CHAPTER III
Wha...? Was that the door? No, no, oh yes, the phone. What time was it? 2:45. With a sudden start Sarah woke up completely. Calls in the wee hours of the morning spelled one thing only: disaster. She fumbled for the telephone somewhere in her shirt pocket on the floor and pushed the connect button. "Sarah Williams," she said, already out of bed and stumbling into her clothes strewn all over the floor. Three minutes later she sped out of her driveway and raced through the deserted streets, hoping to make it to the zoo without running over a policeman.
Sarah lost it when she saw the screaming mare. "I know you can't stand me, though believe me, Harper, that's nothing compared to what I think about you," she hissed into the zoo vet's pinched face, "but I would have thought even a lobotomized ass like you would feel some compassion for a creature in pain, or at least the stirring of some self-preservation. That horse has been in labor for nearly two hours, and they say her water broke over half hour ago. You have just killed a priceless foal because you don't like me. That will be coming back to bit you in the ass, I'll make sure of it. I will not let you hurt another animal. Ever. Again."
As she pushed the flustered vet out of her way, none too gently, she was already talking in a soft, hypnotic voice to the young Przewalski's mare lying on her side in the straw and moved her strong hands inquiringly over the birthing animal's extended belly.
"What the hell is this party in here anyway? Haven't you idiots heard that a birthing mare should be left alone? Now get this prick out of here and call Nancy in to help, right now," she barked over her shoulder at one of the distraught animal keepers crowding around. "And I want all of you out of here but for John." The exhausted mare went through another strong labor pain but seemed to lean into the soothing touch of the woman, its dun coat black with sweat. "Are you all sodding deaf? Out! I said. Now."
John told Sarah under his breath that the mare had violently fought off anyone who had tried to help her. The old animal keeper had been working in the zoo since Sarah had taken her first internship here, doing excellent work and pissing off a good many people in the process. He had come to admire and like her, but then he cared as little about bedside manners as the animals Sarah was looking after.
Without slowing her careful examination of the horse she quizzed the him about the specifics of the young horse's difficult delivery, when she suddenly drew in her breath sharply. "The foal is all turned, not even a breech, but really twisted in there. How the hell could even an idiot like Harper have missed that? And why isn't Cooper from the program here? I thought they found that the Przewalski's horses suffered from MRLS, that woman should be here for the birthing." The door opened and a young woman ran in.
"Nancy, I need you and John to help me with the birth. What is the little mare's name? Rumika? Whoever names those poor things should be shot," Sarah grumbled under her breath as she tore off her blouse at the sink in the corner of the animal birthing room and began to scrub her hands. She then proceeded to drench her arms in disinfectant, soaking her cotton undershirt in the process.
"John, I need you to hold her head down - she cannot get up under any circumstances, I need to try to turn the foal, and if she tries to move she'll tear my arm off."
As the animal keeper opened his mouth to protest, she talked right over his objections. "Rumika will be good, won't you my girl?" Sarah said softly as she gently moved her left hand over the silky nose of the mare. Both John and Nancy drew in their breath - anybody who tried to do that to a mare in distress could expect to loose their fingers. But never Sarah. Her presence alone seemed to calm even the most agitated and distraught animal. While Sarah gently soothed the horse's jaws, John sat carefully next to Rumika's head and put his hands on her head, stroking the sweaty fur. Most of the time Sarah's presence was enough to impart some sufferance on the people working with her, but it was always a good idea to be alert.
As Sarah kneeled behind the horse's hocks, she began giving Nancy directions in her most calming voice about what to check for as she slowly pushed her arm up the mare's birthing canal. While her gentle, calming tone was meant to still the horse, it also worked on the people around her. "I think I touched the foal's croup. Nancy, put your hands on Rumika's belly. Does the foal move? Can you feel where its head is?" Most of Sarah's arm was inside the mare when another labor pain hit, the massive contraction crushing the woman's arm. Sarah winced and bit her lip hard. That was going to be black and blue. Damn, this better went quick or there was no chance the foal would live. It probably was dead already, but at least the mare would live.
"There it is," cried Nancy, "the head is towards the croup I think."
