Izzy was tired and sore from helping Grup with his sexual tension and sore from lying looking up at the blue sky.She sits and slips her bra back in place, the cups holding and supporting her, a comforting feeling. One that would be more pleasant if it weren’t for the fact that most, but not all, of Grup’s cum has been cleaned up by Jacob and his shirt. The bra sticking in place.
She puts her shirt back on and helps Jacob to his feet. She waves at Grup as she and Jacob make their way into the bar. There is hardly room to move inside; still, they end up wading through the crowd.
The cat and his ever-watching eyes spot Izzy and Jacob, and he waves them toward him, almost desperate for their attention; however, the crowd is surging, and they can’t make their way to the bar. The harder they try, the harder the crowd pushes them toward reception. The cat looks at them imploringly. “Find the fox,” he begs, the voice sounding like it was said inches from Izzys ear.
Izzy gives a thumbs up to the overwhelmed Cat. The crowd forces them out of the bar and into the lobby, where Sue is actually busy for once. She waves quickly as the flow forces them outside.
Outside is less busy. Every spot in the parking lot is filled, as well as overflow parking in the grass nearby.
“What do we do?” Jacob asks slowly, letting his death grip go but not letting go of her hand.
“We do what Grup said; we head over the grass dunes,” Izzy says and tries to point to the small 50-foot-tall hill. She is surprised to see A dust cloud obscures the area on the other side of the road. As they get closer, they see inside the wall of dust are caravans and cars and cars with caravans all slowly driving in a circle.
“It’s a caravan of caravans? We will have to walk around the outside. I don’t want to play Frogger today,” Izzy says and pulls Jacob with her as they walk a wide half-circle around the chaos.
Jacob can’t take his eyes off the strange chaos and organization that is going on with all of the cars. But soon they climb to the top of the dune and look back. From above, Izzy can see that the cars with their trailers are fighting for a place like a broken game of musical chairs. With a sudden collective movement like birds or fish, they all pull into place and shut off their engines, forming a perfect circle of 50 cars.
In the quiet, Izzy sees three women standing in the middle.
a short one with long black hair who is shouting loudly, “Andrea, no, back up 4 inches. Don’t give me your attitude; you’re the only one who isn’t in the correct position; we both know what happened last year.”
Another of the women, tall and wearing heels, shouts, “No backup, go back. Hey, you, go back.” She sounds like a parrot to everything the short one says. A younger echo.
While the third looks at Izzy and Cane. Her singular eye piercing through them both. Their history lay bare before her. “Oh dearys,” she says.
The older women nudges the tall and short women and points at Jacob and Izzy. They stop their shouting and watch the threads of fate of the two humans whip around them, the strings tugging on unseen strings in an unfathomably complex web of relationships and connections.
The women watch in silence as Izzy and Jacob survey the circle of caravans.
Jacob can feel the weight of their glare. He blinks, and the trio blinks.
Izzy is looking forward toward the next dune to climb. The view is impressive if you’re into rolling grass-covered hills. Izzy tugs on Jacob’s arm, breaking him free of his glaring contest, and together bound in fate, they start walking down the other side.
The older woman smiles. “Oh, this is new.”
The youngest woman laughs. “Is it? It feels like it always was.”
“Andrea, don’t make me come. over there and move your car for you,” the middle-aged one says.
Izzy and Jacob walk down the other side of the hill. They let go of each other’s hand; there is no reason to cling together. The air is quiet on this side. Everything is peaceful, just waves of grass moving in the wind. After 15 minutes, they stand at the crest of the next hill.
Izzy takes Jacob’s hand again. A faint whisper of his thoughts drifts through her mind. ‘You’re warm. You smell like orc cum; it’s hot.’
“Glad you think it’s hot,” Izzy laughs. She turns to him, pulling him close, their bodies pressed together, and she kisses him, her psychic wounds healing a little more. The emotional feedback loop is helping to stabilize her internal thoughts.
Together they walk down the dune and climb up the third; at the crest of the hill they see in the valley below a small house made out of sod. The windows are round, with a porch covered by an overhang that has sunflowers growing on it. Inside the porch is a bench and a rocking chair. The chair containing a sleeping fox curled up on a blanket as the chair rocks in the breeze
Jacob’s eyes open wide in delight. “It’s a hobbit hole.”
Izzy looks at the dwelling. “It really looks like one, doesn’t it?” She looks over the yard and sees a large garden perfectly tended with radishes and carrot stalks, potatoes and tomatoes, cucumbers, and the usual assortment of garden delights. “But no fence around the garden?”
Izzy and Jacob walk down the dune on a small stone path that leads to the porch; they walk together. “That really is a fox on the porch.” jacob remarks.
As they get to the first step leading onto the porch jacob asks “Do you think it’s her? Is it a pet or what?”.
“It might be, but maybe she is inside. Hey, if you’re Yoko, wake up and talk to us,” Izzy says, unsure if there is etiquette to this situation, so she is just resorting to her tired office worker training.
When the fox doesn’t lift its head, Izzy knocks on the door instead. The loud knocking wakes the fox up; it shows its teeth to Izzy and Jacob and makes a “kon kon” sound. Izzy takes a step back, her hand shooting out performing the mom pushing the brakes too hard at a stop sign maneuver, pushing Jacob back with her.
The fox lays its head down again and closes one eye; the other it keeps open to watch the uninvited guests.
A masculine voice shouts from inside, “I’m coming, I’m coming, one moment.” A young Japanese man opens the door, his white shirt and loose tie clean and pressed. Izzy’s eyes drift down his body. He is wearing business pants and polished black shoes.
The man looks at Izzy confused. “Can I help you? Did someone invite you?”
“We are looking for Yoko Kitsune,” Izzy says, feeling as Jacob moves beside her.
The man looks down at the fox. “What do you want with her?” he asks, then looks up at Izzy. The corners of his lips show a frown as he looks back down at the fox pretending to be sleeping.
“She is needed at work,” Izzy says after 10 long seconds of silence. “Do you know where she is?”
The salaryman-looking human crosses his arms defensively. “She quit. Tell the monster that she is done with him,” he says, turning to return inside.
Izzy reaches out and touches his hand. A trickle of memories flows into her mind. Cloudy images fire, alcohol, love, sadness, joy, and pain.
He yanks his hand away, shaking it, restraining himself from violence. “It’s rude to take someone’s memories,” he says, his expression going dark.
“I—uh—I didn’t.” Izzy says, “People can’t do that; that is preposterous.” This time it is her turn to play the fool.
He touches her again. She sees a child playing in a shrine.
He pulls away. “You’re sensitive, and if you didn’t know, now you do.”
“Is it permanent?” Izzy asks.
“Depends on how it happened,” the salaryman says calmly.
“How does it normally happen?.” She asks, sitting down on the wooden bench; it creaks comfortingly. It too has flaws.
“You’re born that way; I am slightly sensitive,” he says dismissively, pulling the door open.
“I had a run-in with a bad man,” Izzy adds before the man can leave.
“Then it should be temporary,” he says, rubbing his chin. “I have never heard of it lasting more than a few months.”
The fox watches the exchange. She rolls on her back, and the man closes the door and moves to scratch her belly. She playfully bites his hand.
The businessman sits on the step of the porch; the fox jumps into his lap and continues to pretend to sleep.
“She won’t go back to the ranch because she is too proud,” he says.
“But the cat will forgive her,” Jacob says.
“But will she forgive herself?” the man says with a sigh.
“I don’t know.” Izzy says, “But today he needs her; tomorrow they can negotiate.”
“You don’t understand, but we can fix that,” he says and touches her hand gently and pushes his memory into her. She lets them in.
