Sis amplexibus Amor alios mututa memini et amoris in mutationes memini.
May you be embraced by a love beyond recall that alters others
and a love within recall that alters you.
Frances woke feeling better than she could remember ever having felt. Here she was in Calgary. Living her own life. Whatever happened Saturday had changed her. Freed her from what seemed to be the only logical conclusion to her life. When she got on that plane, sitting next to her was Sally Davis on her way back to Calgary after mother’s funeral. Sally worked at at the Red River Bistro and got her a job there as one of the girls had left to back to university. On top of which Sally, rented a mobile home with the girl who left and now Frances could take her place. Sally claimed that it was if it was meant to be. It was so smooth, almost ordained Frances had to agree.
Now all she had to do was let David know. The thought of talking to him gave her chills. She could imagine the break in his voice when after she’d tell him she wasn’t coming back to him, or his mother, ever. No, she couldn’t tell him that. She’d let him jump to the conclusion that it was his mother’s fault then maybe he would start to cut the apron strings.
Standing on the balcony wasn’t clearing his head. Seven a.m. and the city air was thick with stink and humidity. Heat waves were distorting the view. Harris padded back into his apartment, shut the balcony door, pulled the curtains closed, nudged his air conditioner another degree cooler.
How had he put up with the heat in Aruba? Right, there he could go down to Andicuri Beach, there he didn’t have nut case boyfriends out to kill him, there he didn’t even have to make his own bed, there his ribs didn’t ache like he’d been kicked by a horse.
His ribs throbbed, his head was fuzzy from the shot they had given him the hospital yesterday, his nose and the backs of his hands were itchy. The itch was a side effect of the pain killer. They knocked him out so he didn’t mind. When he woke during the night he taken another one and it numbed him back to sleep.
The ache in his ribs was bad but he didn’t want to pass out again. He texted Tavi that he wouldn’t be in to work again today. Coffee was perking in the kitchen. Coffee he hoped would give him more clarity.
The bandage pulled at his skin but he was to leave it on for as long as possible. He rubbed a smidgen of sun block near to the edge to see if that would sooth the skin. It didn’t.
The coffee helped. The darkness helped too. Here he wouldn’t have to be worry about the outside world, about who might fall into the aura of his curse next. Safe. It wasn’t safe. Too many strangers. He was safe here. With his luck he’d been spotted already when he was on the balcony and a love-struck woman was climbing up the side of the building to get to him.
A female Queen Kong. Her giant hairy palm would reach through the balcony and tuck him between her huge hairy breasts to carry him up to the top of the Plaza, swing from building to building till she was finally on the top of the CN tower. Traffic planes would swarm around her while she’d hold him in one palm and with her red-painted paw nails would delicately tear his clothing from him. She’d smile coyly at his revealed pink nakedness. She’d lick his balls and cock with her giant soft wet warm tongue and eagerly swallow the biggest load of come he’d ever shot.
He woke with a start to his cell beeping. It was a text from Tavi.
“Get better fast. I’m sending a file to you.”
Sending a file meant she expected him to work from there. He walked over to his computer, looked at it, took a pain killer and went back to bed. Fuzzy was the best alternative to work.
It was nearly three in the afternoon when he woke again. He didn’t feel refreshed or rested. Washroom and then to the kitchen for food to satisfy his grumbling stomach. Half a bag of double fudge almond butter cookies and he felt more human.
The wedding invitation and the note that had been stuck on his door were on the kitchen counter where had left them. He had to tell the police about these but why bother. Later. That could wait till later.
There were several texts and voice mail on his cell. He deleted all the ones from Tavi while his lap top booted up. He looked at the file she had sent. He didn’t have the program needed to do the work that needed to be done. He could download the program too but after leaning over the keyboard for ten minutes his ribs began to throb.
He texted Tavi that his computer didn’t have the capacity to work on the file she sent. Nor did his brain.
There was voice mail from his Dad, his mother and from Trevor – all wanting to know how he was.
He opened a bottle of kiwi-lime infused pineapple juice and called his mother first.
“Hi Mom. It’s Harris.”
“Harris! My God you sound like …. Tom Waits. Your Dad told me what happened. I can’t image you getting into a fight like that. What are the police doing about that nut case.”
“I don’t know.” Talking hurt. “I’ll call them in the morning if I’m feeling up to it. I called to tell you not to worry.”
“Okay. I won’t keep you. I’ll tell Dad you called. Your voice will get back to normal, won’t it?”
“This one isn’t all that bad is it?” He laughed. “See you Sunday, if my wounds allow. Bye.”
The conversation drained him. He was sweating and itchy. Trevor could wait.
He went the fridge and ate a package of ham slices and followed that with his favorite processed cheese slices. Ever since he was a kid he loved the smooth feel of the slices. Food without texture.
He changed into a clean Promethea tee-shirt and plain boxers, took another pain killer and stretched out on the couch.
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