As the contraction ebbed, Sarah pushed her arm further in and managed to find the leg of the foal - damn it, wrong leg. She needed the forelegs, slow now, move along the leg up, where the hell was that bloody chest, she was running out of arm here, and if ... oh god, here it is, yes, nose over the legs, careful now, very careful, it's lying wrong, pull here, slow so slow, please, forelegs here, head yes, there's the other one, shit, I forgot the cloth, can I cover the hooves with the hand? gotta try, the little one needs out, pull softly slowly, oh please, another contraction mashed Sarah's arm, but it pushed the foal where it needed to go, yes, feet down to Rumika's hind hooves, good, the head is rotating, now slowly, shoulders out, now straight out, careful, and with a final pull on the foal lay next to its mother. Sarah sat on the ground in a momentary daze while the foal wiggled its little body, snorting and whinnying low. As Sarah looked up, Nancy cleaned the foal's nose and muzzle to ensure its breathing while the mare relaxed on the straw.
"I didn't think the foal was alive still," John said to Sarah conversationally as he handed her a wet towel to clean herself. She was as sweaty as the horse and soaked in sticky liquid from the birthing, how long had it been? She'd lost track of time as she'd been fighting to save the foal.
"Well, I guess that foal's life is my birthday present," she said tiredly. "
By the time the guests come for the party tonight I will be wrecked. My only comfort is that you and Nancy will be in the same boat. And I will not accept any excuses, so you might want to get a touch of sleep sometime later." Sarah looked at the animal keepers with a smile. "Unfortunately our work here isn't done yet until Rumika has expelled the placenta, so let's get ready for an even longer night."
"And by the time the afterbirth comes you may even have realized that screaming at Doctor Harper is not the way to go," John told her.
"Screaming at that vicious bastard is the only way to go," said Sarah with an unpleasant grin.
"Never did you any good in the past, my girl."
"Maybe so, but this time I believe that Cooper woman is going to back me - he botched this birth so bad, she's going to have his head if she has a chance. She just needs some ammunition to prove he acted criminally stupid." Sarah smiled, cold and calculated. "I believe in sharing information."
Sarah didn't suffer fools gladly, never had, never would. Luckily she had realized even at a young age that while she might possibly have some talent at acting, she very definitely had a very low bullshit threshold. This pretty much put an end to her acting ambitions as it hadn't taken her long to realize that anything to do with acting was overrun with the kind of people that drove her crazy. She had tried, hard as she could try, but what could she do? Too many people who went into acting were just morons as far as she was concerned, and as time wore on and her interactions with other people extended her experience, she decided that most people were morons, period. It did not make her a popular girl, but she didn't give a damn.
Sarah knew she was pretty, boys liked slender girls with long hair, but she found herself quite unimpressed by the boys who felt she ought to be overjoyed to be asked out and then put out in gratitude. Lovely Sarah was asked out by the boys all the girls wanted to go out with, the good-looking, the cool and arrogant boys. She did not think so. Good looking? Boys, the lot of them, barely handsome compared to her memories of how beautiful a man could be. How could gelled hair compete with golden wisps of feathery hair standing on end as if alive with static electricity? Cool? What was cool about them? They all wore the same "cool" uniform of jeans and sloganed t-shirts and acted as if they knew the world, yet they were terrified of being really different and not accepted by the others. Arrogant? Hah, they couldn't have spelled the word. None of these boys as yet had anything to be arrogant about. She'd seen absolute confidence and arrogance, and she had the suspicion that the arrogance was based in a nearly realistic conviction of superiority. Not that she'd ever have admitted to it, for how would that make her look? Yet at barely seventeen Sarah Williams found herself in judgment over people, and she found most of them to be sadly lacking.
In the weeks after The Dream, Sarah had called out for her friends from the labyrinth again and again, had even wished herself away one night when life seemed especially boring, but there was never any sign that her memory held anything but the overheated imagination of an young girl not yet woman. She resolved never to tell about the labyrinth, for who would believe her anyway? Yet she held on to the hope it had truly happened. So what if she'd never be able to prove it? She figured she'd never be able to prove anything to do with quantum physics either, but that didn't make quantum physics a figment of her imagination. She decided that it did not matter. What really mattered was that her not quite thirteen hours in the labyrinth were true, whether they had actually happened or not. And so it went.
