Chapter Four: Secondhand Twitch — Part 3

ChoCho may move careful, like he has to consider every muscle and its placement. He’s known to keep his voice kind of slow, like the words he’s using don’t come quickly to his lips, but he isn’t stupid. He knows Daria’s intentions, has seen her eyes drift on men and women alike. He’s seen her eyes linger on Jynx, as if memorizing the shape of her body and all its parts. He’s watched Daria’s touches most closely. He knows the balance Jynx sees in him, and is certain that Daria knows it too. Whatever past the two ladies shared between them, whatever presence they are sharing now, it isn’t the source of his current concerns. He’s suspicious of the situation, it’s too comfortable for his tastes, and so he hasn’t been doing anything but sipping his beer, pouring it out once or twice, or sharing it with his neighbor, when his stein is close enough, and the shadow deep enough, to allow it. By the time Daria has snuck Jynx from his side, he’s smoked two bowls of tobacco and downed a cup of coffee in the darkness beyond the fire just to keep awake.

He’s careful to sit down where he can see the truck. He’s careful to look sleepy, and then look asleep. He’s careful to listen to everything around him. Most importantly, ChoCho is careful not to nod off. He watches with all his senses as Jynx and Daria disappear from view, and don’t come back. The storyteller and the paladins retire for the night, and most of the pirates are asleep around a fire recently built up on the other side of camp. At one in the morning, the only thing warm is the dwindling flame, but because he is listening to Joe as his voice is carried back toward the coals, ChoCho doesn’t even allow himself to shiver.

” — Daria and Jynx disappeared hours ago. You know what that means.” Joe sounds like he’s leering at somebody, ChoCho suspects that he’s masturbating.

“Yeah, it means two fuck-happy girls asleep in a tent.” The other voice chuckles, but ChoCho can’t readily identify it.

“I wonder if Jynx will stay with us in the morning?” Joe says.

“Don’t you think that’s what Daria’s counting on?” The other voice sounds momentarily strained.

“Jynx has to stay. If we keep psycho girl around, Daria will be distracted enough that you will be able to convince the other council members to vote you in. Her boy, Kevin, he might just be pushed aside as well.” Joe sounds confident, as if he’s been planning this coupe from the beginning.

ChoCho suspects he’s lying.

The other voice seems consistently sarcastic. “Not to mention the fact that we need more women in the group. It’s a veritable cock fest around here.”

“So what should we do?” Joe asks, sounding almost prying to ChoCho’s ears.

To ChoCho it’s official. The two are most definitely jerking each other off, at least figuratively. Joe’s tone is confident, as if he’s talking to his best friend. The other man sounds squirmy, as if he harbors a hundred secrets. ChoCho tries not to think of Joe engaging intimately with some anonymous, manipulative male, because it brings a bitter taste to his mouth. Instead he tries to think of the situation as two men bargaining in a play for power that is purely verbal in nature, which is most probably what it is. ChoCho has no interest in men like Joe, far less interest in the whiny, power hungry creature Joe is talking to.

“We have to keep her here.” The strange man’s voice cracks a little, as if struggling for a solution is beyond his grasp.

“The caravan won’t be ready to move for at least two days. We need to organize our fuel, plan our route, maneuver loads so we can carry people and cargo, and settle as a team on an end goal. We have a lot to do and very few capable minds to carry it through. In the meantime, Jynx has to stay here to keep Daria’s mind off the games. I think her truck is going to suffer a minor malfunction, tomorrow morning, early, say, two AM.” Joe says.

“I can have my tools back at that hour.” The other voice says. “What about the boy?”

“He’s harmless. You saw how she protected him. I bet he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper sack. Besides, I’m sure he’ll side with us, when he sees what we’re planning. All this is for the best for everybody. Jynx has what this party needs to survive.” Joe says.

“Yeah, a truck, a trailer, and fresh ovaries.” The other man laughs, and then moans, maybe because he’s been hit.

“Don’t be late.” Joe says quietly, his own voice wavering momentarily toward disgust.

The voices curb off, and the sounds of one person walking away are what ChoCho hears first. He can’t quite fathom the next sounds, building over minutes to a harsh, desperate breathing, but he thinks it must be what passes between two men for shushed orgasms. Then there is silence, and another set of steps rush off. ChoCho is suddenly suspicious. He really thought there was only two people, now he’s certain that one person has circled back for a fling, and even with the departure of a second person, his gut is telling him to stay still a moment longer. He pretends to sleep a little more, knowing two AM is an hour and a half away. After almost twenty minutes, he hears the quiet steps of retreat; a third set of feet he had not known was with the first two, his suspicions confirmed. After ten more minutes he’s up, writing in his blocky style on a piece of typing paper with a pen he’s grabbed from a registration table:

Daria,

My time is short, but I promise you that my temper is not. Ask Joe, in public, and at your earliest convenience about Trucks, Trailers, and Ovaries.

