Kelly Jo

by Linda Opdyke

  “You were going to turn me over to him, weren’t you, Jack?” she accused.

  “And why wouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I?” he demanded. “You’re lucky I didn’t grab you and spank you…your antics certainly earned it.”

  Kelly Jo looked bored, though she continued to hold her demure, cover-herself pose. “We can play spanking games later, Jack. Right now we need to head north.”

  “I don’t like this at all, Kelly Jo, and I’m already sorry I didn’t hand you to Robert.” He narrowed his eyes in warning. “Maybe I’ll just call him back and you can spend eternity falling off that rock by the stream.”

  Kelly Jo lifted her chin, but her smile was smug. “Go ahead.”

  Jack was furious. Boy, wouldn’t he love to toss this painting as far away from him as his arm could throw. “Don’t push your luck,” he advised flatly.

  “You know why you won’t?” she challenged. “Well, one of the reasons you won’t.”

  Jack sighed. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me even if I don’t want your opinion…which I don’t.”

  “You don’t know how to call Big Bob.”

  Jack raised the picture higher and stared at her. She was right, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m sure I can figure it out, or better yet, figure out how to get out of here…without you. Maybe it works the same way it did with Dorothy,” he added with a slight sulk. “Maybe if I click my heels together three times I’ll wake up in Kansas. That would be really nice.”

  Kelly Jo giggled. “With those feet? You’d blow up Kansas on the first click. And that wouldn’t be nice.”

  “You know what?” Jack told her, clearly annoyed. “I might not know how to call Robert back here, but I do know where to meet him.” Still holding the painting he walked back to the oak tree and propped it against the trunk. “Bye, Kelly Jo,” he said pleasantly and started walking.

  “Jack!” she called desperately. “I’m sorry. Come back. Please?”

  He stopped but stayed where he was when he asked, “Why should I?”

  Kelly Jo’s remorse vanished in a lilting laugh. “Because you don’t know which way is north. I do.”

  Jack strode back but stared down at her. “I can find it without too much difficulty and you know it.”

  Kelly Jo lowered her head, her long curls moving even further down her body. When she looked up, tears glistened in her eyes and her voice was soft. “I don’t know how to make a serious apology, Jack, because I never learned how. But I need you. And whether you believe it or not, and even whether you like it or not, you need me. Can we put aside our differences just long enough to get to Covey’s Creek? Big Bob will be there waiting and this whole thing will be over.”

  Jack studied her face. It wasn’t the first time she’d been convincingly sympathetic, had tugged his heart into doing something he almost immediately regretted. “No tricks?”

  Relief flooded the summer-sky blue eyes. “Promise.”

  “Can you get out of that picture?”

  She shook her head. “I used the last of my power to create it. I know there’s a way to get out again, but I’m going to have to find it. In the meantime you’ll have to carry me.”

  “Uh huh,” Jack said thoughtfully. “And if a cop asks me what I’m doing concealing a naked woman under my shirt…I’m not keen on getting arrested.”

  Kelly Jo laughed and Jack ignored the natural sparkle she gave off. This was no time to think there was anything likeable about her.

  “First, as of now, no one but me can see you. Second, so what?”

  Jack frowned. “As of now? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

  “Big Bob told you that within twenty four hours I���d again be entirely in human form. So will you.”

  Jack shook his head, relieved. “Great. Then I can just take off.”

  “Uh…no. Doesn’t work that way. You’ll be in human form only until this event has completed. Besides, you’re not yet Jack Thomas McKetrick, son of Cynthia and Morgan, and decades away from creating your ‘J.T.’ music persona - a seriously lame pro name, by the way. It’s years before your time and you’d have nowhere to go anyway, even if you did take off, which you can’t.”

  “I get the picture,” he snapped.

  “We need to go, Jack,” she added softly. “Even if you’ve turned your back on me now, I have to get to Covey’s Creek.”

  “Turned my back on you? Do you have any idea what I just risked by hiding you from Robert?” he demanded.

