Lady of the Rings
by Brandy Dewinter and Ellen Hayes
(All rights reserved)
Chapter 7 - A Cold Shower
Build: 5
Yeah, right. I had horrible nightmares, so horrible I couldn't
remember most of them, except they involved me being chased for what
seemed like hours. I finally got trapped, and ejected out of sleep
entirely.
My watch said it was four thirty in the morning.
I thought about going back to sleep, briefly, but the idea was so
repellent that I got up almost before I realized what I was doing. A
quick trip to the bathroom, back to slip on my jeans and that bra, and I
quietly opened the door and stepped outside. I'd developed a cure for
nightmares a long time ago. About the time I started studying martial
arts, in fact.
I found an empty area with a dirt surface that would be good enough.
My feet weren't that tough, but I couldn't really practice wearing hiking
boots. A pair of sneakers was going to have to be a priority purchase
item, when I got paid.
I started to stretch . . . and I was stunned all over again. This
body may not have had much in the way of muscle, but jeeeezus did it
bend! I bent down to touch my toes and I could lay my palms flat on the
ground without really trying. I spent ten minutes trying to figure out
where I wasn't flexible and couldn't find a place. I managed a full
split, even, and when I sat down on the ground I could put my face under
the level of my knees. Even my fingers would bend back about ninety
degrees. When I gave up, I felt warm and loose and figured that this
was good enough.
It took a long time to slide into the rhythm. I think that was due
to the entirely different mass distribution I was stuck with, courtesy
of that old sadistic bastard. Finally, though, I "caught the music",
and things started to move right, or at least with some sort of grace
and precision.
I hadn't really dared to hope that fourteen years of reflexes would
adapt to a new body this quickly, but they apparently did. Or at least
they seemed to. I was weak and a little slow, but I thought for the
first time that I could work with what I had.
I finished up a set and realized that I was looking for a staff or
a sword to continue practice with. Not surprisingly, there weren't any
such things lying around. I also realized that the sun was coming up
and maybe I ought to zip back inside before people started waking up.
Giggles, heard through the thin metal walls as I approached, told
me I was too late. I wiped my feet off as best I could on a mat - they
were as filthy as you would expect after doing katas for an hour while
standing in dirt - then opened the door.
The shrieks and wails scared the crap out of me, and I slammed the
door shut. I was about to start cursing myself for going into the wrong
trailer, but instead I started cursing Andreas again, because, in one
sense this was the RIGHT trailer. Which was all wrong.
So as I stood there, hand on the doorknob, saying foul and nasty
things. Someone pushed the door open. "Wha- oh. It's you," said some
girl who I'd seen last night. "Did you ever hear of knocking?"
"Sorry," I said, trying not to sound like I felt.
The giggles had stopped of course, and the conversation was frozen
as every pair of eyes took in my sweaty, now-almost-see-through t-shirt
and my country-bumpkin dirty bare feet. Some sort of magnetic attraction
forced my own gaze to follow theirs and my own appraisal to admit that I
looked pretty gross for a girl.
Well, good. I didn't want to look ladylike. My embarrassment gave
way to anger at the snooty bitches that were looking down on me, then
segued to a real hate for that bastard Andreas who had done this to me.
I don't know what my face looked like when my blood really got boiling,
but none of those oh-so-dainty girls said another word, which was just
fine, too.
The silence wasn't quite too thick to move through so I walked over
to my bunk and started stripping out of my sweaty shirt. The bra wasn't
much better but I didn't really have an option, there. I figured I'd
rinse it out and hang it to dry while I washed. At least I had a fresh
pair of underwear, um, panties. Bright, slick, pink panties. Before God,
I was gonna kill that wizard.
I needed a good deodorant soap a lot more than a perfumed sliver
that looked like it had been ripped off from a cheap motel, but that's
what I had. The shampoo had some sort of flowery smell, too. Oh, joy.
At least by the time I was ready to head for the shower, carrying my lone
(small) towel, the line for the stalls had disappeared.
Somehow, my walk to the back of the trailer started the girls gig-
gling again and I knew it was at my expense. Since all the stalls were
open, I decided to run some water into the wash tub and let my clothes
soak while I took my own shower.
I set the tub under a nozzle and started the hot water while I un-
dressed. My jeans weren't all that bad, yet, and I knew it would take
forever for them to dry so I just hung them up out of the splash zone.
