Prickly Pairs

"So you didn't see any trace of them?" I asked. She shook her head glumly.

Alice slowly worked us down the mountain. We saw and heard nothing of our mates. She pulled us into our first night's campsite, where we had a clear shot to a cell tower. Alice pulled out her Nokia and called 911.

"When the cops get here, we don't say anything about what Ted and Carol were up to, right?" Alice was anxious.

"Right. Maybe you should wipe Carol's Vaio trashbin if there's time, and hide the memory sticks. We don't need to have all of us being investigated for the next year or three."

"That's just what I was thinking. The fraud and thefts were planned but hadn't happened yet. No need to get the cops all excited."

The sun was about an hour above the western horizon when the first helicopter arrived with rangers from Joshua Tree National Park just north of us. A U.S. Navy medevac chopper from the Salton Sea base to our south landed a few minutes later. The corpsmen checked me over efficiently and declared me alive, slightly shocky and hypothermic, and showing some atrial fibrillation -- i.e. my heart was misfiring. They quickly packed me in and delivered me post-haste to Eisenhower Medical Center in Palm Springs.

Over her objections, Alice had to stay behind to deal with the rangers, and with the Sheriff and Highway Patrol choppers that arrived soon after. By then, I did not know who felt worse, her or me.

This was absolutely the worst Sunday I could remember.

I watched twilight fade outside my ward window. I was on a good-condition watch -- "overnight observation", they said. They did not worry much about me reaction to the fracture; their concern was over my outdoors 'exposure' and hypothermia, and my heart. My mom had atrial fibrillation, so I guess it is genetic.

Cell phone use was prohibited inside the hospital. I sweated bullets and awaited any word from Alice. The outside world darkened along with my mood.

Guilty thoughts washed through my mind. I had envisaged their deaths, seen mental images of crushing them in a rockslide... but what actually happened was much worse. Even though it was not my fault, and I had nothing to do with it... I still felt guilt mixing with pain, loss, loneliness, emptiness. The world I knew was over, ended, sayonara.

What would I have done and undergone if it had not ended like this? And Alice. Divorce; defense; depression? If, if if...

If Carol had not cheated with Ted. If they had not conspired. If Alice had not discovered their cheating, and if we had not found their criminal plans. If I had not fallen on the rockpile, so we would not try to escape during the storm. If we had escaped intact, but with their conspiracy still swinging in the breeze. If they had been caught, with or without our help. If they still lived. If, if if...

I heard arguing in the hospital corridor around ten o'clock. The ward door shoved open and Alice pushed past two small Filipina nurses.

"So call fucking security if you want! But you better get a few big strong guys to haul me away, 'cause that's what it'll take." She saw me and ran over. "Oh fuck, Bobby! Oh fuck..." She held me in her grubby arms and pushed her sweaty face against mine. "Oh Bobby..."

She finally released me and stood. Our fingers interlocked.

"Any sign?" I asked.

She nodded with resignation. "They didn't need to mount a big search. The CHP chopper spotted them on their way in; they found what's left of the Sequoia about a mile and a half from where we were, down a side wash. The car was all torn apart. So were... so were Ted and Carol's bodies."

She squeezed my hand painfully hard. "They really are gone, Bobby."

She cried, and leaned into me. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders. We held each other and shook silently.

An authoritative nurse, probably the ward supervisor, and two security goons came through the door and confronted Alice.

"Look, we're pretty loose on visiting hours in situations like this, but you really shouldn't treat my nurses like that. Ms Olsen, you can have five more minutes; then my guys will escort you away. Don't waste your time."

The nurse walked out. The goons stayed.

"I've called everybody," Alice said. "Carol's folks will bring all the kids here tomorrow. They wanted to charter a plane and fly out tonight but I said NO. My dad, Ted's mom, and your sister will meet us at home late tomorrow."

"What are you doing tonight? You're not going to sit vigil, I hope."

"Ha! You're not sick enough for that. No, I got a room at a motel down the street. I have GOT to get some sleep! But I'll be in here, first thing in the morning, and we'll figure out what's what."

She leaned down and gently kissed me -- just a faint brush of lips.

"I've been thinking about the future already," I said, squeezing her hand. "We're great friends, Alice. We're not soulmates. We're not a romantic couple." She nodded and squeezed back. "And I really want us to stay friends, no matter what it takes." She nodded again.

"Yes, I'd like to stay friends, too. But maybe... with benefits?" Her half-smile was tentative.

It was my turn to nod and smile. "We could get there."

You know that the story does not end there.

We had long, tearful sessions with our families. Our kids recovered faster than did our older relatives. Life went on.

The Riverside County Medical Examiner rightly ruled the deaths of Theodore Olsen and Carolina Ortega to be accidental. Nobody but Alice and I knew of their betrayal and conspiracy. We buried them in Forest Lawn and hid the memory sticks. Just in case...

Ted and Carol were heavily insured; the payouts paid off our mortgages and left large college funds for our four daughters. Alice and I still work but we are not desperate. Some of our efforts landed on Mars. Some are headed for the outer solar system. We were and are proud of our achievements.

Ted and Carol's companies were taken over by their seconds-in-command and are doing quite well without their titular heads. Alice and I are half-owners. The income is comfortable.

We decided we were indeed friends with benefits, and more. The Ortegas moved next door into the Olsen house (with its swimming pool) and I moved into Alice's bedroom. We only needed to shift some furniture.

Our Friends-With-Benefits status lasted only a few months; we married on Hallowe'en Day, in a quaint and ominous gothic hall near the Southwest Museum. The ceremony was a formal costumed masquerade. We were colorful.

---

Alice and I usually do not talk about what-ifs, but sometimes the subject sneaks up on us.

We lay together in bed, cooling off after a heavy fuck-a-thon. Alice nuzzled my neck.

"Hey there, best friend. What now?" She twitched her nose.

"Well, next time, you can be the showgirl and I'll be the burro. How about that?"

"What, that again? Well, okay, if you insist. Or maybe we can do the pygmy-and-hyena?"

"Sure, why not." I lay quiet for a moment. "Y'know, it's funny..."

"Yeah, I know; it's funny that we're here. We never could have expected..."

"We never thought it would be like this. I had no plans on you, I really didn't."

"I know. You were always the perfect gentleman. And I was always the hard-working mother, and we kept in our own lanes. Do you think maybe they thought we were...??"

"And maybe that's why they went where they did? I loved mi Carolina like crazy; I still do."

"And I never thought of going anywhere without Ted. But they were just..."

"They followed a different map. Mala mapa, bad directions. But how did they get to that page?" I shook my head. "And what happened -- was it divine justice?"

Alice put her fingers to my lips. "You know better. They were careless, that's all. No magical retribution. No karma, no fate. Bad luck follows sloppiness. They were sloppy. End of story."

My trained engineer's mind accepted that. My old-line Californio mind, raised with missions and caballeros and curanderos, was not so sure.

I have a last word about prickly-pear cacti, also known as Indian figs, Opuntia ficus-indica. These grow in vast spiny clumps and show brilliant flowers. The floral color varies with variety and locale but they may be green or yellow or orange or red. The local varieties only bloom in the most intense sunlight. These flowers of summer seem to glow like neon lights.

They seem to glow like Carol's eyes, the last time I gazed deeply into her face.

I can never forget.

---

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2014. This originally started as an entry in the Teamwork 2014 contest, but JagFarlane had to withdraw. I thank him for his contributions to the idea. Keep your eyes peeled for more of Hypoxia's tales. If you like this, VOTE!