by JaqWyn

“I don’t give a rat’s -" Suze held the phone away from her ear and put it close to Max’s. Even though the dog was old, her ears perked up at the voice she recognized from her puppy days.

“Are you listening to me?” the voice hollered.

“Maxine was. I’m not, but you got the dog’s attention.”

“We are not even mildly amused,” Carol said. “Bob and I are coming up there this weekend. We are going to talk some sense into you.”

“You have to catch me first,” Suze kept stirring the sauce on the stove. She was used to Carol’s tirades. It’s been two years, she’d say. It’s time, she’d say. You need a man and so on and so on.

“What about Bob? I suppose you don’t care at all about him or the clinic.”

Carol always pulled the guilt trip on her when the screaming methods didn’t work.

“I care. I care. I just don’t know that I’m ready to set a date yet.” Max watched the spoon moving it’s circle in the pot. She was praying for a drop of spaghetti sauce to come her way. “You’ll lose him if you’re not careful.”

“So be it. Like I said, I don’t give a rat’s ass. Maybe someday I will and when that day comes, look out.” She dipped her finger in the sauce and gave Max her wish. “We’ll have a huge wedding and invite all your outlaw friends.”

A long and pregnant silence.

“Okay - for this weekend. But next weekend, your ass is mine - rat or no rat.”

“Yes, Sister Dearest. Now, get off the phone.”

Suze pushed the Off button and looked to Max for her opinion of the sauce. Max swept her tail on the linoleum, back and forth, flicking crumbs under the refrigerator.

“Glad you like it. About the noodles. Shall we go al dente or the usual - al sticky?”

The two pals ate their pasta, scratched behind their ears and read the newspaper - each according to their own ability. Suze flicked on the 11:00 news while Max rechecked the kitchen for stray specks of anything food related.

The lead story was a double copkilling in Utah. Miles away, where she stood in a two bedroom bungalow in the tiny hamlet of Milford, Maine, Suze closed her eyes against the memory.

She shook it off and said, “Max, we’re going camping. Just like the good ol’ days.”

The cabin was in good shape. A little dusty, perhaps, and a raccoon had found the potatoes in the wooden bin but that was about it. Maxine trotted a few laps around the outside and decided all was well then sat down on the porch steps and waited while Suze unpacked the groceries.

“So what do you think? Let’s do some exploring.” Max absolutely agreed with that.

Suze automatically reached for the hunting rifle, stuffed a box of shells in her jacket pocket and the two started up the hill south of the cabin.

The Maine woods were especially beautiful in the fall. In a week or two, they would take on that Stephen King quality, bare-boned tree limbs, ominous forms peering out through winter fog banks but to Suze and Max, these were familiar shapes. Not scary at all.

Max trotted in the lead, sometimes with her nose to the wind, sometimes burying it in the carpet of leaves and pine needles along their usual route. Always, her tail waving like a Fourth of July flag.

She spooked a rabbit here and there and would stand point, hoping this time Suze would take a shot but she never did. Max wondered why she bothered to carry the gun.

”Max, I promise, you turn up a bear, and I will shoot.” So Max moved on.

They came to the place in the woods about two miles from the cabin that formed a natural fork. To the left, the ground sloped down for a quarter-mile until it fell into a stream on its way to the Penobscot River. The right angle of the fork led up to a crest that gave a postcard view of a valley circled by mountains, ever green with huge pine trees.

“You pick,” Suze said.

Max hung a right.

“Sure. Uphill. Thanks a lot.” Max ignored her complaints and loped easily through the brush.

At the top of the hill, Max stopped, sniffed and barked once then trotted off, out of Suze’s view. “Wait up!” Suze called out, puffing and panting her way up the hill. “Boy, am I out of shape.”

Max ran back to her, wagging her tail and grinning from ear to ear. She had something to show her favorite person and she wanted her to hurry.

“Uh oh, have the Bailey boys been up to something again?” Suze knew this was their territory, which they didn’t mind sharing with locals - but foreigners, beware.

Max ran circles around her as Suze picked and pulled her way up the slope. She could see that the Bailey boys had, indeed, been up to their old tricks and had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. She took a deep breath and walked on trying to get a look of real concern on her face.

“Hi, there,” she said.

Max was licking the man’s face and burying her nose in his ear. He turned his head to see who was talking to him but all he could see was her feet. Out of courtesy, Suze laid down on the ground next to him.

