Mistakes, Fried Chicken and Unlucky Mermen

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Mistakes, Fried Chicken and Unlucky Mermen Page 7

by Rochelle Pearson


  Temporarily shutting him down, I can.

  Somehow, please, goddess, give me a window of opportunity. Give me more strength, the fuel tank containing what I have left is emptying.

  My wish is granted.

  But it went to the wrong person—

  Gavin dive bombed for my neck.

  “NOOO!” I scream. Piercing hot pain punctures the left side of it. I gather all I have and thrust forward, throwing him feet into the air. He lands, crumpled in the living room, taking down the coffee table during his descent.

  I don’t give him another chance to recover this time. I straddle his torso, hold his head and slam it hard on the wooden floor, cratering the panels.

  He goes out like a light with my blood dotted on his bottom lip. I wipe it off as he slips into unconsciousness.

  ***

  Gavin remained knocked out for an hour. I’d used depleting strength to carry him to my bed.

  There, I tipped his head up, mouth open. I poured blood from packets I keep on hand for him in the fridge, down his throat. Eventually, he took, swallowing every drop—emptying seventeen packets. I’d recleaned and dressed afterwards while I waited for him to come to.

  The shallow nick he’d created near my jugular, fully healed.

  Time passed and my room was partially dark, the blue light moon spotlighted the bed.

  I leaned against the window when Gavin finally opened his eyes. He blinked staring at the ceiling, not suddenly panicked over how he’d ended up on a bed—yeah, I know his dirty state is getting all over my pink pillows.

  But... choose your battles.

  Another slow blink later, he drops his face to the side, meeting my gaze and looking way too miserable.

  “Kokoa...?” Voice hoarse.

  “I’m fine, not that an asswad of a vampire like you would possibly care.”

  “Gods.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Nothing damaging, but my feelings are.” I cross to the bed, standing over him.

  Damn, he looked so lost... it hurt me even more. But I shove that aside and address everything that’s left me confused for the past twenty-four hours. Starting off—

  “Were you seriously going to force yourself on to me and drink me?”

  Gavin grimaces, sitting up against the pillows. He rakes his fingers through tousled black hair.

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “Oh, screw you. I have a right to know if you’d consciously rip my throat out—”

  “Don’t say that!” He roars. “I... I...” Defeat sags his body. “I’m sorry.”

  I gave us both a minute. Ruffling feathers, evoking upset feelings is not what I want to do. Yet, proceeding to handle what’s happened, why I left his mansion needs to be attended to—-dealing with situations as serious as these—though never truly happened before—sucks.

  It fucking sucks.

  Plain and simple.

  I’d gladly restart last week. In a heartbeat.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have a button specialized on a device that does so.

  “I purposely rejected blood.” He spoke first, smiling without his usual humor. It was a dead lip curl. “Emptied my whole damn body.”

  I couldn’t stop from squeezing my eyes shut. They prickled.

  Vampires, as they need to feed, can use their magic to expel however many last feedings—instantly, reversing the blood’s nourishment, the undead life they need, making each ounce evaporate inside their bodies and go starved.

  The more feedings they diminish, the hungrier they become.

  Deadly.

  Hearing him admit this, cuts a fresh slice in my heart.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think, Kokoa?” The question aimed at his joined hands on his lap.

  “Because I left.” My body drops beside him, exhausted. I don’t face him.

  “Yes.” The word is pained. “I was sick to my fucking stomach when I found out you’d gone.”

  “Who told you I left?” I felt his head shift in my direction.

  “No one did. No one needed to. I felt you leave. I felt you... enter that room.”

  I watch calmly at the pale hand hovering above my thigh. It doesn’t touch me.

  Earlier adrenaline finally fades, as does anger. I can let it go. I need to if I wanted to save this friendship.

  I really wanted to.

  Gently, as I can, I ask him directly why there were paintings of me pictured before we’d come to meet.

  “The truth,” he says, quietly.

  “Yes, please.” My head goes to the left, to watch him rub his tired face then to finally speak after a chunk of silence.

