Ridiculust Ch. 12

"I wonder if concern for their late husbands will get them to keep their hands off me?" he muttered to himself as he put the finishing touches on his poster and saved the file to a flash drive so he could take it to a print shop that he'd found with a quick search. It was in the downtown area, not far from Julia's Bed and Breakfast, and he idly wondered if that's where Sarah had gone. "Ooh, maybe I can go there on my own and see more of the town!" he said, getting to his feet and marveling at the lack of creaks, squeaks, and groans from his joints. "I haven't felt this good in years! Have I been healing myself?" he asked as he checked the back door to make sure it was locked and closed and locked the kitchen window. He grabbed his phone and hat, put on his hiking boots and went out the front door, closing it behind him. Then he realized that he did not have a key. He said, "If I could put this around my neck, it would be a locket." A small ball of energy shot from his left forefinger and hit the lock, and he heard a clack as the deadbolt slid home. Looking around, he went down the steps and had made it to the sidewalk when he heard an all-too-familiar voice.

"Roger, where are you going?" It was, of course, Debbie, in a fresh outfit of a yellow T-shirt, brown cloth purse, and white shorts and a blue Toronto Argonauts baseball cap. She was on her front porch, locking her door the more conventional way.

"Oh, just off to the print shop to get some copies of my poster printed," he replied airily, walking away as fast as he could without running. "I'm sure that you have some things to do, so how about we meet back here for lunch?"

"Nice try, bub. You're not going anywhere without an escort!" She ran down her steps, charged after the fleeing Roger, and quickly caught up to him. "Hi," she said, pulling him down for a kiss. He drank in her fragrance of green apple shampoo and a light perfume and closed his eyes as their long, gentle kiss awoke long-dormant memories of past times together.

"Hi," he murmured into her ear once she reluctantly stopped, lapsing into a hug. "Our ghostly spouses are complaining about our sex life. Apparently, we made them drunk again this morning."

"I'm not surprised," she replied, putting her head on his shoulder. "It was pretty intense." They stood on the sidewalk in the sunshine with the gentle breeze ruffling her hair and his hat. Debbie tightly held onto this man whom she'd thought was lost for good, and for whom her long-dormant love had flared like gasoline being poured onto glowing embers. He smelled of soap and Old Spice and male, and had his arms wrapped tenderly and protectively around her, just like Joe used to. She looked up at him and felt his fingers tenderly brushing away her tears.

"You want him back, don't you?" he asked, his voice suddenly rough.

"Yes, I do," she replied in an equally rough voice, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears, an action made much easier by his not having glasses anymore. "I love you and always have, but he is the one I spent my life with and had children with. He, and Jeannie," she added, "are so close that we can touch them, talk to them, and want them back so desperately."

"Aside from finding out how they came to be non-corporeal entities in the first place," Roger replied thoughtfully as they started walking slowly down the sidewalk with arms around each others' waists, "is figuring out how we can make them corporeal again. That will make the process of having them be declared legally alive again seem like a cake walk."

"Oh, Roger," she sighed. "Always the practical one." He snickered as they picked up the pace, falling into a never-forgotten rhythm as he matched his pace to hers. "But if we somehow are able to reincorporate them, what we have now will be over."

"I suppose so," he mused. "It would become really awkward all of a sudden. We'd want to be with our partners, and the extramarital hanky-panky would probably stop."

"Unless, of course, our former spouses have gotten involved in hanky-panky of their own," Debbie replied with a smirk that Roger knew all too well. "Given what happened last night, I have a feeling that they've been up to something."

"Loo-see, you got some 'splainin to doo," said Roger in a typically bad impersonation, making her giggle. "I wonder if we'll ever get a straight answer from them on that." By this time they had reached Main St and turned south towards the bridge and the downtown beyond it. They wandered past the variety store and Roger looked in through the door, but someone else was behind the counter today, so they continued on. Before long, they had crossed the bridge and were walking past the park with the large trees of the grove looming tall in the distance.

