The Fancy (8 page)

Taima to whine at the door when he wished to go out

and he was growing rapidly – he wondered what she

fed the animal?

One particular day, in which his studies were

so intense he al owed the silence to go on longer

than usual, he suddenly heard the rumble of thunder

and noted how grey the day had gone, almost dark

as night, he turned, assuming she was there, “Ah a

storm is brewing it would seem-...” he stopped,

aware that he was talking to himself, that he was

alone.

“Suga!? Suga where are you?!” He stood from

his stool needing to stretch his back and aching

muscles. “Suga? Moose? Where are you two!?” He

walked from one room to another, lightning flashed

then soon the rumble of the thunder again. He went

out the kitchen door, across the length of their yard to

the barn, expecting to see her in there. “Suga, come

on in now, it'l be pouring soon-...”

Once more he tapered off, realizing she was

not in the barn – however, what he did notice was

her gown and chemise laying across the hay pen.

Immediately his adrenaline shot ful force as he

rushed out the barn, looking around and then

towards the woods surrounding them at the opposite

end of town. He made a dash for them, looking

around the smal field, waiting to see if he spotted

anyone, and when he didn't, he began yel ing out,

“SUGA?! SUGAAAA?! SUGAAAAA?!”

Feeling a panic coming on he rushed further

within the woods; rain drops were fal ing, breaking

through the forest canopy and deeper he went,

“SUUUG-GAAAAA?!” He suddenly stopped to hear

a bark coming towards him, he knew that bark.

“Moose-Taima!” He whistled to him and ran towards

the sound, the rainfal increased, coming down hard

and steady, more lightening and seconds later,

thunder.

“MOOSE! Where are you boy?” Once more,

rapid barks as if he was trying to lead him to where

they were. Quinton's heart hammered like mad,

wondering why she wasn't cal ing out to him? Was

she hurt? Was she in danger, had something

happened to her?

With each worrying thought, his adrenaline rose

to such a pitch the surface of his skin felt pricked by

a thousand needles, frightened that something was

happening to her, or had happened to her.

The rain was loud, torrential pelting the leaves

of the trees violently, in the mix of it al his heart and

his mind rushing ahead to warn him that he was

about to find her in a state that would break him.

He'd known her less than a month and he raced

ahead as if the idea of not having her with him,

unimaginable.

“Please God, please – let her be okay,

please...” He begged as he ran, soaked by the rain –

he wasn't sure how fast he was moving, or how far

within he went until he caught movement out the side

of his eye and turned to it.

She must have seen him, because she stood,

frozen, breathing hard, almost naked in the woods

and rain, wearing only the thin string undergarment

he’d first seen her in, and the fawn colored hide that

fitted her upper body loosely – barely concealing her

breasts – her strong legs, thighs, hips, rear -bare!

Her smal waist, flat stomach – bare! Arms and…

bare chest! At her bare feet, a female deer, a doe,

dead, gutted – laying open, its hind legs tied with a

rope, which went up a tree and back down again, to

Suga's hand. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He stood soaking wet, staring at her, also

soaking wet – the blood on her body, was being

washed away, her hands and the knife she wielded

dripped rain and blood.

He couldn't speak.

“Help me! Got's t'get it up that tree! Fox gone

get my kil – or wolf! It's my kil !” She proclaimed, as

if an animal herself, standing and yel ing through the

downpour at him. When he didn't move, she turned

back to what she'd been doing, tugging on the rope

with al of her might, using the weight of her body to

try and hoist the deer up.

“QUINTON! HELP MEEE!” She snapped him

out of his trance. He rushed forward, his mind

reeling, “This is madness! You are simply mad! Look

at you! My God – what… who have you given me?”

“We got's t'get it high! Way up high!” She

yel ed, ignoring his words.

Quinton looked up high, into the tree where she

wanted it – to be shocked further – there for him to

see, were several dead carcasses, rabbits, gutted –

hanging upside down; wild turkeys, pheasants, the

same – ducks, several geese, hanging from the tree

limbs, swinging by the breeze. His eyes snapped

back to her.

“WHERE IN -...” He stopped shouting, once

more, she was no longer beside him, but climbing up

an adjacent tree, rope gripped between her teeth,

using her hands and bare feet to grip, push and

brace herself…

…her body corded with muscles, flexing with

her demands upon it; she took the rope to a strong

thick branch – looped it over and then hopped over

as wel , grabbed the rope and starting dropping to

the ground, the deer came up off the ground right

past his face to stop level, with the doe's dead eyes,

looking into his, “MY GOD!! WHO HAVE YOU

GIVEN ME???” He shouted again – shaken by what

he saw – she was a woman after al – a smal fragile

creature herself, wasn’t she?

“HELP ME!” She cal ed to him, coming to the

ground. He could do nothing else but run to her aid,

grabbing her wet slick body by the waist, he pul ed

her down and then took over the rope, pul ing it to get

the deer even higher. She helped him and soon, it

was high up off of the ground. She wrapped the

anchoring rope high around the tree trunk and before

he could blink, she was up another tree, securing the

rope from the reach of any passer-by.

