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VIP-BTC2: Chapter 72
🕑 Added 2023-06-18 19:00:03 +0000 UTC-- CHAPTER 72: … You Can’t Unring the Bell --
****
“You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”
I gawked at Mother in confusion, feeling utterly bewildered by her presence. But in the same way as when you wake up from a dream and only then start to realize that certain details were really strange, only then did I realize that we weren’t in the great room of the rented Mammoth Mountain house.
We were in a stranger’s house.
The stairs I had just come down were unfamiliar. The furniture. The walls. The photographs on the walls. Naimh herself was the only thing I recognized, although I now realized that the photographs on the wall featured an older version of the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
Naimh was still gorgeous – like supermodel gorgeous - with considerable curves shown off to perfection by clothes that flattered her figure. Her body was sculpted perfection, without an ounce of fat and yet not being overly muscled. She was particularly gorgeous on a tropical beach wearing some wispy nothing of a bikini. And she was even more gorgeous in a slinky white wedding dress with a long train and a sheer bridal veil.
Her husband in the photographs with her was tall and handsome, with a neatly cropped beard, nice cheekbones, and a strong jaw. They had a dog, and photos of their parents were hung on the walls alongside photos of the happy couple themselves. But as far as I could tell, there were no children.
The sofa was black leather and the coffee table was glass and black metal. The walls were concrete. The floating stairs were suspended with steel cables. The overall décor of the house was modern and monochromatic, where the most colorful thing was Naimh and her flaming copper-red hair wearing a bright yellow V-neck sweater and green skirt that showed off her long, lithe legs. And as I watched, that green skirt molded tight around her juicy buttcheeks when she crawled into her husband’s lap, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and she planted the kind of fiercely passionate kiss I could still vividly recall her giving to me.
I fought the urge to bend over and vomit all over the polished marble floor.
“You’re particularly frisky today,” the man muttered with a grin between kisses.
“I’m always frisky for you, luv,” Naimh drawled in reply to her husband, her massive diamond ring sparkling in the light. Fresh bile rose up my throat at the sound of my Squeakers saying the endearment ‘luv’ to some other man.
“Does my frisky redhead wanna feel my big dick skewering her ultratight asshole?” he growled with glittering eyes.
“If that’s what me luv really wants,” Naimh hedged, her eyes tightening in a way I recognized as her expression whenever caught between two urges. “Or…”
The man’s grin faded. “You know it’s not safe for that right now.”
“I know…”
“Then why would you suggest it?”
“You know why.”
“Neevie, dear…” The man’s grip on his wife’s ass relaxed, no longer holding her close against his pelvis. “We’ve talked about this.”
“I know we have.”
“Then why?” Suddenly angry, the man took hold of Naimh’s hips and roughly shoved her off his lap and onto the sofa cushion beside him. He stood up and walked away, shaking his head. “I thought we’d agreed.”
“We did, we did,” Naimh muttered, her head bowed and her expression placating. She was on the verge of tears, and I automatically started walking forward with every intention to wrap her up in a hug and reassure her that everything would be alright.
But Mother caught my arm and tugged me back. “You can’t interfere in this.”
I scowled at her but returned my attention to the couple in front of me.
“Are we or are we not on the same page about not having children just yet?” the man asked roughly.
“We are, we are,” Naimh replied with that same familiar expression of being caught between two urges on her face.
“You are SO not on the same page,” I muttered. “That’s the classic Neevie look for ‘I’m agreeing with you because I don’t want to argue but deep down I really want the exact opposite’.”
But Naimh’s husband wasn’t looking at her. He was already shaking his head as he stared out through the patio sliding door and its expansive view of the ocean beyond. After taking a deep breath, he turned around to face her and stated, “Your doctor said you can start taking your birth control pills again in two weeks. I’m not entering your pussy until it’s safe to do so, not even with a condom, and that’s final. What were you thinking?”
“There’s no guarantee I’d get knocked up,” she muttered softly. She stood up and approached her husband, her expression pleading. “You could even pull out before you cum. I was just thinking…”
“Thinking what?”
“I was just thinking… if it happened…” Naimh looked up, her emerald-green eyes shimmering with moisture. “Maybe it would be God telling us it’s meant to be.”
The man was shaking his head again. “Oh Neevie, Neevie, Neevie. Forever a dreamer. I love you for it, but some days you drive me crazy.”
“I know, Henry. I know,” she muttered dispiritedly. She wiped a tear from her eyes and hugged herself, bringing her arms in tight alongside her breasts, a move that squished the massive melons upwards and forward to create incredible cleavage in her V-neck. “I’m sorry, luv. I shouldna brought it up. But I’d still be happy to let you shove it in me ultratight arsehole.”
