The instant the elevator doors opened Sam ran through them, then sprinted across the lobby, skidding to a halt in front of the Check-in desk.
"Do you h-have any maps of the city?" she asked, slightly out of breath.
The clerk directed her to a nearby rack which held a variety of brochures and maps; and, after scanning it quickly, Sam grabbed one...
...and, a minute later, we emerged into hot August sunshine.
I watched in silence as she slouched back against one of the huge urns that flanked the hotel's wide front entrance, shook the voluminous map open, and then, head bowed, began staring at it intently...
...while I, leaning against the opposite urn, stared at her from across the cement walkway, feeling A) resentful and B) hopeful. After several minutes of being ignored, and now also feeling C) exasperated, I said, "Can you at least tell me-"
Without taking her eyes off the map, she held her hand up for silence...
...and grudgingly, yet promptly, I shut up.
I couldn't see what she was searching for, but from where I was standing it looked like the map contained a lot of tiny stars, each one denoting a landmark or business, and she seemed to be having trouble finding the one she wanted...
...and so, with no one to talk to and nothing else to focus on, my mind drifted back to resentment...
...and I soon found myself sulking again, because I wasn't currently rolling around in bed with her...
...the way we should have been!
Even though (thanks to the...events of the last half hour) I was no longer fully aroused, I was still being tormented by the persistent, dull-yet-deep, throbbing ache between my legs...and still very aware of how damp my panties were...
...while silently cursing myself for not stopping to change them before she had dragged me out of the hotel room...
...where I should be, right now, with her...
...enthusiastically taking care of both of our...needs!
And now, not only had she dragged me out here...she wouldn't even give me any details as to why she had! And, at this thought, my resentment shifted into high gear...
...demanding that I protest what was going on...
...insisting that I make her tell me, right then and there, what she was plotting...
...and, frustrated, I opened my mouth to complain...
...but, reconsidering, I soon shut it again...
...because, even though Sam's come up with some incredibly crazy ideas over the years...what if she really did know what she was doing this time? What if she really had figured out a way to end this curse? Still, despite this (remote) possibility, I absolutely refused to get my hopes up at that point, especially since I had no idea what currently going through her mind...
...and so, I was forced to reconcile myself to the fact that I really had no other option but to wait and see...
...and, as for the uh...horizontal entertainment, I consoled myself by vowing, right then and there, that we'd get to it soon...as soon as this...whatever it was...was over.
And so, doing my best to ignore what was going on inside my underpants...
...all of it...
...I turned my full attention to her...and waited in silence.
Finally, after what seemed forever, Sam refolded the map and shoved it into her back pocket...
...and, suddenly hopeful, I asked, "Now, can you tell me?"
Sam looked down at her watch, then back up at me, and shook her head, saying, "Later. Let's get moving...we have just enough time for lunch."
"Lunch?" I replied, equally dismayed and frustrated. "You said we were going to-"
At that moment, I forced myself to stop arguing...
...because it's a known fact that Sam operates best on a full stomach, so I realized that it definitely was in my best interest to let her eat first, before attempting...well, whatever the hell it was she was planning...
...and so, as she walked away from her urn, I followed her, silently and willingly, down the path.
Two minutes later, we'd turned into the city's main shopping street, and Sam immediately began sizing up each restaurant we passed with a critical eye; until, finally settling on one...
...she took my arm and turned to the right, leading me out of the stifling August heat...
...and into the cool, welcoming interior of The Anchor & Dolphin Pub.
Once our host had seated us in the back corner, Sam grabbed a couple of menus from the table's holder and held one out to me...
...but I shook my head.
"Just order for both of us," I directed, now anxious to dispense with the preliminaries as quickly as possible...so I could find out what the hell was going on.
She nodded agreeably and, after studying the menu for a minute or two, she decided on two large raspberry lemonades, and two platters of Fish & Chips.
The instant the waiter turned away, I looked across the table at her.
"Now, tell me!"
"Well..." she began...
...but then hesitated...
...and I rolled my eyes in exasperation.
"Come on, Sam, while we're young!" I demanded.
"Okay, okay!" she conceded; and then, leaning across the table herself, and lowering her voice...
...she told me.
"Have you completely lost your mind!" I yelled...
...immediately regretting it, as I saw that virtually every other customer in the dining room was now staring, astonished, in my direction.
"But-" she began.
"No!" I cut her off (while wisely lowering my voice), "it's absolutely out of the question! There's no way that could ever work...and besides, what about the...potential criminal consequences?"
"Come on!" she persisted. "It's not as bad as it sounds!"
"No, Sam. Absolutely not."
"But...but why?" she whined.
"Because, I don't want to spend the rest of our vacation in a prison cell!" I informed her...
...but, unsurprisingly, she wasn't about to give up.
"Carls, don't you want to end this curse?"
"You know I do!" I shot back.
"Well, then, what's the problem?"
"I don't need to spell it out for you; you already know the answer to that question!" I snapped.
"It'll be fast!" she assured me, eagerly, "A hit and run...I promise!"
"No, Sam. End of story."
"Fine," she replied. "After we're done eating, just head back to the hotel. I'll meet you there later."
"Wh-what do you mean, you'll 'm-meet me there, later?'" I asked nervously.
"I'm doing this, Carls...with you or without you."
"No!" I gasped. "You can't!"
"My mind is made up," she replied...
...with unnerving conviction.
"But...but..." I countered, wildly wracking my brain for any counter-argument...
...but failing to find one before she continued, "Sorry, Carls, but I'm going to...whether you'll help me or not. Somehow, we've been given this opportunity, and I refuse to pass it up. I started this...all of it; and, since I got us into this mess...and since there's now a chance to fix it-"
"B-but, it...it won't work!" I insisted.
"It will work."
"You don't know...how do you know?" I demanded.
"I...I just know it will," she replied.
"But it...doesn't make any logical sense!" I pointed out.
"From the very beginning, has any of this made any sense?" she demanded. "Any of it? Has it?"
I didn't answer...and dead silence hung between us, like an impenetrable shroud...
...for nearly a minute.
"Has it, Carls?" she asked, again, this time much more gently.
"Well no," I admitted.
"Come on," she urged, "we're only looking at two minutes...three minutes, tops, if you'll help me."
"I...I-"
"Look at it this way," she continued, "it's not like we're going to hurt any-"
"Okay okay!" I agreed. "I'll go with you...but I'm only going to be there to lend moral support...even though there's absolutely nothing moral about any of this...and to try to keep any mayhem you're planning to cause to a minimum."
"You mean any mayhem that we cause," she corrected.
"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" I sighed.
"You know why...because I'm irresistible...and speaking of irresistible," she added...
...nodding toward our waiter, who was approaching, balancing our food on his tray.
Due to my awareness of the shameful depths of depravity I was about to sink to, I didn't have much of an appetite at that point, so, instead of tearing into my food-as delicious as it looked-I just sat there toying with it.
Sam noticed.
"Don't you think you'll perform better on a full stomach?" she asked
"No," I replied, "it'll just weigh me down, while I'm fleeing the scene of the crime!"
Sam smiled in amusement, saying, "Come on, it's not going to be that bad...there won't be any real harm done."
In a way, I realized that she was right...
...up to a point...
...but still, I was far too stubborn to admit that to her, so instead I asked, "What if it doesn't work?"
"What if it would have," she countered, "...and we never tried it?"
I hesitated. As loathe as I was to join her in this...escapade...I also didn't want to spend the rest of my life this way...
...living in non-stop fear...
...and, what if she really was right? What if we were about to un-curse ourselves...
...forever? So, as much as I didn't want to, and as utterly wrong as it seemed from a moral perspective, it also seemed absolutely insane to pass this opportunity up; and so, I replied with a resigned sigh, "Okay, I guess I...I'll...I'll do it."
After hearing this announcement, Sam leaned across the table, and looked deeply into my eyes.
"Just think, Carls, a couple of hours from now we could be 100% curse-free, and then everything will be okay...everything!" she said eagerly...
...and something about the expression on her face...
...so unselfish, and so full of hope...
...made me realize that, even though this was far from being a sure thing, it was at least a chance to free Sam from her own, self-created prison...
...the non-stop self-loathing that she now carried around, and which was eating her up inside...
...which was solely caused and perpetuated by the pain of knowing what she'd done to me when she had started this unfortunate chain of events.
And so, because I love her so much, I caved in...
...completely...
...and, reaching across the table, I took her hand in mine.
"Sam, I'll...do it."
"You will?"
"Y-yes. All of it. I promise," I assured her...
...and, at this, she smiled broadly, all traces of her morning's angst now completely gone...