“I see you’ve met the Bailey boys,” she said. Laying flat on her stomach, a leaf poked her lip. She pulled it away.

“I am freezing my ass off,” he pointed out.

“Yes, I can see that,” she said, but that was as far as she got. Suze rolled over on her back and howled with laughter. This made Max delirious with joy. It had been sometime since her mistress had laughed that hard and she loved the sound it made. “Oh, I am sorry but every time I come across someone who has met the Bailey boys - really, I never get used to it.”

He was tied to four iron rings that were planted in cement squares on the side of the hill. Of course, he was buck naked - a Bailey trademark - face down in the dirt.

“You are planning on getting me out of this?”

Suze dried her eyes on her jacket sleeve. “Well, there’s a game I’ll have to play first but I’m sure we can get this taken care of in a half-hour or so.”

She sat up beside him. Dry-eyed now, she noticed that he had a beautiful body.

“What game are you talking about?”

“It goes like this. The Bailey boys stumble across a foreigner - someone from “away” - they strip them naked, stake them down like they learned from their Indian forefathers then they go away for a bit.” She laid down on her side and got comfortable. “Sooner or later, someone like me comes along and finds someone like you, all trussed up like a Christmas goose. Then that someone - me - goes to their cabin and leaves something for them - the Baileys. It can be anything really. A trade. After the trade, I come back. And you’re mine. Simple, really.”

Max laid down by his feet and started gnawing on the ropes at his ankles like a chew toy. Her tail sent up a swirl of dried leaves.

“So because I’m a Spaniard, I have to suffer like this at the hands of these backwoods baboons?”

“Oh no. Spain has nothing to do with it. A foreigner is anyone born more than ten miles from this place. I ran across a couple from Ohio, in your predicament, once.” She looked down his body to his feet. “Max, stop that.”

“Can you hurry and make the trade so I can get out of here?”

“Say, Please.”

“You’re having a really good time, aren’t you?”

“I have to admit that I am.”

He glared at her as best he could given the fact he couldn’t turn his head very far. “What are you - a voyeur?”

“No. I’m a nurse-"

“Then what are you staring at? You must see naked bodies all the time.”

“-for a gynecologist.” She laughed again and stood up. “Okay. I won’t torment you anymore but-“

“But what?”

“Before I barter for your freedom, I’ve got to ask about these bullet wounds.” Suze bent over him and pressed her finger on each scar. “One, two, three, fo-, oops, that one’s a knife wound - four.” She stood straight and scratched her head. “If you’re wanted anywhere-"

“I’m not. I’ve got no record. No warrants. No nothing. Shit!” He jerked his hips to the left. “Will you tell your dog to sniff somewhere else!”

“Maxine. Where are your manners?”

Max lifted her head from between his legs and woofed.

“You’d better be telling me the truth.” Suze poked him with the barrel of the gun.

“Look. I’m like a bounty hunter. I get paid to get the bad guys. Could you just get on with it and I’ll give you the details when you get back.”

Suze squatted down by his head. She combed his hair out of his eyes and cleared a handful of twigs away from his face. His eyes were as rich as the soil his cheek was resting on.

“Okay. But then I need you to do something for me.”

“You got bad guys that you want taken care of?”

“No, nothing like that. But I do have some wood that needs chopped, some window sills that need shored up for the winter. Have you ever done that kind of work?”

He thought for a minute. “No.”

“You’ll learn.” She pulled the box of shells from her pocket. It was full but she took out two rounds and chambered them in the rifle. “Or else.” She closed the gun with a snap. “I’m kidding. That was a joke. You know, laughter.”

“Ha.”

Suze had the feeling that he really didn’t mean it. “Max, stay.”

The dog laid down at his side and rested her head on his butt.

“How much was I worth?” he asked, while she sawed the ropes off his ankles.

“A box of shells,” she said.

“That’s all?”

“They weren’t home so I just put the box on the kitchen table and left.” She took her time with his hands. The knife was old and dull and she didn’t want to hurt him.

“I hope you left them a nice thank you note.”

“They can’t read. But they’ll get the message: one foreigner equals one box of shells.”

The last of the rope fell away. He rolled over slowly. His entire body ached with cold. While he rubbed his chaffed wrists and ankles, Suze checked him out thoroughly - without one professional, nurse-like thought in her brain.

She offered her hand to help him up but he was disgruntled and refused it. “My clothes?”

“Oh, they burned your clothes. They always burn the clothes.” She took off her jacket, one sleeve at a time, keeping one hand always on the rifle. “Here.” She handed him the coat.

