen to me,” Olivia called, “If you think Jonnie can come back as a sweet little angel you’re fooling yourself.” She got to her feet slowly and wiped the spit from the side of her face.

“She’ll hurt you again,” she insisted, “And Felice.”

“Go home Doc,” Bailey said over her shoulder as she headed towards the truck.

“You should have let me shoot her,” Felice grunted.

..........

The baby girl Felice had stayed in the hospital for two months. They named her Artemisia and watched her grow before their eyes. They were allowed to take her home where she continued to grow.

On her first birthday as Bailey held her, the two of them admiring the birthday cake on the kitchen table, Felice announced that Artemisia was to have a sibling. Bailey immediately sank to the floor, she would have fainted but she did not want to drop the baby.

Felice laughed, stooped and kissed her.

At the end of that next steamy August Felice gave birth to another baby. Bailey was shocked to the see the sex between the newborn’s legs. She had a son. Where Artemisia was tiny, he was rotund with shiny, black, hair and black, slits for eyes.

They named him Arturo Bailey.

Ann Bailey was pleased with both of her miracles but she prayed there would not be another too soon. They were getting to be quite expensive.

..........

When Spring came around again she went out to the twilight in the deep woods. Bailey was looking for Jonnie Boy. For answers. Instead she found broken branches, hoof prints, stone points and droppings, too close to her home for comfort.

So she returned to the woods with her bow, day after day hunting Strange Clan, mapping territory she or any other Williamson had never dared to enter. It was a chore she had shied for too long.

She had always knows that killing the creatures was murder, just as shooting a man and shooting a deer were the same thing; taking life. Yet she could not bear the possibility of coming home one day and finding her kitchen trashed, Felice and the children gone away from her forever.

By the end of summer she had ventured out through the twilight woods to Highway Six which surprised her. Bailey and all the Williamson’s before her thought there was no end to the twilight. Whenever she heard the rush of cars she would stop and double back.

One day in June she spotted a dried up creek that snaked along the ground. She found them bunking down in the shelter of the high steep bank. The cover was good. So good, she would not have found them if she had not heard the patter of tiny hooves on dried, cracked, ground and what sounded like weak laughter.

Bailey saw the loop of the creek and stooped, laying on her belly and gator crawling along the ground to look over the bank. She saw the General’s mate lounging in the canopy of a fallen tree that leaned over the creek. Not too far away she saw the General’s son galloping around waving a branch. They were slowly being killed off and it was harder to get food than ever. His little belly was round the skin taunt from malnourishment, his play showed it, his steps and movements were lethargic.

The months of killing took their toll on Bailey in that instant and she began to cry. Soon her own son would be walking, perhaps he was the last of the Williamsons, perhaps not. But not another one of Bailey’s kin would know of Strange Clan, the twilight that was their time was over.

Bailey took her aim and shot the General’s son, her arrow went through his thin body, his legs collapsed beneath him. His watchful mother gave a bleat of concern and left her bower, only to receive an arrow through the chest.

Bailey left them.

She walked out of the twilight, through the pasture, to the barn. A metal case waited open wide for her, there was foam padding on the inside to protect her equipment. She stored her bow away, closed the case, locked it, and stored it way on a high shelf.

There were three new calves in the pasture outside, cream colored Hilary, red Barbara, and piebald Nancy. Bailey smiled to see them there enjoying the shade of the mulberry tree.

Hilary mooed at the fence but would not leave the shade, she only trotted the perimeter of the cover the tree provided.

Bailey laughed at her and went to the house, she stopped on the porch and leaned against the door frame to take off her shoes.

“Felice,” she called.

She heard a reply from somewhere inside the house, Bailey went to open the door and saw Arturo in a diaper and t-shirt. He grinned slapping his hand against the screen door, he managed to lift himself onto his little curled feet and grinned.

“Hey,” Bailey cooed, “What are you doing?”

Arturo grinned some more and answered in baby babble.

“How about letting your Momma in the house?” Bailey asked.

He continued to pat the screen.

“I’m sure he’ll figure that out by tomorrow,” Felice laughed picking the baby up and opening the door. “How’d it go out there?” she asked.

Bailey sighed. “I got them.”

Felice hugged her and kissed the side of her neck. “If I could go out there with you I would, I know it’s been hard…”

Bailey took Arturo from her hip, the baby lay his little head on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have been able to rest until all Strange Clan was dead.”

Artemisia raced into the kitchen and hugged Bailey’s leg. “Owside, Mumma. Owside.”

“There’s my girl,” Bailey lifted her too and held both her babies close.

Felice smiled at them. “I have some interesting news.”

“What?” Bailey asked.

“It seems little Bailey-Boy there learned how to take off his diaper,” Felice said, “He picks and picks at the sides and before you know it he’s walking around half naked.”

Bailey laughed. “He’s a Williamson alright.”

“I thought the same thing,” Felice said, “Let’s eat.”

She had prepared tostadas, Bailey’s favorite after-hunt dinner. They took turns spoon feeding Arturo lukewarm, strained, turkey and carrots, while Artemisia made a mess of herself, smearing refried beans on her face.

When they were finished and cleaned up, Bailey took Artemisia out into the yard. The little girl loved the “Owside”, feeding the cows, and naming the birds.

Felice held onto Arturo’s hands and let him “walk” though the grass. The blades tickled his bare feet and he laughed a bubbly, raw, laugh.

“He’ll be running marathons next week,” Felice laughed.

The four of them sat of them sat on the porch swing. Felice sighed and fussed with Artemisia’s light brown curls.

“Bailey?” she asked getting her wife’s attention from the yard which she stared out at in a peaceful trance.

“What?” she asked Arturo shifting to find a comfortable position on her lap.

“Do you ever think that maybe Olivia was right?” Felice asked.

“Olivia is crazy,” Bailey said, “That’s why she’s been put away.”

“Still,” Felice said, “What if Jonnie had anything to do with Artemisia’s birth?”

Bailey pulled the baby close to her breast, he was near to napping. They had not talked about her dead cousin Jonnie since that cold day in the woods.

“But now we have Bailey-Boy,” she said, “Jonnie was a clever girl, but I don’t think she was that clever.”

Felice was silent, she was worried, Bailey saw her wife as if for the first time in over two years, raising the babies had kept them preoccupied, neither of them wanted to think of Olivia Taylor’s words.

“Do you feel like they are mine and yours?” Bailey asked.

“I do,” Felice said, there were tears in her eyes, she smiled, there were more lines in her face, more flesh at her neck, but she was beautiful still, even more beautiful so as Bailey watched the tiredness, the doubt and worry washed from her face by tears.

“You don’t know how I’ve doubted,” Felice whispered, “But deep down I know that what we share is too strong to be broken by anything. That we can bring miracles together.”

Bailey too her hand and kissed it. “Yeah,” she said, “Our very own miracles.”

She kissed the top of Arturo’s head, out in the pasture a flock of about twenty male cardinals flew in a bright red ribbon through the sky, landing in the mulberry tree, darting around the branches and leaves before taking off again. Bailey watched them turn into a thread in the distance.

The End

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

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