Henry shook his head, checked his watch, and then tapped it. “I’ve got a phone call I need to make anyways.”
Naimh nodded her understanding, but then blinked and gave him a saucy smile. “I could crawl under your desk and give you--”
“Neevie, please. I’m not angry with you. You don’t need to try and make it up to me with sex.” He shrugged. “I know how much you want kids, and I promise we will have them someday. I promise. Just not today. Alright?”
Naimh nodded. “Alright.”
Henry smiled one last time, stepped up to his wife, and leaned over to give her a quick peck. He then walked out of the living room, unexpectedly coming straight for me and Mother, and I instinctively tensed up in sudden panic. But just as before with the utility workers, the man passed straight through my intangible form as if I wasn’t even there. And I gasped while holding my chest as I turned around to watch him enter a home office by the foyer, go inside, and close the door behind him.
The sound of Naimh’s sob jerked my attention back around. My lonely Irish redhead stood in the middle of the living room with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her legs, her fingers intertwined together. She convulsed rather violently, too violently really for what had seemingly been a minor tiff. And I could see the strain in her muscles, shoulders, and jaw trying to hold in her pent-up emotions.
Her pain escaped in barely audible squeaks. She gritted her teeth together and outright refused to make any sounds louder than that. I wondered if she feared letting her husband catch her crying, letting him hear the kind of wracking gasps that hurt so much she might crack her ribs open.
Soundless shudders reflecting her broken heart.
Her legs suddenly gave out and she sat down hard, right there on the floor in the middle of the living room. I could see her fighting not to cry, not to let her husband hear her pain, but the tears were coming and she was absolutely helpless to stop them. Heavy drops poured down her cheeks while gusts of anguish wracked her chest in ragged, ugly sobs. She covered the top of her head with both arms as if the pain was a physical thing she could physically ward away, but to no avail.
I didn’t care that I was an intangible form unable to give Naimh any real comfort. I walked away from Mother, sat down on the floor, and wrapped my arms around my freckled redhead. And to my surprise, I found that I actually could.
I didn’t fall straight through the floor, of course, and could even feel the texture of the area rug beneath my ass. I supposed that made sense, given that the rug itself shouldn’t be any less tangible than the floor. Then again, how was it that I could feel Naimh’s body within my grasp? How was it that I could tuck her shoulder against my chest, reach around to stroke her arms, and lean in to plant a tender kiss to the upper side of her head.
“Oh, Matty…” she murmured softly, and I tensed up in utter shock. But she didn’t turn to look at me. She didn’t reach up to touch my arms or otherwise react to my embrace. I could feel her body pressed against mine, but I wasn’t sure if she could actually feel ME.
I shifted myself slightly, turning to put my face in front of hers. But Naimh didn’t react in any way, even though her eyes were open. I kept one arm around her back and rubbed her knee. Again, she didn’t react.
“I need to see you…” Naimh mumbled, the thumb of her right hand brushing up against the massive diamond on her left ring finger. But then she turned her left hand palm up, reached into her pocket with her right hand, and fished out the same kind of cell phone that Sam had used, the kind with a massive front screen instead of a keypad.
The screen came to life, featuring a neat array of icons in rows of four. Naimh tapped a green icon with what looked like a white dialogue bubble in the middle of it, bringing up a list of names alongside tiny circular photographs. And I was surprised to see that the third photo down was a picture of ME right next to the text “Matty” in bold lettering.
She tapped my name, and what looked like a text message screen came up, along with a digital keyboard occupying the lower third of the screen. I didn’t have time to scan the message history before Naimh started typing out: Hey. You busy?
M: Never too busy for you. What’s up?
N: Can I come over?
M: Something wrong?
N: The usual. I just need a hug.
M: I’d love to give you a hug, but I don’t think Henry would like it very much.
N: He knows we’re just friends now.
M: I know you’ve told him we’re just friends, but he still glared at me the last time we met.
N: Don’t worry about Henry. I need to see you. Please?
M: You already know I can never say no to you.
N: Great. See you soon.
Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.
****
“Matty… Matty… Matty…”
“Nngghh… Nngghh… Nngghh…”
“Matty… Matty… Matty…”
“Nngghh… Nngghh… Nngghh…”
“Oh, FUCK, Matty! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!”
“I’m gonna cum too! I’m gonna cum too!”
“Fuck me, Matty! Fuck me, Matty! Fuck me and fill me! Fill me! FILL MEEEEE!!!”
I had to blink several times, shake my head, rub my eyes with both hands, and then blink several times again before accepting the fact that I was seeing what I was seeing:
Me (well, an older version of me) fucking the supermodel version of Naimh.
It was surreal.