Within a year she had managed to earn the well-deserved reputation of a sarcastic bitch who seemed to think she was better than everyone else. Sarah knew she wasn't better, even though she did believe that she was smarter than a lot of them. However, she actually thought through the possible consequences of her behavior and did her best to understand what she truly wanted, and what wasn't that important. Only when she had come to a conclusion about this did she act to achieve the first, but avoid the latter. This was a concept largely unimaginable to her age group and made her even more an outsider than she had been. She felt she was done with acting on impulse and getting into trouble of her own making - whether The Dream had been just a mad hallucination or a frightening reality, she was not going to be that dumb again.
In her mind she had retraced her journey through the labyrinth again and again, and she couldn't help thinking the challenges hadn't really been that hard, and she'd been lucky to boot, to say nothing of the help that she had received. Her own fool stubbornness had likely helped her as much as her need to get Toby back - she had ever been driven as much by her anger as by desires, and the goblin king had needled her anger to a fine pitch, giving her the strength of her fury to keep going when she'd just wanted to sit down and cry. But at the core lay this: she'd brought the whole mess on herself.
So Sarah struggled through adolescence with eyes wide open and learned to see the kindness in people that were not popular, learned to ask for help from those who could give it when she needed it, and learned to use the drive of her anger to propel her towards the things she desired. She had few friends, but steadfast they were, like her not part of the popularity contest that was high school. She had come to love her step-mother, rather against her will in the beginning, because loving Karen meant admitting that Sarah had treated her wrong. Yet Karen did not care, happy as she was to let bygones be bygones - how could you hope to win over quickly a distraught teenage girl who wasn't Daddy's only sunshine any more and who suddenly had to share his affections with a baby brother? The odds were against it, and Karen believed in odds. And the odds also were that things would get better, and they did. Loving Toby was the easiest. A sister may be asked to babysit once in a while, but she does not bear the brunt of responsibility for the child, she can relish the joy of him, so loving an impish brother becomes easy, especially if this brother is a forever reminder of the one bit of magic your life has ever encountered.
"Not hard to see why you are a vet in an old Nissan, my girl, and not some hot-shot surgeon in a Porsche," John told Sarah over a cup of steaming coffee while they were relaxing after Rumika had discharged the placenta and now was busy to nicker and sniff her foal and then nicker and sniff some more, the foal whinnying in return. It was still an hour until sunrise.
"Because I don't give a damn?"
John laughed. "I have never heard you talk harshly to any animal, and heaven knows, that warthog you stitched up sometime last year deserved some serious dressing-down. That little bugger caused more damage than a runaway herd of buffaloes and you calmed him down like he was a crying babe. But people, bang and you blow up. Your bedside manners could use a little improvement, girl."
"Ah rubbish," Sarah laughed together with Nancy as she shook her not-so-threatening arm with the bruises already showing towards the old animal keeper. "I am perfectly nice to people unless they act so dumb as to be a menace. That warthog was a born gate breaker, couldn't help it if it was good at it. It meant not harm. Harper on the other hand is a self-aware bastard. He knew he should have called me two hours ago, he knows I calm the animals. He doesn't like me, fine, I don't care, but for heaven's sake, how can he wait until an animal is practically dying before he swallows his pride? He is the vet here, and welcome to it. I didn't even want his job, so why does he need to get into a pissing contest?" In anger Sarah's voice didn't rise but moved to the lower registers, deep, husky and scary.
"Now, girl, no need to spit at me. I know you don't want to work here full-time, but you also know they wouldn't have you even though you're the best. The beasts you are willing to give the benefit of the doubt. But with people you deal in absolutes, black or white, right or wrong. Ever given a thought to the possibility that the truth is in between?" John wasn't a man given to speeches, and Sarah valued his opinion.
She turned to Nancy with a grin: "See, Nancy, that's why I put up with him. Once you reach my advanced age the only person can call you 'girl' and mean it is a decrepit old man like John here."
Nancy protested "Come on, advanced age? I mean, you look really good ..."
