MAN WITH A MISSION

WEEK 19 - TRIO: A necklace, iron rod, Mission (I know... last week's but still using it)

Taking Maril's suggestion, I'll try to make this three paragraphs as it is done on the HL list. Granted, they may be long paragraphs...

~~~~~

JO: GrishamMuse, get out of here. I need to concentrate on a certain doctor...
GRISHAM: Bah, you're linking him with the wrong woman. Nobody wants to see that.
JO: I said, get out! I'm tired of you.
GRISHAM: Get me back with Vera first. Please?
JO: Well...... will you take of your shirt?
GRISHAM: If you do a favor for me, I can bless you with the vision of my perfect pecs.
JO: Um, Marcoo, you do have nice pecs, but there's a certain doc--.
GRISHAM: Back to me, me with Vera, please?
JO: So pushy. I'll see what I can do.

~~~~~

After being verbally slapped around the last few days, and Señor Valdez was ready to break out his shot gun--.

GRISHAM: Wait a minute! I was a gentleman with the lovely Señorita.
JO: In your dreams, Marcoo.
GRISHAM: Don't call me that. It reminds me of Vera.
JO: Oh, you're naming her now.
GRISHAM: I need her back. I'm lost without her.
JO: Poor lad, quit bothering me so I can see what I can come up with.
GRISHAM: Okay, just type. I'll be over here in the corner.
JO: You know, there is an iron rod in the items. That doesn't scare you?
GRISHAM: Nah. You'll work your way around it.
JO: I thought you were going to be quiet.
GRISHAM: Just type.
JO: I'll try it again... just whisper, don't talk out loud. It's going to take a lot of work and I have little space in which to do it... three paragraphs... let's see...

~~~~~

After being verbally slapped around the last few days, and Señor Valdez was ready to break out his shot gun to kill some pesky birds that had nested on the eave above the door of his house, Grisham decided to not call on his daughter and turned his grand white stallion back toward town. On the way back to his apartment, his thoughts wandered to a certain hacienda that held the Doña who shall remain nameless. (Vera). <Shhhhhhhh GrishamMuse!> Even though he physically couldn't feel it, he knew it was there. In his pocket was Vera's gold chain that he had found under his bed while on a cleaning spree to clear out all traces of her after beating up prisoners just didn't do it for him anymore and had always kept the reminder of Vera with him. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, wrapped it around his fingers, remembering how it looked on her neck. He had to see her again, if only to once again peer into her window.

When he reached the Hidalgo hacienda at sunset, Grisham was at once stunned, then panic stricken. He jumped off his horse and ran to her. Vera was trapped under a large, heavy object in the front yard. Grisham knelt beside her and cradled her head. "Are you all right?" After she slapped him and said that she was trapped under a heavy object, of course she's not all right!, and to set her free, he jumped again, this time into action. He found, resting against the stable wall, an iron bar. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his precious Vera and used it as a lever to set her free.

Vera jumped up and hugged her ex-man, <Hey!> thanking him profusely for saving not only her life, <Okay...> but that of her unborn child. Grisham was pleased to hold her again and didn't want to let her go, but she didn't have to mention the kid... so quickly... "Are you sure that kid is Gaspar's, Vera?" he asked. Her face told him the answer, it was. But to his jubilant amazement, she hugged him again and said, "I have missed you so, Marcoo."

GRISHAM: Go on...
JO: That's the three paragraphs, big guy. Sorry.
GRISHAM: You were pretty sloppy getting there. What was she trapped under?
JO: Take your pick, use your imagination. A horse, a bureau, her husband...
GRISHAM: If she were under her husband, she would be trapped.
JO: That is NOT nice. You are not a nice man, Marcus. I don't know why I listen with you.
GRISHAM: I meant trapped in a loveless marriage.
JO: She loves him Marcus, what can we do?
GRISHAM: She loves me too. Women love two men at one time all the time.
JO: But we don't tell the men that.
GRISHAM: Why?
JO: It might get the woman into trouble.
GRISHAM: Jo! You mean...
JO: Yes.
GRISHAM: Women don't tell you the truth?
JO: Not always. I hate to break it to you, but women have been known to fake it too.
GRISHAM: NO! Well, with Helm I could understand, but never with me.
JO: No, NEVER with Helm.
GRISHAM: What the hell do you see in that... Brit?
JO: You got a minute? Let me count the ways... We can start with that accent, that voice that sends shivers up your back when he hits the right pitch, which is often. Then there's his eyes at alternate colors and you can see whatever you want in them, his thick dark hair that curls up when long and oh yes, when wet. Then there's that fabulous graceful neck, let's not forget his collarbones, his skin, his prominent shoulders, his long muscular arms, his lean gentle fingers, his--.
GRISHAM: Will you be quiet?
JO: You asked. I haven't even gotten to his washboard stomach.
GRISHAM: When did you ever see that?
JO: Right after he unbuttoned his shirt to beat the crap out of you.
GRISHAM: He ... did... not! beat anything out of me!
JO: No, he didn't get a chance to finish because Montoya hit him over the head.
GRISHAM: Good thing the boss did, or your boy could have really used a doctor.
JO: Hm. There are quite a few willing nurses around.
GRISHAM: That's just sick.
JO: It wouldn't be sick to you if there were a Grisham's Garrison or something.
GRISHAM: You've got a point. Can we get back to me now?
JO: I'm not sure.
GRISHAM: Waddamean?
JO: I don't like your attitude.
GRISHAM: Come on.... please? Think of poor Vera...
JO: 'Poor' Vera could buy and sell you.
GRISHAM: With her husband's reales.
JO: And your point is?
GRISHAM: I forget. Oh, yeah, now I remember. She has to come back to me. Okay, I see now that she loves Gaspar, and she may have lied a little to me, but never, ever faked it!, and is rich, that she can have a much better life with Gaspar and her kid. I know all of that! But, come on... I love her.
JO: Well, you have a point... in your own way...
GRISHAM: Will you do it? Will you have my Vera come back to me?
JO: She isn't your Vera. You have to keep that in mind.
GRISHAM: I will.
JO: But, I've got you wooing Señorita Valdez, you're going to dinner and meeting her parents and Montoya is going to show up. Didn't you read this week's first challenge response?
GRISHAM: Which doesn't bode well for me. Come on, Jo. Get real. You haven't even thought up a first name for that Valdez kid. Me, have dinner with the parents on a date with a dame? You're turning me into a wimp.
JO: I'm trying to give you depth. With what I have to work with, that's a tall order! I'm trying to make you a gentleman.
GRISHAM: But I'm not. And I'm the first to admit it.
JO: So, what should I do now?
GRISHAM: I don't show up at the Valdez hacienda.
JO: Why?
GRISHAM: Because Vera comes to me to tell me that she's missed me and begs me to take her back.
JO: <huge disgusted sigh>
GRISHAM: <placating writer> Okay, okay. You work it out. But I want to be in bed with Vera within days. <pause> Don't look at me like that.
JO: What on earth do you and Vera have to talk about?
GRISHAM: Nothing now. Thanks to you, she won't even look at me. And who needs talking?
JO: She's pregnant.
GRISHAM: Also thanks to you.
JO: I had help in that endeavor.
GRISHAM: Huh?
JO: GrishamMuse, meet LaminaeMuse.
GRISHAM: <screams in terror as he disappears>
JO: Okay, Lam, where did you put him?
LAMINAE: Somewhere where he will not bother anyone again, especially Vera.
JO: Lighten up, Lam. This is the 21^st Century.
LAMINAE: No. See? You forget which time period you are writing for, Jo. This is the 19^th Century.
JO: But it's a show.
LAMINAE: You either write it correctly, or do not write it at all. We can forgive little lapses of concentration because we know that you get blocked at times <patting Jo's shoulder> but you really should think things through a little more.
JO: People have been committing adultery for centuries, Lam.
LAMINAE: You are telling me? I have been there, but not have done that.
JO: Yeah, right! You had three kids while married to Diabol.
LAMINAE: Can you blame me? Gaspar is no Diabol.
JO: You got me there. Come on, tell me. Where is poor Marcoo right now? I feel sorry for the lad.
LAMINAE: My lips are sealed.
JO: So, I can never write about him again because I don't even know where he is?!
LAMINAE: Well, I can give you a hint...

