A Final Valentine

I was beginning to seriously question whether I would make it without help.

And it wasn't like even in my weaker state I couldn't, probably, snap her across my knee like a matchstick. Hell, Bitty could probably finish her off in two bites if I gave the command.

But, the deciding factor was that I wouldn't have wanted to face my Angela if I walked away and left the little shit in the snow and she froze to death.

"If you have drugs, throw them out," I signed. "I don't care if it's 'just' marijuana. No drugs."

"No drugs," she signed back hopefully.

"Weapons?"

She held up that little golf pencil. Hell, if I let her in, she would have access to a good dozen better weapons within reach of the door if she were the type to be able to see them as I did.

"Keep it," I signed wearily. "Is that all?"

She nodded.

"Fine," I signed. "But, if you mess with me or mine, I will leave you, broken and bleeding, behind a dumpster. Understand?"

Rather than nod, she scurried over as best she could with snow up over her knees to pick up my bags with both hands.

"Wait," I motioned.

God, I couldn't believe I was contemplating it. It would take a month to get her stink out. But, my leather duster was not just too hot, it was weighing me down. It was much more selfish reasoning that it would be easier for me to slog through the snow without it than worrying about her being cold that led me to slip out of that fifty pounds of dead animal skin and hold it out to her.

Without it, I could feel the wind bite, cooling my sweat even through the quilting of my hoodie. I wasn't too worried though. Once I started moving again, I was sure I would be warm enough.

The kid hurried to turn around and slip her arms in the sleeves. And promptly went to her knees when I let go.

"Heavy," she signed, blushing as she struggled back to her feet. "Warm. Thank you."

"Too much effort for me," I signed back before she might get the wrong idea, that I was being nice to her. "Pick up the bags and follow in my trail."

She struggled even in my wake. But, with her carrying my bags, and my heavy coat, at least I didn't fall again. Although she did about four times. It still took us long enough to reach the turn to slip up the alley that would eventually run behind the duplexes where I lived that the sun was awfully low in the sky.

In the dead zone between fences, the snow had drifted so it reached above my knees, about halfway up her thighs if she hadn't been on the path I'd broken. I was trembling and could feel my muscle spasms getting worse. My left calf was working towards a full-blown "charlie horse," a cramp so bad it could make the ends of my fibula where it had been broken and never healed right shift out of alignment. But, even my right chest and shoulder were twitching hard enough the top of my staff was jerking.

We were almost there when a small disaster struck. We had been squeezing through the back fence where some of the little punk neighbors had kicked some slats out when several of the bags snagged and broke.

"Sorry," she said in a flat atonal voice, the first word she'd spoken. "Sorry. Sorry."

I was exhausted. I doubt I would have been that angry even if I'd had the energy to be. Certainly not enough to merit her flinching as she tiredly tried to pick up the scattered items and just made it worse as two more of the cheap plastic bags split.

My "front" door, which I rarely used, was just a few steps further. I caught the back of the mantle on my duster she was wearing and half dragged her over to it.

Bitty was almost excited enough to break her training and come out the door when I opened it. Might have if it hadn't been for all that wet, nasty white stuff. Instead, she hovered just inside, wagging her whole back end hard enough it threated to pull her off her feet and yipping like a puppy.

I pushed the girl inside and stripped my duster off her back, popping the snaps and pulling her arms behind her. I don't know what she might have said (signed), or even what her expression might have been. I turned away even as she turned around, and dragged my old duster back out to the scattered items laying in the snow.

When I returned, dragging my purchases on my duster behind me like a sled, I spotted the girl almost hugging the gas wall furnace with Bitty dancing around her sniffing as she patted the dog's head awkwardly.

I was a little disappointed not see the more panicked reaction we were used to. And I wasn't real thrilled Bitty's tail was still thumping away hard enough to rock my dining chair I hadn't pushed back to the table earlier instead of growling to let the interloper know her proper place. But, I was too tired to try to fix it and I had other things to worry about.

With the door still standing open to let in light, I carefully placed each item from my duster-slash-sled on the dining table and mentally counted down to make sure I'd made it in with everything I could remember buying.

