If I approach her, if I reach out, then what…?

Rohan’s own thoughts even abandoned him, leaving along with sense and reason, as he watched her. She stood, as she often did, in the field of blue flowers, studying them with an intensity he wished anyone looked at him with.

What brings her here? Why to this spot? There’s nothing but flowers--

His thoughts, and her attention, were broken by the whizzing blur of an arrow passing by her head and landing in between them.

She flinched, and only then noticed him. Thinking he had something to do with it, she threw her hands towards him. He wasn’t ready for the blast of blue light that picked him up and tossed him backwards.

After he landed on his back, after the air returned to his lungs, he picked himself up to look around. Then he had to hit the ground again to escape the notice of the creatures that now surrounded the woman.

They spoke to her in a language that sounded like it was comprised of the noises of digestion. It didn’t sound good, at least until she spoke it back to them. Then it sounded like music.

Pay attention, moron.

He was so entranced by her that he didn’t notice she was pointing at him.

Pointing at him and yelling in that strange language.

Pointing at him and looking like she was turning him over to them.

And then having that confirmed by the creatures beginning to head toward him.

He jumped to his feet and began to run. The beasts lumbered behind him, but he dared not look back, especially once the footsteps hit the ground more regularly. Heading for the trees, he began to zig and zag around them, and the clunky sounds of bodies hitting them, then the ground, told him he was somewhat successful.

He told himself not to get cocky, but he couldn’t help a look back at this point.

Only one creature was behind him, and it looked winded. So winded, in fact, that it stopped and put its hands on its knees, heaving for air.

Looking to gain distance, he turned to look at the road ahead of him.

The object of his affection stood in his path.

She almost looked apologetic and sad as she knocked him down with a blast of blue light yet again.

This time he went out, and woke up in a dark space. His hands and feet were bound together with rope that made sandpaper feel like silk, and he began to holler and beat on the sides of whatever it was he was in.

A door flew open to his left, he rolled toward it trying to escape.

Something a lot less pretty than the woman of blue flowers snapped out one of its meaty arms and put him back out again.

He came to again as his prison jerked to a stop and the door opened again. This time, he was gagged as well, and one of the creatures grabbed him and jerked him up over a shoulder like a sack of garbage.

Trying to take in his surroundings as he was rocked, back and forth, his face coming in much closer contact with the beast’s rear end than he ever wanted to, he saw her again, following the caravan.

He liked her a little less now. But just a little.

Her eyes stared straight ahead. If she had any remorse for sending an innocent man to what may be slaughter, she did not show it.

The group came to a stop. Orders were shouted, even if he didn’t understand them, he knew what orders sounded like, and the group around him formed up in lines.

His ride brought him forward, and with something that could pass for tenderness all things considered, whipped him off his shoulder and set him on his feet. A stake was placed up against his back, and he was tied to it. Another near nauseating ride later, he and the stake were picked up and bashed into the ground at high speed.

Now he was standing up straight, ready for the show with no place to go.

Efficient, I guess.

He looked up to see an even larger version of the creatures from the forest stand up from a large throne. The throne was made of skulls. Skulls, he was sure, used to belong to guys just like him.

The ruler stomped down and stared him in the eyes, then took a step back, stretched out his arms and began to yell something to the heavens. The beasts around him all hit a knee and began to growl responses.

The ruler opened its mouth as it stepped closer. The two rows of sharp teeth did nothing to quell the bad feeling and he screamed impotently at the gag. When the foul breath hit his nose, he almost passed out from the reek, wishing that gag was higher up his face.

More declaiming, this at close range, and with this, the other creatures jumped up and began to hop up and down, chanting something over and over again.

The ruler reached behind him. With a speed that was surprising considering the small, fat, scaled claws at the end of its arms, a sword was at his throat. His eyes widened, and he began a silent prayer to ask forgiveness.

He figured salvation was not coming.

This is what he decided to concentrate on, so he closed his eyes. Sure, there was screaming in that language, and the rattle of metal, and some thuds around him, but he just figured this was it, it was part of the rites, and he had to make things good with the other side before he got there.

