Jay woke from an untroubled sleep. They had not slept until the sun had come up on the morning after Christmas. He had met her brother and become fast friends with the handicapped man. His name was Edwin, and he was 30-years-old; Duty’s older brother. Their father had been killed clearing a minefield in Iraq after the Second Gulf War. Their mother had passed away last year from lung cancer. Their father’s friend, an elderly man named George, managed their trust fund, and had been pretty suspicious of Jay when they were introduced at Christmas dinner.
They had in common the fact that they were orphans, and Duty seemed to take this as some kind of sign that picking up Jay on the side of the road had been an act of Fate. Edwin insisted that Jay read him his favorite bedtime story, about the monkey and the man in the yellow hat. This would normally have been an embarrassing moment for him, since he read very slowly and, when doing it out loud, had to sound out the words. Edwin enjoyed his reading though, and Duty really seemed to appreciate the effort. Her given name was Suzy. But Edwin pronounced it Duty, so that version of her name had stuck.
You’ve never felt like this before.
Don’t get nervous. It will turn sour and she’ll kick you to the curb by New Year’s Day.
What if she doesn’t just use you like the others? What if it’s for real?
You can’t be that lucky idiot.
After putting Edwin to bed they had drank and made love all night and talked the whole time. She wanted to know everything about him, and, even omitting the huge chunks about being a time-hunter and stone-age warlord, he had a lot to tell. She wouldn’t turn the lights off and wanted the story behind every scar. She spent hours viewing the extensive artwork on his back and questioning him about the contents. She was fairly disgusted over the gun and pen fight in the Juarez meth-lab. But was very intrigued about Addy, the born-again-Christian tattoo artist who had patched him up and inked his unfortunate experiences into his back as a kind of psycho-therapy; a way of putting a bad past behind him.
Why are all of the chicks so interested in Addy?
Maybe because she inked herself crying over you’re leaving into your back.
That was kind of diabolical of her.
It was 10:00 a.m. and Edwin was already in the room with them playing with his model truck. The guy was good at building models. In essence he built everything he played with. Amber was downstairs cooking creamed chipped beef and biscuits for breakfast. He could not stop thinking about how this looked to Mister George: some thirty-something unemployed drifter shacked up with two teenage girls and a retarded dude—the ultimate parasite.
Dummy you are not living off of any woman. Get out there and clean out the stalls right now, and tomorrow you take your cash to George to put in their trust fund. You can stop drifting yesterday.
What about the time-travelling?
What about that? Just cut off your left arm above the wrist.
What!?!
Duty woke up with a smile on her face, hugged Edwin, and then crawled on top of him in her flannel pajamas. “Don’t wander away from me Jay Bracken. I want you to stay. George can get you a job. Please say that you’ll stay.”
Wow, that was quick.
“Oh. I’m stayin’ girl. Don’ you worry. I jus’ gotta fine a way ta pay ma keep. I ain’ livin’ off ya.”
“I know, I could tell.”
Edwin then spoke up as he drove his blue Model T across the side of Jay’s chest that was not draped with Duty’s hair, “Gay tay?”
“Sure I’m stayin’ Edwin, en you en me both gonna be workin’ on our e-nun-ci-a-tion—‘specially da diffrence ‘tween J and G.”
“A-ight Gay.”
I love listening to her laugh like this.