“Just stay on the path and your feet will be fine. It’s as thick as a carpet.”

Max tried to stick her nose under the front flap of the jacket. “Don’t even think about it,” he said, pulling it tight around his body. “Does she work for a gynecologist, too?”

“See, Max,” she said, “he does have a sense of humor after all.”

“Whose are these?” He looked at the pile of clothes she set on the bed while he waited for the water in the tub to cool a bit.

“My husband’s.”

“Why don’t you make him chop the wood?”

“Well, I’m sure he’d love to but he’s dead. So he can’t.”

That threw him for a minute. “I’m sorry for you. And him.” He was unaccustomed to a woman like this. To a situation like this. It was awkward. “What happened to him?”

“Someone like you - perhaps. A bad guy. A bad guy with a gun.” She ran her hand over her husband’s shirt, folded on the bed, that would soon hang on the back of another man. “He was a cop.”

He wanted this conversation to end. He dipped his toe in the bath water. The temperature was just below boiling. “This is perfect.” He began to drop the towel but she didn’t leave. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My mind drifted. Sure. Max and I will be in the kitchen.”

Suze turned at the sound of a log hitting the fire. It sent fireworks up the chimney. He stood there in stocking feet and blue jeans. The flannel shirt hung open against his body as he combed his fingers through his long black hair. It was starting to curl as it dried.

“Whatever you’re making sure smells good,” he said, looking at her across the room.

“Hot chicken soup, biscuits and - are you ready for some coffee?”

Max trotted over to him and snuffled his hand. “That sounds great.” He walked to the front porch door and opened it into the night. “I didn’t know there were so many stars.”

She filled a mug and carried it to him. “Away from city lights, the stars really get a chance to strut their stuff,” she said, handing him the coffee.

He leaned against the doorway and blew some of the heat away. “What would have happened if you hadn’t come along today?”

Suze leaned, too, against the other side of the doorway. Max squeezed in between them. “Oh, they would have let you go in the morning. They’re not dangerous. Just a little-"

“Crazy?”

She laughed. “A little.”

He sipped the coffee and watched the night envelop them. “I’m not much good at this.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“How long?” He pulled at the shirt he was wearing.

“Two years.”

“Any men in your life now?”

She looked at him sideways. “Two. Why?”

“That’s good. That’s good. You’re too attractive not to-"

A sizzle came from the stove. “Soup’s done. Let’s eat,” she said.

Suze tossed and turned that night in her bed.

He slept on and off, in snippets, on the couch.

Max’s paws trembled as she chased the rabbits in her dreams that her mistress would never harm.

“Good work, for a bounty hunter,” she said.

He had an impressive pile of split wood stacked on the porch. Uneven logs at the bottom, the first ones, then neat rows further up as his skill with the ax improved.

His hands were blistered. He showed her his used-to-be manicure. “I look like a farm hand.”

“And a mighty fine lookin’ one, at that,” she said. It was supposed to be light-hearted, offhand but a stone cold truth like that was not easily disguised. “Wash up. Let’s go.” She held up a hamper. It was lunch time.

In October in Maine, there is a rule. One day of that amber and golden month is a perfect day. The sun warms the air like spring, the wind does nothing more than nudge the brilliant leaves. And the sky is the blue of a baby’s eyes.

This was not that day.

They sat next to the little stream, barely able to hold their sandwiches. The wind had turned raw and their hands shook with the cold. His nose was running, Max’s nose was running and Suze was having an allergic reaction to pollen. Her eyes were red and runny and his streamed with tears from the cutting wind.

He looked at her. She looked at him. And they lost it. They were the funniest thing each other had ever seen. Max niggled at an itch on her tail.

“Come here,” he said. Suze scootched next to him and he wrapped them both in the blanket they were using as a picnic table over the leaves. Max wanted in, too.

“No, girl. Go find a stick. Go on.” Suze watched Max bound into the woods. When she turned her face back, his was right there, waiting for her.

He kissed her eyes and soothed away the tears with his thumbs. His fingers traced the outline of her jaw as he lifted her mouth to his.

She put her legs around his hips as they sat there on the ground and pulled into him as close as she could. She put her hands inside his coat and pushed it back off his shoulders. Her mouth opened to drink him in while her hands pulled his shirt out of his infuriatingly tight jeans.

Suze pushed him away. “Lay back.” She was irritated.

“What’s wrong.”