Do this before the caravan sets out. I would say I’m sorry for taking Jynx from your warm bed, especially on so cold a morning, but that would be a lie.

Regards

Juan Wu, aka ChoCho.

He’s remembered where Daria’s tent is from the day before, when he scouted out the whole camp, and he’s moving through the brush as quietly and quickly as he can. Nobody but him seems to be awake. He knows that somewhere at least two men are probably even more alert than he is. The chill air, pump of adrenaline, and his own fretful sweat do little to take the shaking chill from his bones. In moments he’s inside Daria’s hut, the scent of sex faded to an almost undefinable permeation of air and environment. Daria has rolled over so that her body is disconnected from Jynx, hogging most of the sleeping bag. Jynx is lying on her back, face up, sleeping. Jynx and Daria both have the same kind of snore. ChoCho nudges Jynx until her eyes open. She startles, and then calms herself when she feels his finger on her lips. ChoCho’s scent is so familiar to Jynx that it is overwhelming to her. ChoCho’s skin is dark enough that she can barely make out the edges of his features, so that scent, combined with his urgent, otherwise toneless half whisper, wakes her up, putting her nervous system on edge.

“Jynx, please. We have to go now.” He whispers in her ear.

He’s so serious that Jynx knows better than to argue. She starts putting on her clothes as quickly as she can, leaving behind anything that she can’t readily see as hers. Jynx pulls her socks up over her knees, then shoves her boots on, tightening the laces with a mixture of habit and hurry. She isn’t entirely certain whose lace panties she has pulled on, but they seem to fit either way. Jynx closes her skirt around her hips and buckles its belt by touch. The tulle slip that she had under her skirt, however, is somewhere in the pile of blankets and sleeping bags she had been sleeping in just moments before, and she doesn’t dare try to get it for fear of waking Daria. Jynx isn’t heavy enough in the chest to worry about her bra, so she pulls a sweater shirt on while ChoCho stuffs something into one of his pockets. She ties back her hair with her skull and cherry clips so it won’t get in her eyes, and she realizes, almost with regret, that she is ready. Still in a hurry, ChoCho pulls her toward the tent flap, but she hesitates. Her eyes and voice are pleading.

“Let me at least leave a note.” Jynx says.

It’s almost totally dark in the tent. The tiny pin lights that make the tent feel safe and cozy are too dim to write by. The flap is closed, to keep the chill out, and there really isn’t more than starlight to navigate by to begin with. Jynx keeps feeling around for something, anything to write with, to see with, and to write on, somehow managing not to wake Daria up in the process. ChoCho somehow manages to keep the agitation out of his voice when he hands her the letter he’s written for Daria with its face down, along with a pen to write with, and has pulled Jynx to the edge of the tent, where his red LED pen light is least likely to bother Daria’s sleep.

“Write on the back.” ChoCho is beginning to show more concern than when he first arrived.

Jynx scans ChoCho’s notes while she thinks of what to write. She’s feeling guilty for her involvement with Daria, even though ChoCho isn’t expressing any outward signs of having been hurt by her choice. Her eyes grow wide as she finishes the letter, but Jynx writes a note on the back of the sheet, expressing careful concern for what ChoCho has written on the front side of the paper. She writes with a flourish, but quickly. Her words are chosen carefully, because she doesn’t want to hurt Daria’s feelings:

Daria,

ChoCho woke me early this morning bearing the news you will read on the other side. We cannot stay here. Please, be strong, and teach your women to fight.

Unregrettably Yours.

Jynnifer (Jynx) Solano

ChoCho takes Jynx’s hand and pulls her from the tent. Jynx doesn’t look back as the she and ChoCho creep quietly through tents and past the poorly equipped fire guard toward the parking lot where their truck waits, facing toward the open road. The fire guard doesn’t even stir. He’s young, fifteen maybe, tired, possibly even asleep. ChoCho sees his face in the dim orange glow of the fire, an arrogant roman nose, not overly large, and hair somewhere between blonde and red, at least by the light of the fire. His eyes are closed, and a tiny bit of drool has managed to slip from the corner of his mouth. His armor is black as the night around him, and polished so it looks crisp. Looking away from the boy and the fire, ChoCho moves around the edge of light, keeping to the shadows caused by the bushes that surround the clearing. In moments, the night sky brightens again as ChoCho’s eyes dilate and adjust.

Two minutes after two in the morning, ChoCho and Jynx are at the edge of the parking lot. The Girl is still thirty seconds away. ChoCho scans the lot with keen, careful eyes. Jynx doesn’t know what he’s looking for but his urgency has her nervous. His hand tightens on hers: The time to move, apparently, is now.

Advertise Here