A Tabled Affair part five

Did you take a moment to remember Matthew Shepard?:

"The Matthew Shepard Foundation was founded by Dennis and Judy Shepard in memory of their 21-year old son, Matthew, who was murdered in an anti-gay hate crime in Wyoming in October 1998" (Matthew Shepard Foundation, 2010, para. 1). You can get more information here {à} at Matthew Shepard Foundation.

Coming out day:

"Whether you're lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or a straight ally, be proud of who you are and your support for LGBT equality this Coming Out Day!" (Human Rights Campaign, 2011, para. 1). They have a fantastic website! Take time to share the wonderful stories! National Coming Out Day is quickly approaching…mark your calendars – Tuesday, October 11, 2011.

Hank's podcast:

Weeee doggie! Hank snatchy-snooed yet another great opportunity. Get familiar with this Dr. Dick's link because Story Orgy's very own Hank Edwards will be sharing his goodies in...wait, catch this…wait for it…wait… a podcast! Yep, I know! *Squee* Hank's voice for all to hear. I'm stoked! His podcasts will be available next week. Don't worry. I'll remind you *grin*.

SO goodies and Jade recognition:

Okay, Jade. Me and you have to talk. This sexy blog thing you have going on? Yeah, you know the one. You're rockin' with the hot flashes... Just sayin' J Keep it up...I love it! *cups hand and whispers* nice pic this week too. Thank you for your inspiration *wink*.

Paranormal reminder:

 Now, finally…remember that thing about Story Orgy having a paranormal month for October. Well, I'm an extremist and it's either lovey dovey, heavy duty, or gooey gory. Just stick around long enough to catch me in action *giggles*. So, moving on to Damian and his "tabled affair". What's that about? …

…let's find out, shall we?

A Tabled Affair part 5

Damian had several different routes he could have taken, but he had opted to take the back roads. He had wanted plenty of time to talk – or think or…whatever – with whoever was inside his head. He presumed it was Ms. Feagley.

Damian propped his arm up in the window, waving his hand in the air. "Where are you now? Huh?" Damian drove slow, his windows down and cursing at the wind. "This is crazy. No. This is fucking absurd!"

I can't talk with you if you're not rational, Damian.

"Rational? How the fuck am I sup-"

Damian.

Damian looked in the rearview mirror then glanced over his shoulder. Nothing. He threw his hands in the air. "What? Damian what!?"

He watched the wheel turn with the curve in the road, holding a steady line with the rise and fall of the long stretch of lonely road passing under his tires. He dropped his hands to his lap as he stared open-mouthed. "Oh shit."

Damian. Don't be a fool. Take the wheel.

The voice was loving, yet steadfast. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he recognized that voice. And it wasn't Ms. Feagley. "You sound just like…" Damian shook his head in disbelief as he turned the radio all the way up with one hand and grabbed the wheel with the other. But the blaring radio didn't make a bit of difference. The voice still came through loud and clear.

Have you lost all your good sense?

He turned the radio back down. "Why yes. I think I have."

Trust me, Damian. Your happiness, your life. They depend on it. You've got to trust me.

"Fine. You win. But I need a name."

Turn left.

"I am not turning down that road. I don't have time. Do you know what's down there?"

I do.

"No. I'm not going."

The radio came back on without warning, the volume on low. Damian drove on, taking the course he had intended to take, ignoring both the news radio and the fact that the voice inside his head remaining silent bothered him.

Realizing he was almost to Mauricio's house, Damian turned the radio off, leaned over to his glove compartment and pulled out a box of cigarettes.

I bet Mauricio loves you smelling like a-

"Sheesh! Do you see everything I do?" Damian tossed the box to the floorboard and stomped on it with his free foot. "There."

You do have a little sense left. No, I don't see everything you do. I choose not to.

"How encouraging."

Damian, slow down.

"Why do you-"

Slow down. The voice insisted.

Damian rounded a curve in the road, knowing he still had a little ways to go. But this time, out of nowhere, there was a crossing guard holding up his sign. Damian slammed on his breaks, screeching to a stop. The crossing guard peered eerily into the car at Damian, as he continued across the road.

"What the hell is he doing on this road?" 