  Kelly Jo waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, pooh…you risked no more than I did. Now, pick me up and let’s find a house with a little girl’s clothing hanging on the line.”

  Irate, Jack wanted to shake the painting, wanted to shake the self-centeredness out of Kelly Jo. “Risked no more than you did? You killed me and kidnapped me to serve your own selfish purpose,” he informed her.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “and you can thank or spank me later, whichever gives you the most pleasure. But for now…”

  “Kelly Jo,” he warned between gritted teeth, hoping she got the message that he’d reached the end of his patience with her.

  “Let’s go, Jack,” she urged. “We have to find that house.”

  “I’m not stealing a little girl’s clothing for you,” he said flatly. “I’m not stealing anything…for you or for anyone else.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said haughtily. “I would never ask you to steal something. But we need to find a house where at least one little girl lives. Chances are good she would own a Barbie. Then you need to break in and get me some Barbie clothes to wear.”

  Chapter Seven

  In less than half an hour of walking the countryside, Jack’s feet hurt. His fingers and hand was stiff from holding the painting and even shifting hands with it didn’t help for long. He ignored Kelly Jo’s suggestion of finding something to tie the painting around his neck.

  Oh, yeah, that’s just what he needed: a miniature naked woman bumping around on his back or on his chest. Especially one he guaranteed would complain nonstop about either his stride was too long, he walked too slow, did he have to step over those potholes and badly jar her while he did it? Noooo thanks.

  “Just a little further,” Kelly Jo advised. “If I remember correctly, there’s three houses on this dirt road. They’re about a quarter mile apart and I’m not sure which one had a little girl, but…well, however long it takes, it takes.”

  Jack stopped and glared at Kelly Jo. “However long it takes, it takes? How very generous of you, since you’re not the one doing the walking.”

  “Don’t be such a baby, Jack,” she chided. “This isn’t easy for me either, you know. I never know if you’re watching where you’re walking or if I’m about to be bumped so hard I’ll knock against your knuckles again.” She grimaced. “That did hurt, by the way…a lot.”

  “That was your own fault,” he informed her. “I told you to sit still, but you’re so worried about your hair not covering what it should that you weren’t paying attention.” Even though it was her own doing he asked, “No bruises, I gather?”

  “I don’t think so,” she answered, “but I won’t know for sure until we stop and I can check them out.”

  Jack grinned, well aware of the ‘them’ that had landed on his knuckles when Kelly Jo pitched forward.

  Her dark look to his grin said she knew that he knew. And that she didn’t like it one bit. His grin broadened, but he said nothing.

  “There,” she said, pointing through a copse of trees. “I can see a clothesline. I think the house is further back.”

  Jack grunted. “Think we’ll get lucky and today was Barbie clothes washing day?”

  Kelly Jo ignored him and lowered her voice as Jack moved to where they could see the clothesline in a large clearing. He couldn’t believe the luck. Little girl’s clothing flapped in the afternoon sunshine.

  Jack glanced down at her. “Now what?” He nodded away from the clothesline. “The house i
s about twenty yards that way and there’s no vehicle in the driveway so I’m guessing no one’s home. Should we just sneak in and you can make yourself at home rummaging through the dollhouse?”

  “Very funny,” she told him. She looked at the ground, then at Jack, started to speak and then stopped, shock covering her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Look down,” she stated.

  He did. Then looked at her. “What?”

  “Your footprints.”

  Jack looked again. Sure enough, his sneakered footprints were a clear path from the dirt road through the trees to where they now stood.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded. Then it hit him. “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” Kelly Jo said dejectedly. “Oh. Robert fast-tracked you to becoming human.”

  “Well,” Jack said thoughtfully. “How do we find out if you are? Maybe you can just run around inside that painting and see if you leave footprints.”

  Kelly Jo sighed and Jack saw her thoughts racing through her eyes.