...and then, to my surprise...
...and elation...
...she turned her hand upward, until her palm was against mine, and then curled her fingers around my own...
...and, at that moment, I felt my own angst vanish. What if she really was right about all of this?
What if it really did work?
No more curse?
No more worrying, every single minute for the rest of our lives, that one thoughtless sentence might destroy us...forever?
And now, since she was so adamantly confident about this plan...there might actually be hope after all! And, between this realization...
...and the way that Sam was now smiling at me...
...while holding onto my hand...in a public place...not even caring if anyone was watching...
...suddenly, my appetite came roaring back...
...and I ruthlessly attacked my fish & chips...
...even finding room afterward to join Sam in dessert.
Speaking of Sam, I noticed that she was tearing through her food even faster than usual...and that's saying something.
"Slow down!" I admonished her. "You're going too fast!"
Looking up from her chocolate truffle cake, she mumbled, her mouth full, "Who are you...the pastry police?"
"No, it's just that you said we weren't going to...to do this until two o'clock," I reminded her.
"That's right," she confirmed.
"Then why the rush? It's just past twelve now," I pointed out.
"Well, yeah," she admitted, "but we need finish up here as soon as possible."
"Why?"
"Because," she said pointedly, "we still need to finish plotting our strategy...and to rehearse."
Minutes later, she'd flagged our waiter down and requested the check; and, after I'd paid (despite Sam's protests) and left the tip, we got up and hurried toward the exit. Once outside, she had another fast look at her map, and then-with her leading the way-we walked south for four blocks, turned a corner, and then walked another two blocks, ending up at a large public park.
Despite being the middle of lunch hour on a work day, the place was sparsely populated (no complaints here, considering why we were there(!); and, after pulling me down next to her on a bench, under the welcoming shade of a large tree, San turned to me and began drilling me with endless directions...
...all of which I had to repeat back to her, word for word, over and over again.
"Sam, come on! " I yelled after our seventh run-through. "I know what to do now!"
"Sorry, Cupcake, but I'm not taking any chances on this," she answered grimly. "We're only going to have one shot at doing this right...well, at doing it at all, actually."
"Okay okay," I consented (grudgingly), "let's go over it again!"
After a fast glance at her watch, Sam announced that we still had time well in hand; and so we did go through it again...
...at least seven more times...until, finally, she announced, "Not bad...but remember...just like we rehearsed, Carls, with absolutely no improvis-"
"Improvising?" I shouted. "Are you crazy! That's the last thing I'd do...because I don't want to end up in the slammer! Speaking of which," I added, nervously, while grabbing onto her arm, "wh-what if there are w-witnesses?"
Sam shook her head.
"I doubt there will be many; because it's located on a side street, way down in the middle of the block," she explained.
Even though that still sounded way too risky for my liking, I nodded nonetheless.
"Okay," Sam stated stoically, while getting to her feet. "No matter what happens-crap! I just thought of something! We each need an alias."
"Why?" I asked naively.
She rolled her eyes, stating, "Well, we can't use our real names!"
Realizing she was right, I said, "All right. I...I'll be...uh, I'll be...Valerie."
She nodded approvingly, then stated, "Okay...and I'll be...Spike."
"Oh, no you won't!" I shot back.
"Well, how about Rocky?" she offered.
"Absolutely not!"
She frowned.
"What's wrong, Carls, too butch for you?"
"Well, yeah, but what's worse is they make you sound like a bully; and that's just asking for trouble!"
She looked down at me in disgust, stating, "Well, if you think I'm going to go for some sissy name, like Priscilla, you can forget-"
Suddenly, she stopped speaking, and her head swiveled to the left...
...and I followed her line of vision, to a spot about twenty feet up the path...
...where a young woman was sitting on a bench, struggling in the bright sunlight to read something on her Scamazon Kendall.
"That's it," Sam announced, "I'll be Kendall; is that girly enough for you?"
"Well, okay...yes, it's actually a very nice name," I concluded.
Suddenly, I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder...
...and, turning back, I raised my eyes to hers.
"Carls, let's go," she announced. "Now remember, timing is everything, so we get in; we get un-cursed; we get the hell out of there...got it?"
"Got it!" I answered, suddenly feeling (thanks to all our preparation) a surge of confidence...and, determinedly, I jumped to my feet and stuck my chin out resolutely.
Seconds later, Sam turned to me, asking, "Are you ready?"
"Yes!" I confirmed...
...and then, bravely and boldly, the two of us marched out of the park.
After turning onto the main shopping street and walking for seven blocks, Sam suddenly stopped at the corner...and looked at me...
...and then looked and pointed down the side street...
...and then looked back at me...
...and nodded...
...and that's when it hit me: This was it. There could be no turning back now...
...and at that moment, all of the bravado I'd cultivated back in the park evaporated on the spot.
But still, as desperately as I wanted to run straight back to the hotel and hide under our bed, until all of this had blown over, I also knew that it was absolutely out of the question. I had to be there to support Sam; and what if, after all, she was right? What if, despite being way beyond crazy, this plan really did work?
Sam was staring intently at her watch.
"Eight minutes to go. Still with me on this?" she asked...
...and, even though I absolutely did not want to, I nodded...
...and then, turning away from Sam...
…I looked up Raleigh Avenue, where our soon-to-be-revealed fate awaited.
Suddenly, both of Sam's hands were on my shoulders.
I put up no struggle as she turned me around to face her.
"All right, let's do this," she said, determinedly...
...and then, without giving me a chance to respond...
...or to retreat...
she took my left hand in her right one, then turned and led me (still unresisting) up the attractive, tree-lined street.
This neighborhood was clearly residential, and at first I thought that perhaps Sam had made a mistake; but then, as we approached the center of the block, there it was, twenty feet ahead of us...
...a lone business, housed in a 3-story, glass-fronted building that was standing, inexplicably, amid all of the single-family homes that lined both sides of the street.
At that moment, I knew that Sam saw it, too...
...because, seconds later, she took hold of my arm and steered me over to the opposite side of the street...
...bringing us both to a halt at a bus stop, which was located in front of a charming, Dutch Colonial house...
...almost directly across from our intended target.
Immediately, Sam leaned non-chalantly against the sign post...
...feigning boredom...
...while I, now way past paranoid, was looking wildly (and guiltily) in all directions...
...until she snapped, "Carls! Be cool or someone's gonna see us and get suspicious."
Now breathing raggedly, I forced myself to look only on her face, focusing on it as hard as I could, while she continued, "Okay, wait here. I'm gonna go over there and do a little...recon."
"N-no!" I gasped. "Not b-by yourself!"
"Be right back," she answered, ignoring me completely and heading across the street.
My heart pounding, I grabbed onto the bus stop post tightly with both hands, watching, breathless, as she sauntered-casually, yet purposefully-past the building in question, sizing up its interior (out of the corner of her eye) through its wide plate glass front windows; then, she turned around and walked past it again, just as slowly; finally crossing the street with a satisfied expression on her face.
"It all checks out, Carls. Now, you go and see for yourself."
"N-no! I can't do this!" I gasped, tightening my already-white-knuckle grip on the bus stop sign post.
"Okay, then...on your way," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "I'll see you back at the hotel."
"Sam, please! Please don't do this...it's way too risk-"
"I already told you, I'm doing it...alone if necessary," she replied...with unnerving calmness.
"N-no...no wait! I...I have a better idea!" I said, suddenly inspired. "On Friday, just as soon as we get back to Seattle, and right after I've finished settling things with Grandad, y-you and I can just walk over to-"
"Are you crazy!" she cut me off.
It wasn't really a question.
Letting go of the sign post, I reached over and grabbed her arm, saying, "But...but that'll be just as good as-"
"No," she said, shaking my hand off, "and you have to be out of your mind. Friday's five days from now, and now that we have this wish of yours hanging over our heads...in addition to the curse, there's no way we can wait that long."
"But-"
"No, Carls...think of all that can go wrong in the next five days!"
"Think of all that can go wrong in the next five minutes!" I shot back.
"Five more days!" she repeated, "Can you risk waiting five more days?"
Suddenly, I came to my senses...
...and, realizing that she was absolutely right about this, I admitted, "N-no, Sam...it can't wait."
She exhaled audibly, obviously relieved, then, taking a step forward, she looked directly into my eyes and said, in a low voice, "Finally! You're finally getting how serious all of this is. Now, get your ass across the street, and check the whole thing out for yourself...but don't be obvious about it."
I opened my mouth to protest...
...one last time...
...but, sensing my apprehension, she swung her arm out and pointed...
...jamming her finger violently in the direction of where I'd been ordered to go...
