“Do you like it?” Simone calls.
Simone enters the living room wearing a handsewn yellow dress she created from an old pattern. The new dress is a little tighter than the previous ballroom gown had been. Simone tugs at the waist to make the dress sit right on her hips. She scrunches her nose in mock frustration.
“I think I sewed it a bit too small though,” Simone says, continuing to tug on the material. “I’ve been working on it basically since we got here. Well, between the gardening and our other projects. I thought I was doing pretty good.”
Crank climbs from his chair at the table and goes to Simone. He appraises her with a keen eye. The dress does seem a little small, but it hugs Simone's body in all of the right places. Crank manages a kind smile.
“I think it looks…Beautiful,” Crank says. “You are beautiful! Dress or not!”
Simone winks and releases the fabric of her dress. She smiles and pats Crank affectionately on his disguised cheek.
“Of course, you’d say that!” Simone laughs. “Preferably…Not?!?”
Crank is genuinely confused by her statement. His compliment being of a purely innocent nature.
“No…I mean…Whether you are wearing a dress…” Crank begins. “...Or not. You are still beautiful!”
Simone pulls Crank’s face down to where she can kiss his cheek. She enfolds Crank in her arms and presses her cheek against his.
“You are so sweet,” Simone coos. “Mostly because you have no idea what your words do to me.”
Crank relishes the pressure of her face against his cheek. He wishes he could rip the mask from his face and feel the warmth of her skin. And why not? This disguise won’t last forever. The Englishman and the lumberjack already know he is an alien. If they never leave here, he will have no need of the mask at all.
Simone picks up on Crank’s silent brooding. She separates just enough to peer into his face.
“We’d better go,” she says. “The others will be waiting for us.”
Crank leans forward and kisses Simone passionately on the mouth. She hugs him even tighter.
-
-
Simone and Crank are the last to arrive at the warehouse. Sherlock and Paul have assembled a large table and several chairs outside. Babe and the goat are tied to a post near the water trough, chewing contentedly on piles of hay.
Paul takes in Simone’s appearance with a blank expression which belies the sudden racing of his heart. Simone lowers a round covered dish to the table and offers everyone in attendance a bright smile.
“I apologize for us being late,” Simone says. “The dessert took longer to cool than I’d expected. I had to wait to add the cream.”
Simone is almost beside herself with excitement. Crank pulls out one of the chairs and she sits down. He takes a seat beside her, staring straight across the table at Paul Bunyan. Paul Bunyan offers Crank and Simone a wide smile.
“Cream?!? You all have cream? Where the hell did you get cream?!” Paul says in a loud drawl.
Simone scrunches her nose and points in the direction of Babe the ox. Babe raises her head as if sensing she is now the subject of intense conversation.
“Uh…Duh, Paul,” Simone says.
At first, Paul doesn’t make the connection. When he does, he lets out a choked holler and wags a finger at Simone.
“You’ve been milking my cow…Uh, ox?!?” Paul chuckles.
“Yes, Paul,” Simone says. “That’s kind of what humans have always done.”
Paul slaps his knee and twists his face in an amused expression.
“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” the lumberjack says. “Crazy. Babe and I have just been such good friends…I never even thought about her being a milk cow.”
“Yeah…That’s only because she’s pregnant!” Simone says reluctantly.
“Pregnant!?” Paul roars.
The giant lumberjack leans over the table toward Simone. He sneaks a glance at Babe and then returns his eyes to his female companion. Everyone at the table is now staring at Simone.
“Pregnant?! What do you mean pregnant? How can Babe be pregnant?” Paul asks, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“I don’t know,” Simone admits. “But she is. Maybe she met up with a frisky buffalo. I don’t know. But she is pregnant. I’d say about three months. Last I checked anyway.”
“How do you know that? What do you know about animals?” Paul exclaims.
“I know a lot about animals, Mr. Bunyan,” Simone says smartly. “I’m a science major. And my uncle raised quite a few of them. Believe it…Or not. Babe is pregnant.”
Sherlock has remained quiet the entire time. He chooses this moment to finally speak.
“So when the calf is born? Do we breed it back to its mother…Or do we eat it? Without Jane’s supply runs…We are rather short on meat,” Sherlock says.
Paul glares at Sherlock with the fury of one-thousand suns behind his eyes. The famed detective quickly shifts his gaze and points to a plate heaping with fresh biscuits.
