428. Georgic

This chapter takes place in the days before Bravo rendezvoused with Dyad.


Yul laid on her side, her arm roped over Rog's chest and her nose snuggled against his masculine neck. Her left knee anchored his torso to the bed. The clean sheets were half draped over trunk and limb with the loyalty of dog to master, quiet and warm as the backside of pelts before the fire; lazy as wine laden bellies.

Twirling the hair around his nipple with her nail, Yul whispered, "Baby, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"I know this is gonna sound funny, so promise you won't laugh."

"Ok."

"I'm serious."

"Got it. What's on your mind?"

"And don't be gettin' the big head either."

Rog rolled his head over, his eyes too close to hers to focus.

"Cause you know I can make your big head small again."

"Baby, ask your question and I'll answer as best I know how. Now what's bugging you?"

"How the hellocks can you be so unagendaed all the time?"

"Unagendaed? Is that a word?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, don't think I do."

"Ok. Let me put it this way. You have something I don't."

"Yeah."

"Shut the frail up."

Rog grinned.

"I'm trying to be serious."

"Sorry pearl, go on."

"You always say exactly what you mean."

"And?"

"Not everyone does. I don't."

Rog sat up.

"I want that. I want to be that way."

"So what's stopping you?"

"I don't know how. I want you to teach me."

"Teach you what?"

"Damn, sometimes I wonder if that head of yours is as thick as--never mind. Can you teach me how to . . ."

"How to what?"

"Just be myself." (Yul starts crying)

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"You're so damn comfortable in your own skin. Don't you see it? You're like an old pair of jeans and everyone, well almost everyone, loves you because of it. You make people feel at home, at ease, they gravitate toward you."

"I' don't know what to tell you. I'm just me."

"Shiott! That's what I'm saying. How do you do it. How are you so damn genuine all the time?"

"It's all I know, all I've ever known."

"How? How do you know this?"

Rog thought for a second. "You know, it's awful early for this kind of talk."

"I'm not letting you go. How?"

Rog rubbed his eyes to buy some time. His brain was still foggy from whatever was in that bowl. "Well, I suppose two things." Then he paused, not because he wanted to tease, but because he didn't quite know what those two things were."

"Start talking or I'm gonna to rip your nipples off."

"Alright, I'd say the first thing was my dad. He was as honest as the day is long, and on the southern reaches, during summer, believe me, the days are long. You know, I don't think I ever told you this, but there were two things that only happened once in my life. I lied; and my father whipped the living shiott out of me. I always wanted to be like my father, always wanted to have his groundedness, his broader perspective."

"Was there a connection?"

"What?"

"Between the lying and the whipping?"

"Oh, yeah. I lied to my father." Rog grinned as if lost in a memory that was funny now but not then. "Needless to say, well . . . "

"What was the second thing?"

"The animals."

"What animals?"

"The one's on our ranch. What animals were you thinking?"

"Never mind. What about the animals?"

"Well, with a Kawai, what you see is what you get. So, I suppose, growing up with Kawais, you just learn to be as you are. Never really occurred to me to be any different."

"So you're genuine because of a Kawai?"

Rog laughed. Bend over, I'll show you."

"Serious. I'm not following."

"Let me say it this way. A kawai, or any other animal for that matter, has one mode--completely honest. Its just the way they are. They love unconditionally, they trust absolutely and, like my father, they know no other way than to be who they are--to be honest. I suppose when you grow up around animals and you have a father like mine, you don't really know any other way."

Yul sat silently for a long time. "Rog?"

"What baby?"

"I want a ranch. I want animals, Kawais, lots of them."

Rog opened his arms and pulled her into him as if pulling a child from the ocean. "Me too." After a slight pause he added, "By the way, what did I snuffle?"

"Don't ask."

Before he could protest, her lips were on his and thoughts of questions were as distant as the possibility of that ranch.