...and, silently conceding defeat, I obediently turned away from her, and crossed the street...
...on very unsteady legs...
...and then, after taking a deep, shaky breath, and while doing my best not to seem conspicuous, I walked, slowly and deliberately past our destination, first in one direction, then in the other; checking things out carefully, yet stealthily...
...and then, stunned, I joined Sam back at the bus stop.
"See?" she said.
"Okay," I conceded, "I have to admit that it is way beyond uncanny, but still-"
Sam glanced at her watch.
"Alright, Carls, this is it," she interrupted. "Just like we planned, word-for-word. We get in, we get uncursed-"
"You hope," I interjected.
She ignored me, adding, "...and then we get out...immediately. Fortunately, the front door is propped open; which will make our escape that much easier."
And then, not giving me even a second to reconsider...
...or to rebel further...
...she took my arm and led me across the street.
As I stood, heart hammering, a mere five feet off to one side of the building, Sam turned to me.
"You remember it...all of it?" she asked.
"Of course I do, Sam."
"No! Not Sam...Kendall, remember?" she corrected me.
I nodded.
Sam smiled grimly.
"Come on, Valerie, make me proud," she said...
...and then, without giving me time to assure her that I would, she took hold of my wrist firmly...
...and propelled me forward...
...and then, turning to the left, she led me through the open front door...
...of Benson's Computer Repair Shop.
Parking me (as planned) just inside the entrance, Sam marched boldly up to the counter, located at the rear of the shop...
...while I, picturing how hideous I was soon going to look in an orange prison jumpsuit, busied myself with pretending to browse a nearby display of cell phones (which the shop also sold); while keeping a very close eye on Sam, who was standing behind a woman who was talking to the owner.
"I'm sure this will fit your sister's laptop," he said, sliding a navy blue, canvas tote into a white plastic shopping bag. "It's the largest one we carry."
The customer nodded, satisfied, and then handed him her credit card, while I, growing more and more panicky by the minute, forced myself to not look over at the nearby, invitingly-open front door...
...which was calling to me in a most insistent way.
Finally, the transaction was complete and the lady, picking her bag up off the counter, walked past me, without a glance, and then headed out of the shop...
...and the second she had disappeared from view, Sam stepped up to the counter.
"Hi!" she said.
"Well, hello again," he replied, then checked his watch and added with a smile, "You're right on time."
He then glanced down at her hands, and, seeing that they were empty, he walked around to the front of the counter, asking, "It was too heavy for you to carry in?" That's okay, just show me where you're parked, and I'll bring it in mysel-"
And at that moment, as I stood, watching and waiting (with my heart in my throat), Sam gave the signal...
...by reaching her left hand behind her back and snapping her fingers...
...and, right on cue, and still standing near the door, I yelled, "Uncle Frank!"
His eyes left Sam's and, now looking straight at me (and very confusedly), he said, "Excuse me?"
"It is you!" I exclaimed. "Uncle Frank! After we moved, I...I never thought I'd find you again! How many years has it been?"
"Uh, I'm sorry, Miss, but you're mistaken," he replied, shaking his head, "...I'm an only child, so I don't have any nieces...uh...uh..."
"Valerie!" I declared. "Your niece, Valerie! I don't blame you for not remembering me, though; after all, I was only four when we...oh, you look wonderful! And just as handsome as I remember!" I gushed.
And then, knowing that there was nothing else to do...
...except to finish what I'd started...
...and throwing every last shred of caution (and self-respect) to the four winds...
...I ran, at top speed, toward the rear of the shop...where he stood...
...rooted to the spot and staring at me in astonishment...
...the man who looked so much like Freddie and the Bonsen Shaman that he could have been their father...
...and then, smiling up at him...
...I threw my arms around him, pinning his own arms to his sides...and held on as hard as I could, while yelling, "It's so wonderful to see you ag-I've got him, Kendall! I've got him!"
"What are you doing, I don't have any nieces or neph-hey! Let me go!" he yelled...
...as Sam's hand shot forward, between my face and his neck, then grabbed onto his shirt collar, and, yanking downward, forced him to bend forward...
...and that's when he really started to struggle...
...while Sam, clapping her hands onto either side of his head, looked over at me...
...while I whipped my face to the left, staring directly into her eyes...
...as she, still with a death grip on his head, said loudly, "I wish, for your sake only, that you'll be free of this curse...forever!"
"Curse? What are you do-Let me go!" he yelled.
At that instant, she did...
...her hands leaving his head...
...but a second later she was wrapping both of her arms around his shoulders, at mid-bicep level, just above my own arms...
...as she yelled, "Now, Valerie! Now!"
"The money's in the register...don't hurt me!" he begged...
...as I, stepping quickly behind him, grabbed onto both sides of his head...
...as hard as I could...
...and, looking over his right shoulder at Sam, I clamped my eyes onto hers and said, "I wish, for your sake only, that you'll be free of this curse...forever!"
Just as a voice behind me...
...a distinctly female one, shouted, "What the hell is going on here!"
And I spun around to see a stunned woman, obviously his wife, standing a mere six or seven feet behind me, in the doorway leading to the back room, from which she'd just emerged...
...and, taking her sudden appearance as our definite cue to leave, I let go of his head, grabbed onto Sam's left arm, yelled, "Great to see you again, Uncle Frank...gotta go!" and then we both ran, like maniacs, toward the front of the shop...
...or, more specifically, toward its open front door...
...as I heard her demand, "Uncle? A likely story! You said you're an only child...so, who were those...those floozies? I want answers, Frank Benson, and I want them now...or else!"
What 'or else' meant, I never found out...
...since I was, with her words still ringing in my ears, now sprinting up the street at breakneck speed, reassured (slightly) by the sound of Sam's feet pounding the sidewalk behind me...
...as I ran, on and on, with absolutely no idea where I was going...
...turning corner after corner, conscious only of the desperate necessity to put as much distance as I could between the crime scene and myself...
...passing countless, blurry homes...until, after seven or eight blocks, we turned another corner, and I saw that we were back on the main shopping street...
...and, now way past winded, I lurched to a halt, and bent over, hands on knees.
Sam, however, still wasn't satisfied, and, grabbing onto my wrist, she dragged me halfway up the block, and then, turning to her right, down the alleyway between a hardware store and a bike shop, all the way to its end...
...where, confronted with a wide brick wall, we were forced to stop. Pulling me over behind a large, filthy dumpster, she leaned forward, gasping for breath...
...while I did the same.
"Oh, God...never again!" I said, as soon as I was able to speak. "Note to self: Never be seen anywhere near Raleigh Avenue...ever again!"
"C-carls, you were fantastic!" she gasped.
"S-s-so were...you!" I wheezed.
"It went off exactly as we planned it!" she added enthusiastically.
"Yes, it all ended perfectly," I replied with a smile...
...but then, still struggling to breathe, she stood up and looked at me...
...obviously confused.
"Ended? It's not over yet," she said.
"Wh-what do you mean," I asked, still breathing heavily.
"Don't you see, Carls?" she answered. "We still have to test it out."
"Test it out?" I gasped. "Y-you're kidding...right?"
"Of course not," she replied, now finally able to stand up straight. "We have to test it out now...I mean, how else are we gonna know if it worked?"
"No way, Sam! I...I have no interest in tempting fate!" I informed her...in no uncertain terms.
"Would you rather be unpleasantly surprised, later...like we have so many times before?" she countered.
"Of course not!"
"Well, then, you have to realize that we have no other option," she concluded. "We have to test it out...ASAP."
At this pronouncement, I fell back against the sun-warmed brick wall; however, it's broad, solid surface seemed to provide very little reassurance or support, as I said, "But..."
She reached over and laid a hand on my arm, stating, "We'll just wish for something unselfish."
After thinking this over, very carefully, for a couple of minutes...it dawned on me that she did (sort of) have a legitimate point.
"Well...o-kay," I finally conceded. "I...I guess we could try out some small, unselfish...safe thing. I could wish something like...like...I know! That you'll find twenty dollars on the sidewalk!"
"No, Carls," she replied with a frown, "that's not nearly enough."
"Fifty dollars?"
She shook her head, explaining, "You're missing the point. What I meant to say is that...the only way to really know if it worked or not, is that the wish has to be huge...huge and risky."
"No!" I snapped. "There's no way I'm going to wish something horrible on you!"
"What if it works...and there's no curse anymore?"
"What if it doesn't?" I shot back.
"Come on, Carls."
"No!" I shouted, crossing my arms defiantly. "I'm not wishing something huge and horrible on you...and nothing you say or do will make me change my mind...ever!"