"Is it just me, or do you feel a pull towards the park?" asked Debbie, placing one foot in front of the other with great deliberation. "It's all I can do to keep moving!"

"It's been getting stronger as we've been getting closer," Roger replied through gritted teeth, slowly plodding forwards. "I don't think that we could get out if we allowed ourselves to go."

"The trees are tempting me with promises of rustling leaves, shade, and peace. They want to be healed now and claim that we can do it by ourselves."

"All of the tree, bush, and general plant puns I know are rattling through my head. Saying just one would feel so good," he whined. "Or so they say."

"We need a distraction," she replied as they started to get smart remarks from passers-by.

"There's Trina's," said Roger, looking across the street. They'd finally made it to the intersection at the southeast corner of the park, but the pull was still strong. "Hmm, have you and Sarah ever used the Double Dragon on each other?"

"Oh, yes," Debbie replied with a salacious expression that made something stir within him. "On more than one cold winter night at both my place and hers, we'd have a bottle of wine or two and play strip poker. First one naked got a minute of the DD where it would do the most good." Even in the bright daylight he could detect a slight glow from her erogenous zones. He also started to feel the temptation to pun lessening. The light changed and they crossed the street. "Then the other one got it when she got naked. Play a Jack and the other got a buzz on the nipples. And so on." She had a faraway expression that caused Roger to gently guide her away from a street light post that she would have bumped into.

"OK, I think that's enough," he said hastily, feeling Little Lazarus waking up again and trying to divert his thoughts from what she had been saying. How the hell was he able to rebound so quickly after what had happened this morning? He examined the woodwork around the door to Trina's. "Look at the craftsmanship of the boards around the door!" Debbie gave him a poke, then caught him with a smoldering look.

"I'm wondering what the Double Dragon's effect on a man would be?" she asked in a sultry voice, pressing him against the side of the entrance alcove with her body.

"Eep?" quavered Roger helplessly. He was saved by the very timely opening of the door.

"Hello, Debbie. Hi, Roger," said Trina, looking out and up at them and putting her hands on her ample hips. "Do I need to get a bucket of water for you two?" Her brown eyes twinkled.

"No, not at all," Debbie replied smoothly, reluctantly disentangling herself. "Hey! Don't put the squeeze on me!" Roger was all wide eyes and batting eyelashes, despite her glower. Trina snickered.

"Why don't you come in and see the damage you've done to my store? I'm expecting a new shipment in a few minutes, and maybe Roger can help with the themed vibrators."

"I'll have to be careful with them," he said as they entered the store, and then looked around in surprise at the largely empty shelves. "The last thing I want is to get sued for copyright violation." He saw the table that Sarah had inadvertently changed into beech wood that had formerly had a display of vibrators that he had inadvertently caused to buzz to "Good Vibrations". The "What's the Buzz?" sign with the cartoon bee was askew. "You must have been under siege in here."

"I hope that the looting and pillaging was reasonably polite," Debbie added. "I have never heard of a run on an adult toy shop before."

"We've never had the town getting blasted by erotic energy before," Trina replied in her rich, mellow voice that could have had her working a job in broadcasting. "They were lined up at opening time on Saturday morning. It seemed that every adult in town, save for you two and Sarah, was there getting something."

"We're out to tell the town to come down to the park tonight. The big trees need some healing and we need as many people as we can get to come out and give them some love," said Roger quickly. "It will need more energy than we can provide on our own."

"You were involved with the tree incident last night, weren't you?" Trina mused, moving towards the back of the store. "That willow meant a lot to you, didn't it, Debbie?"

"All of those trees mean something to me," she replied, sitting on the edge of the vibrators table, "and to a lot of the people in the town. The Magic Plague has amplified my love of trees to the point where I can hear them talking to each other, and talk to them. The grove has a powerful magic in it now. It nearly grabbed us off the sidewalk as we were walking here. Please pass the word to your customers, if you don't mind."