  “Or,” he suggested. “Maybe you could just sit down and see if you leave…”

  “Hush,” she ordered, but Jack saw her blush clear to the roots of her golden curls. “I’ll think of something.”

  Jack waited, and finally Kelly Jo shrugged. “I’m drawing a complete blank. This metamorphosis happened way too fast.” She sighed. “You’ll have to go alone, Jack.”

  Startled, Jack asked, “To Covey’s Creek?”

  She shot him a look like he was dense. “No. Into the house.”

  “What?”

  “It’s going to be hard enough for you to get inside now that humans can see you, Jack. What if you’re wrong and someone is home? Carrying a painting makes you conspicuous. We can’t chance it.”

  Jack stared at her. “Carrying a painting makes me conspicuous…but barging into their house to hunt down Barbie clothes doesn’t?”

  “I would only slow you down.”

  Exasperated, Jack demanded, “Can’t you just stay naked?”

  “No,” she said curtly. “Now, put me down over there and hurry up. This isn’t very comfortable, in case you weren’t aware.”

  “Oh, brother,” Jack muttered, but propped the painting against the bottom of the tree.

  “And be quick,” she advised.

  Jack moved carefully through the trees, around the clothesline and toward the house. His brain refused to admit what he was doing.

  He used stealthy steps to peek into the side windows and then the front corner windows. There was no sign of activity in the house, no sign anyone was home.

  He went onto the porch prepared to struggle with the wide window, but to his amazement it slid open. He briefly closed, then opened his eyes, still disbelieving the act of Barbie-theft he was about to commit. If he could find Barbie clothes, that is. Jack stepped inside the living room and listened.

  No sound.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and headed across the room to the hallway, looking for the staircase to the second floor. Found it. Just as he reached it and hurried up the first four steps, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, a warning he was being watched. He spun.

  At the other end of the hallway, in the kitchen doorway stood the biggest, blackest dog he’d ever seen. His low growl reached Jack’s ears.

  Jack eased his way back down the steps, repeatedly crooning, “Nice puppy,” until he’d reached the bottom.

  The growl grew louder and finally the dog made a beeline for him.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” Jack cried, racing down the hallway in the opposite direction and jerking the unlocked front door open. He did a broad jump from the porch to the yard, the barking dog hot on his heels.

  Chapter Eight

  Jack’s long stride came in very handy. It gave him only a short head start on the huge animal protecting his family’s home, but it enabled him to gain a small lead when he leaped from the porch to the ground and the dog hesitated just long enough to maneuver down the steep porch steps.

  Jack tore across the yard in record time, swatted his way around and through the clothesline and made a direct line for where he’d left Kelly Jo.

  Panting and dragging for air in his lungs, Jack was keenly aware the dog was now close to nipping his heels. Or ripping them off. Just as the animal emitted a lethal roar and lunged, so did Jack. For the low-hanging tree branch. Clumsily, and almost completely breathless, Jack swung himself over the top and sat on the branch, his feet dangling just high enough to further tick off the irate dog.

  Jack couldn’t even wheeze out a warning to Kelly Jo.

  Wait. Warn her about what?

  He closed his eyes in intense irritation. Once again, thanks to Kelly Jo and her bright ideas the risk was all his. He opened his eyes and confirmed it. The dog ran in wide circles beneath Jack’s branch, his threatening bark devolving into a growl when he stopped and stared up at Jack.

  Jack lowered his head, gulping air and making go home gestures at the dog. Finally he’d drawn a normal enough breath to holler, “Go home!”

  The dog sat down, still staring, still growling.

  To Jack’s displeasure, he heard a distinct giggle.

  Kelly Jo stopped giggling long enough to advise Jack, “Most watchdogs won’t go home if they think you’re still a threat to them or their home.”

  “This was one great idea, Kelly Jo,” Jack said curtly. “You never mentioned a dog in the house.”

  “I didn’t know,” she said calmly. “My interest was in did they have a child who might own a Barbie. It’s not my fault you didn’t check first.”

  Jack’s eyebrows raised as the dog’s ears went on alert.

