The Administrator (17 page)

Her lips tightened. “George? How do you know that?”

“I don’t know. I just know it’s true.”

Neither said anything more, and after a silent dinner, they went to bed.

Bev watched him from the doorway as he undressed, then she laid down on her side of the bed as close to the edge as possible. His dark eyes questioned her silently, then he got into bed and rolled over with his back to her.

He awoke to voices in the living room. He felt on Bev’s side of the bed. It was empty, but still warm from her body.

He glanced at the dim, green face of the clock glowing in the darkness of the room. “Two a.m.? What’s she doing up at this hour?” he whispered to the dark ceiling.

He got out of bed and went to the living room toward the muffled voices.

Rays of silver light from the moon shining through the window etched the outline of Bev’s soft curves though her thin nightgown as she stood in front of the painting.

She turned to face him as he came through the doorway. She was holding the skull. “Now I know who you were talking to,” she whispered. Her voice was low, sultry.

It’s Barlow, isn’t it?” he asked quietly. “It’s his skull. He killed his wife and they hung him. But he didn’t die, did he?”

She laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “Oh, he died all right. And went to hell where he belonged.” She held the skull aloft. The moon’s rays caught it and sent shafts of bright light streaking out of its eye sockets. “It’s not Barlow’s skull. It’s Eleanor’s.” She traced the crack on the head with a delicate finger. “This is where he smashed her head with a shovel.”

“Eleanor’s?”

“Of course. She vowed revenge, and she got it. Barlow is in the worst kind of hell. Neither here ... ” She pointed up with a scarlet fingernail. “Or there.” Her hand gracefully swung with a theatrical flourish to point at the floor.

“What? Then where....” His voice trailed off as he followed her gaze to the skull in her other hand. “He ... he’s in there?”
 

She laughed again. This time with a hint of madness. “Eleanor wants to live again. She was cheated out of her life. Now, she wants it back.”

“Back? That’s impossible.”

She smiled. “Not quite impossible. She can trade.”

“Trade what? To who?”

She reached a slender hand to caress his cheek. “My poor, dear George. She told you to get rid of the skull. Now, it’s too late.”

“She told me? Bev, stop it! Give me that damned thing. I’m going to destroy it right now. We’re both going crazy.” He reached for the skull, but she pirouetted away, dancing and twirling around the room. Moonlight shimmered on her flowing, blond curls.

“No,” she sang as she twirled. “Too late. Your sweet Beverly is gone.” She blew him a kiss across her palm. “Just like that. Poof. Gone.”

“Bev? Bev, I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. Don’t talk like that, please.”

“Eleanor,” she whispered and blew him another kiss. “Eleanor. Beverly doesn’t exist anymore.” She lowered her eyelids, black lashes fanning over her cheeks. “I’m sorry you can’t be together, but don’t worry. You’ll have company.” She waved her hand gracefully as if dismissing a servant, then raised the skull over her head.

Moonlight slashed silver daggers from its eye sockets. Its death grin widened, then yawned into a gaping, black abyss.
 

George screamed once.

Yes, We Have No Virgins Today

“What are you doing here?” The village dragon bellowed. “Where is my virgin?”

Smoke plumed from the mouth of the cave, and well aimed, spiked flames licked at the bushes beside the full-figured woman standing in front of the cave. She nimbly skipped away from the burning foliage, shifted nervously from one foot to the other and placed her hands defiantly on her ample hips. Her bright red fingernails clutched at her flowing skirt. “Sir Dragon, I’m here because ... uh, gee, you’re a lot bigger that I expected.”

The Dragon lowered his head and rolled back his leathery lips, displaying a mouth full of yellowed, razor sharp teeth. His beady, red eyes raked the woman from her dainty sandals up to her round breasts the size of grapefruits peeking over the top edge of her almost nonexistent bodice. “You’re here because I’m big? I’m a dragon! What did you expect?”