All that matters is you didn't listen to me.

"Yeah yeah. And, what was your name again?" Damian couldn't control the loftiness in his tone if his life depended on it.

You know who I am.

"Aghh!" Damian growled through the clenched teeth while he turned onto the residential street leading into Mauricio's neighborhood. The radio popped on again, playing one of Damian's favorite songs, Change the World, by Eric Clapton.

Letting his thoughts wander, Damian slowed to a crawl, barely rolling down the street while he listened to the song. Damian's mother would sing that song to him when he was little. She would push the furniture to the side in the living room and then he would climb on top of her feet, holding tight to her hands, and they would dance.

Damian drew a deep breath, trying to clear the sting from the back of his eyes. The memory hurt so badly, he thought his chest would explode. He could feel the cartilage stretching between his ribs and he focused on that. Then it hit him. The air was thick with the savory scent of home cooking. "I know that smell."

Yes you do. And you know more than you give yourself credit for too.

"Dammit!" Damian hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "Who the fuck do you think you…oh my God." Damian swallowed hard, choking down the fear and hope stuck in his throat. Whipping into Mauricio's drive, Damian slammed his car into park, killed it, and ran to the middle of the road.

Damian stood in utter shock. "Ms. Feagley?"

Uncomprehending of Mauricio yelling for him, Damian walked slowly in the direction of the blue-haired lady smiling and waving through the open window. The smell of gingerbread wafted through the curtains, reminding Damian of his mother and the family heirloom recipe.

She had always baked those cookies when the fall weather came. And just like Ms. Feagley, she would let them cool in the breeze of an open window, making all the neighbors' mouths water. And then the voice in his head continued to draw him closer.

Nibble, nibble, mousekin.

"Who's nibbling at my housekin?" Damian's reply was unconscious as he swallowed hard, trying to move the lump that had formed in his throat. The memory of the game they had played, the story his mother had told while baking the cookies, was wedged in the forefront of his mind.  

Damian reached toward the window, staring into the soulful eyes of Ms. Feagley, he accepted the cookie she offered. "I had no idea you lived across the street from Mauricio. How are you?"

Completely bowled over by the entire ordeal, Damian tried to push the reverie, the vision of his mother from his mind.

Ms. Feagley wiggled her fingers and smiled, waving and looking across the street. "I moved in about six months ago and doing well. That striking young man must be Mauricio."

Dazed by the likeness of Ms. Feagley's tone to the voice in his head, Damian followed the pointing finger to Mauricio standing in his front yard next to Damian's car in the driveway, his hands on his hips and a confused look on his face.

"Yes ma'am. That's him. So, you moved in here about the same time I went on probation?"

With a slight nod, Ms. Feagley handed Damian a few cookies wrapped in a paper towel. "Yes, you could say that. Take these and share with your friend. I have more in the oven I have to tend to." 

"Thanks, Ms. Feagely. It was good to see you again." Damian turned and headed back to Mauricio's.

Stepping off the curb and into the street, Damian heard Ms. Feagley again.

You and Mauricio should come see my library sometime.

Unsure of whether it was the voice in his head or really her, Damian looked back to see but Ms. Feagely was nowhere to be seen. "Here we go again." Damian mumbled to himself, not realizing he was already across the street and within hearing range of Mauricio.

"What was that you said?" Mauricio lifted one eyebrow.

"I said, 'how's my man?'"

~~**TBC**~~

Hmm…I smell cookies, hear voices and drive with no hands…Oh my! *Widens eyes and cocks head* What the hell? Okay, I'm just gonna leave that alone for now. I have nooooo comments. Nope. Uh uh. Not me.

I wonder what the other Story Orgiasts have going on this week. This paranormal stuff really has me on the edge of my not-so-Monday'n seat {get it? LOL *ahem*}

Movin' right along:

*Takes hand and clicks your mouse button on one of the links below*

Em Woods - http://authoremwoods.com/

Hank Edwards - http://hankedwardsbooks.com/blog/

Havan Fellows - http://havanshawthaven.blogspot.com/

  Lee Brazil - http://leebrazilauthor.blogspot.com/

Jade Basier (SO Photographer) - http://jadebaiser.blogspot.com/