She sighed, then said, "All right, then; I'll just wish it on myself."
"No, you won't!" I informed her.
Taking a step closer, she looked into my eyes and asked, calmly, "How are you going to stop me?"
To this, I had no answer.
It was true. I'm not a mind reader, so there's no way I'd ever be able to anticipate, and therefore stop, her from wishing...for anything...
...but still, one thing that I did know was that she needed to give the idea up.
Right now.
"I...I know I can't stop you, but Sam...please!" I begged. "Please don't do this! The whole point of what we just did was to free ourselves from this curse, not to make things worse!"
"I can't wait on this, Carls," she replied. "I can't live my life this way any longer. I have to know...right now."
"Well...if...but-" I began.
"So, are you going to be there with me...for moral support?" she interrupted, then added, "If you can't, I understan-"
"No! I...I'll be there, it's just that...I don't want anything bad to happen to you!" I said quickly...
...and, now realizing that I'd failed to persuade her, and now also way beyond scared, I threw my arms around her.
Seconds later, I felt her own arms wrapping around my back, but at that moment I was too distraught to enjoy being in her embrace...
...even though we were in a romantic, scenic, trash-strewn back alley...behind a smelly dumpster!
Instead, I rested my head on her shoulder, and she pulled me closer, and we stood there, unmoving, for the longest time...
...until finally, tilting her head forward, she took a deep breath...
...and, with her mouth near my ear, she told me, in detail, what she was planning to do...
...and five minutes later, she was marching resolutely up the front path of our hotel, with me grabbing onto her wrist, trying desperately to hold her back.
Ten feet from the entrance, I managed to pull her off balance, and she spun around to face me.
"Come on!" she said, clearly annoyed. "You just said that you understand what I'm about to do...and why!"
"B-but...but-"
"No, Carls. My mind is made up."
"But-"
She glanced at her watch.
"Come on, stop wasting time! You know that it's only tea time until four...and that we need an excuse to be in the lobby for that long."
And then, before I could come up with a valid...well, with any excuse...
...she had wrapped an arm around my shoulders and was leading me through the front door...
...and into the lobby...
...where, as she'd just stated, afternoon tea was being served.
A sweeping glance around the cathedral-like room quickly confirmed that there were going to be waaay tooo maaany witnesses for my liking; since there must have been fifty or sixty people sitting, here and there, at its many tables, enjoying small talk and pastries.
Sam surveyed the scene for a moment, then nodded approvingly.
"Uh, I think we're supposed to seat ourselves," she announced...
...and then led me over to a table, about fifteen feet from the Check-in counter.
As for me, I was way too nervous to even think about food at that point, but Sam's appetite was still intact, so, when our waiter approached she ordered us a pot of House Blend and a large plate of Madeleines.
Heart pounding, I sank down into my seat, until my chin was nearly level with the tabletop, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible; but Sam was leaning forward in hers, scanning the room eagerly, apparently already sizing up possible targets. Five minutes later, however, she was distracted by the tea and cakes that had just been set in front of her.
"Man, I should have ordered us iced tea instead of hot, because then we could drink it that much faster," she observed a minute later, gasping and spluttering as it stung her mouth.
"Well," I pointed out sagely, "the whole point of afternoon tea is to linger...and to enjoy...and to savor-"
"Yeah, whatever," she answered dismissively, taking another long, noisy slurp from her delicate, blue and white china cup, and then attacking the Madeleines.
"Oh, God...these are sooo good!" she mumbled, her mouth full...
...while I bit back the sarcastic reply that she might as well enjoy them...since she definitely wouldn't find anything like them on the menu of where she was very likely headed.
All too soon, both the plate and the pot were empty, and Sam leaned back in her chair...
...while I slid down in mine again...
...watching as she began to survey the other people in the lobby in earnest...
...waiting to find just the right one.
We didn't have to wait for long.
Less than five minutes later, she had zeroed in on her prey.
"Him," she said...nodding to a dark haired, very well dressed man, wearing an obviously expensive beige linen suit, who was approaching the front desk. "Him...and that!" she added, pointing down toward his right hand.
Craning my neck, I looked...
...and almost fell off my chair.
Whipping my head around to face her, I said (as loudly as I dared), "Sam you're crazy! That's a Limited Edition Paul Stewart umbrella! They retail for over three hundred dollars! It's way, way too risky!"
"Exactly," she replied, with infuriating calmness. "How else are we gonna know?"
Seconds later, her target had reached the front desk and was saying to the clerk (not the one who'd checked us in yesterday), "Robert Jastro...in Room 318...are there any messages for me?"
"Did you hear that?" I hissed. "He's already staying here in the hotel! It's way too risky!"
"Would you rather continue living in fear, Carls...not knowing if...or when...disaster is gonna strike?" she asked.
And then, before I could even attempt an answer...
...or attempt to stop her...
...she stared straight ahead, and, focusing intently on her own words, she said, "There's nothing I hate more than run-ins with the police...and so, I wish that...in the next twenty minutes, that...I'm going to get arrested! There...that was unselfish enough...right?" she asked eagerly...
...but instead of answering (because I knew what was coming next), I buried my face in my hands...
...but removed them seconds later...
...as Sam yelled, at the top of her lungs, "Hey! Hey you!"
As expected, a profound hush fell over the entire lobby...
...and, predictably, all heads turned in our direction...
...as Sam jumped to her feet, flung her napkin onto the floor indignantly and, marching straight up to the front desk, and over to where her victim was standing...
...she snatched the umbrella from his hand...
...while yelling, "Gimme that!"
And then, while looking up and into his eyes, with the most condescending expression I've ever witnessed anywhere, she sneered (loudly), "And what are you gonna do about it?"
Not giving him an opportunity to answer, she turned on her heel, and then began marching resolutely (yet slowly enough to enable herself to be caught) away from the desk...
...and in the direction of the front door.
Although I didn't take my eyes off her for even a second, I clearly heard several people around me murmuring things like, "Oh, my God!" "Did you see that? "That punk kid just robbed that man!"
I shot a fast look over at Mr. Jastro, expecting to see him sprinting after her and snatching his property back, but he just stood there, rooted to the spot, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.
But then, just as I thought that she was actually going to get away with it...
...because she was now less than ten feet from the front door...
...a woman at a table near the entrance turned to the man she was sitting with and exclaimed, "Mike, do something!"...
...and, with a grim nod, her husband...
...a tall, ruddy-faced man, who I guessed to be a high school football coach...
...judging from the way his massive chest and arm muscles were filling out his white polo shirt...
...suddenly jumped up from the table...
...and, lunging toward the entrance, he reached forward...
...with both of his huge hands...
...and grabbed Sam...
...and, with one hand latching onto the back of her shirt collar...
...and the other snagging the seat of her shorts...
...he lifted her effortlessly off her feet...
...until she was level with his chest...
...and then, holding her at arm's length, he carried her (umbrella still in hand), swinging her arms and legs wildly and ruthlessly, straight back toward the front desk.
"Lemme go, you hobknocker!" she shouted, kicking her feet savagely, yet ineffectively, in all directions...
...but (unfortunately(?) hitting nothing but empty air.
"I've got her, sir!" Mike announced to Mr. Jastro, setting Sam on her feet in front of her victim, then clamping both of his enormous hands onto her shoulders to prevent her from escaping.
As for Sam, she began to struggle violently under his massive palms, while staring up into Mr. Jastro's face defiantly, shouting, "Listen, you no-good son of-"
"I'll call the police right away!" the front desk clerk interrupted, suddenly recovering (thanks to Sam's impending profanity) from his surprise. "They'll take care of this young ruffian!" he added, reaching for the phone.
Suddenly, Mr. Jastro found his voice and raised his hand.
"No...wait a minute," he replied...
...and then, as every single person in the lobby stared in disbelief, he added, "that's...not necessary."
"Of course, it's necessary!" the clerk insisted, shooting a condescending glance at Sam, who was still struggling valiantly (yet ineffectively) to pry Mike's fingers off her shoulders and flee, and then he added, "We don't allow anyone to harass our valued guests...ever; especially not a...a street urchin like-"
At that moment, he stopped speaking...
...because Mr. Jastro, shaking his head, had reached over and taken the phone receiver from his hand.
As the clerk looked back at him, confused, Mr. Jastro took a deep breath, then said, slowly, "No, don't call them. You see...I...the umbrella's...not mine. I found it, this morning, over there, in a corner of the lobby. I realize that I should have turned it in, but..."
His voice trailed off, but soon, he found it again, adding, "I...I don't blame the young lady for being upset."
Turning back toward Sam, he looked up at Mike, stating, "It's...fine. You can let her go."
