Long Walks, Last Flights & Other Strange Journeys by Ken Scholes

Author:Ken Scholes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy Fiction, Fiction, Fantasy, American, General, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780982073001
Publisher: Fairwood Press
Published: 2008-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

Sue brought her own god home the next week. She said his name was Rud. He had two penises, a dog’s head, a lion’s body and big wings. He had a snake for a tongue.

“It sure is ugly,” I said.

“Goddamn it, Billy,” she said, throwing a People magazine at me. “Show some respect.”

I grabbed a beer and headed back to the living room.

Sue’s personal god never left her side. She set it in the kitchen window sill when she cooked, drove it around with her in the car when she ran errands and placed it on top of the television in our bedroom at night when she slept. Fact is, at first I didn’t mind, though I thought it was a bit odd. She seemed happy, and her being happy meant I could drink more beer and not go to church.

Three nights later we were laying in the shadow of her new god when Sue rolled over and kissed me, hard on the mouth, like she hadn’t done for some time now.

“Guess what?” she said.

“You’re horny?”

She punched me in the arm just hard enough to show she meant it. Then she giggled. “No.”

I sighed. “Didn’t think so.”

She nuzzled in close, her lips brushing my earlobe. “I’m pregnant, Billy.”

I felt a hundred things at once. First, of course, being surprise. I sat up. “You’re what?”

She sat up, too, grinning. “Pregnant.”

“That’s not possible. You know that. I took the test. You were there when the doctor — ”

She put a finger over my mouth. “I know what the doctor said.”

Now I started doing math in my head. My surprise was turning into anger and I shoved her finger away. “But we haven’t . . . I mean, we . . . ” Realization came crawling home like a drunk without his keys. She hadn’t wanted any from me for at least six months. I could feel my scalp tingling. “Who was it, Sue?” A parade of men marched across my imagination.

She crawled out of bed, the nightgown bunching and pulling here and there to reveal her skinny legs and round breasts. She went the television, took down Rud and brought him to bed. She petted him while I stared at her. Finally, she looked up at me. “Didn’t you want a baby, too?”

I didn’t know what say or do. I climbed to my feet and grabbed my pillow. “Not like this.”

I tossed and turned on the couch for an hour, expecting to hear her crying in the other room. She wasn’t. She was crooning and singing and speaking in tongues to her new god. I got up, grabbed a beer and went to the porch.

The moon hung high. Frogs croaked. The night air fell on me like a hot, wet wool blanket.

“Hell of a mess, Stevie,” the voice said.

I looked around. “Who’s there?”

“You know who it is, Stevie.”

I looked around some more. “And why do you keep calling me Stevie?”

A pause. “I call everyone Stevie.”

I bent over and looked under the porch swing.

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