Josephine waited. The bouncing faded off into a predictable rhythm. It was nice. The slit of light stayed sort of faded. That kind of glow was really nice.
She heard his voice. A southern California lilt to it, a waster, she could hear it. The "dude" wanted to come out of that distorted mouth so bad. You can hear restraint when it’s not natural. It blows the strands in your ears wrong. It makes your neck jerk and tear a bit. Ah, Josephine hated that. It twitched inside her spine.
Only her head cocked, nothing else. She still held the arms of the soft throne, ten drips of red varnish visible even in the half light.
The light grew wider and then spread open.
He whispered for his Betty. Josephine had a half smile from the half light. She squinted just a bit. Not like Clint or anything but enough for her focus to look cool.
He was surprised. Scared. No wait, it’s a treat, just what I need, he thought.
Hello was all that came out of that crooked mouth.
He really wanted his squawk back. He really wanted to say Dude, hey, cool you’re here.
The Jesus wouldn’t like that, no way. All of his gods landlords never said Dude, not even during the late sermons, the one’s where even they were tired of the good book’s orders.
Hello. Josephine had a fine greeting. It was perfectly even until it got to the end of the last vowel and then it dipped slightly in volume.
He wanted to turn on a light. Sure. She stood up as he went for the switch on the pale yellow lamp Betty had brought with her.
She stood well, too. She was quite petite but it was like no one ever told her. She acted big, yeah. No, she acted Tall. Tall Girl she was once called. Yeah. She liked that.
Her curves were more inviting then the Converter had ever suspected. The talk of the Betties wasn’t about her loveliness. It was more about her silence. It was about the voice she made so clear and memorable by only using it sparingly. It was reverence. Like a sort of Jesus. A pin up looking Jesus at that.
He was like cellophane. She could see the veins and meat as they popped and jumped, the heart. She could see the heart.
Well?
He started to speech her. She didn’t care for any kind of speeches. They all started and ended the same.
His Jesus could save her, take her from all of this. His Guy could really show her the warmth of a love she’d never known which was so obvious seeing that this is her chosen field.
Josephine heard, oh, maybe every 8th word. It ended with the same kind of thud that all the preachy gobs drop. She yawned like a Lion. He didn’t see it.
She took a step forward and walked past him, turned into his back. She was this close, this fucking close.
He was scared of his Saviour. He was scared of this world. This time, this place. He could tremble if he wasn’t so stiff.
Josephine’s whiff was so sweet. Soft. That’s the only word for it. Cherry Vanilla. He almost said the m’s out loud.
What are you afraid of, Miss Josephine?
She paused the perfect amount of seconds. She let the last letters of her name drip off of his tongue. His tongue wanted to taste her so bad. Worse than the Dude slipping from it, he wanted it to slip in her. Over her. What a welling of this thing, this thing she conjured, what was it?
Then it came again. Her voice, so rare to the air it was.
Shhhhhhhh. I’m tired.
She wrapped her arms around his waist.
So unexpected.
He felt her on his back, like a hillside, curves aplenty. He held her hands above his belt. She laid her head between his blades and closed her eyes and sighed.
He felt peace. He did, he felt it! Just like the Jesus promised only he never delivered it like this! She was rescuing him, wasn’t she? She was, he was chosen special. He was picked.
No words. No fucking words. No sounds past between them.
This moment took him for everything he had, everything he stood for was never invented.
Now he existed.
She loosened and came to his front, to his face.
She saved her speak. She gave him silence so he could hear his own voice again, not that of the Landlord’s.
He’d hope for her and he’d wait forever.
He’d have to....
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