“Spiced biscuits anyone? A new recipe!” Sherlock says excitedly.
Simone chuckles softly and points to Paul’s dish which sits covered at the center of the table. Paul follows the tip of her finger up to her slender shoulders and ample bosom. He only averts his eyes to keep from drawing Crank’s ire.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I assume that’s your famous stew, Paul?!” Simone says between another small laugh.
“Yes. That it is,” Paul says proudly. “Would you like to try it first? I don’t know if your spaceman friend will enjoy it. I burned the meat. I know he doesn’t care for burned meats.”
Simone catches the tiny note of hostility in Paul’s voice and her smile falters. She cuts her eyes over to Crank, who is glaring daggers at Paul Bunyan. She plasters the smile back on her face and squeezes Crank’s hand under the table.
“Sure, Paul,” Simone says. “I’ll try a little. And Crank will too. Burned meats are an acquired taste.”
Simone makes eye contact with Crank and mouths the words: ‘Please, Crank!’ The frustrated yautja nods and says nothing.
Paul ladles out a portion of stew for everyone and they all divvy up the spiced biscuits. Even Babe and the goat, affectionately named J.M., receive a portion of biscuits. Simone smiles at the baked masterpiece sitting next to Paul’s stew dish. Her first ever baked pie in this dreadful place. Hopefully, it will also be her last baked pie in this dreadful place.
“So what’s under the paper there?” Paul says with a grin. “What was so special you had to milk ole Babe here? Come on. Let us see it. I can tell you want to. You’re practically bouncing up and down in your chair, Simone.”
Biting her lower lip, Simone briefly peers at Crank. She peels back the waxed paper carefully situated over her masterpiece. Underneath is a beautiful spiced pear and berry pie. With whipped topping. Simone scrunches up her nose again with excitement.
“Tada!” Simone says with a dramatic gesture. “Sherlock has been giving me baking lessons with that stone pit. I finally was able to make a pie without burning it.”
“Hahaha,” Sherlock laughs. “Jolly good. You had me believing you were far from perfecting something of this caliber. Congratulations. You pulled the wool over my eyes. It looks marvelous.”
Simone’s color deepens and she drops her gaze. Crank gently squeezes her hand. She looks up into his face and he smiles warmly at her. This only causes Simone’s color to deepen further.
“Wow,” Simone says, taking in the sight of everyone and everything around her. “Isn’t this just like a Norman Rockwell portrait?”
Silence ensues as every eye once again falls on Simone. She glances around uncomfortably, and then stirs the stew on her plate. Her mouth droops with disappointment. Crank leans over to whisper in her ear.
“Who Is Norman Rockwell?” the curious youth whispers.
“Eat your food, Crank,” Simone says in a polite but tired tone. She holds a hand to the opposite side of her face and rests her elbow on the table. “Please.”
-
-
Once everyone has eaten their fill, Simone begins clearing the dishes. Sherlock Holmes climbs from his spot at the table and helps Simone to stack the dishes together. He offers her a kind smile. Crank moves to join them, but Simone casually shakes her head.
“It’s okay, Crank,” Simone says. “Everyone doesn’t need to do the dishes. I don’t mind doing them. It’ll give me time to think and to reflect on things. I had a wonderful day today. It’s no big deal.”
To Sherlock, Simone says; “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I can manage.”
Placing the dishes into her basket, Simone strolls away at an energetic pace. She hums as she walks, a faint smile on her lips. Crank watches her go with a great ache in his heart. His mate is not a rahvaa. Why does she insist on behaving like one?
-
-
Simone kneels beside the water pump outside the farmhouse. Half of the dishes are already washed and sitting on a large towel. The other dishes are still in the basket. Simone hauls them out one by one to wash them with a beige-colored dish rag. She is still humming softly when a hand touches her shoulder. Expecting to find Crank, she is surprised to see it is Paul Bunyan.
“Paul? Hi,” Simone says. “The stew was lovely. I enjoyed it. We should do this again.”
Simone is doubly surprised when Paul Bunyan kneels beside her on the parched dirt. He uses both hands to cup Simone’s face. Bringing his face down to hers, he kisses her deeply.