Before she could finish Sarah cut her off with a deceptively sweet voice: "If you were going to say 'good for your age', prepare to die. I am so tired of people thinking it's a compliment to tell me that. I am 45, and this is what 45 looks like. Good, not just good for my age. I might have been prettier in my twenties, but I never felt it - never thin enough, pretty enough, good enough. Now I look in the mirror and finally I like what I see. I don't care about my grey hair, I can live with my wrinkles and I like my body. Only thing that is bothering me is gravity," and with an exaggerated sigh she elaborated when she saw Nancy's curious face: "You know what they say, don't you, Nancy? I still have everything I had at twenty, only lower." Sarah and John laughed at the look on Nancy's face.
"But you know what, John, I still think you are wrong. I admit that I might be a tad more accommodating sometimes, although it's a waste of time, most people consider me overpowering and a pain in the neck anyway, but Harper is just beyond the pale. You been here from the start, John, you know I didn't start out with him like today. But why would I give a damn about sweet-talking an ass like him when the guy is willing to compromise what's right for his petty grievances. I don't care if he insults me all day, but he knows I am good at what I do. And as for this sanctimonious 'the truth is in between', come on, John, you know I realize that. That warthog was an engine of destruction, no doubt, but it had not the foggiest what it was doing. Of course a lot of people wreak havoc without wanting to, or even realizing what their doing, but what is their excuse? We are not dumb animals, we make choices and we are responsible for the consequences of our actions. I always have to stifle the urge to strangle the next useless looser that tells me 'but I didn't want that to happen' or even better 'but I didn't know'. Well, do those idiots think their brain is for watching TV? I don't get angry at mistakes. Hell, I make enough of those myself. But why should I be so forgiving about mistakes that could have been avoided if anyone had actually bothered to use their brain?".
Before Sarah could elaborate further on a topic she obviously had a lot to say on, the door opened and Dolores Cooper from the Przewalski's horse breeding program stormed in. She was a usually impeccably put-together woman in her thirties, cool, collected and professional, the kind of look that Sarah had given up any hope of achieving over ten years ago. She did not pull off the look today. A purple bruise disfigured her left eye, her hair was put together in a disheveled pony tail and her pants and shirt looked as if they had been dragged out of a heap on the floor in the dark.
"How is Rumika," she asked in a low voice as she moved towards the mare and the foal in a slow, controlled gait. "I was on the way here when someone drove into me. It took a while 'til the police let me go and I could finally come."
Sarah walked up to her and addressed her with her best calm-the-beasts voice. "As you can see, Rumika and the foal are fine. I must say though, it was touch and go for a while. She was in distress for well over two hours and was very aggressive towards the animal keepers, but Harper still would not call me - that creep will do anything to keep me away. Pity you weren't here, it would have saved Rumika hours of pain and distress. John here finally went against Harper's direct orders and called me when her water broke." Dolores' face darkened as Sarah calmly outlined the evening's proceedings. Sarah never lied, she'd long decided she could not be bothered to remember all the complex specifics any lie engendered, but she didn't always say everything. And as everyone knows, how you frame a story matters as much as the truth of it. So, with an intonation here and an implication there, Sarah intentionally and carefully ended Dr Harper's career at the zoo.
/
The first guest were going to arrive within the next two hours and Sarah found herself slumped on the couch, too tired to get on with her preparations. She was grateful in her bones that Muriel's present had been the party itself - when she'd come home worn out after work everything had been prepared, the house clean and decorated, the fridge and pantry bulging with food, beer and wine in coolers, Three and Shuck all walked out and happily sleeping on the couch. With a groan Sarah threw herself onto the couch, pushing Three to the side to make some more space for herself. "Just a moment, I'll get up in a minute," she thought groggily. She woke up an indeterminable amount of time later with the warm bodies of the dogs nestled against her sides and Eek asleep in her lap. That nap had done her a world of good, and a quick glance at the clock told her why - she'd slept over an hour, and if she knew Rob and Brenda at all she'd better send Eek home before those two showed up early as they always did. A gentle touch woke Eek up immediately and he stretched as extensively as a cat if not as graceful, a maneuver that looked hilarious in a vaguely goatish-looking goblin.