He didn’t open his eyes until a soft hand touched his face and pulled down the gag.

When he did, he saw piles of green scaly flesh where threatening creatures once stood.

The ruler began to stir, what was left of it, and the woman, her of the blue flowers, turned and unleashed a hellacious orange fireball at the beast, and it was really no more then.

After a good amount of distance was put between them and the now smoldering wreckage of the city of the creatures, he asked why...well, why everything?

Why turn him over to them? Then, why save him? And why, now, are they traveling together?

He was angry, he was hurt, and it would have to be one hell of an explanation for him to keep going anywhere with this woman.

“I had to do it,” she said, then kissed him, deeply and passionately.

Good enough for me.

It caught us both by surprise

But we caught on quick

Clearly, it was on our minds

Somewhere in the back of them

Somewhere in the back of a room

Most of our friends there

But it might as well have been

A silent grotto, a still lake

The branches of a weeping willow

Falling around us

The words of our usual banter

Paused

A look in the eyes not there before

Alight

Before a thought could cross again

Together

I wish I could say it was the start

Of many great years together

But I can hope you see it like I do

That it was the fire I still feel

Every now and then

That I learned how great love is

And that I've carried that feeling

And tried to give it to others

But, at least, if nothing else

I hope it brings you a private smile

And the blush of youth yet again

Three and two, Ace walked the bases full on purpose just to get to me, and my life is on the line.

Forget the game.

Forget the championship.

Life. And home. And May-Lynn.

I had come to Hawaii to play out the string on my baseball career, the has-been that never was. Come to find out that baseball never was the point of all of this.

Everywhere we’ve played, from just off of the U.S.S. Arizona in Pearl Harbor, to an island near Molokai that appeared out of the ocean just for us to play ball on, to inside Haleakala volcano with Pele the volcano goddess in attendance, and baseball was besides the point.

And I was missing the point when I took Ace up on his challenge.

Flash back to a few weeks earlier. I had landed in Honolulu and had my first encounter with Tehani. I wouldn’t have thought too much about it, plenty of little girls in Hawaii, except for the fact that she had been dead five decades by the time I met her.

And she was there to be my guiding spirit. My foul mouthed, vengeful, little guardian angel.

I met her outside the airport. She saw me and then scared all hell out of me by literally walking through traffic to get to me. Then she continued to scare all hell out of me to keep me coming back to the Sunset Aloha Cafe.

Owned by my ex-wife.

The woman who hated me and could’ve, quite happily, lived without me in her life. May-Lynn Rogers.

Apparently, her assignment was to get us back together, her higher ups must’ve sent her because it would be good for us.

And I tried to tell Tehani, tried to point out to her that she died way before some jerk like me got a little scared about “losing their freedom” after getting married, then found the most convenient willing woman to screw (and screw her over) with. And then, other than signing the divorce papers, had no other contact with her since. Just hit the road and got on with my baseball career.

She talked me into it by ripping open her face and having her skull scream at me.

In the time since, by working on both my stubborn self and appealing to something May-Lynn didn’t know she still had, Tehani was getting us back to a place where things could start working out again.

She even came with us on a road trip, and we spent a couple of days together in a wonderful forest where I played a game on a field created by magical creatures that I kept from doing their job and messing up the field.

But she still thought I was cute.

My teammates, not so much. But she did.

But none of this sunk in, that it had nothing to do with baseball and less to do with me and what I wanted. I was here to get myself right so I could treat her right.

And I let Ace get to me, make me finally grow a spine and make it stiffen at the wrong time all at once.

He challenged me for ownership of the league. Literally, ownership of the league.

Come to find out, he’s some kind of supernatural being. Like a god, or Satan, or whatever.

See, I thought it was kind of odd that I was playing ball with all these people with deep thoughts. I love baseball, and the players are great guys to hang out with, but you’re not getting personal advice and wise sayings when standing at first. But guys were getting on base and telling me that people that were wronged have to have strength to forgive. Or that you’re not the hero to the person you’re stopping from getting what they want.