~~~~~

QUOTE CHALLENGE 2: Week 20

Grisham huddled into a ball as the blizzard roared around him. He couldn't even form words for fear that his mouth could crack. Damn writers... Where the hell am I?!

Suddenly a swirl of lights appeared in front of him. They formed a tornado that the strong wind of the blizzard couldn't disturb. They whirled faster and faster until the form of Laminae in a long fur coat appeared in front of Grisham. He reflectively groaned looking up at her from his balled up position half buried in a snow bank. "Go away!" he yelled to the Jinniyah.

Laminae shook her head and tisked. "If I did that, not only would Jo be upset, but you would be stuck here. Do you even know where you are?"

"No."

"You on top of what many people believe is the highest peak in the world at this period of time. Actually K-2 is taller, but that is not the point. You are on what is called Mount Everest. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Get me out of here!"

"We need to talk first, set the rules, so to speak..."

"Can you get me one of those fur coats?"

"You are wearing a suit jacket. Why do you need two coats when you have only one back?"

"Because I'm freezing!"

Laminae sighed and even Grisham knew that wasn't a good sign. He turned away from her as she started to walk near him. He didn't know what she was, or how he was on top of a mountain he'd never heard of. That wind was so intense and each snow flake seemed to embed in his exposed skin. I can't feel my fingers! He looked down at them as they started to turn black with frostbite, then saw Laminae's hand take his.