"Happy birthday Sarra," he squeeked eagerly and wiggled into an upright position in her lap. It had taken several months, but through perseverance, dire threats, loud screaming, and huge amounts of hot chocolate in the way of rewards she had managed to convince Eek that he was welcome in her house whenever he was reasonably clean, and only then. Grimy hands, filthy clothes and stinky feet had cost him Sarah's hospitality often enough until he had finally resigned himself to only show up as neat as can be hoped for in a young child or a goblin. He pulled a carefully if lopsidedly wrapped present from the pocket of his power-rangers sweatshirt, another of his acquisitions from Sarah. "For Sarra, Eek get it for Sarra. Sarra like? Like?" he asked excitedly while Sarah had to stifle a laugh. Three and Shuck were looking at the present interestedly, Shuck using Eek's momentary distraction to thoroughly lick him eliciting shrieks of delight. Her campaign of goblin domestication had been a roaring success. She had made Eek feed her dogs special treats whenever he came, which occasionally had proven possible only after he first had his fill. But whether it was the blatant bribery or the realization that Eek was not a dangerous monster of a variety they'd never smelled before, the little goblin and her two dogs now got on famously. Affairs were not quite that happy with the other goblins as yet, but at least they all go on decently with only the occasional yelp from either party. Sarah had high hopes for the future.
Sarah was excited about what Eek might have got her. He had over the last year shown up with many little presents, all of which showed an appreciation for beauty that she had never expected. He would often bring her flowers the likes of which she had never seen before.
Once he came with a bunch of what he called Dragon-tongues, something like a grown-up version of snap-dragons, huge yellow-green flowers with a purple lower lip which kept dripping glowing sap that flared up in a black flame when it hit the surface. She ended up putting the vase on a huge serving platter that couldn't go up in flames like her tablecloth had, carefully keeping her hands away from the flowers as they had the nasty habit of trying to bite her.
Another time he had brought her two handfuls of Moon-tears, small, short stems with tiny milk-white flower buds that reminded her of gypsy weed. They had lasted one full moon-cycle, every night the flowers would open fully to show a multi-petaled flower face that looked as if had been created from the finest lace and glowed in a comforting silver light that made you think of all the good things in life. On the night of the full moon the flowers had begun to sing, in a piercingly high, sweet soprano choir that brought tears to Sarah's eyes, calling forth the memories of all she had loved and lost in her life, bringing her ghosts close enough for touch and smile, her father, Karen, Toby, Merlin one and two, friends who had died too young. She woke up the next day with her head on her arms on the dining table, her face sticky from dried tears and a smile on her lips that didn't leave for days.
And once, after she had send him away full of anger because he had broken a promise, Eek showed up in the middle of the night worse for wear, dripping wet, with twigs in his clothes and hair, blood on his finger tips and feet and scorch marks on his skin, to beg her forgiveness with an unearthly beautiful firebird tail feather, resplendent in vermilion and gold, shivering with magic. With nearly suicidal determination Eek had climbed up a cliff side to the Phoenix' roost and waited for the bird. He had proceeded to tear out a tail feather and hid it against his body under his t-shirt as he jumped out of the nest down the cliff, using to his advantage the near-indestructibility of goblins. Still it had been a close thing, the enraged phoenix screaming white-hot fire at the falling goblin, near engulfing him with the burning notes until Eek hit the water, safe at last.
Sometimes he brought pretty small stones he'd picked in the underground, striated in ways not found on earth, or the intricate shells of long-dead sea creatures that shone in an iridescent light unlike any Sarah had ever seen before.
But nothing had prepared her for this present. Sarah held the long necklace dangling off her hand before her eyes. She had never in her life seen anything as beautiful as this. While it was silver colored, it wasn't made of silver but of some material she didn't know - it had a matte, full shimmer that silver aspired to but never achieved. It felt alive in her grasp, warm and as if possessing a heartbeat of its own it nestled into her hand, a skillfully braided band of about one inch width with a smooth back. It was wrought by the most skillful craftsman to appear like so many twining plant stems winding around each other, with countless tiny shapely leaves growing out of the stems, minuscule phantasmagorical flowers blooming in the crevices. Sarah did not think that craftsmanship like this existed in her world.