Or perfectly quoting Shakespeare. Giving speeches while trotting out a home run that would make a politician cry.

And through all of that, I apparently learned nothing, because I took a challenge from a supernatural being.

That if I lost to Ace, I would lose my baseball skills to him. No big deal.

But he would also send me back in time. And make the world forget I ever existed. Except for me. I would remember everything.

And lose May-Lynn after finally getting close to getting back in her life.

And my damn spine acted up.

The two women in my life had different reactions that still boiled down to disappointment.

Tehani told me she told her bosses that it was a waste of time. That I was too competitive and would take the bait and lose everything. She didn’t yell, or cry, or tear her head and foot off and juggle with it, just said “I told them” as she faded out of view, making me wish she had.

May-Lynn dropped me with a right hand before we boarded a plane to the Big Island without saying a word.

Then did it again.

We didn’t see each other until after my team clinched a spot in the championship game. She didn’t have anything to say to me, or even look at me, when I met her at her restaurant when she was locking up.

I’m the one that had to step up and give her something I hadn’t given her in all the time we’d known each other.

My honesty.

So I went back to the beginning, and finally gave it to her.

“I remember telling you that day that you made me cheat. With your nagging and everything else. I regret every part of what I did, but I regret that the most. You could put that woman in a lineup with my mother, someone I’d never met, and Pamela Anderson and I still wouldn’t be able to pick her out as the woman I went to bed with, because I didn’t know her, I didn’t want to know her, she was just the means to an end.

“When we had lunch the other day, you and I both know that wasn’t me talking because I’m too much of a coward to admit that I’m a coward.

“And nothing’s changed. I’m still selfish. Instead of thinking, ‘How will this bet affect my chances with May-Lynn?,’ or, more important, ‘How much will it hurt her?,’ I thought, ’I can take this guy, and I don’t care who tells me otherwise.

“My baseball skills, if I thought it would get me off the hook, I’d give them to that bastard now. If we lose that game, it’s not baseball I’m going to regret losing.”

She hadn’t looked at me the whole time I spoke, except at the end for a moment, and when she looked away, I figured I should go.

Before I could open the truck door, a set of slender fingers wrapped around my right wrist and pulled my hand off the door.

Then took it and put it around her waist as she slid into my arms and gave me a kiss so sweet, soft and passionate, Hollywood couldn’t have pulled it off with their best directors on hand.

Then she took a step back and, while holding my left hand in her right, hauled back and brought my ass to Jesus.

I lay on the ground, dueling urges to laugh and cry. “What was that?,” I asked.

“Which one?”

“Both?”

“The second one was for being an ass.”

“And the first?”

“To remind you what you’ll lose if you lose that game. Think about both. I hope you can come back and see me.”

And here I was. We’re down by a run, there’s two outs, and Ace wanted to make me the last out.

“You...will...fail! And no one will remember you!,” he yelled from the mound, “Give up!”

I had stepped out of the box, exhausted. I glared at him then. He wasn’t winning this. I wasn’t losing everything over this jerkwad.

I stepped back in and told him to bring it.

I was in a fight, now I'm in a war

Everything is as it was before

Got back from the ring, my hand held high

Then I found out there's no pie in the sky

Why couldn't you tell me I had another fight?

That there was someone and you thought I wasn't right?

Instead I had to come home and have it in my face

It's hard to win when you don't know there's a race

Have to clear my head, what is there to do?

No good options in this heap I'm picking through

Sure I could beat him, give out some of my pain

But I have everything to lose and nothing there to gain

Lucky for me, he picks up and runs

Leaving just me and who he used for fun

Now I'm standing in the door like a haint

And I'm on the verge of another mistake

I just turn, nothing to be done

She laughs at me, saying "What are you, son?

"Just another boy playing at being a man

"Steady playing games, are you going to take a stand?"

