Voz ushered Corry and me onto the bus with a smile. "Mi bus es su bus!"
"Owww!" moaned Corry, "Wazzat you just said? Somethin' in Spanglish, Voz?"
Voz laughed. "I forgot the word for 'bus'! Just get in, willya?"
"Okay, okay!" Corry crossed in front of me to climb up the steps. His left foot was raised to the height of the step, when Voz shot his arm in front of him, blocking his way.
"Ah-ah-ahhhhh! Cornelius, where are your manners?"
Corry looked stunned and confused. "Huh?"
Voz frowned. "Cornelius, let the lady go first!"
Corry laughed, embarrassed. "Ohhh! Duh! D'oh (his very best Homer Simpson voice)!"
I stood and pouted at him, sniffing slightly.
"I'm so sowwwwy, Miss Wren Lady! Please, you go first! I insist! Please, I beg of you to forgive my horrific manners! Please, flay me!" He backed up, and grandly bowed before me and swept his arm in front of himself like a musketeer.
I giggled. "Thanks, Voz, thanks Corry." I took two steps up the stairs, then turned back to Corry. "'Flay'? You want me to flay you? Do you know what 'flay' means?"
He shrugged,"Well, I've heard of it, and I think it's pretty bad, but, no not exactly..."
"It means 'skinned alive'" I said. I continued up the steps. Corry and Voz followed me.
I sat and before Corry could respond, Voz sat beside me and said, "I think it was Saint Germaine who was flayed, as a matter of fact..."
"Or was it Saint Sebastian? I get them confused! I only remember something about him from Art History class," I said.
Voz smiled, "You're exactly right, Wren! Saint Sebastian was the one who was flayed! Now, do you remember who the patron saint of animals is?"
Corry saw his woman leaving him behind in the conversation, and he wasn't about to let the Mad Portuguese show him up. He knew the answer to this one, high brow or not. Very loudly he said, "YEAH, THAT'S SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISSI!"
Voz's smiled faded. He turned to Corry and got up. "Right," he said softly. Then he excused himself and retreated to the rear of the bus where his bedroom was.
Corry and I looked at each other and said in unison, "What did you say to him?"
We answered each other, "Who, me?" Then we both cracked up.
He sat beside me, in the seat Voz had vacated, and hugged me. He kissed me and held me close. I smiled as I snuggled into his arms. I was on bliss overload, starting to doze off, even, when I heard someone climb up the steps of the bus and felt him tense. He straightened up, and withdrew his arms. I looked question marks at him.
He bent over me as a man passed by us and whispered, excited, "That's him! That's Brill Nelsen! Oh my gaaawwwd!" He turned back to watch Brill select his seat.
I peered at Brill too. He had curly dark hair and seemed to be in his middle forties. Having heard about his bad blood with Voz, when Jury was in its heyday, I have to admit that I was prepared to dislike the man. From what I had heard, he was a major chauvinist pig, i.e., a real pro at rolling in mud, eating garbage, and hunting for truffles. However, pigs were more intelligent than he. I hold up as an example Arnold Ziffel of "Green Acres" fame. Guys like Brill gave Arnold a bad name. But, I told myself, it's been years since he and Voz were in Jury. People grow up, sometimes. I'd try to give the guy a break. Brill settled onto a couch near the rear of the bus. Corry half sat, eager to introduce himself, yet hesitant to meet his hero. Corry was not the only one of my musician family that held Brill in awe. Venn was a huge fan of Brill's as well. Guys hold droolfests, too; they just don't giggle quite as much, or talk about their idol's personal appearance the way we women do. Now *there's* a scenario:
Brill has just come offstage from a show, and strolls past Venn and Corry.
Corry: "Oh, my Gawwwd! There he is!"
Venn squeals girlishly. "Oh, my, ah do believe ah have the vapors!"
Corry: "He is such a GAWD!"
Venn: "Look at those *tight* leather pants sealed with gaffer's tape across that cute, cute butt, and---"
"Wren?"
Corry snapped me out of the reverie. Was I giggling aloud? Oops! I turned to Corry. "Hmmm? Hey, are you going to go introduce yourself to him?"
"Yeah", he said. "I was just gonna tell you I'm heading back there. I think we'll be leaving soon. I may be back there a while."
"Okay. Have fun!" I smiled.
We kissed, and he got up and hesitantly approached Brill. "Hi, Brill!"
Brill looked up at him, "Hi."
"My name's Cornelius, and I---, I really admire your playing---"
"Sit down", he said to Corry. "Yeah, Cornelius, I thought that was you! Hey, I admire *your* playing!"
Corry looked stunned. "You do?" He took a seat next to Brill.