  “Three years ago, I returned to Grimstone from being in Paris for a decade. There, I was surrounded and deeply enthralled in art. Not just because of the family business. I was in my element, walking on the cobblestone streets. However, when my time there concluded, and I’d settled back here, happy to take a break from work, Grimstone wasn’t giving back like it used to. I was born here, my skills grew here, yet the island wasn’t providing that inspiration that started it all for me. For some time I drifted, trying to sketch this and that only to trash the scraps. Trying to bring myself to dip a brush in a fresh pot of paint. When nothing came out of it, I.... got low. Vampires who’d gone through so much, lived so damn long, they hit a phase of absolutely nothing, they sink into a depression. Like anyone else would after hitting a high and never ending wall.” Gavin stopped to bring himself closer. Automatically, I raised to cup his jaw, he clasped my wrist. His normal ruby eyes wavered in the path of mine. “I’ve lived too long wondering what the hell for... until I saw you. A little wolf with a big smile.”

  I gave him one.

  Beautifully, he returned it.

  “The first time was when I saw you lying on a picnic blanket at Mortis Park one morning. Out of all the wolves running about, you were the only one who stopped to stare up at the clouds. Feet bare. A licorice twist in your mouth. Care-free. Simply beautiful. It touched a part in me that had gone gray. That afternoon, I used every color to paint your image. I won’t apologize for seeking you out without your knowledge after that. A selfish part of me was happy to use you as a muse, to help bring back the drive. I began to get to know you even more. As an artist does with their subjects, however there’s still a sliver of disconnect. Because that’s all they are. An object. But getting to see your life, how you live it, who you spent it with, left me... addicted.”

  “Gavin.”

  Two fingers pressed my lips closed. An intense fire blazed in his crimson stare. “I needed to meet you. Not for more inspiration.” He snorts. “No, I wanted you, living, breathing in my life, instead of two-dimensional and made out of oils or pastels.”

  “It sounds like you got tired of hugging canvases all day.” I joke, lightly. He takes it and chuckles. “You were around that night...when I went to the gas station.”

  He nodded.

  It’s quiet after that.

  The hand once again appeared above my thigh. It closes over it this time.

  “Don’t send me away,” he whispers.

  “I’d never.” My response to that comment is sharp and clear enough for him to drill through his head. Flipping to the side, I hug him. Thankfully, he doesn’t hesitate to embrace me back.

  “My little Wolf.” His fingers graze through my hair.

  “My Vamp-Man... who now owes me a lifetime’s worth of burritos.” That goes for anyone who attacks and nearly sucks the blood from their friends.

  Not cool.

  “I figured as much.” Gavin groaned. “You’re never going to let this down, are you?”

  “Never in a billion, asscracking, years.” I kiss his cheek then pat it. “And I’m talkin’ grande cheese supremes with nachos on the side too.”

  What? I gotta add that in while the guilt is still hot.

  “What do we do now?” Gavin asks while linking our fingers.

  �
�First off, you need to bathe.” I wave a hand up and down his speckled dirt covered body. “Then being polite and the ever so charming you will change my bedding. Really, Gavin, you look like a ghoul refugee that has crawled through several rainforests.”

  Gavin quirked his mouth, apologetically. “I can do that.” Already he stood and began undressing, exposing the dozens of tattoos etched all over his torso, arms and neck.

  “Afterwards we sleep,” I say, however much I enjoyed his pale muscular ass. He grins wider at my obvious expression. Then he leans over, an arm above my head that rested against the pillow.

  “You say sleep. Where should I be?”

  “Beside me, of course.”

  “Of course.” He smiles broad enough to crinkle his eyes. That meant his fangs were on full display. I was okay with that. Gavin kissed my forehead and my cheek then the other before retreating into the bathroom. I stared at his bright white butt the whole time. I also relished the sense of peace that seeped into the atmosphere too.

  “Little Wolf,” he popped his head around the door, “about your sheets, the reek of Lucas. Why is that?”

