Chapter Six

Larene opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. She turned her head and realized she was in a narrow bed with a naked sleeping man. Larene had slept very deeply and she was slightly disorientated. She lifted up the sheet revealing not only was she naked, but mud was just about everywhere. No more wine at lunch she thought, as she swung her long legs off the bed and put her feet on the floor. Larene quickly recalled the events of the previous day. She could see a trail of muddy footprints on the floor that led to Paul's bedroom. In the corner was a pile of muddy clothes. She turned around to see her lover, still asleep, lying precariously close to the edge of the mattress. She sat on her side of the bed for a moment and collected her thoughts. She hung her head down a little and smiled. She is not the woman she thought she was.

Larene spent a long time in the bathroom getting cleaned up and dressed. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she leaned forward on the sink. Her world – their world - had changed during the night. Familiar routines of the past wouldn't feel appropriate or comfortable now. They dared to join together and share an intimacy that few would be blessed enough to experience. The Genie was out of the bottle. Their relationship evolved as it had to, as youth, nature, and love dictated. This is an adjustment they both must accept. Happiness and personal growth sometimes demands that we do something, reach for something, out of our normal level of comfort. There was one thing for certain, she thought to herself as she tied her shoes, we are going to need a bigger bed!

Down in the kitchen, she made coffee. She poked her head outside the kitchen door. She frowned. No goodies on the porch this morning. She sat down with her coffee and put her feet up on Paul's chair. She looked at the broke cuckoo clock, 10:40. Much of the morning was gone. She could hear Paul moving around above her. He would make his way downstairs in just a few minutes. It isn't like we can pretend nothing happened, she thought. Why would we want to?

Paul came into the kitchen wearing one of his older suits. He smiled, said good morning, and sipped on the coffee she had poured for him. They didn't speak; the kitchen was quiet, except for the noisy ticking of the wall clock. Larene poured herself another cup of coffee, stretched her legs out and put her feet in Paul's lap. She wiggled her toes and broke the awkward silence.

"Paul, if you love me as much as you told me over and over again last night, you will dig out my moccasins from the mud pit in the back yard," she said smiling and batting her long eyelashes. Paul smiled, massaging her feet with his strong hands, and said simply, "I will do whatever it takes to make you happy." She knew that.

She entered the cellar from inside the house and Paul from the outside entrance. He handed Larene her mud caked moccasins.

"My hero!" she gushed admiringly, and kissed him on the cheek.

"You should see the fox that someone left us. It's huge! And really mean!" She followed him outside to where the cage was. Inside it was the biggest fox either of them had ever seen. He bared his teeth, snarled and bit the bars of his cage. Judging from its appearance, the animal was definitely rabid.

"We need to be really careful with this one," Paul said. He put a burlap drop cloth over the cage, in hopes that the darkness would calm the creature down.

They went back down into the cellar and checked on the wolf and the 5 test subjects. The wolf was fine. It may take a week or two before the wolf starts showing obvious symptoms. They moved on to the test subject cages. Unsurprisingly, 4 of the animals were dead. Miraculously, one young tabby cat was still alive. They couldn't decide if it looked better or the same as it had the day before. Paul reviewed the serum composition and Larene checked the case history of the cat. This was a breakthrough. They were very excited, the evidence of progress revitalized them.

Paul prepared 4 test formulas. The first one was the exact same formula given to the cat to see if the results could be replicated. This was their control group. He then tweaked the formula with slightly difference variations to see if he could enhance the results. It was a long tedious process, but good research was worth the effort. Larene picked out 4 more test animals and injected them with Paul's new serums. She took notes and documented the entire procedure.

They sat on the porch, drinking cool spring water and trying to eat some beef jerky that one of his rancher patients had given him. They each tried a bite from a big piece of jerky. They looked at each other, both wondering how they were going to chew what they had in their mouth. It tasted good enough, but it was as tough as leather.

"Look!" Paul shouted, with a mouth full of jerky, "over there," pointing to a clearing in the woods, "a giraffe!" Larene turned to look. Paul quickly spit out the wad of meat and tossed it. Larene's peripheral vision detected the ruse. She frowned at him.