For whatever reason, I had quickly wrapped my head around the idea of being transported by my mother acting as my Guardian-Angel-slash-Ghost-of-Christmas into a vision of the future to witness firsthand how Sam and now Naimh were doing without me. But the idea of seeing an older version myself was truly blowing my mind.
I was in a large bedroom decorated with warm colors and a mahogany four-poster bed with a white linen canopy and matching drapes. There were pictures on the walls and on the nightstand, but for some reason the images themselves were just a bit out of focus, blurred in a way that made it impossible for me to recognize anyone in them save myself.
FutureMe was naked and face-down in a missionary position over Naimh. FutureMe had a great ass, which was a really surreal thing to acknowledge given that I couldn’t think of the last time I’d seen my own ass completely naked. FutureMe was in pretty good shape, actually. I wouldn’t call myself in supermodel shape the way Naimh was, but I was relieved to see I hadn’t let myself go or anything like that.
I couldn’t see FutureMe’s face directly, nor did I particularly want to. I held some irrational fear that if our eyes met, the universe would implode or something. But I couldn’t help noticing that FutureMe had pinned SupermodelNaimh’s hands to the mattress to either side of her head, their fingers intertwined, and FutureMe wore a platinum wedding band on his left hand.
Naimh’s yellow V-neck and green skirt were on the floor next to the bed, leaving me no question that the scene I was witnessing was taking place on the same day. The stunning redhead’s long, lithe legs were wrapped high around her lover’s back as the man who was NOT her husband pounded her relentlessly with heaving, driving, thrusts. And from my present vantage point, the angle of thrusting made it clear that FutureMe was currently cramming every inch of his concrete-hard cock directly into Naimh’s clenching cunt.
Her apparently unprotected clenching cunt.
I glanced to my side at Mother. She didn’t look back at me, instead keeping her gaze locked onto the couple coupling on the bed as Naimh’s orgasm announced itself and the seasoned lovers wordlessly changed positions so that my doppelgänger could re-enter her from behind for the final stretch. Mother’s expression was a scowl of severe disappointment, the kind of expression I knew she’d give me if she ever found out I’d stuck my dick into an unprotected girl’s pussy. And I felt an unreasonable urge to defend myself in front of her.
It’s not like I’m actually sticking my dick into her right now.
But rather than say anything so patently ridiculous, I took a step away from her and moved closer to the bed, feeling drawn by the look of reckless exhilaration in Naimh’s eyes. The other me continued rutting away, oblivious to the life-altering melodrama as he focused on the simple task of giving a woman pleasure before finding his own release.
Naimh seemed to recognize just how close her lover was to ejaculation, and that knowledge excited and terrified her like nothing else. It all played out in front of me. Naimh was no fool and neither, I gathered, was Henry. There would be no way to explain this away as an accident. He’d firmly shut the door on any plausible deniability.
A hitch caught her breath as the point-of-no-return rushed forward. A moment of clarity seized her, and she pushed herself up and turned back to the other me with what I believed was a shouted, “Stop!” in her throat, only to be met with a passionate liplock from FutureMe that sent all reason scrambling for purchase. The disengagement she’d begun only reversed as she pulled him into her, back in the missionary position I’d found them in. There was no guarantee anything would come of tonight, but if it did perhaps it was God’s way of telling her it was meant to be. And so she cast the die on her future, her marriage, and for all I knew… my marriage.
She had always been the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, and so still remained even after the passage of some unknown number of years. My freckled redhead’s face was exquisite, her emerald-green eyes glittered, and as she invited the tempest of destiny to seize hold of her future and hurl it as it will, her beaming smile full of pearly white teeth absolutely lit up the room.
“I LOVE YOU MATTY! CUM IN ME!” she screamed with limitless joy. “FILL ME! FILL ME! FFFIIIILLLLLL MMMEEE!!!”
“UNGH! UNGH! UUUNNNGGGHHH!!!”
FutureMe slammed forward one final time, grunting with obvious orgasmic relief as he evidently unloaded a massive barrage of millions of sperm straight into the back of Naimh’s potentially fertile womb. She screamed. He (I?) screamed. And together the two adulterous lovers thrashed and moaned and shivered in their sinfully degenerate lust.
And then they both collapsed.
I felt like I could literally see steam rising from FutureMe’s sweaty back. Naimh kept her legs crossed behind his lower back with her arms likewise locked behind his neck. The pair remained like that for several minutes, panting for oxygen and nuzzling each other with their noses. Once, FutureMe made to move off of her, but she clutched him close as if she didn’t want to let go. And she remained in that turtle-on-her-back position for a long while as if waiting for gravity to ensure that every single droplet of semen had plenty of time to complete its journey up her fallopian tubes.