With a nod, Mike relinquished his hold on Sam's shoulders, then headed back to his seat, while Mr. J. looked down at Sam and, sounding genuinely contrite, said, "I'm really very sorry about this."
Immediately, Sam opened her mouth to speak...
...but what she would have said is anybody's guess...
...because Mr. J. quickly held his hand up, silencing her...and then, hastily pulling a wallet from his inside jacket pocket with his other hand, he rummaged through it frantically, soon pulling out a small, yellow card, which he handed to Sam.
"Look, the hotel serves brunch seven mornings a week...and the food is excellent. I'd like you to be my guest, and this will get you in for free...you and your friend over there," he added, nodding in my direction.
Once again, Sam opened her mouth...
...but, once again, he cut her off.
"And...and I'll...I'm going to pay for your tea, also...for both of you!" he added quickly. "All I'm asking is that...would you please just overlook this...unfortunate incident?"
Even from where I sat, I could see what was going on behind Sam's eyes...
...that she was deciding how best to play off the rest of this scenario...
...and, soon settling on her course of action, she looked straight up into his eyes...
...and nodded, silently yet condescendingly...
...and then, after freezing him with one last, long, punishing glare...
...she turned on her heel and, with umbrella in one hand and free brunch card in the other...
...she stormed, indignant, toward the elevator...
...with me stumbling along behind her.
Five minutes later, safely behind our closed door, Sam was jumping on the bed, swinging the umbrella overhead wildly, while shouting in an annoying, sing-song voice, "It worked! It worked! It worked! It worked and I'm not cursed anymore! And now, I also have a $300 umbrella...and free tea...and free brunch...for both of us! Tra-la-la-la-la-la!"
Exasperated, I reached up and grabbed a fistful of her shirt...
...while demanding, "Stop acting like a five year old, and get back down here-hey!"...
...as she grabbed onto my wrist and dragged me up onto the bed with her, while shouting, "Whoo hoo, Carls! And you thought it wasn't going to work!"
I didn't answer (or jump), but just stood there, with my arms crossed, shooting her my most disapproving look...
...while trying hard to hide my (grudging) elation that she had been right.
Obviously not satisfied with my (lack of) response, she reached forward with both hands, and, grabbing onto the sides of my shorts, she resumed jumping...
...now forcing me to jump also...
...until, finally, she won...
...because suddenly, I was jumping, too...
...voluntarily, and just as enthusiastically...
...and as high off the bed as I could...
...while laughing giddily and elatedly...
...until, losing my balance, I fell over, sprawling on my back onto the mattress, watching as Sam vaulted over my prone body and flew off the bed...in a perfect grand jete'.
I fell back against the pillow, laughing again, as she bowed deeply in response to my enthusiastic applause.
"Hey, Carls...who da man?" she asked eagerly...
...and, indulgently, I answered, "You da man, Sam!"
She smirked at my admission of her genius...
...in a most infuriating and endearing way...
...and, realizing that I owed her full props...
...especially since she was no longer obsessing fearfully about curses and wishes...
...I smiled up at her warmly.
"You did it," I conceded.
"I...did."
"Yes, you did," I said again...
...much more softly this time...
...and, heart pounding, I held out my arms...
...gasping, as she leaned down...
...and reached forward...
...and, grabbing onto my hands, hauled me to my feet.
"Hey! What did you do that for?" I demanded.
"Why not?" she answered, confused.
Not wanting to mention what was really on my mind, I answered, "Well, you said it yourself: there's no more curse."
"Uh, yeah...kind of," she replied.
"What do you mean...kind of? I just saw-"
"So did I," she agreed quickly.
"Well then...what's the problem?" I demanded. "After all, you just tested it out, so-"
"Yeah, I did."
"Then...why did you just drag me up off the bed when the two of us should be, uh...celebrating?"
"Because it's not over 'til it's over," she replied, very matter-of-factly.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, Carls, that now...it's your turn."
"Wh-what do you mean...my turn?"
"You need to test it out, too," she replied.
"Oh, no, I don't!" I declared. "You just proved-"
"Yeah, I proved it for myself...but, not for you," she pointed out.
"But...I wished exactly the same thing as you did...in exactly the same way!" I exclaimed.
"But that's no guarantee-" she began.
"No, Sam! I'm not going downstairs to the lobby and stealing any-"
She shook her head.
"Don't worry, we aren't going downstairs to the lob-"
"I'm not stealing anything...from anyone...anywhere!" I asserted.
"Who said anything about stealing?" she replied. "I had...something else in mind."
"Like...what?" I asked...
...soon regretting it...
...because, less than ten minutes later, we were walking out the hotel's front door...well, actually, Sam was walking...
...and dragging me behind her...
...as I protested vehemently, "No, Sam! There's no way! No!"
"Yes, Carls."
"B-but...there are a hundred reasons why I couldn't...and shouldn't...and wouldn't!" I shouted...
...more than ready, right then and there, to list each and every one...
...but she wasn't having it...
...and, spinning me around, she grabbed my shoulders, asking, "Look, do you want peace of mind or not?"
"Of course, but-"
She cut me off with a shake of her head.
"No, Carls. You're going to. It's the only way."
And, seeing her expression...
...one that conveyed, in no uncertain terms, that there was absolutely no way out...
...I stopped struggling...
...putting up no further effort as she took hold of my arm...
...and led me across street, to the outer edge of the beach...
...but instead of heading down to the waters edge, we turned left, walked along the road for about four blocks, and then she led me...
...far too quickly and eagerly for my liking...
...around to the front counter of TRACY'S TROPICALS a huge, colorful, Polynesian-themed concession stand, whose back hugged the street, and whose wide frontage faced the ocean.
Allowing her to take the lead, we walked past it-twice-at a safe distance, sizing things up, then Sam turned to me and said, "Okay, now that we have 'the lay of the land', next we have to memorize the menu."
"What...why?" I asked.
"So you'll know what you're talking about," she explained patiently...
...and, after I'd consented...
...via a weary, yet resigned nod, we approached the front counter...
...but then, she stopped and, leading me over to the right, we stood off to the side...
...making it clear to any and all employees that we were 'just looking'.
Now that it was late afternoon and the sun was hanging low in the sky, most of the beach bums had come in from the water...
...and had abandoned their sunbathing...
...and now they all were lined up, waiting to order refreshments.
I glanced (somewhat nervously) at the long line of people, who were wearing a wide variety of attire, including casual resort sportswear, some (surprisingly) in business wear, and, of course, the majority in wet swimsuits.
Turning my attention to the joint's menu...
...which had been painstakingly hand-lettered on four long surfboards, which were hanging over the front counter, just under the fringe of the thatched roof...
...I looked at the multitude of offerings, and my heart sank.
"But-" was as far as I got.
"Just do it, Carls," she replied, anticipating my resistance...
...and, with a sigh, I did.
After ten minutes or so, I was fairly confident...
...and, after conveying this to Sam, I followed her over to a nearby row of benches, adjacent to the stand; and we sat down on the one that was farthest from the counter, but which was still close enough to see everything clearly.
Immediately, Sam turned to me.
"Next we'll see how much you've learned," she announced. This objective consisted solely of watching the counter top, as each drink was set on it, in front of the customer, in a large, clear plastic cup, and then identifying it to Sam.
Less than a minute later, Sam nodded her head in that direction.
"That one, Carls?"
"Um...grape-strawberry."
"Yes, that's what I thought, too...and what about that one?"
"Uh...raspberry-mango."
"No, the color is too light...it's orange-pineapple," she corrected.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she stated confidently. "Now, what about that one?"
"That's just a lemonade...and that long thing is a hot dog...and that twisty thing is a hot pretzel," I added sarcastically.
"Duh, Carls."
"And that whitish drink is a coconut-papaya."
After maybe ten minutes more, Sam was satisfied.
"Okay, here we go," she announced. "It's time to find your vict-uh, I mean your target."
"Why bother getting hung up on semantics...'target' is just as bad!" I declared.
Sensing my rapidly-returning apprehension, she cajoled, "Come on, after what we did this afternoon, with your 'Uncle Frank', this should be a cinch."
"What?" I replied, incredulous. "You've got to be kidding me...right?"
Ignoring my question, Sam leaned forward, and, elbows on knees, began staring intently at the slow-moving line of people...
...waiting...
...and, suppressing a sigh, I did the same. After several unproductive minutes had passed...
...with punishing slowness...
...I glanced over at Sam...
...whose face was screwed up, in total concentration...
...knowing as well as I did that a lot rested on this decision.
Turning my attention away from Sam again...