  In reply; I buried my face into a pillow and snored loudly.

  ***

  The next morning, I awoke to light sun rays and the face of a goat. No, Gavin ain’t that ugly in the morning.

  Beside my head, Esmeralda chewed on a pillowcase. Sun highlighted multi brown hued fur.

  “There’s a goat in my bed.” My voice cracked. A quick blurry eyed survey around the room, I discovered an unexpected sight but then again, entirely fitting being that this cabin was home to nutcases and stomping grounds of puzzling freak shows.

  “Gavin, honey, who tied you to that chair?”

  In the doorway of my bathroom, Vamp Man mumbled something then glanced at the bedroom’s open door. His situation: he sat on a dining room chair, wrapped and tied a dozen times around with my many bright colored scarves. One covered his mouth. He looked as if a sale on accessories monster vomited all over him.

  Oh, not to mention he only wore a clean pair of boxers I gave him last night.

  I finger waved.

  “Mornin’ sunshine,” a voice said at the same time a bacon strip bounced off Gavin’s forehead, bemusing the vampire. Essie went after the falling greasy pork. Jonathan stood in the doorway holding balanced tray of food in one hand, the other dangling another weaponized bacon piece. Expression hostilely directed at Gavin, then softening when he turned to me.

  “Hi there kitty.” I smiled.

  “Baby.” He winked. “I made you breakfast,” he said laying the tray across my lap before taking the vacant spot on the bed. I fist pumped the air, eyes in a trance caused by jellied toast, glistening bacon, bright yellow scrambled eggs, fried ham, dark sausage links and succulent strawberry halves. The she-wolf whimpered and drooled.

  “Thank you, thank you.” I dug in, mouth stuffed, I took in Jonathan’s state–hair in a low ponytail, he wore jeans and a gray t-shirt. I wasn’t nearly as put together knowing my hair was no doubt fucked to the side. Tank top skewed.

  “You’re welcome.” He reclined. “You suffered a horrible ordeal last night. It’s the least I can do.” He said this while glaring at a very bored Gavin. Off the bat, I knew what he was talking about. However–

  “How do you know what happened?” I asked. Globs of jelly dripped on my cleavage and exposed belly. Gavin’s boxer lap suspiciously twitched. Again, Jonathan made for another bacon missile. I smacked the lion’s outstretched hand.

  “Don’t.”

  “The leech attacked you.” Jonathan seethed. “When I came by early this morning, I got screamed at by Piper about the damn goat and a broken coffee table and her telling me to get your ass up. Then I saw the trashed living room which I’ll have fixed for you later.” Gavin made a protesting noise. Jonathan continued loudly over him.

  “There was also the smell of your blood.” He flicked my knee. “You didn’t clean it entirely, babe. That’s when I dragged sucker face’s butt out of bed.”

  “Wait, wait how come I didn’t hear any of this?” I asked.

  Jonathan’s nose scrunched. “You snore.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing on the planet. Gavin nodded vigorously.

  Well, dang.

  “And then you tied him up?” I shoveled in eggs.

  “After I made him explain what the hell happened. Of course, I did my own assessment to make sure you were okay–”

  “Playing doctor with my unconscious body is creepy Jon.”

  Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I wanted to fight but he gave in. I guess it worked in my favor anyways. Doesn’t orange and pink bring out his eyes?” He smirked. The vampire growled and scooched the chair forward causing the legs to creek.

  “Get out of that already.” I told him no question he could and he did. Kkkrriiiiip, went the material.

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” he said once his mouth was freed. Essie tumbled in the mess. I was beginning to appreciate her carefree personality. Reminded me of myself and why I became in the middle of two guys on one mattress. One a bacon stealing lion and the other a semi-naked vampire who fashioned a half-assed turban out of shredded scarves.

  I told you this was la casa Freakshow.

  Conversation briefly touched what had happened. Gavin apologized more which I didn’t want anymore. I let it go and now demanded Jonathan to not press it. I like it when we resume being weird friends again.