Finally, though, Naimh relaxed her grip and released her legs. FutureMe gave her a quick peck on the lips and then groaned as he rolled off of her and onto his back on the other side of her. I didn’t get a clear look at his face, my gaze instantly drawn to the glorious nudity of SupermodelNaimh.
Her big breasts stood up tall and firm, sagging only slightly while flat on her back. Her abs were tight and fit. Her legs were silky smooth. Her red-tufted loins glistened from more than just the sweat that covered her entire body in a fine sheen. And of course, the freckled redhead’s face was beauty personified.
The most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.
Rubbing her belly as if she could already feel the spark of life growing within.
A spark that was half hers.
And half mine.
Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.
****
I reappeared in the master bedroom of the rented Mammoth Mountain house.
I also appeared some sixteen inches above the floor, and I let out an awkward yelp of surprise as I dropped like a rock and abruptly landed on both feet. But I was getting used to this particular surprise, and I managed to not fall flat on my face, merely squatting down a bit with my arms out to the sides before finding my balance and standing up straight. And then I shot Mother a harsh look.
“Is that really necessary?”
“A guardian angel’s job is not merely protection, but also education, and you’ve already learned how to not fall flat on your face.”
“I refuse to believe you’re my guardian angel. And if Heaven ends up emailing me a survey when we’re done, you are most certainly NOT going to get your wings.”
Mother rolled her eyes, and all of a sudden a pair of massive white wings sprouted from behind her back: fluffy and feathered and massive like on a Greek painting from the Renaissance. She flapped once, lifting her cruel angelic form six feet off the ground into what was suddenly a cathedral ceiling, sending a powerful gust of wind that quite literally knocked me on my ass. And then she stepped forward to loom large and menacingly over me with a decidedly wicked grin.
“Now why would you ever think Heaven would send you a survey about me by email?”
“You told me not to think too hard about it!” I squawked defensively.
Mother sighed and shook her head as she returned to earth, her wings dissolving into nothing save a few stray feathers that littered the ground around her. She beckoned me to stand up with two disinterested fingers, and I scowled while rather gingerly getting to my feet.
“Moving on: You told me before that Sam and I broke up, and the scenes I’d witnessed were the result.” I gestured vaguely behind myself, as if I could physically point back to the scenes I had now just witnessed concerning Naimh. “What happened between me and Neevie? How did we break up?”
“You assume you broke up. Did we or did we not just witness you and the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen acting on the white-hot chemistry you’d always shared with each other?”
“I also saw Neevie with her husband and saw her wedding photos. Does he suspect his wife is banging FutureMe on the side? Am I party to marital infidelity? Shit, I saw that FutureMe has a wedding band of his own. Am -I- cheating on my wife?”
“You are simply doing what you’ve always promised: to be whatever the girl needs you to be. It’s been your life’s purpose, your modus operandi, your default reaction to any given situation,” she muttered with a weary sigh.
“Do I detect a note of disdain for my so-called ‘default reaction to any given situation’?”
Mother silently rolled her eyes rather than deign to give me a verbal response.
“If you think that little eye-roll is going to get me to react defensively to my modus operandi, it won’t. I take pride in supporting the loved ones in my life. I DO feel a sense of purpose in being whatever the girls need me to be. Bringing them joy gives ME joy. Making them happy makes ME happy. And I won’t apologize for it.”
“No matter the consequences?”
I blinked and thought back on what I’d just seen. “You mean a consequence like FutureMe filling Neevie’s unprotected womb with your out-of-wedlock grandchild when her husband refused to do so?”
“Yes, that would be one unfortunate consequence.”
“A possible consequence.” I hedged. “There’s no guarantee she’d get knocked up.”
“You can’t unring a bell, Matthew.”
Mother’s tone was severe, and I understood with absolute certainty that in this vision of the future, Naimh DID get knocked up. I found myself conflicted, partly recoiling from the knowledge that this would destroy Naimh’s marriage, but partly rejoicing at the idea of my Squeakers and I creating new life together.
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “You didn’t show me what happened between Neevie texting me and then us having sex. You didn’t show me whatever conversation took place between the two events.”
“Does it really matter?”
“Of course it matters.” I shook my head again. “I saw the texts expressing concern that Henry didn’t like FutureMe and that Neevie told him we were just friends. There’s no way I would want Neevie to cheat on her husband. There’s certainly no way I would knowingly inseminate her without birth control.”
“Because you have such a good track record of asking your partners if they’re on birth control prior to inseminating them?” Mother’s scowl of severe disappointment was back. “You should already know the conversation that took place. Naimh came to your house begging you to make her feel better. You stated that you didn’t want to be party to marital infidelity. But Naimh insisted, and you succumbed to her advances. As usual.”
I blinked. “This wasn’t the first time?”