She glanced nervously back over her shoulder toward the village. The large, gold hoops dangling from her ears made a “plop-plop” sound against her flushed cheeks as she quickly turned her attention back to the dragon. “I ... uh ... that’s not ... I don’t—”

“Don’t tell me they’re trying to pass you off as a virgin.” He chuckled and clucked his seven foot tongue against the blood red roof of his scaly mouth. “I may not be the brightest dragon around, but even I am not that naive.”

The woman moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms tightly beneath her bosom. The gesture shoved her breasts even higher making them more the size of watermelons than grapefruits. She shook her head, clanging the heavy, gold earrings against her cheeks again. “That’s not why I’m here, Sir Dragon.”

The dragon arched the bony ridges above his eyes. “Hmm, they’re doing wonders with silicone now-a-days, aren’t they?” He grinned a serpentine grin displaying layers of teeth.

“Silicone? Why you over-grown lizard! These are all mine. Given to me by the good Lord to do with as I please. And I’ll thank you to keep your beady eyes off them.”

He thumped the ground behind him with his ponderous tail and bellowed, “Lizard? You foolish woman, I could squash you with one claw. False bravery does a dead woman little good.” He raised a giant arm above her as if he was about to swat a fly and shot a blazing bolt of flame at the grass where she stood.

She leapt to the side, her skirt swinging in wide arcs. “Wait! I ... I’m sorry. My temper is always getting me into hot spots.” She glanced down at the smoldering grass. “No pun intended.” She laughed nervously, then raised herself to her full height and looked straight into the dragon’s eyes. “I have to tell you something. Something important.”

The dragon lowered his arm and sneered. “Did the villagers send you?”

“No. I volunteered. We figured with your ... ahh ... specific tastes that I’d be the last one you would want for lunch.”
 

“Hmmm, you’re a spicy wench, aren’t you? Probably tough as tree bark too.”
 

“I’m not a wench. My name’s Jolene.” She smiled coquettishly. “Besides, I’ve never seen a dragon up close.”

He raised his serpentine neck, spread his wings and blasted the weeds at her feet into ashes.
 

She jumped away from the smoking weeds.
 

“Well now you’ve seen me up close.” He blew a gray-black smoke ring through his nose with a snort. “Enough!” he roared. “Where is my lunch?”

“I ... I came to tell you that the village has no virgins left.”

“No virgins?”

She shook her head. “Not one. We’ve scoured the countryside. There are none to be had. They’ve all been had ... uh ... if you catch my meaning.” She gave him a saucy wink and giggled.

“Not funny!” Thundered the dragon. “Every six months, I get a virgin for lunch or I’ll destroy the whole village. That’s the deal. It’s lunch time. I don’t have much of a sense of humor on an empty stomach.” He sneered, flashing yellow teeth. “I suppose I could eat you even if you are tough as my toenail.”

“Oh no!” She backed up a few more steps. “Everyone knows that I’m about as far from a virgin as you can get.”

“Humph!” he snorted. “What’s in that cart behind you?”

“I brought you something else. Pigs and goats.”

“Pigs and goats? Bah!”

Flames flicked over her sandals. She curled her toes and leaped backwards another few feet. Her gold hoops clanged in rapid succession.

“Goat gives me heartburn,” he growled. “All that hair. And those little, knobby horns irritate my throat something awful.” He leaned his massive, scaly head down to look her in the eyes and swirled his apocalyptic tail in spiraling circles over his head. “You know,” he rumbled. “I never really cared much for virgin anyway. Too bland. No pepper. It was you humans who decided that dragons should eat virgins.” He patted his stomach gently with his claw, caught the end of his restless tail, caressed it thoughtfully with his other claw and frowned. “But I do have a very sensitive stomach, so I agreed.”

She brightened. “You’ll have the pigs and goats then?” She asked as she stepped aside leaving the livestock laden cart between her and the dragon.

“Maybe a pig or two for an appetizer.” He grinned and rolled out his tongue to catch the squealing pig he had scooped up out of the cart in a giant claw. He dropped the pig into his gaping mouth and swallowed.