Smokes, check.

Bitty food, check.

Bunch of other crap. Good enough.

I pushed the door to behind me and jerked it back open at a sound like a cross between a scream and a wail.

"No dark," the girl signed quickly. "Don't like dark. Need light to see. Have to see."

"No electric," I signed back and flipped the light switch beside me to demonstrate. "Candles. Not many. Have to save them. And dangerous to leave burning all the time. Okay? Or do you want to go find someone else?"

Her eyes darted behind me at the cold and snow outside the open door and she swallowed nervously. We hadn't seen a single solitary soul in our long trek.

"I'll try. But, really don't like the dark. But, will try."

I lit the candle on the table with the lighter left beside it for that purpose before pushing the door to again and locking it. Even with the candle lit, it was so much darker than the white world outside it took a few long moments for me to adjust. And I could hear the girl moaning the entire time.

When I could see, I saw her eyes open as wide as they could and her head swiveling as she tried to hurry the process. Bitty had stopped sniffing and was sitting, looking up at her with her head cocked over to one side at the sounds the girl was making.

Feeling a little ignored, and maybe a tad jealous, I clapped my hands sharply twice to get Bitty's attention. The girl didn't jump, and I felt foolish for expecting her to since she couldn't hear it. Bitty, as she'd been trained, looked to me for the signal and I motioned for her to come to me.

I was gratified when Bitty came bounding over to give me the greeting I had been missing, her back end once more swinging wildly as she peeled about seven layers of skin off my face with her tongue while I dug my fingers in her fur.

I wasn't really giving the girl time to get her bearings and settle down. I was just getting reacquainted with my dog and re-establishing our pack bond. And, too, I wanted to give her the extra large triple-flavored rawhide bone I had gotten for her despite her making me go on that long trek without her.

"Lucky I love you," I said in my normal voice, so soft even if our guest hadn't been deaf, she wouldn't have been able to hear.

With one final lick to return the feeling expressed with interest, Bitty took her bone and settled down on the floor for an orgasmic chew session.

"I like your dog."

"Thank you," I signed. I guessed her eyes must have adjusted. "Don't get near her while she has a bone or food. She might snap at you. She wouldn't even let my wife near her then."

"Wife? Married?" The girl glanced around.

"Was. She died."

"Sorry."

"Me too." Now that we were inside and safe and warm, or at least warming, I was having serious misgivings about the whole situation once more.

My left ear pounded and rang. I guessed it must have just been getting the feeling back.

But, if this kid was really going to stay, there was one thing that would have to be addressed. I could smell her even from where she stood, her stink wafting on the warm air pushing out from the wall furnace behind her.

"You stink," I signed. "If you are going to stay, you have to shower. Do you know how to use a shower?"

"Yes! I have been on the road since just after Christmas. No shower to use. I know how."

"Good. Follow," I signed as I brushed past her. When she didn't, I turned back.

"Dark," she signed.

Right. I sighed and stepped into the bedroom to get one of my precious candles off Angela's table. This really was turning into more trouble than I thought I wanted.

The girl followed the burning candle into the small bathroom. It had been awhile since I had seen it. Normally, I just went in blind and took care of what I needed to do in there in the dark. I winced as I imagined what my Angela would have had to say to me about the state of it, not even counting the mirror over the sink I'd shattered with my forearm the first week after she'd gone.

Well, I wasn't about to try to clean it for the girl I wasn't really all that wild about having there.

When I turned back, she had unzipped that filthy yellow hoodie. And only had on what looked like an ace bandage around her small breasts underneath!

"Stop!" I said aloud before I remembered and switched to sign. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shower," she signed back with her head tilted over in a credible imitation of Bitty.

"Well, wait until I'm out of the room," I signed impatiently. "Nobody here wants to see what you don't have. You say you know how to shower. Fine. Take your time and do it right. Soak in the tub if you want. If I can still smell you when you come out, I will send you back. I'll see if I can find something else for you to wear. We should probably burn those clothes, but stopper the tub and dump them in when you are done and we'll see if we can get them clean enough for something other than shop rags. Okay?"

"Okay."