  The dog had heard Kelly Jo.

  “Kelly Jo,” Jack said softly. “Don’t talk. The dog picked up the sound.”

  Kelly Jo remained silent. So did Jack.

  To Jack’s chagrin, the dog laid down beneath the tree branch to watch him. Now what? He knew he couldn’t move, couldn’t talk or he’d incite the dog all over again.

  Jack and Kelly Jo had no choice but to wait. Quietly.

  Half an hour later the dog tired of watching Jack and rose to his feet.

  Jack heaved a sigh of relief as the dog began to wander off, but he knew not to climb down until the dog was either well on his way home or had reached it.

  “Is he gone?” Kelly Jo whispered.

  The dog’s ears picked up again and he returned, this time to stare at the painting.

  Jack’s heart thumped. Was there anything this dog could do to Kelly Jo? Was she able to control her fright and remain still? He held his breath, hoping she realized just how unmoving she needed to be.

  The huge black dog sniffed the painting, then circled the tree and came back to his original spot at the painting…and lifted his leg.

  Chapter Nine

  Kelly Jo’s shriek sent the dog jumping backward in panic.

  Jack roared so hard with laughter he nearly fell from the tree, clutching hold at the last second, straddling the limb and hanging on for dear life, letting the tears roll down his face as his loud, unchecked laughter hit the air.

  Kelly Jo’s second shriek of indignation sent the dog racing for home, yelping in fright.

  Jack’s laughter continued unabated and though he tried to carefully throw one leg free and to jump down, he failed. He hung in the air, right leg dangling, his left leg and both arms still wrapped around the thick limb as he slowly, involuntarily, slid over the side. His stomach hurt from laughing so hard but he couldn’t stop, his mind kept replaying the moment.

  This payback was the greatest, most appreciated thing he’d ever seen.

  Finally the pull of his weight was too much and his arms and left leg followed the path of his right leg, pulled loose from the limb and Jack fell to the ground.

  Still roaring with laughter.

  “This isn’t funny!” Kelly Jo wailed in distress. “Look at what he did to me!”

  Jack rolled over onto his sto
mach, still blubbering with mirth and belly-crawled the short distance to where Kelly Jo, both the frame and the person drenched, stared at him in shock. “You’re wrong,” he informed her. “This is definitely funny,” Jack choked out between spurts of laughs.

  “Help me!” she cried. “I’m…I’m…wet!”

  “Oh…oh, yes, you certainly are,” Jack managed to get out, not a shred of sympathy in his voice as his gaze rested on the thoroughly soaked naked woman. The cascade of golden curls were now a mass of ringlets flat on her head and down her body. Kelly Jo grimaced as her fingers only tentatively held the ringlets over what she needed covered.

  Still prone, Jack put his hands on the ground in front of him and rested his chin on them, wrinkled his nose and made a face, but his tone remained one of sheer bliss. “You also have one God-awful awful stink to you.”

  “You have to wash me,” she said flatly. “Right now. I can’t believe you let this happen to me.”

  Jack shook his head, still grinning. “I’m not washing you,” he told her. “I���ll get you some wet leaves or something, but…” he stopped and stared back at her. “What do you mean I let this happen to you? If you had kept quiet like I told you…”

  “Go get the leaves,” she ordered, then added hastily, “Oh, never mind. There’s a creek not too far from here. Take me over there and I’ll see what’s handy for a bath. You can gather things…”

  Jack threw his head back and laughed. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m touching that frame, let alone carting it around.”

  “This is all your fault,” she seethed. “The least you can do is try to be helpful, try to find a way…”

  “I am not touching that painting,” he repeated. “Think of something else.”

  Kelly Jo’s blue eyes had turned to clouds of battle, but Jack grinned as various thoughts raced through those clouds.

  “What if,” she began, “you put dirt on the frame. Will you touch it then and carry me to the creek?” Sarcasm colored her added, “Or will that still be too much for your delicate hands to endure?”