Green Mountain Incumbent - 2

By D E Fredd

I am saved by a young man probably just out of college. He got my name from Mae. He's in the computer field and admires my work. He wants to talk shop. We are shipwrecked loners in a sea of ultra-liberal environmentalists. He seems interesting. I think about inviting him to go for greasy burgers, onion rings and draft Rolling Rock down at Harlows. But then another seismic, carnal wave passes through my lower body. I cut him short and head for the stairs. It's not been ten minutes. Maybe there is a chance. The bathroom is down on the left. The door is closed. I hear a flush then the splash of water in the sink. When she comes out I'll ask if I can drive her home, maybe see if she wants a quick bite somewhere.

The door clicks and swings open. It's only the hemp lady. How could I have missed my no underwear woman? She wasn't downstairs, I'm sure. Further down the hall is a large bedroom laden with coats. She may be there. I walk down the hall only to find two small children (Gallagher grandkids?) diving onto then burrowing into the mound. They immediately deny they're doing anything, just keeping watch so no robbers come in. I go back down the hall and, as I pass by another bedroom door, I hear a playful shriek, the kind made when someone gets goosed, and then two people laugh softly. I stop and listen. There is more muffled giggling followed by silence and the door opens. It is Hugh Gallagher, the recumbent bicycle guru, tucking his sunrise yellow Lycra shirt into his sky blue Lycra tights. Behind him in the room is my no underwear lady adjusting her hair and Tammy Faye makeup in the bureau mirror. He is embarrassed but ignores me. He has me pegged as someone of little importance so no feeble excuses are needed.

She comes out, closing the door tightly behind her. It looks like it was once a teenager's room judging by the posters on the wall.

She pats me on the arm. "You know when people get caught doing something that looks improper they always say, 'It's not what it seems.' Well, I guess what you suspect happened during the last few minutes is actually what it seems. Hugh and I have an understanding; have had since my babysitting years. We'd appreciate your discretion."

I think about blackmailing her, having her prove to me that the non-underwear policy is not just a sham. That thought melts into a porn film of her and Hugh having at it in various acrobatic positions on his recumbent bike as they pedal toward the Townshend, Vermont Recycling and Reclamation center.

"I'm just a web designer."

"Isn't that a coincidence? My last name is Webster, Kelly Webster. I can work up a list of herbal teas that can ease tension. You must sit hunched over a lot so the neck and shoulders take a beating."

Downstairs some loyal souls begin to sing "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow."

She takes my hand. "I think we should go down and join in Mae's celebration."

"I'll be there in a minute; I need to use the bathroom."

“Please think about what I said. They are both great people. She can continue doing wonders for this state.”

I go into the bathroom. I think about peeing while sitting down, decide it's unnatural and deliberately leave the seat up after flushing. I wash my face with goat's milk soap with several organic additives. When I get downstairs I look for my computer geek buddy but don't see him. Out in the circular drive Hugh is letting those folks, who've yet to be converted, try riding his bike. No underwear lady, wearing a safety helmet, is off to the side, and I wonder if it's worth staying just to see if she dares to ride it. She waves momentarily at me, but is distracted when someone loses control and does a header into a pile of leaves.

I hop in the Ford, put it in all wheel drive and bump my way out to the main road. I peel out, burning rubber for a good fifty feet. I'll head for Harlows and pig out on potato skins. There's bound to be a few hunters there. Maybe I can get some pointers on the best way to nail Spotted Owls. Baby Harp seals are also high on my list.

© D E Fredd 2007

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