I stepped out to return to the bedroom and rummage around for clothes. Only having two candles on Angela's table was just wrong. Not so much because it was less light, but just because there should have been three, damn it!

I pulled out another pair of my sweats and opened up the closet to get out an old flannel of mine I hadn't worn in years since it buttoned and was hanging unbuttoned from the hanger. I felt a sharp pang as I remembered Angela had worn that same shirt, unbuttoned, and nothing else except a smile. But, then, she'd worn most of my shirts at one time or another. Both button-downs and t-shirts.

I had heard the water turn on but hadn't really been paying attention. When I looked up from making my way back through the still open bathroom door, the kid was in the shower as naked as the day she was born. Her clothes, and yes that had been an ace bandage, were piled on the floor. Getting wet since the shower curtain was pulled wide.

The "kid" actually had a little bit more of a chest than I'd thought. Not a lot, but since I could count her ribs (under fading bruises) from where I stood that made a bit of sense. Together with the thick bush of hair spreading almost from hip to hip, she didn't look quite so young. But, I still figured she was lying her scrawny ass off (which I could have mostly covered both cheeks with just one of my hands) about being eighteen.

"What the hell?!" I yelped before I remembered to set the clothes down and used my hands. "What are you doing? Didn't I tell you not to get naked yet? And, I thought you knew how to shower?"

"I do!"

"Then why is the curtain open? You're getting water all over the floor!"

I stepped forward as she shrank back and lifted her hands protectively and paused as I considered the bruises.

"Not going to hit," I signed. "Not unless you hurt me or dog. But, you are making a mess. Have to close the curtain. Keep the water inside."

"Too dark."

"Too wet," I insisted as I went ahead and pulled the curtain shut despite the sounds she was making.

I set the clothes I'd found for her on the counter and stepped out, pulling the door shut behind me. My own clothes were getting on my nerves.

Sitting on the side of the bed, I pried those damn boots off my feet. A bit of snow hadn't melted yet and clung to my sweats. I peeled out of the sweats and quilted hoodie as well as the thermals underneath before it dawned on me I couldn't very well run around as I normally did with my wicked wienie waving in the wind.

I didn't think I could handle even the sweats constantly and dug around to see what I could find. My old long unused boxer briefs were a no-go as they were too tight. The pajama bottoms had some possibilities except I had a tendency to fall out the fly. Which would have defeated the whole purpose. Angela had loved it when that happened, but I didn't want to do that in front of this girl.

Finally, I found an old pair of cotton shorts with a drawstring. They were loose enough they didn't bug me too much. But, there was that drawstring to contend with. Of course, my fumblings ended up putting a knot in it, but at least they would stay up. And they brushed against little enough of my skin it wasn't much worse than getting under the covers on the bed.

The covers on the bed. Fuck. All of the covers we had in the house were on the bed. Three comforters, two blankets, and a quilt my wife had started when she first moved in with me but had never finished the last remaining edge.

I peeled one of the comforters and one of the blankets off and took it to the second bedroom for the kid. Instead of a bed, the room held bookcases lining every inch of wall except for an old beat up couch where Angela and I had sat and read together until she had become largely bedridden. I'd slept on it a couple of times (afraid I would hurt her in my sleep) before she had put a stop to "that nonsense" and told me in no uncertain terms my place was in the bed beside her. After Angela died, Bitty and I sat in there with her head in my lap so I could read by the sunlight through the windows when I was in the mood. Although, more often than not, I would end up just holding the book and looking at nothing.

So, I knew the couch was comfortable. Even if the room was a bit chilly since the curtains weren't as thick as the drapes in the bedroom and dining room, the kid should be fine.

Bitty had finished her bone, so I took her to the kitchen and put her halter on to let her out. The snow was even less of a hit than it had been since it was piled much higher. But, I figured it was time and probably past time for her afternoon constitution and left her chained with the door open.

Since there was no one out and about, I felt comfortable leaving Bitty there to ponder if she really had to go all that bad and shifted my purchases from the dining room table to the kitchen to put up in the pantry. For the first time in months, there was as much people food as Bitty food in there. Granted, some of it was cans bought when Angela had insisted I eat some vegetables every now and then. But, we were probably going to need it with another stray mouth to feed.