There was a curtain blocking the shower area so I closed it before I took
the rest of my clothes off. I didn't feel right about undressing in
front of girls by light-years so I was glad for the privacy, even if it
did cause the whispered giggles to get louder.
The water running in the tub wasn't getting any warmer. I figured
the plumbing in this creaky old trailer had gotten screwed up so I closed
the first faucet and opened the second one, then waited for the hot water
to appear. And waited. With sick certainty, I turned on a faucet in
another stall but I knew now why they were laughing. No more hot water.
Well, if that were the worst problem I had to face today, I was a
lot better off than yesterday. I didn't particularly like cold water on
my warmed up muscles, but I could handle it. Where ever the tanker truck
that Sarah had talked about was kept, the water had picked up enough sun
the day before that it wasn't really cold, anyway, just sort of blah. If
those catty little debutantes in there thought a cold shower would upset
me, well, they could kiss my too-wide ass.
When I finished washing off the sweat and the dirt, I started in on
all that hair. I swear, the more I washed it the longer and heavier it
got. By the time I was done, it weighed about 900 pounds and hung below
my knees, but it was clean. When I finally finished, the thought of put-
ting on a wet bra was even worse than putting on a dry one so I just
slipped my underwear on, then my jeans. I carried the bra and my socks
back when I came out of the shower area. Thankfully, all the other girls
were gone so it didn't matter that I had forgotten to wrap my towel
around my tits. It didn't matter until they started jiggling, a sight I
definitely didn't appreciate when I saw it in the mirror.
My long hair hung down stringy and ugly. My face was plain at best,
too-thin nose, and too-pointy chin still very much in evidence. God rot
that wizard! For damn sure I didn't care if I looked pretty, but I
didn't need to look hideous either. Just average would do, but no such
luck.
There were three or four hair dryers laying about so I grabbed one
and started in on my hair. I wish my towel had been as absorbent. That
long mess had soaked up about 10 gallons of water and it took even longer
to get it all out than it had to put it all in.
Brushing was still pretty nice, though. It was so languid to run
the brush from the root all the way out to the ends, over and over. When
I got my right body back, and got a for-real girlfriend, I would defi-
nitely brush her hair for her, whenever I could talk her into it.
Eventually it was done, or at least done enough. I pulled it back
into the rubber band thingy and put my still damp bra on. The t-shirt
was still too wet so I left it and put on my oxford shirt. I really
hated putting damp socks on inside my hiking boots, but the liners were
pretty good and I didn't have a lot of choice.
It was now after 8:00, so I headed over for some breakfast. The
girls had claimed a couple of tables in one corner. I got some cereal
and headed for a different area. Kimberly came in, saw the girls all
together with me elsewhere, and came to sit with me.
Her cheeks were flushed like she had just had the most fun a girl
could enjoy with her clothes on. She had a pair of jeans at least two
sizes too interesting, I mean small, though they were so long they were
scrunched up around her boots, and a horsy smell that made it clear what
she'd been doing.
"Bree, why didn't you sit with the other girls?"
I didn't even bother to answer.
"Oh, they're not so bad, once you get to know them," she promised,
answering her own question. That earned her an incredulous grunt.
"Goodness, girl, you're not a morning person, are you?" she laughed.
"Not if I can help it," I grumped. The coke fountain was up so I
was injecting my caffeine fix. Maybe it was taking hold. At least I
answered this question.
Kim just laughed. She got some cereal and fruit, and coffee, and
came back to sit with me.
"So, where were you this morning?" the interrogation continued.
"I woke up early, so I went out to exercise."
Kim gave a mock gasp, and exclaimed, "A complete sentence! I knew
you could do it. Have some more coke."
It made me laugh. Well, I snorted. She was just too happy to
allow grumpiness in her world. Now that she had my attention, she star-
ted talking about her own morning exercise with a particularly stupid
horse. Her pride in the big beast was evident, but she made it clear it
was not based on respect for his intelligence. When she asked if I could
ride, I was glad to be able to claim the skill, based on my preparations
for this stupid quest.
Just about the time I was finishing, Jim Chandler came in.
"Britt, there you are. Somebody said they'd seen you out early and
I've been looking all over for you."
"I exercised before I showered this morning," I explained again.