I get in her face, let her see my eyes

Let her know her fate lies between those lines

Grab her by the wrist, bring her to her feet

Now I see all I need to see

That there is no future there in that bed

That there is no future if I see her dead

That there is no future in taking back my "pride"

And knowing the truth is only what's inside

I hand her a bag, then I walk away

She follows down the hall a bit, I don't turn her way

She tries a trial cry, all I do is go

She calls me a name, I let her do her show

Sure she can holler, sure she can scream

Give me all the guff, try to pull at my seams

All I know is tonight I took it all back

Here's where I truly won the title match

The story ends in Mexico. At least, I wish it did.

I'm hungover, sitting outside of a gas station trying to decrust my eyes while my basic Spanish fails me, unless I wanted to find a library selling apples for a woman to eat.

Someone has pity on me, an expatriate by choice, not by force, like I think I am. She's very pretty, but, more important, she seems nice and speaks English.

We walk (her) and stumble (me) to her beat up van. She helps me up into it.

That's when a high class English accent stops me by speaking up.

"Mr. Harrison," he says, "please tell me we don't have to knock you out again to get you to come with us? That would be a very unpleasant start to our relationship, not to mention messy."

The man begins by introducing himself as the van starts up and we pull away.

"Mr. Harrison, my name is Lionel, and that's all you need to know about me. What you really need to know about your situation can be gathered by looking to my left and right."

To his left and right were two guys who came right out of central casting for the pillars Samson knocks over. Both of them wore the same suit, dark, the same sunglasses, dark, and the same expression, dark.

"Now, at the moment, you are far too valuable to rough up, and how long you keep that value is entirely up to you."

"Fine, I gather you're threatening me," I cut in, as loud as my aching head would allow, "Would I be pushing my luck to ask how I got here and why I feel like I'm hammered when I know I only had soda?"

"We needed to separate you from your family without any scenes. A fast acting sedative did the job there. Don't worry, there's a cover story in place for them. Something about business needs."

"I'm a hardware store associate! What did you tell them, a hammer emergency came up?!"

I guess I flinched too much, because the pillars pulled guns on me. I slowly put my hands up and levered back down to the seat.

"No idea who your father is, do you?," Lionel said, pulling a handkerchief and mopping his forehead. I took note that his courage seemed to sit next to him.

"OK, let's see," I said, "You're probably not going to tell me it's the man that's at the same house I lived in all my life, and I'll probably be out of line to guess it's Zeus, so I'll go with....Ron Jeremy."

"You use humor to deflect stress, Mr. Harrison, don't you?"

"Much like you use your personality to deflect sexual partners. What is the point of all of this?"

"Well, if you're going to be sarcastic, I'll just be quiet and you can find out for yourself in about an hour."

I looked at the pillar to his left. "Is your boss always so sensitive?"

He just shrugged, and that was the last peep any of us made until we arrived.

They brought me into a room where a man lay in a hospital bed. Machines clearly did everything for him at this point. Other than a bit of graying at the temples, though, he could've been my twin. No need for a paternity test.

"OK, do I need to apologize, or will you just tell me what's going on?," I said to Lionel.

"That would be nice, but we don't have time for niceties. You have to be in a courtroom in two hours."

"I'm sorry, I have to be where?"

At gunpoint, I had to get myself showered, slightly dyed, and poured into a suit that, were I in any other situation, I would be very impressed by. No one said a word.

"At some point," I said, "I'm going to have to be told something about this, you know."

"All you need to do is show up," Lionel said. "Sit at the defense table, shut your mouth, and let the lawyers do their jobs."

"Can I at least know the charge?"

Lionel said, "We don't have the time to go through them."

"Wait, hold up!," I said, "You're sending me to face a trial for someone else?"

"Calm down, it's all circumstantial, Mr. Harrison."

The pillars had to pick me up to keep me from wringing his neck.

So, there I sat, in a car between the pillars, each of whom had an arm in their meaty grip. One of them, with their other hand, keep fanning me. I got a dirty look when I asked for a grape.

Lionel sat across from me now, visibly sweating now. His courage was keeping me in my place.

"Why aren't we doing the reasonable thing here, Lionel?," I said, "Show the authorities the mechanical man back at the house, he'd probably appreciate the execution order at this point, everything's over."

