Four Days Later

Four days into this stalemate and we’d gotten nowhere. I stared at the unchanging sky through my sunglasses and waited. I wanted my exit how I wanted it. I’d taken enough journeys recently to earn myself a little space. Portal temper tantrum or no, I was going to get that exit.

The portal was unrelenting. Well you know what? So was I. And so was Maui.

“Right, Maui?”

Right, he said from his position by the rail. I’m getting a nice tan though so that’s a plus. When can we eat the goat?

“She said not yet.”

The goat got up and tried to headbutt Maui. I laughed. Maui laughed. The goat laughed. Anyway, it was hot.

England is dumb. Don’t go there.

“You’re just jealous.”

Damn straight, I am. All I’m saying is I didn’t need to carry a sword around night and day to prove my virility or whatever. This fight is stupid. Don’t go to England. Change course.

“Whose side are you on here?”

The goat’s.

I dug into the cabinet with my sewing stuff and threw an old button at him. We both laughed as it fell into the water making the first ripples I’d seen since the whale. The goat stared after the small piece of metal and plastic as it sunk down into the depths. It looked back at me and bleated. I flipped it off. It was just one stupid button. No need to cry over it.

I shouldn’t have thrown it. What if I needed it for my pants later and didn’t have a button? This is what happens when you make rash decisions. You throw away perfectly good buttons and now your pants are going to fall down when you least expect it.

I was really hot.

Like, really really hot.

The sound of Izzy trudging up the stairs lifted Maui and my spirits.

Oh perfect! I’m in time for the Izzy show! He clapped his hands giddily.

I grinned. Her matinee performances were my favorite. Occasionally she’d call in her understudies but Elizabeth and Catherine never put quite the same energy into their performances.

Izzy’s feet tackled the few steps with exaggerated angst. Today she stopped halfway up and provided a gorgeous entrance wail as the sun’s rays hit her fingertips. At last she mustered the strength and courage to inch her way to the top of her climb where she raised her face and her fists to the air and exclaimed, “Oh my god! It is unbearable up here!”

And with the last reserves of her mighty prowess she prostrated herself upon the port bench, wailing in the agony and pain of her mighty journey. From her fingertips, she held out her offering, a water bottle still slightly chilled with the dew from the cool water meeting the harsh sun and from the tears of her effort to bring such a precious gift all this long distance.

“I am dying,” she moaned, her words paid for with the precious oxygen she breathed in and out with such labor. 

“Anne, seriously. It is so hot. I can’t. I really and truly cannot.” She pounded the bench with her fists and cried dry tears. “It’s so hot! And we can’t even swim! I can’t even bake bread, Anne. This is agony! This is one of the circles of hell!”

She’s so pretty.

Izzy splayed out more and sobbed. One leg was splayed over the railing, an arm draped along the deck. She rolled her head my way like a zombie who wanted to eat my brains chilled over a scoop of ice cream.

Someone should paint her.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present for you today, my sister, Lady Isabelle “I raise money for people who live like this, I don’t live like this” Deveraux St. Germaine Covington. She was not built to withstand torture…or motels or continental breakfasts or dollar store laundry detergent.

“Keep it together, soldier,” I counseled her baked corpse. “We can win. We will win.” Her corpse flopped over in response with a moan of escaping air and ennui. “We will!” I shouted to the portal for good measure.

“Win? We are in an on-going stalemate with a supernatural entity, Anne! How can we win?” she cried.

It’s like sweaty beefy angels with slippery hands dropped her here from on high.

“A stupid petty, petty, petty! Supernatural entity. One who’s going to lose!” I don’t know why it was putting up such a fight about this location but it was a good location. A regular location. A location that should not cause this amount of petty bitchery!

Oh! Call on me! I know why! Me! Maui danced in his seat with his hand in the air. 

I laughed at the sight. It was great when old friends came to visit.

“You know, you’ve been up here for a long time. It’s an awful lot of sun exposure. Why don’t you come down for a few minutes and have some juice?”

“Goaty and I are sharing the shade,” I assured her.

You smell like a goat. Maui laughed.

So does your face.

We both laughed.

“Oh. That’s nice. So you don’t have heat stroke or anything?” Izzy tried to feel my forehead. The goat trotted over and I tried to feel its forehead.

You know, the ladies always thought I was hot enough to stroke alllll the things.

It was hot out here.

“Who can tell?” I batted her hands away. It was too hot for touching. I suspected I wasn’t feeling my ever best either. I took a sip of water and led the goat back to the shade. The reprieve from the sun was enough of a break for now. I lay down and Goaty laid down next to me. Izzy followed us to the stern.

“Okay, but seriously, we can’t go on like this. We have a baby on board, Anne!” And we had a goat and a teenager and a crabby first mate and a 21st century lady and a me.

“We will win. We will,” I assured her.

You always tell the best stories, Heeny.

“Are we going to survive all this winning?” she asked.

“Your goat is safe.” I patted the goat’s head. It shifted and put its head on my belly.

“None of us are safe. This sun is unrelenting,” she said from somewhere over my head.

“So am I. You want to see your husband?” I asked.

“Yes. Very much so. But–”

“No. No quarter. We will win,” I insisted. 

Izzy retreated below.

We would win. We had to. If I lost this fight, I lost everything. The portal was only waiting for a crack, a sliver, a rip in the seams binding our will together. Into that space it would wedge a lever and break us apart. We couldn’t break. We couldn’t budge. We must be a united front or we’d lose. This was too important a fight to lose. Izzy had to go to England and get her heart broken because she had to go home. Why was this causing such an issue? Why was the portal denying me this course?

Pick me! I know the answer! Pick me! Pick me!

“Yes, the handsome warrior in the front row.”

The portal has rules just like you do.

“I know.” So did the goat.

And rule number one? Protect the Heeny at all costs.

“Yeah right. Tell that to the megalodon it sent to bite my arm off that one time.” The goat bleated its agreement.

You really do tell the very best stories.