“I. Want. This. Off.” With each word she tugged and pulled at his shirt.

“Give me minute. I’ll get it. I’ll get it.” He leaned back and unbuttoned his shirt for her.

“Now this,” she pointed at his belt buckle. Suze didn’t know where to start. This might take a while. While he unbuckled his belt and unzipped the jeans, she decided that waiting was folly. She knocked him flat on his back and got busy.

The hair. Fistfuls of that glorious hair. “Look at me,” she said. He looked her straight in the eye. He started to say something. “Shh! I’m concentrating,” she said. Suze wanted those eyes burned into her subconscious. And the lashes. Dark and long. The combination made her mouth water.

She covered his with hers, never letting go of his hair. He made deep sounds at the back of his throat. She tried to reach them with her tongue. Her hands relinquished his hair but moved to his chest in search of his nipples. When they hit pay dirt, her mouth followed.

She was ravenous. Her mouth licked and chewed and swallowed every square inch of his chest. His nipples glistened. The dark hair on his belly turned to ringlets in her mouth. She sat up and pulled his jeans down slowly over his hips. His erection was a beacon and his ship was about to come in.

Her tongue moved in long, languid waves over him. He wrapped his hands in her hair as her head moved rhythmically up and down and up again. “Wait. Wait,” he said.

“Later,” she said. She rocked back on her heels to watch what she was doing to him with her hand. He gave up and laid back and let her do what she wanted. Her hand held him and pulled at him. She gripped him hard, soft, fast, slow. The glorious eyes shut as his back arched under her control.

When it was time, she lowered her mouth to him once again and urged him on. His hands grabbed her shoulders like steel vices. Her tongue could feel the surge begin. As it came, she laid on her side and pressed his hips against her to get every drop.

Neither one of them spoke for a while. His eyes opened slightly to look at her. “I should’ve taken up farming a long time ago.”

Dinner was going to be a feast. They would do steaks outside on the grill, potatoes in foil in the fireplace. Buckets of butter, tumblers of wine. All of which had to be fetched at the store.

“We won’t be gone long,” Suze said as she and Max climbed into the truck.

He stood on the running board and leaned in. “Don’t be,” he said. He kissed her on the mouth and Max joined right in. “Okay. Okay. Get going,” he said wiping Max’s salutations off with the sleeve of his shirt.

The truck bumbled away down an invisible path to the dirt road that eventually led onto a two-lane blacktop. He watched until it was out of sight then went looking for the grill she had told him about.

The shed behind the cabin was what he had pictured. A canoe tied to crossbeams on the ceiling, rusted tools propped against sagging walls. Remnants of unfinished projects: a birdhouse, a picnic table almost done. In the corner, a well-used grill. He battled it out from under some cans, a few ropes and a bird’s nest and lugged it to the porch.

He filled it with charcoal. A few saturations with lighter fluid got it going at the same moment the tea kettle on the stove began to whistle. When the flames died off, he answered the kettle’s call and carried it to the bathtub.

He pulled off his clothes and tossed them on the bed. It was such a simple and normal thing to do. The image in the mirror was almost unrecognizable to him. His hair was tousled with a few leaves clinging to it here and there. His face was ruddy from working outside all day. His beard was coming in but he’d take care of that tomorrow. Or the day after, he thought.

He slipped into the tub and let the warm water soak into his bones. His mind recalled the afternoon pleasures and a symptom began to present itself with the recollection.

Tonight he would show her the same amount of pleasure.

The sight of two men in the bathroom with him came as an unfathomable sight. He actually shook his head as if his vision would clear. But it didn’t.

"Where’s the bitch?” Bailey One asked.

“Yeah,” said Bailey Two. “Where is she?”

“Why don’t you get the fuck out of here since that’s none of your business,” he said.

Bailey One held up the box of shells. “One box of shells!. Who does she think she is giving us this shit!”

He looked for any kind of weapon but the bathroom was the wrong place to look. He was going to have to talk these two lunatics out of here. “Look. She got called back to the clinic. She won’t be back for a week. So why don’t you two assholes take a hike.” He stood up and stepped out of the tub.

Bailey One nudged his brother. “Looky there. The fer-erner has a dick.”

Bailey Two nudged back. “He may have a dick but I bet he ain’t got no balls.” His mind captured a thought. “Hey. Didn’t he call us assholes.”

“I think he did. I think you’re right about that.”

“What’s that thing people say,” Bailey Two was getting a headache trying to remember. “Come on, you know. It takes one-"

“To know one!” Bailey One crowed.