"That's right," Lionel said, "Everything's over. Including all of our safety. They think he's alive and well and the fear keeps them at bay."

I asked "Who's they?," but no one had a chance to answer when the car smashed into the side of our car.

We all went for a tumble as the car flipped a few times. When we stopped moving, my extraction, the pumping of bullets into the pillars and Lionel, and the torching of the car happened in very short order.

A couple of very strong men put me on my feet, and I faced another stunning woman with impeccable English. She wasn't as nice, though.

"If you're not hurt, you're coming with us," she said.

"I think I'm fine. And no, I don't think--"

A needle stabbed me in the neck and nothing was clear to me as I hit the dirt.

I came to with the woman in my face.

"He's awake, Father," she said, her voice coming to me like we were underwater.

A man swam into view, balding, middle aged.

"Can I talk to her instead?," I found myself saying.

He chuckled. "Everyone says that. Sorry I'm not more attractive. Just know we're not going to hurt you."

"There's some dead body charcoal and my drugged up mind that says otherwise."

"We had to go to extremes, Mr. Harrison," the woman said, "But we mean you no harm. We just want the syndicate to pay for their crimes. And if the jefe doesn't show, action will finally have to be taken."

"If I tell you the jiffy is dying anyway back at that house I was in," I said, "can you just let me go like sense would dictate?"

"He is?," the man said, "Well, let's just go--"

A door burst open in front of me.

Annnnnd everything was black again a few seconds later.

Back at home again, not missing explosions, car accidents, or even exotic women, but still wanting to know what the hell was going on.

All I was told was "special arrangement with the US government," and "national security" and "you should feel lucky."

"What if I decided to go to the press?," I asked the person who dropped me off at my house.

"Go ahead," they told me, "Who would believe you?"

So I started to, until I got a call at work a couple of days later.

"Mr. Harrison, this is a courtesy call," the voice that sounded like authority said, "Please don't ruin your service to our country's interests in Mexico and national security as a whole by telling your story. Things...could get bad."

They hung up. I got the point.

The next day, I was at the flooring desk, tedium gloriously setting in. Someone approached me with a carpet sample, set it in front of me with a pale, shaking hand.

I started to greet them until I saw my own face and began to run.

"No....wait," he said, with the strength of a newborn pup.

It was enough to stop me.

"You want to know all of the truth," he said, "Don't you?"

"The Central Library thanks you for your patronage. We close in five minutes! Please check out any materials--"

That was as far as the announcement got before she, and I, were nearly trampled by a rush to the desk. I cradled my copy of North and South like a running back, rolled to my feet, and went to check out.

It was crowded this night, like the library was a rock show. With three minutes to spare, I got into the librarian's line, who was stamping books for all her might, saying, "Hope to see you soon, we like this place!"

I wondered what she meant by that, even when I finally got my book stamped with 30 seconds to spare.

I said out loud, "Wow, happy hour is really important to you guys, huh?"

"I suggest you leave, sir," she said, "The library IS CLOSING!"

Red lights flashed, a countdown started, and I just got out before the building didn't just close.

Oh, no.

It jumped up, slammed itself shut, folded itself like an envelope, and disappeared.

I'd never felt so alive. Hope to see them soon, I really like that place!

This is an effort to keep from tripping over myself, because you know me, you know I’m all thumbs with words and two left feet when dancing.

But here’s what I know. There’s no one that loves me like you.

At my clumsiest, there you are to make me balanced. And I’m fine with me not dancing, because that means there’s more time to sit and bask in your glory.

And bask I do.

You ask me why, after all these years, all these times we’ve shared each other, why do I get nervous?

It’s always new to me, you’re always new to me, and I always want it to be as good as it can be, because you’re worth the effort.

You’re worth everything to me.

I think I’m getting clumsy again, even while sitting still, so before I stumble off towards whatever comes next, here’s the last thing I want you to know.

There’s nothing I want more than to make you happy, because you make me happy.

And I don’t need fancy words and great moves to know that.

You just left and I miss you already.

Sure, at the time, I wanted you to leave as much as you seemed you wanted to leave, and I was angry and hurt.