  “All right all right, I’ll chill,” Jonathan said. “Besides I have this.” He took out his phone and produced a photo of Gavin, the colorful scarf charmer.

  “Your time will come, cat.” Gavin flashed fang, sure enough looking ridiculous with his scarf hat. “Just you wait.”

  I finished my breakfast and relaxed to their usual bickering. The norm. The pleasantly hilarious familiar. I was happy Gavin was feeling better and Jonathan now home again. The universe hummed Kumbaya once more. Until–

  Vzzzt. My phone buzzed beside Jonathan on the nightstand which he passed, not breaking from his monologue about Paisley basically being a rainbow rendition of magnified bacteria particles. Following, Gavin defended Paisley as a unique and intricate design that required respect and worked best in tones with dark red and purple.

  Jonathan in short said where Gavin can go stick a Paisley printed garment.

  Shaking my head, I read the new text. It was from Adrian.

  > Arianna invited me to Friday movie night at your place

  Oh.

  I glanced at Jonathan and Gavin.

  Ooooh.

  Jonathan hadn’t officially met Adrian yet. Hooking my arms around his and Gavin’s neck, I brought them in for a huddle.

  “I like where this is going.” Jonathan wiggled dark brows at my boobs.

  “Your hand smells like bacon,” Gavin says.

  “So good news. A plus one will be joining us–”

  “No, no, no, I haven’t had my Kokoa time yet,” Jonathan protested. “I forbid waiting any longer. For thirty damn days, I’ve been hard up–”

  “That’s not what meant!” I shoved the furry lug. Gavin swiped my phone, reading.

  “She’s talking about movie night, this Friday. Adrian is coming.”

  “Aah, the dragon.” Jonathan grinned, evilly. I wrinkled my nose at him rubbing his hands together, his golden irises glowed in challenge and his eye teeth protruded. “Excellent. I finally get to meet Mr. Fire-Breathing Swank and don’t you dare tell me to behave.” He pointed at me. “The second he arrives, I’ll have my words with him. I know you have your opinion,” he nodded to Gavin, “but you want in when I do?”

  Gavin mimicked his cheesy, hand rubbing display. “Hell yeah.”

  “What do you plan on talking about?” I cut in, getting a little nervous. What happened to Kumbaya universe? I didn’t mean for them to join forces to turn around and unleash fuckery on to Adrian.

  “Don’t worry about it, baby.” Jonathan smiled. A troublemaking toddler smile.
“Just guy stuff.”

  I dropped back and flopped Essie’s drool stained pillow on my face.

  Riiiiight.

  EPILOGUE

  A vampire, a lion and a dragon walk into a cabin and decide to make popcorn together.

  They were followed by several other supernatural beings to partake in a new tradition every Friday night...

  One night, when beers are passed. Where every couch surface is taken by a friend. Shared around the room are relaxed smiles and wistful sighs. There, in this sacred room is also where a goat feasts on the Princess Bride DVD.

  “Dammit, Esmeralda! We were gonna watch that!” Piper shouts at the goat.

  “BAAAAAAAHHH!!” the same small brown and cream animal screeches. Piper failed at trying to sell the goat to just about anybody. At one point, Piper offered to give it away for free plus fifty bucks to any lucky schmoe but no one wanted her... well, him.

  I can’t explain how we missed Esmeralda’s pink, baseball sized scrotums bouncing around. And Lucas’s insistence that they were udders ended up with him carrying a bruise the shape of a hoof print. Herb, the field troll, was either blind to Es’s hairy hanging fruit or he’s not one to get caught up in gender specific names.

  Anyway, I took pity and now, lil Es is part of the clan. We’d removed her 635 number tag but kept her name as is.

  “Thank Gods,” Lucas says, relieved and stands from his spot on the floor to find another movie from the shelf. “Let’s put on an action flick. Guns blazing and fast cars.”

  Heidi and I glance at Yasmin sitting closest to Lucas, waiting for the usual argument over should there be a vote for the movie but instead her mouth was smiling and her eyes were trained on his hindquarters.

 

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