"Bet you didn't have any hot water," he snickered.
"Don't remind me," I replied, but Kim's influence still held and
I managed a smile when I said it.
"Well, when you get finished with breakfast, come by the 'round. I
need your help to mount some of the horses."
"I'm done now. I'll come with you," I offered, then turned to Kim.
"You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all, I'm about done, too. Now it's time for my shower, and
by now there might be some hot water back."
"Yeah, yeah, rub it in...." She giggled as she waved.
We headed our separate ways and I got a chance to be re-introduced
to the pleasures of greasy maintenance and slivered wood. We worked
pretty steadily until noon, then just as Jim was suggesting we break for
lunch, Sarah showed up.
"Bree, is that all you have to wear?" she demanded.
I was getting really, really tired of making up excuses for Andreas
being an asshole and leaving me with nothing, so I just nodded.
"Come by the trailer. You can wash up for lunch and I'll get you
something else to wear."
"Not another skimpy costume," I just refused.
"Of course not, but I have some jeans and things that will fit."
"Oh, thanks, sorry."
She tugged on my arm, a quick smile at Jim her only sign that she
knew he was there, and that he had charge over me. He didn't argue,
though, just waved and headed for the washup sink outside the cafeteria
tent.
Sarah pointed me at the sink in her trailer and went to some boxes
piled under and around the racks.
"Okay, these should fit, a bit loose, but they're about the only
ones that are long enough for your legs. Here's a polo shirt, too. Sorry
it's so dark, that'll be hot, but at least it won't get dirty as fast as
a white one. Why don't you change now and I'll help you wash those
clothes."
There was a surprisingly large washing machine hidden under one
one of the piles of clothes. I should have known. I had seen the
clothes strung out on lines before I had even seen her trailer.
While I was making the switch she chattered on, "You should hand
wash your delicate things in the tub in your trailer, but of course you
know that since you did it for your bra. Though that one looks like it
would hold up to machine washing. Don't you ever wear pretty things?"
Before I had a chance to answer, she rattled on, "Never mind, just
get finished and get yourself something to eat. Tom always works the
dogs after lunch. I'll dry these for you and you can pick them up
later."
Her bustling energy made me tired even though I was wide awake.
Of course, getting up at 4:30 after a hell of a day wasn't the best way
to rest up, but she seemed to be wired directly to the electrical outlet.
I did as I was told as much for the chance to escape from her intensity
as because of any hunger.
This time, Kim waved me over where she sat at a place she had ob-
viously kept clear except for a girl I remembered as Julie who sat with
her. She welcomed me with a smile of her own. Amber was holding court at
another table. Their whispered giggles were so obviously directed at me
that I almost walked over and called them on it, but Kim's face asked me
to chill as clearly as if she had used words.
With a brief nod, I agreed and went to get myself a sandwich and
yet another coke, diet this time. I passed on the chips and things,
selecting fruit to go with my sandwich instead. After seeing what a
couple of those other girls looked like out of their clothes, I promised
myself my wide-load hips weren't getting any bigger.
Kim and Julie were just finishing up, really, so they sat politely
while I ate but I knew they had other places to go. I ate quietly so
I could eat quickly and mostly just listened. The whisper campaign be-
hind me was just loud enough to hear references to 'dirty feet' and 'cold
shower'. God, I'd kill myself if that's all I had to talk about.
Kim and Julie weren't much better. Apparently Julie had seen a boy
at the show yesterday who was just too hunky for words. Kim was duly
appreciative, enjoying the second hand image of tight jeans and even
tighter t-shirt. It left me bored to tears.
Partway through Julie's recital of the virtues of her dreamboat,
Kim's eyes caught mine and noticed the lack of interest. Something, I
don't know what, flickered in her own eyes when she realized what was
going through mine. Or maybe, what was not going through mine at the
mention of a good-looking guy. Something strange seemed to linger in her
own eyes for a moment, something deep. Then she quickly turned back to
Julie. Now what was that all about?
People started to flow out of the tent fairly quickly as lunch came
to an end. I joined the outgoing crowd and went to find Tom. Time went
fairly quickly, the dogs were fun to work with, and then it was time to
get dressed for the performance. Oh, joy of all joys, wearing a prac-
tically indecent costume in front of hundreds of ogling guys.