The woman paled. “Appetizer?”

He grinned again. “I always did like a little sauce with my meal,” he said. He gingerly poked her belly with an out-stretched claw. “Hmmm, plump as the little Dough Boy,” he chuckled.

She stared at his poking claw and backed even further away . She backed until a soft “thlummp” announced that her posterior had met a sturdy, poplar tree. Not taking her eyes off the dragon’s flailing claw and gyrating tail, she reached behind her and gripped the tree’s sides with both hands. “The ... the what boy?” she stammered.
 

“The Dough Boy. The little—” He snorted and stopped mid-sentence. He sat back on his haunches, crossed his arms on his protruding stomach, and stroked his chin with one claw. “Oh yeah, you probably don’t watch much TV, do you? You probably have a life!” He sighed loudly. “Well I watch it a lot, you know.”

Puffs of rancid smoke from his heavy sigh enveloped the woman and the tree in a gray haze. She gripped the tree’s sides tighter and coughed.

“Not much else to do in these damp caves that you humans insist dragons must live in.” He rolled his red eyes heavenward. “Oh my. The things I must do just to get a decent meal,” he bemoaned. You humans wouldn’t treat a dog this way, yet you have no conscience when it comes to us poor dragons.” He sighed again, and scooped another squealing pig out of the cart, plopped it into his mouth and belched loudly.

The woman gasped and coughed through the fog that his burp created.
 

The dragon licked his fingers and glared down at her. “No virgins, huh?” he growled.

She backed against the tree even harder as if she could move it with the sheer pressure of her backside.

“Oh my poor stomach,” he moaned as he patted his scaly midsection with his claw. “Inherited it from my mother, you know.” He spread his wings and stood up, freeing his tail from his mighty haunches. “Intestinal inconsistencies. That’s what Mama called it. Runs in the family. Oh well, what’s a dragon to do?”
 

Suddenly, he swung his massive tail upward and brought it down onto the leafy top of the tree the woman held hostage. The tree shuddered and shed its leaves in a green shower onto the woman.

She released the tree from the death grip she held it in and sprinted for the road, her earrings clanging like dinner bells.

The dragon scooped her up in his powerful claws before she made it to the next tree.

“What’s a poor, hungry dragon to do?” he asked rhetorically.

“Wait, Sir Dragon, Wait!”

“Why?” he growled. “You said yourself, there’s no virgins. I gotta eat someone. Keep up my strength, you know. I’m the runt of the litter. If my brothers hear about this, they’ll come over and bully me around again. Just ‘cause they’re bigger.”

She struggled to her feet in his mammoth, clawed paw, keeping her balance by clutching his thumb claw with both hands and glared at him. “STOP! If you eat me, I swear I’ll give you heartburn so bad you’ll think you’ve died and gone to Salami hell.” She stared at his teeth just a few feet away. “Uh ... did you say, bigger? Your brothers are bigger?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important now. Right now, I’m hungry.” He lowered his head until his muzzle grazed her arm as he gazed at her face. “Salami hell?”

“Yep. Salami hell.”

He lowered her to the ground and dumped her from his paw. He patted his stomach with both claws. “Now what am I going to do? Those pigs and goats won’t do at all. I guess I’ll just have to raid the village.”

Jolene stood and brushed the dirt off of her skirt. “Look what you’ve done. Mussed my Sunday best. I’ll never get these stains out. And you can’t raid the village. They’ll lynch me if you do.”

“Why you?”

“Because that’s the way they are. They always have to blame someone else for their problems. Why do you think there are no virgins? Because they can’t control themselves. That’s why. They’re all idiots. They coulda’ saved just one. But noooo. Never think about anyone but themselves.”

“Then who shall I have for lunch?” he whined.

Jolene snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what?”

“It.”

“It?”

“Yeah, but not who’s for lunch. What’s for lunch. Sir Dragon, did you ever have a bagel? Or a pretzel?”

“Uh, no.”

“How about a pina coloda? Or a Colorado Bulldog?”