The Killing Luck by Fredrick L Stafford

Author:Fredrick L Stafford [Stafford, Fredrick L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-29T22:00:00+00:00

Aden exhaled. “Incredible. You ok?”

Molka exhaled. “To put it mildly.”

“I think I pulled both my groin muscles.”

Molka glowed. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m dehydrated too. My water bottle’s in my backpack. Go grab it for me?”

“No way. I’m too comfortable. Grab it yourself.”

Aden rose and walked nude through the fire lit darkness to his backpack. He retrieved his water bottle and sat and chugged it on the blanket next to Molka. “If you were my wife, you would’ve fetched this for me.”

“Wrong,” Molka said. “This girl doesn’t fetch for anyone.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Aden toasted Molka and chugged more.

Molka rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. “Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“There have been a lot of women. But never the right one. Have you ever been married?”

Molka took the water bottle from Aden and sipped. “No.”

“Why not?”

“There was only one man. But he wasn’t the right one.”

Aden slipped back into the sleeping bag and took Molka into his arms. “So if we got married, we would live in Tel Aviv.”

“We would live in Haifa.”

“We’ll live in Tel Aviv but have a vacation home in Haifa.”

“Beachfront?” Molka said.

“Naturally.”

Molka nodded. “I can work with that.”

“And we’ll have a Persian cat named Avro.”

“No. We’ll have a Boston Terrier named Shakespeare.”

“And our first born will be a beautiful son named Zeke.”

“No. Our first born will be a strong daughter named Dava.”

“How about this?” Aden said. “Our first born will be strong beautiful fraternal twins, Zeke and Dava.”

“That would be so adorable.”

“And every Sunday morning, we’ll sleep late, then head over to—”

“Café Jarrod for smoothies,” Molka said.

“Yes! You see? Our marriage would be perfect!”

“Yes. It would be perfect.”

They kissed with perfect passion.

“You really like my secret place?” Aden said.

“I do.”

“Then we need a code word for it.”

“You mean a secret code word only you and I will know?”

“Yeppers. Something we can use freely on campus. And I just thought of the perfect one: Café Jarrod West.”

“That’s three words,” Molka said.

“Code phrase then.”

“Café Jarrod West. Sounds good to me.”

“Cool,” Aden squirmed, boy-like. “Wait, I thought of something even better. All you have to do is say, ‘I miss the smoothies at Café Jarrod West’ to me, and that will mean you want to meet me here at high noon the next day. Got it?”

Molka smiled. “You’re so silly.”

“No. I’m being serious. Repeat and define the code phrase.”

“Ok. Code phrase: I miss the smoothies at Café Jarrod West. It means I want you to meet me here at high noon the next day.”

“Good.” Aden smiled. “You can say it to me right now for real if you want.”

Molka turned away from his silly face and pondered into the fire. “I’m leaving Hazlehurst.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“When?” Aden said.

“Very soon.”

“I don’t want you to leave. When is very soon?”

“Before the end of the month,” Molka said.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Because I don’t belong here.” Molka locked her eyes onto Aden’s and took his hands into hers. “And neither do you. I want you to come with me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.

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