The Colonel was in his own showy costume, though his fit and had
pants, when I joined Tom and 'the other girls' backstage. The guy, Vic,
that Sarah had introduced me to was apparently some sort of stage mana-
ger. He'd keep the dogs who were not on stage at any one time corralled
while Tom and I were onstage with the others.
Apparently the Colonel had changed the sequence, because the act in
front of ours this time was Kim and her horses rather than the clowns who
had preceded Tom yesterday. She was something. It looked like she was
having the time of her life, while dancing like a hovering hummingbird on
the backs of easily-cantering, snow-white beauties. I kept looking for
the wires to the overhead, like they use for faking flying scenes, as she
levitated over obstacles that made those the dogs would soon encounter
seem tiny. All too soon her act was over and we were on ourselves.
Tom headed out first, to be introduced by the Colonel, and then
Freya was released to start her own easy canter around the ring. Fluffie,
the little poodle danced on Freya's back in a parody of Kim's act so
obvious it made it all the more intriguing. After once around the
circle, it was my turn to go on stage and move a couple of props.
I almost froze at the entrance. The catcalls and whistles when the
slobs in the audience saw my outfit were bad enough, but the guys near
the entrance tunnel were making offers a whole lot more explicit. I
couldn't decide whether to run or jump into the bleachers and deck some-
body so I just stood there. Vic hissed at me and got me going again, but
Freya had to make an extra circle and it hurt the energy level of the
act. I sent an apologetic look toward Tom but he was already busy sig-
naling for the first of the Cairns to join the show.
In just a moment, though, the energy level of the act was back - at
my expense. That little Cairn that liked to pat my fanny got one in even
before she jumped on Freya for her first circle. I was so busy moving
props around that I couldn't even give her the scolding, nor the cud-
dling, she deserved, not that I could have caught her.
That was the essence of Tom's act with the dogs, pandemonium on
four legs. There were dogs going everywhere, all the time. The two
dachshunds slithered through the obstacles like an eight-legged whatever
and the Cairns were just bouncing. Tom pretended to try to get every-
thing in order, throwing balls to get the Cairns' attention, but they
just caught the balls and brought them to him then returned to their fun
while he called the next dog over. Finally he threw his hands up in
pretended defeat.
That was the cue for the orchestra and they blew a fanfare of trum-
pets to announce the arrival of Star, the Sheltie. She wore a red cape
with a yellow star and launched herself into the ring from a high plat-
form that made it look like she was flying. Her landing pad was the
highest of the prop stands, and from that position she started barking at
the tumbling avalanche of fur.
Pretty soon she had the Cairns all herded together, as though they
were the sheep that had generated the need for her breed. She urged them
off while Freya and Fluffie got back to their supposedly-interrupted
routine. In another moment Star was back, with the Schnauzers marching
in close formation to a martial beat from the orchestra. She had them
working like a fine drill team, a wonderfully-sharp contrast to Tom's
apparent ineptitude. Tom and I withdrew from the ring to let Star have
the spotlight to herself, and "her" charges.
With a pointed bark she had the Schnauzers leave the ring, then
Star hopped up behind Fluffie to show she could do that part of the rou-
tine, too. In another moment Star barked again and Freya headed off-
stage.
By this time the audience was hysterical, laughing too hard to even
applaud. They did applaud, though, when we came back for the equivalent
of a curtain call. Tom grabbed my hand, something he hadn't done in
practice, and drug me out to stand beside him while all the dogs in the
act came pouring out around us. We did a brief reprise of the pande-
monium scene, complete with yet another fanny pat for me from the little
terrier. After only a minute or so Tom called out his own orders, and
everyone left but Star and him, who took a separate bow. This time the
applause was all he could ask for and he bounced off with almost Kim's
energy level.
"That was terrific, Bree, you were great!" he claimed.
"It wasn't me. You've got a good act."
"Well, you certainly did your part. I don't think there were many
men, young or old, who were uninterested in our show."
I just blushed. I didn't want him to be right, but I couldn't deny
what he said. We walked together, the dogs gamboling about, toward his
RV. I almost opened the door for them, but he stopped me.
"Not until they're cleaned up," Tom ordered.
Well, we had followed a horse act. Tom let me change while he
started on Freya. I got back in plenty of time, though, to work on Star,
and Fluffie, and on, and on, and on. Welcome to the circus!
(
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