...and back to my, uh, 'trawling', I spent the next ten or twelve minutes sizing up all possible candidates...
...and, during this time, I actually saw several who might 'qualify', and pointed them out...
...but Sam kept rejecting them...
...one by one...
...over and over...
...without even giving me a reason...
...until, just as I was about to yell at her to make her friggin' mind up, already...
...she gasped and, nodding her head in the direction of a spot near the front of the line, she said eagerly, "That one!"
I looked over and frowned, then asked, confused, "The one who's pointing up at the menu?"
"No," she answered, "see the old guy who's wearing the Hawaiian shirt? The one who's behind him."
Craning my neck, I looked...
...for all of three seconds...
...and then yelled, "Are you crazy?"
"That's what they say," she answered genially.
"Sam...No! N-not that one!"
"Yes, Carls. That one."
"I...can't!" I insisted.
"You have no choice," she informed me. "Like it or not, you're going to do this."
"I...I refuse!"
"Why?" she asked...
...but only to humor me.
"How can you even ask me that?" I gasped. "J-just look at that T-shirt!"
"I did," she assured me.
"Do you have any idea what C.R.A.P.P. stands for?" I demanded.
"Of course. That's what makes it all so perfect."
"You...you don't have any idea what C.R.A.P.P. means!" I insisted.
She turned to face me, stating, "Oh, yes, I do...it means that that snooty, self-righteous bee-yotch needs to be knocked off her pedestal...ASAP."
"But...but-"
"No, Carls. That's the one...hmm...raspberry-mango," Sam said, half to me and half herself, as the counter man set the cup in front of my...inevitable...victim.
As I saw the money changing hands, my heart began pounding in terror.
"Sam, no...please! I really don't think-"
"Don't think, then...just do it...oh, God yes...this is too perfect!" she exclaimed...
...and, following her line of vision, I saw that my target had finally turned away from the counter...
...and was now heading across the deserted beach...
...down toward the water.
"Perfect!" Sam repeated. "Just think, everyone's gone up to the refreshment stand, so there will be no witnesses...which means that no one will hear a thing!"
"Sam, no! I've decided that there's absolutely no way I'm going to...wh-what are you doing?"...I exclaimed...
...as, leaning forward down and to her left, she began pulling my sneakers and socks off .
"No! I can't!" I repeated.
She ignored me.
Once my feet were bare, she straightened back up, then turned to face me.
"Come on, you need to get moving," she announced. "We can't waste this short window of opportunity."
"I can't!" I insisted.
Again, she ignored me.
Leaning closer, she looked straight into my eyes, stating, "Now, I want you to say it."
"I...can't!"
"Say it, Carls, or live in fear and uncertainty."
"Better fearful...and uncertain...and free, than behind bars!" I observed.
"Say it, Carls."
"I can't!"
"Say. It. Carls."
"Okay, okay!" I shouted...
...now just desperate to get it over with...
...and so, I turned away from Sam...
...and, then stared straight ahead, focusing as hard as I could...
...and then, with as much feeling and conviction as I could marshal, I declared, "There's nothing I hate more than being hit...so, I wish that, within the next twenty minutes, I'm going to...to be brutally bitch slapped!"
"Well done!" Sam exclaimed, clapping me on the shoulder. "Totally unselfish and determined, and-"
"And suicidal!" I retorted.
Ignoring this, she reached over, took my hands, and hauled me to my feet.
"Sam, no...I-"
"Get down there, Valerie...get down there and make me proud!"
When I didn't move, she reached around behind me and whacked me on the ass...
...hard...
...and, abandoning all remaining traces of intelligent thought, and now rubbing my stinging left butt cheek, I sprinted across the wide stretch of beach...
...and down to the water's edge.
She had kicked her own shoes off and had pulled the bottoms of her pink sweat pants up above her knees before wading in...
...and now she was standing in the surf, alone...
...with her back to me...
...staring off at the horizon, which was now a magnificent, late afternoon riot of color …
...its hues reflecting warmly off her mousy brown ponytail, which hung down between her shoulder blades...
...it's ends suddenly fluttering, as a welcome, warm breeze rippled through the heavy, still-sultry air.
With my heart pounding in my ears...
...and while watching the way the surf swirled around tops of her calves...
...I stood there, motionless...
...for nearly a full minute...
...trying to figure out the best way to say it...
...but then, I caught sight of Sam out of the corner of my eye...
...and, seeing the way she was pointing...
...vigorously and repeatedly...toward the water...
...I knew that there was no turning back...
...and, after nodded at her slowly...
...I took a deep breath...
...and waded out.
A minute later, I was standing to the left of my soon-to-be victim...
...perhaps three feet away...
...with my legs trembling under me...
...while hoping wildly that, when she hit me she would aim for the side of my face...
...instead of breaking my nose.
Since her eyes were still on the horizon, it seemed she didn't realize I was there; but suddenly, without turning to me, she said, "Hi!"
"Hi," I replied. "Lovely afternoon, isn't it?"
She nodded, then added, "Yes, there's nothing more beautiful than watching the sunset over the Pacific. I come down here all the time."
"Oh...do you live here?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied...
...finally turning to face me, and then asking, "Do you?"
"No...just visiting," I answered.
At this, she smiled, shaking her shaggy, light brown bangs out of her eyes...
...and, sensing that she was about to ask me where I was from...
...a question I most definitely did not want to answer...
...I pointed down at her the lettering on her white T-shirt and remarked, "Oh, Republican Conservatives Against Permissive Progressives?"
Her face lit up.
"Yes!" she replied enthusiastically. "I'm surprised...most people don't know what C.R.A.P.P. means."
"Well, I watch the news a lot," I hedged...
...while cringing inwardly at the memory of the countless, mind numbing, soul crushing hours spent on Grandad's sofa...
...bored out of my mind...
...and not bothering to mention to her that it was only because he forced me.
"My parents are working on congressman Preston Elliot's campaign," she remarked suddenly...
...and then, she extended her hand.
"I'm Daphne Olivia Gates."
I shook it.
"Nice to meet you."
Silence...
...as I prayed that she wouldn't ask me.
"And you are?" she prompted, anyway.
"Uh, I'm Valerie...uh Valerie...Spencer!" I answered, blurting out the first name that came to mind...
...and, realizing that it definitely was time to change the subject, I pointed at the cup in her hand, asking, "Hey, is that a Slurpo, from Tracy's Tropicals?"
"Yes, she replied with a smile. "They're so awesome...what kind did you get?"
"None yet," I informed her. "I just had afternoon tea."
"Oh, I see. Well, while you're here, be sure to try one," she remarked.
I nodded, then said, "I was thinking that I might come back for one, this evening...but I wasn't sure what kind to get. So, what's your favorite?"
She gestured at the cup with her free hand.
"Well, this one is raspberry-mango."
"That looks good," I replied, then added, thoughtfully, "I was checking their menu out earlier , and and the ginger-lime sounded interesting...but this one looks good, too."
"Yes, the ginger-lime is good," Daphne assured me, "but the raspberry-mango is my absolute favorite."
"Hmm it does looks good..." I conceded...
...as she took another long sip...
...and then, lowering the cup, she asked, "Would you like to try it?"
"I'd love to," I replied, taking a step closer...
...and, just as she extended it toward me...
...I knocked her arm aside..
...and then reached up...
...with both hands...
...and, grabbing onto both sides of her face...
...I slammed my mouth against hers.
It took nearly two full seconds for her initial shock to wear off...
...and, the instant it had, she began waving her arms wildly...
...but I was far from ready to let go of her...
...because, deciding that I might as well do the thing properly, I was determined that this kiss was going to be a memorable one.
Finally, after a full ten seconds, I took my hands...and my lips...off her...
...and, staggering backward from me two steps, she opened both her mouth and her eyes wide...
...but before she could utter a word...
...such as "Help!", or "Police", or "Die, dyke, die!"...
...I smiled at her broadly, and said enthusiastically, "you're right...that was absolutely delicious!"
She continued to standing there, staring at me, completely and silently aghast...
...and, apparently, too stunned to move...
...so, to hasten things along, I stared back at her...
...with dreamy eyes.
"Daphne," I sighed, "remember when you said that the most beautiful thing in the world is the sun setting over the Pacific? Well, you were wrong...because the most beautiful in the entire world is...you!"
That did it...
...and then, as if on cue, her eyes narrowed...
...and her nostrils flared...
...and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her raspberry-mango Slurpo disappear into the surf...
...as she flung the cup down...
...and, a fraction of a second later, she jerked her right hand upward and back...
...rapidly and forcefully...
...and I dug all ten of my toes into the wet sand, as deeply as I could...