For a moment, Simone nearly relents. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips nearly draw apart, preparing to make way for Paul’s beckoning tongue. Flashes of her one and only human lover, Terrence, fill her mind.
How it felt when their lips touched. Warm moist skin against warm moist skin. How Terrence had teased her on their wedding night. Before pleasuring her in ways she’d never thought possible. How they’d made beautiful love, resulting in two beautiful young girls. How he’d later become a monster. Purposely causing pain to make her do as he asked. And then, there was Crank.
The not so finer points of human lovemaking cause Simone’s eyes to snap open. She shoves at Paul’s chest in a panic.
“What are you doing, Paul?!?” Simone cries, glancing around. “You just don’t get it do you?!? I love Crank! I’ve told you this!”
Paul grips Simone’s arms with his strong hands. He forces her to meet his gaze.
“You keep saying that!” Paul laments. “But what’s in it for you? There’s no guarantee we’re getting out of this place, Simone. Your spaceman...He can’t give you what you want. What you need. Your little girls. More children. We’re all we’ve got, Simone. You’re gonna have to face that fact!”
“No!” Simone cries and attempts to stand.
However, Paul Bunyan does not release her arms. For the first time, the burly frontiersman looks truly frightened; his skin a sickly pale.
Like an old film heiress, Simone considers smacking Paul across the face. A part of her knows that will be the wrong thing to do. Terrence was always the violent one in the relationship. Making demands with an iron fist. More than once, she has caught herself nearly mimicking his tyrannical behavior.
Hitting Paul will not make him see her side of the issue. Paul is hurting and he’s scared. Hell, she’s scared too. And fear can do funny things to people.
“Just look at the evidence, Simone,” Paul continues, still holding her in place by her arms. “Jane…Sherlock...They’ve been here for years. With nary a clue between them of where we are or how they got here. Years, Simone.”
“But they didn’t have Crank all of those years,” Simone counters. “We do.”
“Oh…Come on, Simone,” Paul drawls. “What’s your spaceman gonna do that we couldn’t?”
“He’ll figure out a way to get us out of here,” Simone says assuredly. “I know he will.”
Paul gently shakes Simone as if to wake her up.
“You treat this spaceman as if he’s a god!” Paul exclaims. “He’s not! He’s flesh and blood! Just like you and me. All of his knowledge…All of his technology…May not be able to save us, Simone. It may not be enough to save you…”
Paul releases Simone’s left arm and lightly strokes the side of her face.
“I haven’t felt anything like this in many years,” Paul says. “The last woman I ever loved…Was Jane. And she hated my guts, in the end. I never realized what I had. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”
Simone stares at Paul with pity in her eyes. Paul’s emotional pain, and the memory of Jane’s loss, seems to have aged him so much.
“I can’t hurt Crank, Paul,” Simone says sadly. “I love him. I wish you could understand that. I love him. And he loves me too. He makes me feel…He treats me better than anyone else ever has. With Crank, love isn’t some concept cooked up in an old book or some ancient text. He truly believes in it. And I believe in him.”
Paul peers at Simone with an expression of utter disbelief.
“Are you saying…You would choose Crank…Over your own kind?” Paul says.
“I’m saying…I already have,” Simone responds.
Paul takes a deep breath and removes his hand from Simone’s face. He considers kissing her one final time, but doesn’t wish to press his luck. She has made her decision. Simone tries to repair their shattered relationship, if only a little. After all, they may in fact be here indefinitely. Why be enemies forever?
“I know you’re hurting, Paul! Believe me…I do,” Simone says. “And I understand. But, you’ve got to give Jane a chance. She might come back. And then, maybe things can be different.”
Paul averts his eyes, staring toward the far horizon. His mouth droops as sadness takes over his countenance.
“No…She’s not coming back,” Paul says definitively.
“You can’t know that, Paul,” Simone insists. “She’s been coming to this place for years. Sherlock said so. Something probably held her up. A broken axle…A dead horse. Maybe she’s having trouble finding supplies. This place is weird, Paul. Things change all the time. That’s just your pain talking.”
Paul returns his moistened eyes to Simone’s face. A weak smile causes tiny creases to appear around his eyes.
“No. It’s my heart talking,” Paul says. “It’s as if a door has been shut on the world. I can feel it. I can’t feel her anymore.”
Simone opens her mouth to speak, but no words will come. Could what Paul is saying be true?