“Of course not. Your modus operandi has always been to be whatever the girl needs you to be, even when it’s clear that you should be something else for her.”
I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows, processing that. Shaking my head slowly, I looked back up at Mother and said, “You still haven’t told me how we broke up.”
“The truth is: it’s impossible to be what every girl needs you to be. You can’t make everyone happy. At some point in your life, two different girls will need you to be two different things. And when that time comes, disappointing someone will be an inevitability.”
“I’m going to end up disappointing Neevie. I’ve already seen the opposite needs of being Sam’s ‘home’ while simultaneously reassuring Neevie that she’s the great love of my life.” I winced. “Trying to be supportive of Sam is going to undermine Neevie’s faith in our relationship, and she’s going to leave me.”
“No, actually,” Mother stated plainly.
I blinked. “What?”
“When your Big Tits Club breaks up, Naimh will be the one who holds on tight and fights to keep you while the other girls go their separate ways. Despite your commitment-averse nature, you will convince her that she’s the Great Love of Your Life, you will impulsively propose in desperation to try and hold on to the magic of what once was but can no longer be, and she will happily wear your engagement ring,” Mother muttered with a dejected tone of disappointment.
Gesturing vaguely behind myself, I pointed out, “That wasn’t MY engagement ring she was wearing just now.”
“Destruction is never a solid foundation for a relationship.” Mother shook her head. “You won’t lie when you tell Naimh you love her, but your days together will be in the shadow of what you lost. You will fall into a great depression after the disintegration of your precious club. Naimh will realize she cannot fill the hole in your heart caused by the loss of all your friends – cannot fill the hole in her own heart, either. In time she will try to mend the friendships she helped tear apart and bring everyone back together again. But all the king’s horses and all the king’s men…”
I raised my eyebrows at the unexpected Humpty Dumpty reference stated in Mother’s sepulchral tone.
Mother took a deep breath and then fixed me with a look. “She will blame herself, she won’t be able to cope with the gnawing sense of guilt that will come with failing to put The BTC’s well-being above her desire to be number one in your heart, and your relationship will fall apart.”
“She’ll end up married to Henry. I’ll end up married to someone else.”
“But you will swear to always be whatever Naimh needs you to be. You love her. You always will.” Now it was Mother’s turn to gesture vaguely behind herself, scowling in severe disappointment. “No matter the consequences.”
****
Nothing tickled my balls, and I didn’t jerk awake.
No stray beam of sunlight woke me up.
I didn’t grind my morning wood into the cleft of anyone’s bare buttcheeks. I didn’t even HAVE morning wood. At least now I could be certain it was morning, if the quantity of light in the room was anything to go by.
My head still hurt. A splitting headache… well… split my head. Not wholly unexpected, given the splitting headaches I’d always gotten on previous occasions after taking Sam’s super-pills. And I groaned while reaching up to squeeze my noggin with both hands.
At least I could reach up and squeeze my noggin with both hands. My limbs were no longer tied to the bed, although the leftover remnants of gift wrap ribbons were still fastened around my wrists.
I was also alone in the master bedroom of our rented house. Last night was supposed to have been my night with Sam and Zofi, but neither girl was presently in the room. I had to assume both had already woken up and gone downstairs to let me sleep in, and the muffled sounds of conversation floating in through the closed bedroom door reassured me as to their presence.
Then again, I had made these kinds of assumptions before.
Rather than wallow in bed for another few minutes, I immediately sat up, swung my legs off the bed, and walked naked over to the closed bedroom door. I opened the door, half-expecting to see a rectangular field of infinite white light with no beginning and no end. But it was just the hallway of the rented Mammoth Mountain house, with the familiar voices of girls I loved wafting their way up the stairs.
Exhaling a sigh of relief, I turned around to go get dressed…
… and I jerked my head back in shock to suddenly find myself standing in the middle of a loudly chaotic, run-down pre-school daycare. The furniture was badly worn. Two of the overhead fluorescent lights weren’t functioning, with a third flickering with epilepsy-inducing blinks before going out completely, only to slowly flicker back on a minute later.
It was a crowded space, with seemingly far more kids in the room than typical for a room this size. They were not forty children conducting themselves like one, but every child was conducting itself like forty. The consequences were uproarious beyond belief; but no one seemed to care.
Screaming toddlers ran higgledy-piggledy in every direction. A boy and a girl sat on plastic chairs at a very low toddler table, eating chicken nuggets and smearing applesauce on each other’s cheeks with plastic spoons. Two boys wrestled in the corner. Three boys were making zooming noises as they chased each other around with toy airplanes held aloft in their hands, adding pew-pew-pew sound effects as they “shot” at each other. And a bored young woman leaned against a bookshelf staring down at her cell phone, rather lackadaisically tapping its screen with her thumb.
