#may200

You Are a Work of Art

Dr. Seuss

Bonnie ran through the woods, throwing energy blasts behind her. She heard a grunt and then nothing. She couldn’t even hear his footsteps anymore. She was ready to light him up, but she needed a defensible position. She couldn’t let him catch her before he had the upper hand. It was chilly and dark, and even though she could see the moon through the trees, the light wasn’t reaching the ground because of the bloom-laden branches of spring. Thunder rolled across the sky. A flash lit up the night; a figure was just ahead of her. Bonnie stilled, peering through the dark. She held her breath and released it when she realized it was a bear bunking down for the night. She moved away quietly, and something snatched her up. His hold was a vice. Bonnie struggled and thought about reaching for her magic, but they were moving at breakneck speeds- a vamp. He would heal if they ran into a tree or rock. She would go splat.

“Put me down,” Bonnie yelled.

“No,” He growled back.

She expected to end up in a trunk or abandoned building, but he dropped her on an air mattress in a tent. There were candles, food, and chocolates. Was that champagne in an ice bucket?

“What is this?” Bonnie said, picking up a rose petal.

“It’s our anniversary,” Kol said, standing in front of her.

Bonnie sighed. “Kol, this is not how you date someone.”

“Well, you lot have stopped trading livestock and land. How else am I supposed to win your hand?”

“Try not scaring me half to death. I thought you were a murderer.”

“I am a murderer.”

“One that is actively trying to murder- you know what, I’m going home.” Bonnie tried to get off the mattress. She struggled to find purchase on the shifting plastic surface. She finally got to her feet.

“You haven’t tasted the dinner I made,” Kol said, picking up a roasting pan with oven mitts. Bonnie peeked into the pot- roast. It was a roast with those little potatoes she liked. The rain started pouring. She could see the streaming drops through the tent flaps behind Kol. Lightening flashed again.

Bonnie’s stomach growled. She looked around at the fairy lights, blankets, and pillows. She tried not to smile at the movie pulled up on a laptop. “Fine. Dinner and a movie. That’s all.”

Sam was out back cleaning his grill when he heard a truck rumble down the street. He peeked around the side of the house. A moving van was pulling up to Mrs. Balan’s house. Sam’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t seen his neighbor in weeks. He went over and rang the bell once or twice, but he figured she wasn’t home because her TV was always going. It hadn’t been the days he checked on her. He had been worried about her but knew she had an extended family nearby.

He liked Mrs. Balan, despite her reputation as the cul de sac witch. They traded recipes and vegetables from their gardens. Sam ran a pushy salesman away from her house. He truly thought he was going to have to get in the dickhead’s ass. Mrs. Balan watered his garden and fed Figaro when Sam was out on TDYs. She was a good neighbor and sweet to him. 

She was funny and quite intuitive. She was always trying to fix him up with her nephew, which was hilarious because Sam never said he was bisexual, and everyone in his life was always shocked when he told them- it’s the Air Force and sports thing. Mrs. Balan knew, though. She knew a lot of things. Sam hoped he hadn’t heard the last of her wisdom. Fuck it.

Sam put down the fork with the onion stuck to it and closed the grill. He walked out his back gate and walked to Mrs. Balan’s house. Mrs. Balan was being helped out of the truck. “There he is, Jimmy. Sam, this is the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s moving in.”

Sam smiled. He was happy she was- Oh, her nephew helped her into a wheelchair. “Mrs. Balan is everything okay?”

“I stumbled-” Mrs. Balan said.

“You fell,” Jimmy said.

“I stumbled and hurt my ankle. Now, my family thinks I’m helpless.”

“Needing help is not helpless. I need a place to stay, and you need help getting around. It’s a good deal.”

“I’m not stupid. With those baby blues, you’ll never be without a bed. 

“Mătușă, te rog.”

“Tell him, Sammy. That smile of yours makes everyone melt.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m happy you’re okay, Mrs. Balan. It’s nice to meet you, Jimmy. I’m Sam.” He stuck out his hand and smiled.

“Geez, you weren’t lying,” Jimmy said.

Mrs. Balan laughed. “I told you.”

“No one under sixty calls me, Jimmy, sweetheart. My name is James, but I go by Bucky.”

Bucky was right. Mrs. Balan wasn’t lying. Upon close inspection, her nephew was handsome and well-dressed, and his eyes were startling blue. His smirk told Sam everything he needed to know. Sam glanced at the easel, canvases, and guitar on the truck. Oh, Sam was in trouble, especially since Bucky was still holding his hand.

Mrs. Balan admired her nails and her matchmaking handiwork. “You know I had a dream about you two. You move to San Myshuno, get married, and have two kids- a boy and a girl. Jimmy, you take the art world by storm, and Sammy you leave the military and start the business you always wanted.”

“Sounds wonderful. Sign me up,” Bucky says.

“If only the neighborhood gossip were true, and you are psychic,” Sam said.