He stood with his mouth open, rain pouring

down his face and off his chin, some going into his

mouth. With his next blink, she was landing on the

ground before him, “Come, it gone storm!” She

yel ed at him, running ahead back through the

woods, the flanks of her wet, firm round buttocks

flexing and pumping to propel her forward, Moose-

Taima, running after her. He stopped, looked back at

him, barking at him as if to say,
'Come on – what are

you waiting for?'

Quinton snapped out of it once more and

started running to catch up to them but she was wel

out of sight.

She was fast! Faster than he'd ever known a

woman could move. By the time he'd made it back to

the barn, she'd been there and left, chemise, gown –

no longer hanging there for him to see. No sign of

her dog either for that matter, they were in this thing

together – the two of them – he was left out.

Quinton resented it.

He turned from the barn and made his way

towards the house, there was no sense rushing,

running, even with the rain coming down in sheets

now from a dark grey sky, he was as wet as he could

get, no way to guard from getting any wetter – so

what was the hurry? His mood, within the previous

40 minutes, had gone from curious as to her

whereabouts, to worry, then fright, and upon

discovering her, her activities – shock!

Now, anger, verging on fury? His stride

reflected the storm raging around them as he went

through the back door – she was not in the kitchen.

He walked down the hal , dripping al the way, to his

cozy room with the fireplace, where she'd brought

order to his books, the furniture within, his cabinets

with their vials, his writing desk, al was in perfect

order. He turned, a puddle growing at his feet, to

hear the dog coming down the stairs, her behind it.

She stopped in the hal way, staring at him with wide

innocent eyes, eyes of one he could never have

imagined doing the things he'd caught her doing; in

her hand, towels – no doubt for him.

“Quinton – brung you towels to dry – you wet-...”

“I'm wet! I'm wet?! Is that al you have to say?

That I'm wet? Yes, so I am wet! Know why I'm wet? I'l

tel you why-...”

“Dry yo'self firs’, Quinton.” She pleaded softly,

looking contrite and humble.

He didn't want her help, and told her so,

snatching the towel from her. “Give me that! I can dry

myself - thank you!”

She bowed her head, chewing her lip, hands

behind her back looking as if innocent of al charges,

holding clothing for him. “Ohhh no you don't! No –

you – don't! I'm not fooled by that look, no – I'm not!

Not at al !” He huffed, drying his head of curls first,

glaring at her through the towel opening.

“Wel ? Let me hear it! You – young lady have a

lot of explaining to do! Once more, you disappear

and where do I find you? Where?! Yes, we both

know where! Why – why – were you – once more, as

you were – in the woods – the woods I repeat –

naked – yes – bare arsed – for al to see – like ah –

ah ah ah – wild – unrestrained – wood nymph!” He

was so angry he was shaking, repeating himself,

fumbling for words.

“Wha's a wood nymph – Quinton?” She asked,

wishing to know its meaning. He stopped, snatched

the towel from his head, “YOU!”

“That – good or – bad?” She asked hesitantly,

and added, “Take them cloths off Quinton, they wet.”

He began yanking the buttons from the holes of

his shirt, glaring at her, trying to decide how to

answer her question. He yanked his shirt off over his

head, she took it, and passed him a dry one. “Them

britches too...”

“I know – I know!” He blasted – stil glaring at

her, trying to figure her out and final y after pul ing the

shirt down over his head, then going to his pants,

saying as he did so, “You know what you are? Wild!

My God – as wild as they come! I for one have never

heard of a fancy being such a way! I thought they

were wel mannered, taught etiquette, as graceful

and delicate as ah – ah – ah – wel – a lady! Not –

slinging rats about! Not hunting and skinning and

hanging game from trees! Not to mention – climbing

them – your arse bare! My God – my God!” He

shook his head, passing her his sodden breeches,

dripping stockings and taking dry ones of each in

return. The whole time, she stood listening, eyes big,

not muttering a word in her defense. “I'l have you

know, I've been to Africa, have witnessed the most

fierce of hunters – oh yes I have! Have heard stories

of Indians and their hunting skil s – but not once in al

that time, had I heard or seen the likes of anything

like you!”

“You ain't gone give me away is you?” She

asked, worriedly.

He stood to his ful height staring at her as if

she'd lost her mind, in that instant, he knew,

regardless of how he’d found her, he could never

entertain the idea of giving her away.

“Don't be absurd - you are mine – and – mine

to keep.” He blushed then, but meant every word.

She smiled.

“Ah, so there it is. Wel don't smile so soon, I

see what it is you need, I am going to have to mold

you, shape you, make you into the lady you should

be. When I am done, running about the woods in the

al -together wil be the last idea to enter your mind for

I wil be fil ing it with too many other things! To start, I

wil have to see about more clothing for you, I cannot

expect you to conduct yourself as a lady while

dressing you as a common servant, you are not.

There is, nothing at al , common about you.”

She looked to the floor, her heart fil ed with

gladness.

Gently, his fingers appeared below her chin,

lifting her face – urging her to look into his eyes.

“I – I feared for you today – in a way – I cannot

possibly convey. I do not care – to experience such

feelings again. What must I do, to keep you from

your ventures? How can I possibly make you

understand, such actions endanger you – thus,

frighten me?”

“Got's to do my bit; no livestock, no meat – got

to keep you fed right, keep you strong, so you ain't

sick. The dark take you, what I'm gone do? Where