"For sure, I will," Trina replied as a large delivery truck ground to a halt outside. "Ah, there's my shipment! I wonder how long it will last?"

"We'll toddle off," said Roger, moving towards the door. "We don't want to be underfoot while you're restocking," he said with a mischievous emphasis on "foot" and "stocking". Trina squawked and jumped and the black nylons she'd been wearing suddenly appeared on the table. The remainder of her clothing, namely a lime green knee-length skirt, a well-filled coral blouse, and white low-heeled shoes, stayed put.

"That was very naughty of you, mister Matheson," she scolded, complete with wagging finger. "Can you do that with my bra?" she added with an impish grin, grabbing the stockings. Debbie thought, and for no reason that she could think of, a pun that Roger had told her many years ago popped into her head.

"If a geographer were asked if her brassiere was sick, she'd respond 'Yes, my Brazil.'" Trina squawked again and her bra appeared on the table. Her breasts flopped down onto her chest with an audible plop and a very visible shifting under her blouse. "Wow, that's the biggest letdown I've seen since the past election's results." Debbie clapped her hands to her mouth with a stricken expression and Roger started laughing, whether at her expression or the pun was not certain.

"Oh, Debbie," said Trina in a sorrowful tone, shaking her head. But her eyes were twinkling and an almost-suppressed smirk played on her lips. "I expected better of you than that."

"It's Roger's fault! He corrupted me!" she cried, with perhaps a little more drama than was required. "I was a sweet, innocent teenager ... " Roger laughed harder and Trina snickered at the blatant lie, "when he introduced me to puns! Now they're the bane of my existence! You evil, evil man!" She gave his now-prostrate form a none-too-gentle kick in the back.

"You are even more trouble than Sarah is with him," Trina giggled as Roger was dragged to his feet. "Now run along," she continued as the door opened and a muscular black man with a hand cart stacked with boxes came in. "I have to give Lenny his tip," she concluded with a truly lascivious look. Roger and Debbie both noticed a bulge in his pants and a twinkle in his eyes, and they scurried outside.

"Do you think that she used us?" he inquired, tenderly feeling the sore spot in his middle back. "Ooh, I'll have to go to a bar to get some brews to deal with this bruise." His hand flashed turquoise and he jumped. "Ow!" He stood up shakily. "That's better."

"We took off the most annoying items of her clothing for her," said Debbie, looking around the street. There was some pedestrian traffic now that the stores were starting to open, and they continued down the sidewalk, "all for her convenience. She is definitely a good businesswoman, taking advantage of opportunities. And you shouldn't have laughed at me, buster!" He snickered in reply.

"That look of prim-and-proper Debbie was priceless. Totally worth the pain. But now I'm hungry," he added. "Is that place across the street any good?"

"Let's just go to Julia's," said Debbie, ignoring the growl from his stomach. "It's not much farther and they have good food, as you well know." He rolled his eyes as she picked up the pace.

"Am I being set up here?" he inquired suspiciously. She replied with wide eyes and batting eyelashes. "Even now, those beautiful blue eyes have the power to charm." He smiled charmingly at her.

"Oh, so now it's the sweet talk," she countered, equally suspiciously, but without heat. "Maybe Trina should come after us with a bucket of water." They had crossed the street that marked the southern edge of the downtown and Julia's Bed and Breakfast was visible in the next block.

"Damn it, I forgot about the poster!" Roger remembered, stopping short. "The print shop is on the other side of the street and we walked right by it!"

"We can deal with that after we eat," she asserted, after pulling out her phone and checking for messages. She saw the one from Ellen Dawes that she'd been waiting for, which read 'We're there!' She hid it when she saw him trying to peek. "No snooping!"

"I'm just trying to find out what you're getting me into," he replied dryly. "Don't look innocent. Even after all these years, I can tell when you're up to something!" They continued walking towards the grand old house that was Julia's Bed and Breakfast.