She forced herself back to reality and looked at Eek inquiringly. "This is very lovely, Eek, but first I need you to tell me how you got this for me." Goblins were none to particular about the finer points of mine or yours, as she had discovered early. While she had been mostly successful in breaking this habit at least as far as her possessions were concerned, she didn't trust that they felt the restrictions on her property also applied to other people. To her surprise, Eek stood up to his full 30-inch height and spoke with great seriousness.
"Eek get necklace for Sarra, not belong anyone else ever, no steal. Sarra no like stealing Eek know. Promise I no steal. Pretty necklace for Sarra who love me." He was the most impressive Sarah had ever seen him, nothing even slightly ridiculous about his raggedy goblin-body, his eyes shining with love and sincerity. He immediately proceeded to erase that impression by beginning to jump up and down on her lap, his ears flopping and squeaking "Sarra like? Sarra like?"
Sarah could feel laughter bubbling up in her and she took the little goblin in a tight embrace, kissed him on the nose which made him sneeze and said in a voice choked up with emotion: "This is the most beautiful present I have ever received, Eek whom I love, thank you thank you thank you." With these words Sarah pulled the necklace over her head, where it began to shrink to fit perfectly around her neck, resting on her collarbones. It lay around her throat like a lover's hand, warm and comfortable, as if it was a part of herself.
"Listen Eek, I have to get ready for tonight's party, so you'll have to go home to the underground now, but you remember to tell the others that unless they have a bath and put on halfway clean clothes they will not be allowed to come to our party tomorrow evening." This was said in a stern voice, the goblins did need constant reminders to clean up." I have a special treat for you guys," Sarah shook her head as Eek excitedly pressed her for what it was going to be and said with a laugh: "Oh no, sweetie, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out, and I most certainly are not telling you beforehand. It would ruin the surprise." The little goblin looked as if he didn't much care about surprises, but he knew that nothing he said would change her mind. He'd tried before, but Sarah was as unmovable as the king himself once she'd made up her mind, and trying to get the king do something he didn't want, well, Eek didn't think it was possible.
"Your parties are always so much more fun than any other ones I get too," Nancy told Sarah as they stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at the crowd. Sarah's house was small, but at this occasion it was overflowing with people having a good time. The crowd extended all through the house, with the tub in the bathroom serving as supply center as it was filled with ice and beer and the other drinks set up around the wall. Laughter drifted in through the door to the porch from the crowd in the garden. People were milling by with plates filled with finger foods from the buffet in the dining room. As far as they could make out some attempts at dancing were made in the living room, although Sarah felt it rather looked like a bunch of people having epileptic fits in the upright. It was clear that ballroom dancing was dead.
"You will have to thank Muriel for this one," Sarah said touching Muriel's arm. "She must have spent the whole day getting my place ready."
"Hey, it's not everyday that your best friend since high school gets to be 45 and actually allows you to do something for her," giggled the tiny woman next to Sarah. They had met when Sarah searched for someone to teach her contact juggling after The Dream and found Muriel whose parents were circus people, Muriel who traveled and performed with her parents when school wasn't in session. Sarah had thrown herself into perfecting the fine art of manipulating the crystal balls as if by magic, and she had gotten as good as she was ever going to be without actual magic at her disposal. "And if you need to know the secret to a great party," Muriel lowered her voice conspiratorially, "just make sure to invite a lot of really interesting people with completely different backgrounds. Sarah's been a collector of those all her life. She likes new people and new things."
"I am not very good at doing new things," Nancy admitted sheepishly while she sipped her wine. "I always want to, but then there is too much to do every day, and I just never get around to anything."
"Such a pity," Sarah smirked at her young friend. "Really, you should make an effort to try out new things. You are missing out on some of life's great disappointments." Over the laughter of the other people in the circle Sarah kept going: "There is nothing inherently great about new things, you know, Nancy. Only reason I keep doing new things is that I have the attention span of a caffeinated chipmunk and get bored very easily, and I just don't need a lot of sleep. I simply have a lot of time on my hands and like to learn new stuff, so I keep doing things I haven't tried before. However, as bitter experience has taught me, a lot of things aren't worth doing even the first time around. On the other hand, I picked up a lot of completely useless skills over the years that have kept me entertained very successfully. And .. oops, excuse me guys, it would seem that John and Rob are at it again. Why those idiots don't just agree to disagree is beyond me," and with these words Sarah moved gracefully through the crowd, her dark curly head with a few silver strands bobbing up and down from the crowd like a seal's head though ocean waves.