As I stared around at the chaos, a terrible premonition caught. I’d twice been granted the “gift” of visions. First of Sam’s lonely flame slowly extinguishing itself, and then of Naimh recklessly immolating herself on her still-bright passion. With certainty, I knew who would take center stage in this current vision, and for the first time I felt true fear.
“Spirit,” I whispered. “Show me no more. Conduct me home.”
But my guide had yet to manifest in this place and no answer to my pleas was forthcoming. Had I been abandoned? I thought I heard a soft sigh off to my right drawing my attention. And there my gaze fell upon a girl sitting cross-legged in front of a plastic tea set along with three stuffed animals amidst the chaos.
Something in her nature called to me. Some echo I pondered as one of the pew-pew-pew boys entered her airspace and tripped over her before crashing onto the plastic tea set. When the little girl sat herself back up and burst into tears, the young woman against the bookshelf looked up from her phone, briefly scanned the room, and then returned her attention to the phone.
On impulse, I moved forward and crouched down next to the little girl, picking up her fallen tea set pieces and setting them back into place. I righted the teapot, set two teacups back onto their saucers, and placed a couple of plastic biscuits onto the big plate in the middle.
The little girl turned to look at me – really look at me – and I gave her a warmly reassuring smile.
She smiled back at me, and my heart stopped for a second.
I knew her face.
I knew her face.
Large, luminous, pale-green eyes. Delicate features. A peanut mouth. Strawberry-blonde hair.
She looked like Belle.
But not exactly like Belle.
Mother hadn’t brought me back to the distant past. The daycare woman’s cell phone was far too advanced. There was a flat-panel TV on the wall showing some animated cartoon. This was still a vision of the future, and deep within my very soul, I knew with absolute certainty that I was staring at Belle’s daughter.
“Hello there,” I greeted politely, although I didn’t extend my hand for a shake or anything like that. “I’m Matty. What’s your name?”
The girl stared up at me, pursing her lips into a tiny peanut shape again. She blinked slowly, her luminous pale-green eyes wide and expressive. And then she opened her mouth to speak.
“Mommy!” she exclaimed happily, staring straight over my shoulder with a beaming smile that could’ve illuminated half of North America.
I turned to look, and a rather haggard-looking young woman bustled into the room. She knelt down and opened her arms, and the little girl beside me quickly got up and scrambled right into her mommy’s tender embrace.
“Hey there, my little Gizmo,” Belle greeted, holding her daughter tight. Her left hand was visible, and I took note of the fact that she didn’t wear any rings. Her strawberry-blonde locks had been pulled into a functional ponytail and a headband, but there were several loose strands that puffed out haphazardly, and it looked like she’d done her hair quite hastily. No makeup adorned her elfin face, leaving visible the baggy dark circles under her eyes. She wore a bulky army-green jacket with red-plaid fleece lining over a navy-blue sweatshirt and high-waisted mom jeans. And the strap of the purse slung over her shoulder was held together with duct-tape around the buckle.
“Go home now?” the little girl replied questioningly, glancing back at the chaos of the classroom.
“Yes, we can go home early today,” Belle replied with forced cheer in her voice. “Would you like that?”
The little girl nodded solemnly, reaching to take her mommy’s hand as Belle stood up and led her past the closed lower-half of a Dutch door and into a small foyer for the daycare center where all of the children had hung up their jackets on low hooks along the wall.
But Belle and her daughter stood in front of the coat hooks, Belle frowning. “Where’s your jacket?”
The little girl blinked slowly, turning left and right as she scanned the row of jackets. She stepped forward, tugged a black jacket upwards and peeked underneath, perhaps expecting her jacket to be on that particular hook, but there was nothing there. And the little girl looked back at her mommy with moist eyes and a pouty frown.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Belle cursed, kneeling down to start lifting up all of the jackets one at a time and peek underneath.
“Ma’am, can you please watch your language around the children?” a matronly woman behind the counter warned sternly.
“I’ll fucking watch my language when you people stop fucking losing my kid’s fucking jacket!” Belle swore as she whirled in a huff. “This is the third time!”
The matronly woman leaned forward, took hold of her reading glasses, and lowered them so she could glower at Belle above the rims. “Ma’am, it’s printed in every contract that we cannot take responsibility for lost items.”
For a second, I saw the same rush of color filling Belle’s face that I’d already seen a thousand times, and I prepared to hear a verbal onslaught of righteous fury. But then all of a sudden the color vanished from my little pixie’s face, replaced by a gaping mouth, moist eyes, and a heartbreakingly helpless expression.