They both looked at him, their eyes going dark with an ugly lust. “Well, if we're assholes, then we oughta get to know his asshole. Right?” Bailey Two shook the box of shells. “We’ve got enough shells here to make this boy dance all week.”

He grabbed the towel off the rack and roped the closest Bailey around the legs with it. The big man hit the tile floor like a stone. His head bounced up and he cracked his forehead against the doorjamb. Blood oozed from a small gash.

The second Bailey jumped behind him and wrapped his arm around his neck. The smell was overpowering. In his other hand, he held a knife. Bailey Two put the point of the knife under his eye and pressed it into his flesh.

He could feel the man’s filthy hard on through the grease covered overalls he wore.

“You okay, Ferd,” Bailey Two asked his fallen brother.

He nodded.

“Come on then. I want this boy. I want this boy so bad.”

His brother pulled himself up slowly and held his head. “You go ahead. I’ll watch for awhile. My head sure hurts.”

“Let’s take him in on the table there by the fireplace. You can see better.”

“Whatever. Just shut up. My head’s killin’ me.” He looked at it in the mirror. “You’re drawing blood there under his eye. Do you see?”

Bailey Two pushed him in front of the mirror so he could see for himself. “Now I’m sorry about that,” he whispered into his ear. “Come on out here and I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

Bailey Two pushed him through the bedroom and out to the kitchen table. His brother cleared it with a sweep of his arm. Bailey Two grabbed a handful of hair and slammed his head down on the table. “Hold the knife on him, Ferd.”

Ferd grabbed the knife and pushed the tip between his shoulder blades. “This is gonna be sumpin’, ain’t it, fer-erner?” He leaned his face down and stared blurry-eyed into his. ‘I can’t wait to see the look on your face.”

“You won’t live that long,” he growled. It was a primitive sound from a black corner of his soul.

Bailey Two pushed his grimy pants down around his knees and waddled up behind him. He grabbed his hard on with one hand and stuck two dirt-caked fingers into his mouth. “This boy’s gonna be tight. I’ll have to prime the pump first.”

“Oh, boys.” Suze’s voice was sweet as sugar from behind them.

Ferd looked up in time to see Max’s fangs just before they buried themselves in his throat. The two went down in a tangle of fury. The knife flew from his hand and clattered across the floor.

Bailey Two stumbled backwards, hobbled by the pants around his knees.

“Take it,” she yelled tossing the deer rifle to him. He caught it in mid-air and pinned Bailey Two to the floor, the barrel against his forehead. Suze grabbed the knife and ran to the tumbling mass of fangs and humanity rolling around under the kitchen table.

“Max! Out! Out!”

Maxine relaxed her jaw but did not release. She waited to see what the man would do.

He laid perfectly still.

“Out! Max!”

Against her will, Max let go of the man’s throat but she did not go far.

“Good girl,” Suze said. “Good dog.”

She looked up at his face then. It was a wild thing she saw. Whatever would happen now, would happen. There were no words to change its course. He stood naked, his body shaking with unbridled rage. His hair hung in a wild tangle across his face. Thankfully, because she couldn’t bear to see his eyes right now.

Max growled low in her throat. It was over. Just how much over remained to be seen. It was all up to him now.

The Baileys did not move. Or breathe. Or whimper. They waited.

A clock ticked in the kitchen.

Max walked to his side and sat down. She leaned her body against his leg. She had recognized the other animal in the room. She tilted her head up and looked at him. Carefully, she raised one paw and scratched his bare foot with her own.

Suze watched his head shake once. The trance was broken. He stepped away keeping his grip on the gun.

“Get out.” It was a whisper. It roared through the room.

The Baileys scrambled through the door before he could change his mind. Bailey Two did not even bother to pull his pants up. He let his brother drag him down the steps and across the pitch dark yard into the woods.

In the morning light, they stood on the porch. Max sat in the doorway watching the sun come up with them.

”Will you marry him?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” she answered.

He put his arm around her and pulled her into him, close.

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

He kissed her forehead then let her go. “Goodbye, Max.” He patted his new best friend on her head and scratched her ears. She thumped her tail at her new master.

He stepped off the porch and headed across the yard, down the invisible drive.

Suze had never seen such a beautiful sight. Almost out of earshot, he turned and looked back.

“You said there were two men. Two men in your life,” he called to her. “Who is the other one?”

She lifted her hand and pointed. At him.

They waved goodbye.

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