In a Huff, and In a Hurry

          An Important Notice to Readers...

     Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience.  Please be advised.

Thank You,

The Author

     

Fr. Kevin contemplates being left behind

        He sat that way for a long time, head pressed against the sofa cushion, plastic dish pan in his lap. Brian observed him in odd forlorn silence, which gave credence to his theory that the wee man was somehow involved.  At this point, it didn't matter who was to blame.  It all came down to the fact that none of the people he cared about most, felt he was worthy of their confidence.

       It wasn't a big surprise that Beckett felt this way.  He never hid the fact that he found Kevin's vocation absurd, and his spiritual beliefs naive.  But before Maureen's accident, and the ensuing argument over the psycho woman, he was pretty sure they had been...well... friends, if you could describe a relationship with the Sheriff in such generic terms.  He was the type of person who could  make you feel like you were the only person in the room, while systematically holding you an arm's length away.  Outwardly charming and personable, there was something menacing and grim about his general nature, and when the Fairy Queen had given him the moniker "Dark Knight", the priest was certain it wasn't the man's brunette locks she was describing.

       His brother-in-law's deception had not been a complete shock, but Brian's revelation that Roxanne had traveled in his place cut deep, a total breech of loyalty that hurt more than he would ever admit to anyone, expect ironically, to Roxie herself.  They had experienced the curse of the damned watch together, been sucked into time, and returned unscathed.  She had witnessed first hand how he had done everything possible to get them back home, even to the point of possibly sacrificing his own life.  And now, with Maureen's safety at stake, Rox's lack of belief in him, and the betrayal that went along with it, was worse than the punch Beckett took at his head.

         Kevin tried to push himself up from the floor, and grimaced.  His head still swam, and the rolling in his stomach had taken on a whole new dimension.

        "Best be you stay put, Laddie.  No sense in making things worse."  The clurichaun slid down off the sofa arm to join him on the floor.  "I could help with the ache in your belly, I could, with a fine pot of spearmint tea."

         "I'm fine.  I'm a grown man.  I'll handle it on my own.  You can be on your way now.  No reason for you to be hanging around here.  Nothing to see.  Nothing to say."

        "Ach, Lad, I know you be angry.  And not so well to boot.  But you're lettn' your head lead ya in the wrong direction.  'Tis for the best, and if ya jest spell it all out, you'd be seeing it in the same manner."

         Kevin held up a hand.  "Stop.  Just stop there.  You said your piece earlier.  I don't need a repeat. Especially from someone I can't trust."

         The little man narrowed his eyes, and with a flick of his wrist, the dish pan in his lap flew across the room, and banged into the leg of his desk, splashing vomit in its wake.  "You be actn' like a spoiled bairn, Kevin Seamus!  Not seein' the gift your friends gave for your sake.  They sacrificed themselves...a piece of their immortal soul...so yours could stay clean and whole.  You, who claim belief in all things unseen, did not believe so much as your friends.  They wisely took She Who Was All at her word.  Believed her when she said the dark spell would be costly.  Too costly for one in the service of the Creator.  And when you yourself would not listen to reason, they had little choice be to save you from yourself.  Ach!  You have a head made of saw dust, Lad.  I be shamed for your lack of gratitude."

        The Fey's words both alarmed and embarrassed him, and he knew somewhere in all of this was one of those life changing moments.  Yet, with his head pounding, and his puke puddling in spots on the carpet, he wasn't ready to crawl into the concept that what his friends had done was an act of pure selflessness and love.  What he wanted at the moment was solitude.  The quiet space of self pity where he could lick his wounds in total abandonment.  He pushed himself up from the floor, disregarding the groaning of cramped muscles, and facing the little man, gave a careless wave of his hand. "Well, by all means then, maybe you should be on your way, Brian.  Wouldn't want you hanging around here all ashamed of me, would we?"

        Brian frowned, and shook his head sadly.  "As you wish, laddie.  As you wish."  With a snap of his fingers, he was gone, leaving Fr. Kevin alone in the room with a mess and his thoughts.

______________________________

        Where they would end up had been one of his biggest concerns.  He liked his missions planned in detail, and the Fairy Queen had been less than forthcoming with the incidentals of where and when.  Beckett couldn't imagine what they would do if they appeared out of nowhere in front of people.  It would put them at a disadvantage, a scenario he wanted to avoid at all costs.  In the basics, it was a very simple plan.  Arrive.  Seek out Maureen.  Find the spot in the bank.  Verify that Maureen and Mrs. Revere had switched.  Then, use the amulet to return home.  The key was avoiding contact with other people of the time.  Not so much because of the Queen's warning about changing the nature of time, but simply because in his line of work, contact usually meant conflict.  The more conflict, the messier the job became.  Easy in-easy out worked best, and this mission was no different in most ways than the hundreds he'd undertaken before.  Except, maybe, that the stakes were higher.  More personal

       As it was, he had worried for nothing.  One moment he and Roxanne had been hand-strapped together in the rectory parlor, and the next conscious moment had him on his back starring up at a night sky, his new Deputy lying slightly on top of him, her eyes still closed.  He could feel her breath on his neck, so he knew she was alive and fine, though not yet conscious. Shifting his weight to his right shoulder, he moved her to her back, and with his other hand, unlaced the cord tying their hands.  He pulled the length of cord through the bail of the amulet, then knotted the ends together tightly, and placed the whole thing over his head, tucking it under his clothes.

        Next to him, Roxie groaned, her eye lids fluttering as she fought through the fog of time travel.  Beckett took the time to scope out his surroundings.  Luck on their side, they had landed in a dense spot of trees and foliage, and by the position of the moon, sometime around 4 AM, under the cover of pre-dawn darkness.  He could smell smoke in the distance, and knew there must be others fairly close by, but for the present, it appeared he and Rox were alone.

       It would be best to take advantage of the dark to make their way into the Boston proper as quickly as possible, and so hoping to speed up her full consciousness, he gave Rox a shake, lightly tapping her cheeks.  "Deputy.  Roxanne.  Are you awake? Rise and shine.  We gotta get moving."

         She groaned again, but did not open her eyes.  Beckett checked her pulse, finding it strong and steady, and gave her another hard shake.  "Deputy Spinelli...can you hear me?"

        There was no response.  She seemed to be out cold, unaware that their opportunity for stealth travel was slipping away.  He made a face, but having no other choice, clamped a hand firmly over her nose and mouth.  It took a few seconds, but she began to stir a bit, then struggle, her arms flailing about, until finally her eyes opened wide in terror.  Seeing she was fully awake, he removed his hand.  She shot to a sitting position, coughing and sputtering.

       "What the fuck?!  Why were you tryn' to suffocated me?!"

       "I wasn't.  You were out cold.  I couldn't wait for you to regain consciousness on your own.  Time's slipping away."

        "You could have killed me!"

        "No.  The brain's set for flight or fight.  I knew as soon as I cut off your breathing, it would take over, and force you to fight for survival.   You'd have no choice but to get the adrenaline pumping.  I wouldn't have let you suffocate."

        "Well isn't that fucking nice to know!  Hell, Sheriff...that's pretty extreme, don't you think?"

         He shrugged his shoulders.  "Actually, it's a pretty common technique."  He stood up, and offered her a hand.  "Now, if you think you can stand, I suggest we be on our way."

Beckett and Roxanne arrive outside Boston

Copyright Victoria T. Rocus 2015
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