Alpaca My Bags by VIOLET PATTON & Book 1

Author:VIOLET PATTON & Book 1
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VIOLET PATTON

18

Outer Limits

Days went by while Philly fiddled with building plans. Wayne spent many hours on our veranda watching him fiddle, measuring when he said measure and haranguing about the value of free ice.

I kept my man-hole filled to the brim. If I don’t keep Philly banked with enough calories, eventually, he dissolves. Picture a Star Trek beaming up process, his molecules dissolving and morphing into another plane. In the Outer Limits, he materializes a gaunt waft without a woman to feed him.

An AC repairman gave us the bad news, and we bought a new unit. In freshly cooled air-conditioning, I mustered the strength to unpack my kitchen crates. I found Philly’s highball glasses and quietly slipped Giselle’s jelly jar into a crate of the items I couldn’t fit in the mini kitchen. Every day, Philly ferried our unnecessary stuff to our storage unit and returned with a fresh bag of ice. Like I said, free ice was an essential part of our daily routine, and I did not need Wayne to convince me so.

Madonna felt sorry for us and brought over a leaky blow-up bed, which was better than nothing. I rearranged Philly’s nest of pillows, blankets, and cushions, turning it into a semi-decent bed.

We avoided the princess bed topic like it was a plague.

Faithfully, I attended water aerobics class, checking for dead bodies at the bottom of the pool before splashing water to tinny CD music.

What else could I do? Fitting into the Oasis grove has become a priority.

Philly would not budge on moving to Scottsdale, and besides, I felt more attached to Ann, Alice, and Madonna every day. I hadn’t had a decent girlfriend since leaving Odessa, and that threesome included me in everything they did.

Two days before the alpaca hiking trip, I readied myself and Philly. I tried on my hiking boots, put on the walking shorts, plus the safari hat, and walked up and down Mississippi Road, chanting my new mantra: You love hiking. Alpacas are gentle animals.

Philly glanced at his boot box, then went back to planning our Arizona room.

By the morning of the hike, I had convinced myself hiking a mountain named Diablo would be worth an afternoon’s lark.

I’ve done worse, haven’t I?

“You guys ready?” Anne waited in the furrow.

My pile of equipment for an overnight trip looked ridiculous.

Philly stood on one side of the carport, glaring. I had dressed him in his camo hiking shorts, a clean white T-shirt, and his rattlesnake proof hiking boots. He refused to wear the groovy safari hat.

“What? This was your idea, remember?” He made no comment, hacked a loogie, and spit into the oleanders.

“I’m gonna deliver the goods, you guys. Then Madonna will drop me off. We can’t leave our golf carts parked over at the loading area.” Ann pulled an aerosol can from her short’s pocket. “I bought sunscreen. I don’t remember you buying any, did you?”

“Oh, I didn’t. We’ll be okay.”

“No, you won’t. It’s imperative you wear it. Him, too.” She aimed the aerosol nozzle, and we both looked at Philly.

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