...bracing myself for impact...
...closing my eyes, as her hand shot forward...
...and I felt the wind on my cheek as it swung around wildly...
...making sudden and decisive contact...
...with the back of my head...
...while her left arm wrapped around my upper back...
...and, dragging me forward...
...she slammed her lips into mine.
It took nearly two full seconds for my initial shock to wear off...
...and the instant it had, I began waving my arms wildly...
...but she wasn't ready to let go of me yet...
...because, deciding that she might as well do the thing properly, she was determined that this kiss was going to be a memorable one.
Finally, after a full ten seconds, she took her hands and my lips off me...
...and, staggering backward two steps, I opened my mouth and my horrified eyes wide...
...but before I could utter a word...
...she exclaimed, "I know! I know that it's impossible for you to speak...because of the way you feel! I know, because I...I felt it, too!"
"Wh-wh-what?" I managed to gasp.
"I...I've never told anyone about this," she said, now speaking rapidly, "...but I've been...struggling with my sexuality for years...wondering what was wrong with me...why I didn't feel the way I was supposed to about boys-"
"Wh-wh-what?" I managed to splutter.
"Night after night I've prayed...praying for a sign to show me what path I was supposed to take, and daring...against hope...that I might actually...and now...I have been given a sign! And such a beautiful one as you!" she concluded...
...staring at me with dreamy eyes.
"But...but-"
She grabbed my upper arms.
"Valerie, are you a Christian? Please say that you are! Are you?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Me too!" she shrieked excitedly.
"Th-that's nice," I replied, but-"
"Which denomination?" she asked, eagerly, cutting me off.
"Protestant...M-m-methodist, but-"
"My family are Baptists" she squealed. "That's so close! I never even dreamed that I would...oh, a sign...and a child of God!" She lifted her eyes to the sky. "Oh, thank you, Lord! Thank you so much!" she exclaimed.
"B-but-"
Taking a step forward and completely closing the gap between us, she reached up and rested her right hand against my cheek.
"Come to my Bible study class tomorrow night...no, wait! Come with my family to Congressman Elliot's rally tonight...no, wait! You can come to both!" she urged...
...with terrifying enthusiasm...
...and then, suddenly, it hit me: the realization that she was now beginning to plan our future...
...together...
...and, finally, I found my voice.
"I'm-m-m sorry, b-but I c-can't!"
"Oh...you're not out yet, either?" she asked sympathetically, then she lay her free hand on my arm, adding, "Don't worry, I'll just say that you're my friend...after all, there's no way I can tell my family...or anyone else...not yet, anyway!"
Before I could come up with any kind of excuse to extricate myself from this rapidly-escalating nightmare, both of her hands were on my shoulders again...
...and she was pulling me close...
...and the expression on her face left no doubt as to what was on her mind: Another Kiss...
...probably the first of (at least) several more...
...and I began struggling...
...but she wasn't letting go.
"It's okay, I don't think anyone's looking," she said, confidently...
...without even taking her eyes off me...
...as she began to move in for the kill...
...and, at that moment, my brain began screaming...
...demanding that I punch her in the face...repeatedly...
...and that I then run like hell...
...until I was well out of the Ocean Shores police jurisdiction...
...but then, over its insistent yelling...
...I heard something else...
...the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my entire life.
"Vaaaaalllleeeerrriiieee!"
And, whipping my head around...
...I saw (to my profound relief) that Sam, now barefoot, was tearing up the beach toward us...
...running to the rescue!
And then, to my utter joy...
...I felt Daphne's hands sliding off my shoulders...
...as she said, "Oh, I didn't know you were here with a friend." A fraction of a second later, she (finally(!) noticed my apprehensive expression...
...and, mistaking it for 'fear of being outed', she added, "Look, it's fine. I understand perfectly, because I haven't told any of my friends, either...so don't worry...I promise I won't say a word!"
At that point, there was no need to answer...
...because, finally, Sam had reached us and was now running, without hesitation, into the water...
...and, splashing her way out to where we stood, up to our knees in the surf...
...she looked directly at me and asked, "What are you doing?"
One look at her face confirmed (to my relief) that she understood the entire situation perfectly...
...and so, I replied, "Just talking, Sa-uh, I mean Kendall."
"Kendall, what a pretty name!" Daphne remarked pleasantly, turning to Sam with a friendly smile...
...but instead of smiling back, Sam just stood there, in complete silence...
...not even looking over at Daphne, but continuing to stare at me, expectantly...
...and, thanks to the devilish gleam in her eye, I had a pretty good idea what was coming next.
Fortunately, I had done a fair share of improvisation in my high school drama club.
Flashing a slightly 'guilty' smile, I began, "Daphne here...well, she's...just telling me about...we were just, uh, you see-"
"Don't you tell me what to see!" Sam shot back. "What I see is you chatting up another girl behind my back! And that makes the third time this week!"
And, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dawning of realization on Daphne's face...
...as she began to understand the 'true' nature of our 'relationship'...
...and I also saw, quite clearly, that she was, uh...somewhat less than happy about it.
"No, Kendall," I insisted. "it's not like that at all! We were just...talking."
"Yeah, right!" Sam shot back, loudly. "Talking today...and probably screwing tomorrow! Now come on, you promised to drive me to my parole meeting!"
At this pronouncement, she looked over, meaningfully, at Daphne, as though expecting a response...
...but the poor girl just stood there...
...now stunned speechless.
"Anyway," Sam continued, turning back to me, "I was supposed to be there twenty minutes ago, and you know how bitchy that goddamned old fossil Mrs. Phipps gets when I show up late!"
Suddenly, Daphne found her voice...
...and, with a disapproving look on her face (and sounding more than a little preachy), she said to Sam, "That's no way to talk about anyone, let alone an elderly woman."
"What makes you think it's any of your business?" Sam challenged, shooting Daphne a look of contempt.
"Now, Kendall," I began, "She's only-"
Sam whipped her head around to face me.
"No one asked your opinion either, Val," she cut me off, "so why don't you just shut the hell up?"
"Don't you talk to her that way!" Daphne admonished her, now unmistakeably indignant.
"Why shouldn't I?" Sam replied dismissively. "It's how I talk to all my bitches...and none of the others complain."
"None of the oth-" Daphne gasped. "Y-you mean there's...there's more than one?"
"Val doesn't seem to mind," Sam answered dismissively, then asked her, "So, how many do you have?"
"None yet, but-" Daphne began...
...then stopped with a gasp...
...suddenly realizing that she'd just said way, way too much.
"Oh, still on the down low, eh?" Sam inquired, in a fairly conversational tone.
Daphne opened her mouth, but was now, once again, incapable of answering...
...so Sam added, "Still questioning, huh? No surprise...I can spot one a mile away."
Since Daphne was still speechless, Sam continued, "As I said, Val here doesn't seem to mind."
Suddenly remembering my 'unfortunate circumstances', Daphne's voice returned.
"Well, she should mind...and she probably does!" she shot back, fixing Sam with a resentful glare, adding, "She's probably just too...afraid of you to say so!"
"Whether she is or isn't doesn't matter," Sam answered with a sneer. "Valerie knows her place."
At this revelation, Daphne, now unmistakeably agitated, snapped, "I don't know where she thinks her place is...but it definitely shouldn't be with you!"
"Is that so?" Sam shot back...
...acting(?) more than a little offended. "And what makes you think you're qualified to-"
"She deserves a lot better than you!" Daphne shouted back, then whipped around to face me and grabbed onto my wrist.
"Break up with her!" she urged. "Find another girl...even if it's not me...because you...d-deserve so much better!"
"There's no one better than me!" Sam bragged. "I can do things with my tongue that you can't even imagi-"
Daphne spun back around to face Sam, the contempt in her voice escalating rapidly as she shouted, "You don't appreciate her!" Valerie's a lady! And a romantic! And a Christian! And you...well, you're obviously nothing but a...a...an ATHEIST!"
"How dare you!" Sam yelled, in her most offended tone. "I'm very religiously devout! You've heard of people speaking in tongues, while rolling around on the floor? Well, you should see what I can do with my tongue, while I'm rolling around on the fl-"
Suddenly, she stopped...
...and then, turning to me, she continued, "Oh, yeah, while we're on the subject of tongues, Val, are you still 'on the rag'?"
Daphne gasped audibly.
"Well, are you?" Sam demanded, her eyes still clamped onto mine...
...but, before I could figure out where she was going with this (and, therefore, how I should respond)...
...she snapped, "and you know why I'm asking...because it's been almost a week...and I have needs!
I sneaked a look over at Daphne...
...who now looked ready to faint...