I turned back around and looked out the window. Good: Brill was nice to him, saying he admired his playing, too. Good, good, good! Maybe we have indeed attained some miniscule level of maturity within these past twenty years, eh, Brill Nelsen?
A red haired man leapt onto the bus, and Alan, our driver, slammed the door shut behind him. He started to pull out, but then stopped the bus and opened the door again. Shawn appeared at the threshold. "Hey! You guys ready to go? Do I see WREN?? Ah, yes, I do see Wren!" He winked at me. "Okay, we've got Don, Brill, Cornelius, Wren, a red haired man I don't know, and, where's Voz?"
Voz poked his head out his bedroom door. "Right here, Shawn!" He smiled and waved. Apparently he had gotten over whatever it was that Corry and/or I had said and/or done.
"Cool!" said Shawn. "See y'awl in Vegas!" He turned and left the bus. Alan shut the door, and we set out.
After a couple of minutes I got up and walked up to the driver. "Hi Alan. I'm Wren. How's it going?"
He smiled, but kept his eyes on the road. "Hi Wren. Are you the lost one? Heard about you from Voz."
"You did?"
"Yep, he told me you and Cornelius were riding with us. He likes to keep me informed. This bus is his baby. He's real territorial about it. Doesn't like sharing his space a whole lot. But I guess you're okay in his book!"
I smiled. "Yeah, he offered us a ride. He's a sweet man. Hey, how long a trip is this?"
"S'about four hours, depending on the traffic."
"Is there a movie? You're not gonna get up and push some stupid food cart down the aisle just when I gotta go to the bathroom, are you?" I joked.
Alan burst out laughing, "Nooooo! This is not 'D'Oro Airlines'!" He chuckled, and I returned to my seat.
I decided to rest up before the show, so I headed to one of the bunks in the back. It shared the wall with Voz's bedroom. He and the red haired man were both in there, now, and I could hear snatches of conversation as I curled up in the bunk. Voz sounded upset:
"So, is she in the new place now? Did you find any new accounts, Dan?"
"We've got her in a new place in Idaho, and we closed out about six bank accounts last week. The doctors have been warned about how persuasive she can be."
"Okay, as far as that goes, but somehow I'm not reassured!"
"Don't know what to tell you Voz! Where do you want her to be?" This voice sounded exasperated.
A sigh from Voz, then "I don't know!! I just want her out of harm's way until they can find a cure! Why the hell is it so much to ask? Why can't they find a cure?"
"Find a cure?" Dan snorted derisively, "Hell, they can't even diagnose her!"
"Lycanthropy, Dan! LYCANTHROPY! It's that simple!"
"Voz, you'll never find a doctor who'll even acknowledge the existence of lycanthropy, let alone find one that has developed a cure! It's a myth! They call her schizophrenic; mentally ill--"
"Mentally ill?? There's not a damn thing wrong with her mind; you know that. You've talked to her! Is she incoherent?"
"Calm down, Voz! Truth is, you're right: it's Lycanthropy. That's all it can be. But a modern day doctor---"
"A modern day US doctor! Look, we've exhausted our search in the States. Time to go abroad. What about Switzerland? Eastern Europe? Can you check that out?"
"Yes, sure, Voz. You can count on me to do what I can."
I lay in my bunk, processing what I had overheard. It was probably not a good thing that I had overheard this conversation. Voz sounded *so* upset! I mean, not his usual *I'm-just-a-very-sensitive-guy* type of upset, but a real, deep *angry* type of upset. So, the questions: Who's the woman? Closing bank accounts? Mental illness? Some sort of Cancer called Anthropathy? And, who is this Dan guy? Seems to work for Voz, in a legal capacity, or as an assistant? Must be Voz's personal assistant. Yeah. I had forgotten that famous people have those. I wished I could talk to somebody about all I had overheard...could I talk to Donny? I hoped so. I turned over and dozed off.
I was curled up on my right side, facing the window. I was awake, but I lay motionless as I heard someone pull open the bunk's blackout curtains. It was a double-sized bunk, and I was way over on the far side, so a second person could easily scootch in beside me. I felt a weight on the mattress. Oh, that sneak! We hadn't yet reached any sort of...horizontal...phase in our relationship.
More weight on the bed. An arm draped gently over me, tightening softly, slowly. As he wrapped me in his arms, I felt his warm breath on my neck. He swept my hair off my neck. Warmer breath...still warmer, as he moved closer. His nose and lips brushed my chin...throat...neck. His hand pulled on the hem of my shirt. Too much!
"No!" my voice quavered.
Silently, he pulled away and rolled out of the bunk. "We're almost in Vegas," he said.
"Okay." I sat up and went into the lavatory to tidy up. I reflected on the rejection as I brushed my hair. One corny line kept running through my head: "Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?" I had done the right thing. Men love the chase...don't they? I put the brush away and left the lavatory.