C. E. Murphy - No Dominion - A Garrison Report

She wasn’t so much talking to herself anymore, which meant I could chuckle without making her lose her head of steam. I didn’t say nothing, though, just laughed and nodded.

Annie nodded once too, kinda sharp and brisk, and kept talking. “I chose this life, Gary. I chose the moments of madness and exhilaration that have come with discovering there are monsters beneath the bed. And if you believe there is something out there, a mastermind or an evil which wishes to destroy you because you in some way bring light into the world, then I cannot believe I’m merely auxiliary to that. I will not believe it. Even if this illness should succeed, if it kills me, it would be unforgivable for you to lay down your sword and give up the fight. So I must believe myself to be a target in my own right.”

She faced me, eyes flashing and color high in her cheeks. “And if I’m worth that much to any agent of darkness, then I am by God going to give it the fight of its life. And the fight of mine.”

Between one breath an’ the next I had her in my arms, spinning her around and kissing her through laughter. “Darlin’, I feel like I oughta be cheering. You shoulda been leading the troops, not patching them up.” I set her down again, trying not to think of how light she’d been in my arms, an’ brushed my thumbs over her cheeks. “And I guess you’re putting me in my place, too, sweetheart. Kinda arrogant of me to figure it was all about me.”

She patted my cheek. “Yes, but very male.”

I snorted an’ caught her hand to kiss her palm. “Mebbe so. You’re right, though, darlin’. Ain’t no way I’d let anything make me back down if something happened to you— which it ain’t gonna —”

Something happened around her eyes, something that told me she thought I wasn’t much of a liar, but she didn’t call me on it, so I kept going. “So I shoulda seen it myself. Maybe I didn’t getcha into this, darlin’. Maybe we got each other into it, but it don’t matter, ‘cause you’re my bright star. Would I were as steadfast as thou art —”

She laughed all of a sudden, bright an’ quick. “Why do you do that, Gary? I’ve known you almost fifty years and you’ve always used the language like you’re a big dumb hunk, and then you forget yourself and quote poetry.”

I said, “Girls like it,” as solemn as I could, and Annie laughed again.

“I know I did. I still do. But I knew your parents, Gary. Neither of them were marble-mouthed, and they both said “isn’t” instead of “ain’t”. I could understand it if they had, but it’s an affectation and it’s gotten more noticeable as you’ve gotten older.”

Still solemn, I said, “You’re only just noticin’ this now? Maybe you’re just gettin’ pickier,” and she gave me a dirty look that I smiled away. “Guess I do it more now ‘cause fares like it. It fits the persona. But I guess I started it way back in college. I learned playing ball that folks underestimate you if they think you ain’t too bright. Gives a guy a chance to learn a lot about what the other team’s thinking and doing, if they don’t worry much about chatting when you’re around. S’pose I got in the habit then and never dropped it, so I gotta pull out the poets once in a while to keep my old grey cells hopping. You want me to give it a rest?”

“Could you?”

“Prob’ly not.”

Annie smiled. “That’s all right. I do like it. And I’ve wondered on and off for years. Decades. But it’s a question—” She swallowed hard. “I suppose it’s one of those things, it’s so silly and not important, and you think you’ll always have time to ask. Now I’m afraid there’s not any time left, so…I asked.”

“We still got all the time in the world, babe.” I curled her close, wishing I could make either one of us believe me. “Silly thing to be sittin’ on for forty years, though. Got anything else that’s been bothering you?”

“I don’t know. Do I want to know the truth about Mary Lou Stravinski?”

A guffaw burst right outta me. “There’s a name I ain’t thought about in a long time. I swear to you, Annie, she fell in that mud puddle just like I said. I never thought she was gonna strip her wet dress off and hand it to me once I put my coat around her, an’ I swear to God she never managed to lay a kiss on me, even if that’s what it looked like when you walked in. I swear I was tryin’ ta get her off me—” I stopped, ‘cause Annie’s eyes were bright and her lips were pressed together like she was trying hard not to laugh. “You know alla this, doncha.”

“Yes, but it’s fun to watch you squirm. I never was really worried about that. You prefer blondes.”

“Gentlemen do. Annie. Annie, what happened back there? Up there. You knocked that crap outta yourself, and then you…” I was pretty damned sure I knew what had happened, and why, and I hated it as much as I loved my girl.

“Took it back in. I told you, Gary. I’m going to give this thing the fight of its life. I can’t do that if it’s out there.” She waved at the windows and meant the whole world beyond ‘em. “Maybe someone did put this sickness in me, but that was on their terms. They’re on mine now.”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, wishing pressing them shut would make everything she was saying go away. But I reckon I’d known just what she was doing, and there was no way she’d have ever done anything else. She wasn’t gonna let somebody else suffer if she had a chance at defeating something. “You’re about the bravest woman I ever knew, Anne Marie Muldoon.”

“It’s not going to end well, is it,” she said real softly. I opened my eyes again to find her looking sad. “I’m sorry, Gary. I feel much stronger than I did earlier. I can feel the—” The sadness turned into a glower that made me laugh. “I’m telling you whether that woman says I should or not. The first animal was a cheetah, of all things, Gary. A cheetah. That’s absurd. I’m not a cat person.”

“Sweetheart, my spirit animal is a tortoise, so I figure they know better than we do. It ain’t just about whether we got an affinity for ‘em. It’s about what gifts they can bring us.”

Somethin’ happened in her eyes, a real seriousness all mixed up with curiosity and maybe a bit more understanding than I wanted to see from her. “Your spirit animal. I didn’t know you had one.”

I tried not to grit my teeth, feelin like I’d blown it. “It shows up a long time from now.”

That understanding in her eyes ran deeper. She tilted her head, studying me like I was some kinda new thing before sayin, real careful, “’Future flashes.’”

“Yeah, darlin’.” My heartbeat was going crazy an’ I was getting hot beneath the collar. I didn’t know how, but I was sure she’d figured out the truth somehow. Intuition, or me being a real bad liar, or something, but I’d let too much slip and she knew . But I couldn’t ask ‘cause if it was my imagination running wild and she didn’t know, then asking would mean the jig was up too. I was starting to blush, and I hadn’t done that in thirty years.

The corner of her mouth turned up just a little. “All right, dear. If you say so. Now, what was I saying. Oh, the cheetah. A cheetah, for heaven’s sake. It’s something a seventeen-year-old girl would want, not a seventy year old lady. The other was—”

“A stag. I kinda saw that one, darlin’. Got a glimpse, anyway.”

“Positively ridiculous,” she said. “Virile and masculine. Why on earth would creatures like that want me?”

I had a hard time pulling my eyebrows outta my hairline. Annie laughed, blushed, and laughed again. “That’s very flattering, but really, Gary, I am seventy years old.”