You let me have it, and I let you have it.

Now, neither of us have it.

It makes me seem desperate, sure, that I’ve already called you. I’m sure you’ve seen it come up on your screen, that picture of us on the beach in Santa Cruz. And you ignored it.

I can’t ignore that, it’s the day that has been playing in my head, even while I was yelling at you. How we walked down the beach, then back up, just for the hell of it. Because we had all day. Because we had all our lives.

We don’t anymore, though, do we?

You’ve probably swiped me into your voicemail again, so I’m just going to talk to it.

I want you to come back.

I hope you check this before you get too far away.

There is going to be so much emptiness in this house, in this life, without you in it.

I’ve heard you say it a million times, I’m being too dramatic, I’m strong, I can make it just fine without you.

Here’s something you’ve never heard me say.

The drama of my life is you, the color, the feel of your skin on mine, and it’s an exotic feel, and it’s home, all at once. If I’m too dramatic, so be it.

Another swipe, huh? OK, I’ve got more to say.

You’re strong, too, stronger than you think, but I think you know we’re stronger together, something we’ve both forgotten the last few hours.

Survival will happen for us both, but, like Mama told us, survivin’ ain’t livin’, honey.

The machine cuts me off again, but I know you haven’t, like I won’t be able to do to you.

Electronics aren’t working, I’ll try reaching out into the nether.

I close my eyes, I speak the words Come back to me, there’s nothing to say, only something we need to feel, only to myself.

The nether doesn’t need my echo to get the job done.

I’m realistic enough to know the nether’s not why I see your headlights in the drive.

But I’m hopeful enough not to discount it either.

You come in, you sweep me up in your life again, and I’m back on the beach like I wanted to be all along, rolling in color.

He’d wondered what that card meant in his mailbox.

“I hope you enjoyed being on the other end of the camera.”

This was a few days earlier.

Now, looking at the picture in the unmarked envelope of him in the middle of a little foreplay with his editor’s wife, he got more than a hint.

Because the note was very specific.

“This is the only one I could stomach looking at again without vomiting,” the typed letter said, “But I have copies of all of them. Right from start to, I’m sure, unsatisfying (for her) finish.

“We need to talk. Leave your mail flag up when you’re ready to. I’ll drop you another note. But do it soon. My patience is thin.”

But he was all set to just blow it off until Preston’s problems hit the headlines.

His lawyer’s face was on the front page of Variety. TOP LAWYER FOR PIX GETS NICKED, it said.

It went into as much detail as a somewhat family oriented rag could. How all the insider trading came to light, and the mistress over in Malibu, who was all too eager to cooperate with the feds before they began looking into her, of course.

But all of that could’ve made him just another cliche in a Jay Leno monologue if it wasn’t for the pictures these people said could go on his hard drive.

“‘We don’t really want you,’ they told me,” he said when they met after he got the picture in the mailbox, “‘Get Scotty to take the meeting, maybe some things go away.’”

And he started even to disregard this. People tried to take him down before. Paparazzi have such a bad rap, and why? He told himself that people like him are a public service. That “we help those pampered A-listers get famous.”

So he decided his lawyer was a big boy. He wasn’t letting anyone push him around.

Until the guys showed up to stand next to him at the next premiere. One of them even let him touch the gun under his coat.

“Time to go home,” he said, “and consider your future moves.”

He put the flag up after the mailman left the next day.

The next day’s note read, “Brown Derby. 3 p.m. Dinner’s on you.”

He was stunned after he showed up the next day. She was already waiting for him.

Her face was completely different from when she was famous. The hair was cropped short, fully gray, even though he knew she was still quite young.

But there was no doubt who it was.

And that she was very angry.

“You know what,” he said, throwing down his credit card, “Do what you want. You can’t hurt me.”

She reached out and snatched his arm.

“I heard you tried to pull that with Desiree, and I’m not falling for it. Not to mention, you don’t have leverage on me anymore. Don’t know if you heard, scumbag, but she jumped off a bridge a week ago. Sit down!”