"I swear that sometimes it was like you were reading my mind," Debbie replied, remembering the various times he'd seen through her, especially in her sad times.

"It's because I took the time to notice," he replied quietly. By this time, they were at the steps of the veranda. She stopped and looked at him, noticing how his hazel eyes were shining.

"You, always with the sweet talk," she replied softly. "Even if we can get them back, I don't think that Joe would mind if I were to spend some time with you." Their kiss sent hot memories of their time together, of the times he'd been special and considerate to her, and times when he'd seduced her from a terrible mood into volcanic passion that his skilled lips, tongue, and fingers had brought to screaming eruption. "Wait! You're trying to distract me, aren't you?"

"Who, me?" he asked, the picture of innocence, still holding her to him.

"You know what happens when you wake the dragon," she growled, pushing him away with a snort. "If Julia has a spare room, you will find out how much I remember about what you like."

"Dang, so close," he snickered as they marched up the steps and opened the front door.

"You don't know just how close," she whispered, giving him a grope in the relative seclusion of the foyer and feeling that Little Lazarus was about half awake. He could see that her erogenous zones were glowing. "But we don't have time for what I want to do to you." They were interrupted by a demanding meow, and looked down to see Minnie the cat, who immediately started purring loudly and twining around their legs.

"Hello Minnie," said Roger, bending down to pet her. Debbie bent down as well and the cat enjoyed their combined attention for a few minutes, before abruptly getting up and trotting into the reception area. "Just like a cat," he added, standing up. All evidence of their arousal was gone.

"She probably saved us from some embarrassment," Debbie replied thoughtfully.

"Minnie!" called Roger in his soothing voice, and the cat looked over her shoulder. "Thank you." The cat replied with a "Mrrp" and a flick of her tail and trotted off deeper into the house.

"Wow, you got an acknowledgement," said Debbie, impressed.

"For centuries, people have thought that cats were psychic," he replied as they followed her. "Now, with magic popping up everywhere, maybe they will be proved correct." When they walked into the lobby, Emma stood up behind the check-in desk.

"Roger and Debbie, it's good to see you again!" she said brightly with a big smile.

"Aren't you going to say how surprised you are to see us?" he inquired sardonically.

"I called ahead to make a reservation," Debbie interjected smoothly. "Sunday brunch is popular here. Good luck getting in without one." Emma assumed a somewhat regal pose.

"Lady and gentleman, your table awaits," she announced in a quasi-British accent. Or maybe it was quasi-Australian - it was hard for them to tell.

"Gentleman? Where?" Roger asked, looking around. When he noticed the other two also looking around, he put his hands on his hips and said "Hey! That's my favourite Three Stooges line!"

"What is it with men and the Stooges?" groaned Debbie melodramatically, pushing Roger in the direction of the restaurant.

"What is it with women and the Stooges?" he retorted, putting up a token resistance as they approached its entrance. "Woob-woob-woob!" he said, making a classic (and bad) impersonation of Curly while making a deft maneuver to get himself out of Debbie's clutches, only to find himself staring directly into Emma's hazel eyes. She had moved to block his escape path, and being nearly as tall as he was, there was no slipping past her. They were close enough that her breasts were pressing slightly into his chest, and her haircut framed her oval face with a blonde halo that diverted Roger's attention momentarily from her slightly parted plump lips. He had to stomp down hard on an impulse to move his head just a little bit to kiss them.

"The restaurant is that way, mister Matheson," she said after a brief pause looking him straight in the eyes. "But nice try!" Thwarted, he reluctantly broke eye contact, turned around and saw Debbie waving at Sarah, who was at the far end of the room in the corner. Neither of them heard Emma mutter "Damn, damn, damn!" to herself.

"OK, hit it!" said Sarah and, after a pause, the opening chords of 'Oompa Loompa Love' started up from good-quality speakers. From what they could see, the room was nearly full.

"I knew it was a setup!" he protested as they pushed him in to a round of applause.