Bitty finally went out into the snow and rooted around until she managed to clear herself a large enough space to shit without sticking her ass in that cold wet stuff. I felt guilty enough at the look she gave me that I promised myself I would go out to the electrical room/storage closet for the spade I kept there to pick up her deposits and clear her some space with it. Tomorrow. I was much too worn out today.

I gave Bitty her can of 9 Lives Shredded Turkey and sat for a smoke while she ate. I contemplated whether I had enough energy to feed myself as I fidgeted with the small gifts I'd bought for Angela's table.

The shower was still running and I didn't mind at all, assuming she was actually scrubbing the stink off instead of just splashing around. The only reason I had water, or sewage, was because the duplex was the strangest design I'd ever seen or heard of with the apartments built front and back rather than side by side. And when the company had come by to shut my electric off, they couldn't turn off the water and sewage since those were linked.

Maybe I should have felt bad considering the neighbors in the front half were probably paying my water bill.

But, frankly, I had taken a dislike to the drug dealing assholes from the moment they had moved in. Not only were there sounds of coming and going, not to mention that Rap crap they listened to instead of music blaring, at all hours of the day and night, but they had taken it on themselves to take over our side of the driveway to park some of their five cars.

All right, so maybe Angela and I had sold her car and my Jeep and my motorcycle in our effort to keep the house we had lost and didn't actually have anything to park out there anymore. But, it was the principle of the thing. The lease we had signed when we moved in had very clearly stated that the units were single-family dwellings (not five dickheads with bad attitudes unrelated except for the brotherhood of getting stoned) with only one vehicle allowed. And that half of the covered parking belonged to one unit and the other half to the other.

The way I saw it, a portion of my rent I paid each month was going for half of that driveway. The half my neighbors had just taken it upon themselves to use without consulting me first. And I figured the amount of the water and sewer bill that was mine probably about equaled the amount of my rent that applied to that driveway.

And besides, we'd gotten into it one day when they made a not-so-veiled threat aimed at Bitty and I'd informed them I would strangle them with their Rasta dreadlocks and tell God they were too stupid to live if they tried. So, fuck them.

Rather, they could fuck themselves.

Bitty had finished her can as I mused and I determined I really didn't have the energy to try to chew and swallow the unopened sandwich on the table in front of me. The kid could have it if she wanted it. If she ever got out of the shower.

I stubbed out my smoke, feeling slightly better for having the clove in my system, blew out the candle and wandered back to place Angela's gifts on her table and stretch out on the bed to wait for my own turn at the shower. Rather than follow me, Bitty snuffled at the bathroom door and then stretched out in front of it.

I didn't intend to fall asleep. If I had, I would have blown out the candles and gotten under the covers. But, as I laid there and tried to coax my muscles into relaxing, sleep came to claim me.

Angela, my sweet Angela, was waiting for me.

--Interlude the First--

"You're doing a good thing, sweetheart."

"Am I?" I asked after kissing her soft lips, my voice every bit as strong as it had been in my prime. "How do you figure that?"

"Well, look at her," Angela sat up and turned to face me.

"Would rather look at you," I teased as I slipped my hand in my open shirt to play with her nipple.

"Stop that," Angela shivered. "I'm trying to talk seriously here. That kid doesn't look like she's had too many second helpings on her plate. And you heard. She's got nowhere to go, no one to turn to. She most likely would have frozen to death if you hadn't let her come with you."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "But, she's not my problem. She could have stayed wherever she came from. And it's not like we have a lot to spare for every Hard Luck Harry or Sobbing Susie to come down the road. There are places, and people, who do that."

"Bullshit," Angela smirked. "If the money is that big an issue, give up those cancer sticks. I know they help you manage your pain, but not as much as a decent meal and a warm place to stay will help that poor child. And as for that horseshit you are peddling, that she could have stayed where she was, where do you think those bruises came from? And besides, you heard her. She was kicked out. Last, but not least, if you aren't part of the solution, then you're part of the problem, my love."