He sat down. “I’m sure there’s something I can do. I know everyone, and I have eyes everywhere.”

“I’ve been back home in North Carolina since you ruined me. What can you possibly do to me now?”

“I hear there’s still people who, well, frown on your lifestyle,” he said. “Probably even more in good ol’ Dixie, am I right?”

“Love is love,” she said, a shark’s smile on her lips, “but revenge is a sheer joy. Moving down the ladder, aren’t we, by the way? Desiree caught you with a studio head’s wife. You can only pull your spineless boss’s lady now?”

“He needs me more than he needs her,” he said, “I get the best shots of the hottest stars. I think you’ve run out of cards to play. Go home.”

“You’re getting old, Scotty,” she said, “Time to retire.”

“Why should I? Out of sheer curiosity, Jasmine, I’ll sit back down. Thrill me.”

“I have eyes, too, Scotty. They’ve seen you, and what you do. All the people you’ve screwed for years, that you’ve helped to embarrass, all for a quick buck--”

“I’m a journalist, you crazy---”

The whole restaurant turned towards him, and he sank back down.

“You’re a worthless piece of opportunistic garbage, and we’ve had it. If this isn’t enough for you, Johnny Carmone’s family is prepared to convince you further.”

“That crackpot? Who would believe him over me?”

“His family and that should scare you. Especially since they are very good at what they do. You didn’t listen when they asked you to back off. Or when you managed to survive them cutting your brake lines. In fact, our little group is the only thing keeping them from offing you now.”

“It’s not my fault he went loony. Or that Desiree didn’t learn how to play the game. Or that you--”

“Like both girls and guys?,” she said, genuine smile now, “True. But it is your fault you exploited all of us. But we want you to stop now. And we want you to suffer.”

“Then have Johnny’s buddies break my knees or something.”

“You won’t learn,” she said, “and that would heal. If we make you give up this job, now, that would hurt forever.”

“How about money? I’ve got some saved up. Three ways, it’ll help all of you. I’m sure Johnny’s got bills at that hospital he’s in.”

“We thought about it. We don’t want money, then we’d be as bad as you. And we’d rather you not be dead, because you having to quit will be pain enough.

“But that’s where we are, Scotty. Retire...or be exposed and then die.”

She stood up, tossed $50 on the table.

“For your retirement meal. Or your last one. Totally your call.”

He changed his name.

He changed his look.

He even changed his field. Went to shooting pictures for art in New York. Freelancing for magazines as a photojournalist. Had a opening at a art gallery in SoHo for a new coffee table book.

All he knew was taking pictures.

Sure, the money sucked. Sure, it didn’t get the attention, the rush, that being a paparazzi did.

He tried to kid himself, but he was working out ways to get back.

The night of his gallery show, he stood there, looking proud and feeling miserable.

Lots of beautiful people “oohed” and “aahed” over his pictures. Some famous ones, too. His trigger finger was itchy.

One stunning redhead in sunglasses across the room caught his eye. So he was definitely intrigued when she motioned him over.

He was less intrigued when she lowered the glasses.

And he saw Jasmine yet again.

“We’re watching you, Desmond. Keep making lovely art. It’s so...safe.”

Hazel could tell he was looking for a moment. The dolphins crested the waters, and he began to reach for his pocket.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Let’s...let’s leave that be.”

Dex looked at her. “Wait...what?”

“Look, Dex, I think you’re great and all,” she said, measuring words like they were made of carats, “but I think we both know this won’t work out.”

He looked at her for a moment, then turned his back on her and watched the dolphins play. Hazel felt like she had to keep talking, try to explain herself.

“Now, Dex, I don’t want things to end for us here. Who knows, somewhere down the line, this could be what I’m looking for, but we both work on the road, long miles, precious little down time, we need to get more established. Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

She grabbed his arm and spun him to look at her. It was hard work, but he was worth it.

“You’ve been saying how much of a drag Leonis has been lately. Desiree will hire you on, we just lost our strongman. We can travel together. We can live together, Dex.”

Only then did he smile.

He stroked her lustrous beard and leaned in for a kiss.