...as Sam continued, "Listen, after parole tonight, I'm going to head over to the elementary school, well, behind it, actually...because I have to see 'you know who'...about the delivery of 'you know what'...from 'you know where'...but I'll definitely be home by 11; and when I walk through that bedroom door, you'd better be naked and ready for some heavy fornicating!"
"Valerie, please!" Daphne begged, now looking (and sounding) very near tears. "Please break up with her! Don't you see that she's only using you?"
Before I could respond, her hand slid from my wrist to my palm, and she held onto it tightly...
...just as Sam grabbed onto my other hand...
...while I just stood there, trapped, between them...
...wondering how the entire thing would play out...and who would fire the next shot.
As it turns out, it was Sam.
"Come on, Val, we've wasted enough time talking to this twit; now let's get going!" she demanded...
...yanking on my arm.
"No! I...I refuse to let you take her!" Valerie yelled, tightening her grip on me. "Even if she can't see for herself what a mistake she's making...it's my duty as...as, well, her...friend to make her see-"
"Listen, you...Bible Banger," Sam shot back ominously, "The only thing you're going to see is stars..when my fist slams into your-"
"Daphneeeee!" an unfamiliar, shrill voice intruded...
...and, in unison, all three of us whipped our heads over in the direction of the shoreline...
...to see a middle-aged woman, obviously Daphne's mother, kicking her espadrilles off and wading quickly out into the surf...
...all the way up to the bottom of her plaid Bermuda shorts...
...which featured a combination of colors so ghastly that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy...
...over to where the three of us stood...
...me in between Sam and Daphne...
...each of them still holding tightly onto one of my hands.
Not letting go of me, Daphne turned to her mother.
"M-mom; you're early," she remarked, sounding more than a little unnerved. "I w-wasn't expecting you until-"
Mrs. Gates frowned and shook her head.
"The rally's been rescheduled for seven, and your father is already there; so I just came to tell you to come home, and get ready to-what on earth is going on here?" she demanded suddenly...
...now noticing that her daughter was holding the hand of a strange girl...
...who was also being held by another strange girl.
"Daphne...who are these people?"
"Well, Mom...actually..."
Her voice trailed off.
"I just asked you a question...now, what's going on here?" Mrs. Gates repeated, with a very pointed look at Daphne's face...
...and while pointing at our hands.
But, still, despite what was now a very awkward (and very dangerous) situation for her...Daphne continued to hold on...
...obviously dreading what conclusion(s) her mother might draw from witnessing this physical contact...but at the same time, loathe to let go of me...
...knowing that, if she did, she'd 'lose' me...
...in every sense of the word.
Forever.
Now more than a little irritated, Mrs. Gates repeated, "I asked you a question...and I expect an answer...right now...Daphne Olivia Gates!"
"Wow, Daph, great monogram," Sam observed.
At this remark, Mrs. Gates whipped her head around in Sam's direction...
...while shooting her a very disapproving look...
...obviously having extrapolated, based only on this one (minor) insult, that Sam definitely was not 'her kind' of person.
Meanwhile, Daphne just continued to stand there...
...torn. She also seemed incapable of answering Mrs. Gates's question.
Sam, however, was perfectly able.
"I'll tell you what's going on here," she shouted suddenly, "...your daughter just called me an atheist!"
Mrs. Gates turned back to her daughter.
"Daphne...is that true?" she asked.
"Of course it's true!" Sam yelled indignantly, before any of us could find out if Daphne was even capable of answering; then added "Are you insinuating that I'm a li-"
"That's not what I meant, young lady," Mrs. Gates replied icily. "Not at all. What I was asking was-"
"You don't have to ask!" Sam informed her. "I'll set the record straight...right here and now! I hate atheists! All they do is spew lies! There is a God...and I can prove it!"
Mrs. Gates opened her mouth...
...presumably to lecture her...
...but, almost immediately, she shut it again...
...her need to tell Sam off apparently trumped by the alluring prospect of 'proof' of God's existence.
And then, as the three of us stood, watching in silence...
...Sam drew herself up to her full height...and, taking a step forward, she looked directly into Mrs. Gate's eyes.
"Here's your proof: If God doesn't exist, then why do so many girls scream His name during orgasm?" she demanded, "...and no one knows that better than I do...right, baby?" she concluded, turning back to me with a devilish smile, while reaching over and slapping me, resoundingly, on the ass.
Mrs. Gates stood staring at her...astonished...for almost half a minute...
...but then managed to gasp, "You...you're a...and...and you have m-m-multiple...th-that many..." Unable to finish vocalizing such a horrifying scenario, she turned to me (the 'normal' one) and gasped, "Do you m-mean to tell me that the two of y-you...d-date?"
And, in that moment, I forced myself to make a split-second decision...
...realizing that a second opportunity had just been presented to me...
...a chance to make twice as certain that I truly had been uncursed.
And, after all, while I had wished to be brutally bitch slapped...
...I'd never said by whom.
And so, turning away from Daphne (who still wouldn't relinquish her grip on my hand), I took two steps forward...
...right up to where Mrs Gates was standing...
...and, looking her squarely in the eye, I replied, "Actually, she and I do more than just date...a lot more!" And then, with a lecherous smirk, I added, "But it's too bad I'm not single...because Daphne here has such a magnificent ass...and an incredible set of tits!"
That did it...
...and, as if on cue, Mrs. Gates's eyes narrowed...
...and her nostrils flared...
...and I watched as she jerked her right hand upward and back...
...rapidly and forcefully...
...and, for the second time in less than thirty minutes, I slammed all ten of my toes back into the wet sand, as deeply as I could...
...bracing myself for impact...
...closing my eyes as her hand shot forward...
...and I felt the wind on my cheek as it swung around wildly...
...making sudden and decisive contact...
...with Daphne's shoulder...
...as she reached behind me and grabbed onto her daughter...
...while shrieking, "I can't believe what I'm hear-I can't believe who you're talking to! Now, come away from these...these...these Democrats!"
"B-but, M-mom-" Daphne stuttered...
...finally (sort of) finding her voice...
...but Mrs. Gates, her mind firmly and irreversibly made up, fixed her with a death glare.
But, seconds later, Daphne was, despite this, looking over at me...
...her eyes filled with sorrow...
...saying, without words, how incredibly sorry she was...
...about everything...
...as finally, regretfully, heart-breakingly...
...she released my hand...
...but still, we stood there, continuing to stare at each other...
...and then I, also regretful, flashed her a most sincere, heartfelt, apologetic smile...
...which she accepted, with a sad nod...while taking one long, last look...
...until, seconds later, her mother had spun her around, and was dragging her by the shoulder...
...back out of the water...
...while Daphne was saying something that I couldn't make out over the crashing of the waves.
I did, however hear her mother's response...
...clearly...
...as she shouted, "I don't care if you were only witnessing to them! Don't you know what can happen to you when you come in contact with...their kind?"
If Daphne answered, I didn't hear her...
...because, at that moment, Sam, who was staring at their retreating backs, sighed, "Poor Daffy! Really, Carls...how insensitive of you to break her heart like that!"
"Break her heart?" I spluttered, more than a little defensively. "How can you criticize me that way, when you know that I just performed a valuable service...at least now she's no longer questioning!" Turning to face her, I added, hands on hips, "But, don't you think you were kind of...mean? Not only to Daphne, but to her mom?"
Sam stared back at me, incredulous, asking, "Well, would you rather I told her mom what was really going on?"
"Well...no," I admitted, "but-"
And, at that moment, I stopped speaking...
...as it (finally) dawned on me...
...with all the subtlety of a bullet train.
I was free! No more curse...ever!
"S-sam...you were right! It did work...and now we're not cursed anymore...either of us!" I shouted...
...and, lurching forward, I threw myself into her arms.
Seconds later, I was squealing loudly, as she swung me around in a huge circle...
...no less than five times...
...before setting me (now dizzy) back on my feet.
It took a minute to get my bearings again, but once I had, she took a step back and just stood there, staring at me...
...her hair full of late afternoon sunset...
...and her eyes full of sunlight...
...flashing her most winning smile, as she suggested, "You, know, Valerie, we should celebrate."
"Indeed we should, Kendall," I replied...
...while formally extending my arm and asking, "Can I interest you in a...Slurpo?"
"Indeed!" she exclaimed...
...taking hold of it and allowing me to lead her out of the water.
Seconds later, sliding her palm down my arm...
...she placed her hand in mine...
...holding on tightly...
...and, turning our backs on the sea, the two of us ran, laughing, across the wide stretch of beach...
...all the way up to the front counter of Tracy's Tropicals.