"Paul, please turn your head for a moment." He did, and she quickly removed the unpalatable plug of beef from her mouth.

"I have an idea, why don't we go into town for dinner?" Suggested Paul, "If we hurry, we can retain the services of the barrel maker, and perhaps even talk to the cobbler's wife."

They quickly changed into nicer clothes. They didn't have time to rig the wagon so they would have to ride their horses. This meant that Larene had to wear a very long dress, so she would look ladylike sitting on a saddle. With alacrity and haste, they saddled the horses. Paul had forgotten about Beowulf's braided mane. Larene looked at the flowers questioningly.

"I'll explain later," Paul said, getting a slight head start on Larene.

As they rode past the curve not far by their house, Paul saw a young foxhound tied to a post formerly manned by Rummy. Larene also saw the new dog; she looked sympathetically at Paul.

Larene was an excellent rider. Perfect posture, excellent balance, and she moved with the horse in perfect harmony. Paul always looked like he was on the verge of falling off. It was 4:45 in the afternoon by Paul's watch, when they tied the horses up, just outside of town. They walked at a fast pace down the main street where most of the shops conducted business. Across the street from where they were walking, they saw Friar Johannssen talking to one of his parishioners. He looked at them intensely from across the street, as if he could see through them. His eyes narrowed as his stare projected a judgmental expression of rejection. Then his face softened and his eyes sparkled. A knowing friendly smile of love and acceptance filled his countenance. He nodded slightly, in recognition. Maybe they weren't going to hell after all.

The barrel maker shared storefront space with the blacksmith. Barrel making is an art and one of the master trades. Paul's father held enormous respect for skilled tradesmen. Christopher was the town's barrel maker, he was barely 5 feet tall, white hair and balding. His grey mustache needed a trim. He looked old, but spry. Paul explained the problem with the cistern. Christopher promised to come out the next day. The wood needed to be resealed. He would try and use the old metal hoop, otherwise he would have to fabricate a new one. Larene suggested he wear boots.

They reached the cobbler's shop just before it closed. Foster was about forty, average height, pale from working inside, wearing a big leather apron, and had big, gnarled hands. He made and repaired shoes, but he could repair saddlebags and other leather items as well. Foster looked disappointed when he realized they weren't there to retain his services. Paul and Larene explained about the research and the need for a cure. He grasped most of what they told him, but some seemed to go over his head. His gypsy wife, Florica, was upstairs cooking dinner. They met when the gypsy clan was in town years ago. They fell in love. It was easier for her to be a part of his world than for him to become a gypsy. Florica left the clan, they got married, and they had lived and worked together ever since. Foster called out her name and asked her to come down. She carefully walked down the steep steps. In her younger days she probably was a beauty. She still cared about her appearance, but the years had been less than kind. Her clothes and jewelry were an amalgam of gypsy and local attire. Her skin was pale for a gypsy; she had exotic facial features, strong and dramatic. Her hair was still dark, piled on top of her head. Her eyes were shiny black, like polished ebony. Her colorful shawl covered most of her body. She sat down and looked at Paul and Larene with classic mistrust. Larene and Paul explained the situation exhaustively to Florica. When they were finished, Florica looked at the couple, trying to figure out how she could benefit by giving them information. This was an instinctive behavior for all gypsies. To give away anything for free was painful. Foster said something to her in a broken gypsy dialect. She straightened up in her chair.

"Wolf bane," she said. "Most likely wolf bane…"

"Wolf bane is poisonous," Paul said softly, "especially the roots."

"This is a very special kind of wolf bane," she said in a mysterious voice, "it only grows in a remote area, it has to be harvested at just the right time, and it has be ground and prepared in a way only gypsy healers know. It is very powerful, like magic, and it can do amazing and horrible things. Maleva will not give you this."

"But I saved her life!" Paul said, shocked. The woman smiled, shaking her head slightly.

"She would have rather died that day than owe you a life debt." She heard something bubbling upstairs and retreated to her kitchen. Paul and Larene thanked Foster, and left the shop. The cool night air was crisp, the sky was clear, and you could see the stars. He held Larene's hand. They were thinking the same thing. They now had more questions than answers.