Suddenly, Grisham fell to the floor. He looked up and saw his own things. They were in his living quarters in Santa Helena. The woman waved her hand and his skin started to turn back to a healthy pinkish hue. "How did--?"

She thrust a finger in his face and said, "You only listen."

Grisham didn't like her tone, but took Jo's advice and not get her riled up. For some reason, he felt that that odd dark skinned woman with an attitude might help him. He shook off the layer of snow from his shoulders, knees and head and stood up. Finding that he was a good foot taller than her made him strong, but just for a minute. Her eyes were not welcoming, or even friendly. He did as she suggested and remained quiet.

"You will not remember anything about me," she said forcefully, still waving that finger in his face.

Great, Grisham thought. Looking forward to it...

"Or anything that happened to you since you were bothering Jo and I sent you to Mount Everest. Jo likes you, and I have come to realize that Vera does miss you. I only want what my masters and mistresses want. Vera's taste is ... lacking at best, but to each his or her own. What you will remember is that you have to treat Vera with respect and show that love that you profess to have. She is married and will have her husband's child so she sets the boundaries. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grisham said.

Laminae walked toward him and clamped her hand on the top of his head. He felt lightheaded and the room around him contorted and whirled. Grisham dropped to the floor. He shook off the dizziness and saw that he was in his apartment, alone. He stood up, wondering how he came to be laying on the floor, wondering why he was even in his apartment. Last he remembered, he was putting recruits through drills.

He saw that he was dressed in civilian clothes and hurriedly donned his uniform and rushed out the door in case Montoya was patrolling the area for him. He heard a woman's scream and ran around the corner to it. In front of the bank, Grisham saw Vera desperately keeping hold of her purse as a large ogre of a man was pulling on the other end of it. The robber was angry and pulled a gun out of his pocket as Grisham kept running toward them, too worried to speak. He was only feet away when the robber raised the gun to probably hit Vera over the head with the barrel. He wouldn't dare shoot a Dona in the middle of the town, even though no one around had come to her rescue. The cowards had only turned their heads or ran out of the way. Grisham yelled, "Don't even think about it!" as he put his body between Vera and the robber. As he smiled a dazzling smile to Vera, Grisham jut elbow out behind him, knocking the bandito unconscious. The gun fell out of the man's hands and Grisham kicked it aside.

"Marcoo," Vera said gratefully.

Grisham swooned (GRISHAM: Guys don't swoon!) Grisham gloated and motioned to a couple of guards who had come, of course, too late, "Take this garbage away," he said, kicking the bandito in the head. "Señora Hidalgo, are you hurt?"

Vera clutched her purse and put a hand to her hair. "No. Thanks to you, Capitan," batting her eyes at him.

GRISHAM: Okay, guys swoon.

Grisham wanted to embrace his love, but knew he couldn't right then and there. They had to be careful as she was a Señora and he was... well, he was Grisham.

GRISHAM: Hey!

He tenderly took Vera's hand and slowly lead her off the bank's porch toward the cantina. Since there were others around, he used his brain in more ways than one when he asked, "May I have one of my men escort you home, Señora? You've had a trauma." He did want her safe on the way home and may not be the right decision to be too willing to do the honors himself as he wanted to resume their affair, but just because one of his men took her home, that didn't mean that Grisham could tag along...

Vera said, "No, Capitan. That will not be necessary."

GRISHAM: JO!
JO: Just hold on. Man! Have patience...

"I see," Grisham said. "Your husband, Don Gaspar, is in town and will do the honors of course..."

"No," Vera lightly said, her eyes twinkling. "Gaspar has gone to Monterrey on business. I was hoping that you would be my escort, Capitan."

GRISHAM: Yes!
JO: Just think with your head, big guy.
GRISHAM: I always do, Jo. <pause> Don't look at me like that. There's no need to roll your eyes.

Grisham ordered his men to clean up the area and for everyone else to get back to what they were doing. He kept a light hold on Vera's hand as he lead her to her carriage and helped her into it. He wanted to jump in there with her, but there were people around. He had to act official. He asked Vera to wait for just a moment and ran off to the stables. He mounted his white steed and rode back to the square, back to Vera. He was going to spend the rest of the day, and hopefully the night at the Hidalgo hacienda, but he would need transportation back to Santa Helena again.

GRISHAM: See? I'm always thinkin'.
JO: Ball's in your court now, Mark.
GRISHAM: What ball? What kind of court?
JO: Get outta here.
GRISHAM: With pleasure.

Grisham waited for Vera to yank the reins and her carriage to pull out before he followed on horseback. As they rode past Montoya's headquarters, Grisham could see Montoya on the balcony, studying them. Grisham cockily tipped his hat for his superior. Montoya tightly smiled and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and walked back into his office. As they rode out of town, Grisham nudged his stallion up so he was even with Vera in the carriage.

JO: By the way, Grisham. What's the name of your horse?
GRISHAM: Will you shut up?!
JO: Fine.

A Bit of Humanity