She looked defeated, and on instinct I reached forward to give her a reassuring hug…
… but my arms passed straight through her with all the solid consistency of a dehydrated cloud. And I watched powerlessly as my adorable Annabelle bowed her head, curled in her shoulders, and fought valiantly to keep from crying in front of her little girl.
Belle directed the energy of her frustration into physical action, turning around and spending the next five minutes futilely picking up and putting back every single coat on the hooks. And when her silently thorough search did not reveal her daughter’s jacket, she went down the row and did it all again.
Bowing her head, Belle shook her head and gave her daughter a sad look. “I’m sorry, Gizmo.”
“Somebody borrow?” the little girl asked plaintively, her developing palate pronouncing the word as bowwow.
“Maybe. Maybe somebody borrowed it. Maybe they’ll bring it back tomorrow.” Belle put on a hopeful expression for her daughter, but I could read the strain in her eyes that told me no one had ever returned a ‘borrowed’ jacket before.
“Me borrow?” the little girl asked.
“No, we can’t do that. I won’t let some other little boy or girl go home tonight without a jacket.”
The little girl solemnly nodded her head. Then she held her mommy’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
Belle smiled and scooped her daughter up in her arms, trapping the little girl against her hip within the confines of her own army-green jacket. She couldn’t zip the jacket closed, but she still bundled up her little girl against her side, and the adorable toddler set her strawberry-blonde head against her mommy’s shoulder.
“C’mon. Let’s go home,” Belle said encouragingly. She then opened the daycare center door and walked outside into a world seemingly filled with infinite white.
But it wasn’t an infinite white with no beginning and no end. This was a mere snowstorm, with flurries of snowflake crystals falling from the sky. I was suddenly chilled to the bone by the unexpected cold, and only then realized I was dressed in my pajama bottoms and a tank top, barefoot on the icy concrete sidewalk. We stood in what appeared to be a suburban strip-mall, with limited parking and two or three-story retail buildings all around.
Belle carried her little girl nestled within the comparative safety of her army-green jacket over to a beater Chevy Cavalier compact sedan with a large, scraping dent running the length of the passenger side across both doors. The rear passenger door itself was sticky, but she managed to yank it open and then buckle her daughter into the car seat. And when Belle circled back around to get in on the driver’s side, I realized that the license plate read New Jersey while all the other cars in the lot likewise had license plates from states in the Northeast.
The Chevy’s engine was reluctant to start, but eventually turned over with a cough and a sudden thrum. Belle shifted the car into gear and started backing out of her parking space.
Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.
****
I reappeared in the interior hallway of an upper floor in an apartment building.
I also appeared some sixteen inches above the hallway floor of that apartment building, but I did not yelp as I dropped like a rock and landed on both feet, my knees flexing to absorb the shock. I didn’t shoot Mother any smug grins, having learned that to do so would only invite new ways for her to needle me.
Thumping footsteps from the end of the hallway drew my attention, and I turned to see Belle and her little girl come up the stairs with bits of leftover snowflakes in their hair and across their shoulders. Mother didn’t move from her spot in the middle of the hallway, simply allowing the two strawberry blondes to pass through her ghostly presence. Out of habit, I stepped to the side to let the girls pass, and Belle’s little girl turned her head to smile at me and give me a little wave.
“Who are you waving to, Gizmo?” Belle asked her daughter while fishing her keys out from her purse.
The little girl shrugged and gave her mommy a blank look.
Belle smirked, focused on unlocking her apartment door, and then put her right shoulder into the door to get it unstuck and open up. She then took her daughter by the hand, led the little girl inside, and closed the door behind her.
I blinked and then realized I was inside the apartment. A tall, well-built, young man wearing gym shorts and a wife-beater tank top sauntered out of the only bedroom with a glazed, vacant, perhaps stoned expression on his face. A video gaming headset hung around his neck. His long hair was pulled back into a man-bun, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. He frowned as he looked at Belle and her daughter, muttering, “You’re home early.”
“I got fired,” Belle sighed wearily.
“You what?!?” He suddenly stood up straight, his vacant expression vanishing in an instant.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Belle insisted.
“Of course it wasn’t. It’s never your fault,” the guy barked disdainfully. “B, what the fuck? The rent’s due in three days!”
“They cut me a manual check.” Belle patted her purse. “We can make this month’s rent.”
“But what about next month’s rent?”
“Well you could try finding a job,” Belle spat scornfully. “Get off your ass, stop playing video games or masturbating to online videos, and start submitting some resumes!”
“I wouldn’t need to masturbate to online videos if my girlfriend would do her duty every once in a while.”
“Oh fuck you, Ollie.”
“Yes! Exactly! Fuck ME!” The boyfriend Ollie (Oliver?) gestured at himself. “Gawddammit B, if you weren’t the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever had, I’d never put up with your bullshit. So if I’m not getting laid, then what fucking incentive do I have to fucking stick around?”