In her wake her friends began a spirited discussion why the heck a smart, funny, curious and lovely woman like Sarah had never even begun dating again after her divorce from Rob over ten years ago. They agreed it could not be thwarted love, because while she obviously still loved Rob, it was just as obvious that they were only friends - even Brenda wasn't jealous or resentful, and she had been included in Sarah's wide circle of fiends when she and Rob had married, with not even a touch of rancor on Sarah's side for the woman who had taken her husband away. Muriel mentioned that Sarah was quite admired in their chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronism, but she kept turning down the advances of some of the most eligible men without a second thought. They all agreed that it was a waste.
"Well, it's all very well to say that we need to keep them in their natural environment, but what do you suggest, Rob? Should we look on as they die out while their habitats keep being destroyed? For heavens sake, man, what's wrong with the two-prong access? For the umpteenth time, why ... Oh hello, Sarah. Great party, as always. This crowd must be eating you out of house and home?" John hugged Sarah closely and looked her over appreciatively. "You're lucky, girl, if I was twenty years younger I'd make a play for you for sure. You get better-looking every year."
"It's all that character," Sarah said dryly. "I have character practically coming out of my ears. And I assume your deteriorating eyesight helps. But come on, you guys, how is this possible? Every bloody party and you end up arguing about the same topic. And you don't even disagree with each other where it matters, so what's the point? John, I hate to interrupt your love-fest with Rob, but somebody managed to ruin the last batch of barbecue - they are obviously in need of your superior skills in incinerating animal flesh."
With a laugh and a wink to Rob John turned to the bathroom to let the air out of his beer bottle and said over his shoulder: "Hey, we were just trying to instill a little passion into this party. Is it our fault that none of the people here have enough of an opinion to actually have disagreements? But hey, I know when I am one man too many, so I leave you two alone."
Laughing Rob turned to Sarah and embraced her in a bear-hug. "I have to agree with John, you look better with every passing year, love. But I still liked your hair better when it was long. These curls make you look so impish," he said with his deep, rough voice.
Sarah looked at her ex-husband with affection. A short, stocky and muscular man with dark-brown hair and eyes he was the most self-effacing and kind man Sarah had ever met. He had not a mean bone in his body and spent his life helping others. Since he was also a very smart man, he had been promoted head of the local social services years ago. "It just got to be too much, you know how long it took me to wash and dry all that hair. And I must say, I was pleasantly surprised when my short hair turned out curly - that horsehair mane of mine was obviously so heavy that it pulled out the curls. Thanks for the impish - I take that as a compliment."
As Sarah kept talking to Rob she thought for the millionth time that she sometimes missed the comfort of marriage, the companionship, the intimacy of caring. It wasn't the sex - while she had always liked it, she had realized early on that she just wasn't very exciting. The kind of sex that you read about and saw in movies didn't happen to women like her, she'd never been swept away and lost control in her life, no man had ever made her loose her hold on reality and made her feel like she was something wondrous.
She thought ruefully that this was true even for love. She had loved Rob when they married and still did, but she had never been in love with him, or any man. She had heard her friends tell about it, the shiver that would run down your arm when the one you were in love with touched you, the need to be near him, the incessant thinking about him, the joy his presence would bring. It was one thing she lacked, in a life filled with love, with friends, with joy, she had never loved anyone as a woman loved her man. So she could not fight for Rob once she realized that he had accidentally chanced upon love with Brenda, found something in the woman that she could never give him. She had long since come to terms with this, how could you miss what you never had when so many good things fill your life with pleasure and joy? As more friends joined her conversation with Rob, she felt a familiar joy course through her. How many people could look at their existence and feel that they had won the lottery of live? Sarah smiled. Life just couldn't be better.