They were hungry. It was too late to eat at the boarding house, and the lodge restaurant would be crowded. The thought of going to the pub for dinner seemed like an ordeal, but that was their best option. The Hog's Breath Pub had an oil lamp hanging above the door. The soft yellow light was welcoming. Paul stopped and looked at Larene. Her long golden hair was draped across her shoulders. The glimmer from the lamp flattered her face, hair, and eyes. She was still holding his hand, which she squeezed gently. He spoke to her without words. He was the luckiest man in the world to have her in his life. She understood.

They entered the pub and were immediately assaulted with a cacophony of loud music and screaming voices. They waved at the people they knew.

Larene tugged at Paul's jacket, "isn't that Wellen over there… with Judith?"

Through the clouds of smoke he could see his friend and date. Wellen stood up and gestured them over. Paul and Larene wove through the tables and people, and successfully navigated their way to the couple. Paul and Wellen shook hands, and Wellen presented Judith as his lady friend. They had seen each other in town but had not been formally introduced. The good captain found two chairs so their unexpected guests could sit with them.

"What brings you two out tonight?" Wellen asked, trying not to yell.

Larene and Paul said "Dinner," at the same time.

"Nothing else?" Wellen probed. Paul briefed Wellen while Judith and Larene tried to carry on a conversation. Paul overheard Judith telling Larene about her new inventory of fancy corsets and bustles. Larene in a corset and wearing a bustle? Paul stood a better chance of getting pregnant.

They all ate lamb stew with fresh bread and pale ale. Wellen looked happy, and so did Judith; it was good to see them together. Four very different people enjoying each other's company.

Cass, one of the town's carpenters, came by their table to say hello. He was drunk. He loudly proclaimed that Wellen and Paul had the prettiest women in town. They concurred and thanked him. He went on, identifying all the beautiful physical attributes of the ladies; his descriptions were rather bawdy. The foursome chose to ignore his interruptions the best they could; then the inebriated man put his hand on Larene's shoulder. Paul stood up.

Wellen leaned back in his chair, as to get a clearer picture of this scenario. Not much surprised the Captain at this point in his life. He viewed this David and Goliath scene with a clinical perspective. Cass was a little younger than Paul, two inches taller, twice as wide, had a greater reach, and was much stronger. Paul had taken off his glasses, turned his side to Cass, and balanced his weight by slightly bending his knees. His hands were not balled up into fists, but only slightly closed. Paul looked at Cass with dark, expressionless eyes, as if he were a piece of meat. Paul didn't have to order Cass to move his hand. Cass stood up straight and squared off in front of Paul. Wellen remembered Paul's chess strategy, let the enemy make its move first and take advantage of its weaknesses. Apparently Paul's father, the sea captain, wasn't without some influence, Wellen thought admiringly.

"Dr. Paul, I really didn't mean nothin' by it," Cass said apologetically during a brief moment of mental clarity. Paul remained motionless and continued to stare at Cass. Cass glanced at Larene, and muttered that he was sorry. Paul relaxed, nodded to Cass, and sat back down. The lumbering hulk of a man worked his way to the bar.

Paul looked at Judith and said, "Larene loves those fancy imported corsets. Do you think you might have one in her size?" Expressionless and without looking at him, Larene kicked Paul under the table.

They walked outside together. Both Wellen and Judith lived in town. They said their goodbyes and the two couples set off in different directions. The ride back to the house was a little eerie. It was dark and still. The horses knew the way. They talked about the evening and all the different conversations.

I'll get Angel, you go on inside," Paul said as he took the saddle off of Beowulf. The downstairs of the house was dark when he came in from the barn. He walked upstairs just in time to see Larene walk into her bedroom. He stood outside of his bedroom door for a moment reflecting. He was thinking about the night before, and everything that had took place. Seeing Larene go into her bedroom made him feel just a little lonely and let down. He stood at his bedroom door, on the verge of a sulk. Just then Larene popped her head outside the door of her room. "Are you going to help me? I can't move this bed by myself."