“Oh go fuck yourself!”
“Didn’t you just tell me to STOP masturbating?”
“AAAAHHHH!!!” Belle suddenly screamed, throwing up both hands as her face purpled. And then she balled her fists up with barely restrained rage before glaring with searing hate at the man in front of her.
Belle’s little girl took several steps away from her mommy and clasped my hand. I looked down in surprise but squeezed her palm before squatting down. She hugged herself against my side while casting a dour look back at the squabbling grown-ups.
“You can’t blame me for you getting fired,” Ollie grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.
“No, but you could be a little more supportive after your girlfriend had a shitty day,” Belle muttered, shaking her head while shrugging out of her jacket and then tossing it over the armrest of the lone couch in the living room. “A normal boyfriend would do that.”
“Well maybe a normal boyfriend would be in a more supportive mood if his normal girlfriend put out every once in a while.”
“Well maybe a normal girlfriend would feel in the mood to put out for her normal boyfriend if her normal boyfriend brought home a fucking paycheck every once in a while!” Belle seethed. “How long have you been unemployed now? Five months?!?”
“It’s a tough economy right now! You know that!”
“I know you think you’re too good to work a regular day job just to keep the lights on. Go to fucking McDonald’s and flip burgers if you have to.”
“I’m not gonna fucking flip fucking burgers!” he shot back.
“Then -I- will!” Belle flung her hands out. “I’ll work a crummy job. I’ll do whatever I fucking have to in order to take care of my little girl. But if I’m out there working fast-food retail, you’ll have to watch Giselle. I won’t be able to pay for her day care anymore.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ollie groaned, shaking his head.
“No I’m not fucking kidding you.”
“No. I’m not doing it. No way.”
“Why NOT?” Belle spread her arms out and gave him a look of disbelief. “It’s not like you’re fucking doing anything ELSE productive all day?”
“I’m not doing it.”
“You LIKE Giselle.”
“Of course I do. Gizmo’s adorable.” Ollie gestured at the little girl, and by extension gestured right at me, but there was no recognition in his eyes about my presence. The little girl snuggled herself closer against my side as he returned his attention to her mommy. “But I still ain’t doin’ it.”
“Why NOT?”
“Because I am NOT fucking taking responsibility for some OTHER man’s kid!”
“Are you serious?” Belle gawked at her boyfriend in disbelief. With fire blazing from her eyes, she stalked forward as if she were ten feet tall, seeming to loom over the man nearly a foot taller than her. “-I- have stuck with you through thick and thin. Who floated your sorry ass for the last five months? Huh? Who keeps putting food on your plate and keeps this roof over your head? Who cleans this shitty apartment? And for what? To hear you complain I don’t suck your dick enough? To come home every day to find you wearing gym shorts and playing video games? FUCK!”
“Hey, I HAVE been sending out resumes.”
“Really? When was the last one? Go show me.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to show you?”
“Job-application websites send confirmation emails when you submit a resume, don’t they?” Belle stalked forward to hook Ollie’s elbow and start dragging him towards the bedroom. “C’mon. Let’s go over to your computer so you can show me.”
Ollie roughly yanked his arm out from Belle’s grasp and immediately backhanded her across the face. The pint-sized pixie spun around with the impact, her arms flailing out to the sides limply and unable to break her fall before she landed on her side hip-first.
“Mommy!” Giselle screamed and ran forward towards her fallen mother. And she wasn’t the only one who had immediately gone into motion.
I only needed two steps to reach Ollie, my right fist cocked behind my right ear. I planted all my weight on my left foot and launched myself forward, driving my fist straight at the side of Ollie’s head with the force of a 100-mph fastball…
… and then my fist passed straight through his head and extended out the other side.
Caught off-balance, I stumbled straight through Ollie’s body and out the other side, crashing into the wall that somehow managed to be solid enough to stop my presence. It took me a second to gather my bearings, and I turned around just in time to see little Giselle hugging her mommy’s moaning body on the floor while Ollie loomed over both of them with both of his fists balled.
Mother snapped her fingers, and the universe disappeared into infinite white.
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The next chapter will post on June 22nd. For anyone who can't wait, Beta Tier has the complete story.
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Comments
Blu Bran
Please tell me Matty fixes all of this, marries neevie, stays married to her, and is still close with everyone else…
Rick Shirer
Did he not learn the first time with the super boner pills that Sam gave him that crazy stuff happens as a side effect. This who ghost of Christmas past thing with his mom and the girls is not going to be good for his mental state when the "FOG" clears. He already had doubts about everyone, and now this happens. I hope the girls can deal with the possible repricusions of this.
