BOMAW 1-3 (3 page)

That’s when the worst thing she could have imagined happened. Two bats came flying at her out of nowhere. “Eeeeee…Oh god, ohhhh noooo!” her screaming never stopped as she ducked and ran, holding onto the towel for her body. She dashed out of her bedroom door, wrapping herself in it as she ran. Problem was, they came out behind her. Sylvia’s heart pounded with such force and fear, she was afraid of fainting. Her head throbbed with heat as she dashed for her kitchen door. The house was not big enough for her and two bats. They were one of her phobias. They were probably one of the more intense ones. They caused all sorts of crazy unreasonableness when it came to the level of fear she felt upon an encounter with one…here there were two. She dashed down her porch stairs, stopping at her garage door. Breathing hard, she stared at her closed kitchen screen door, whimpering in panic. Not at all sure of what to do next. She was naked, save for the two towels. Outside…with bats inside. She just stood there panting, then looked around.

“Ohhh, my god, what am I gonna do?” she whimpered, nibbling now on her thumb nail and holding the towel securely to her body. If only she could get to a phone. Her cell phone was in the house in her purse, or she’d call the police or fire department. She’d call somebody, but until those bats were out, she wasn’t going back into that house. She leaned her head back against the garage, miserable.

“What am I gonna do? You stupid bats! I hate you! Get the hell outta my house!” she yelled, as if they understood and would comply. “Okay, calm down…just…calm down. Umm, I’ll just run in, grab the cordless off the wall,” she talked to herself, trying to muster the nerve to attempt this, despite her fear. She walked up the steps slowly. Heart still hammering away. “I can do this. I know I can. I can do this. Just look inside first. If they’re not around, you just run in, grab the phone off the wall and run out.” She swallowed deep, took a deep breath, and opened the screen very carefully, looking in towards the ceiling for the flying creatures. She didn’t see one. She then looked to where the phone hung on the wall, gauging the distance between where she stood and where she had to go to grab it. Making sure her path to run in and back out was unobstructed. “I can do this. I know I can. Just take another deep breath, now blow it out and run for it.”

As she was about to, she looked up beside her to the top of her door. There was a bat hanging upside down staring down at her. “Eeeeee!” She spun in place out of the door, screaming again in panic. Ran down the porch steps, now bawling in fear. Plus, her foot was in pain. Her spin had caused her to pick up a splinter, which felt painful and deep. Once again, she stood by the garage crying, with one foot leaning up and throbbing. There was only one way out of this as far as she could see, and right now, pride be damned.

Naked or not, she was going across the street.

Now hobbling in shame, she stepped out from between her house and garage, looking down both directions of the road. Praying that she could make it across before a passing vehicle could catch her in such an undignified state of dress…or undress. She looked up across the street. “God I hate this…but I ain’t goin’ in that house,” she whimpered to herself. “Why the hell does this kinda mess always have to happen to me?” She’d stalled long enough. Any more, and she was asking for an audience to witness her disgrace. Giving each direction a quick check, she darted across her front lawn, favoring one foot all the way, going as fast as her state of being would allow. She made it across the road, then to his driveway, her eyes on his open door the entire time. She wasn’t about to head there; she didn’t want to be caught standing at his door wrapped in a towel, so she bypassed the front yard and headed straight for the back, out of sight of the road, and there...she would knock.

She stopped at his back deck, looking it over, wondering where the stairs were. She walked around it and noticed that it was enclosed. No way up from outside. You could only come onto the deck from inside of the house. “What kind of ding-a-ling would do this?” she questioned in her desperation. Well, she was not about to chance going back around to the front. “I can get through there,” she thought out loud, “there” being the bottom opening space between the last rail and the deck floor. Looking around on the ground for something to step up on, she found three, five gallon old paint buckets. She grabbed one, turned it bottom up, and stepped up on it to go in under the railing to the back deck. See, now actually, it wasn’t that is was a bad plan. It was just that she was dealing with an old porch deck. That being the case, and her present state of dress…well, it just didn’t make for a successful venture. Of course, this conclusion hadn’t been reached until she was arms, head, shoulders and boobs in under the rail—with just enough towel to keep her ample endowments from complete exposure. She really thought she had it though, when she was able to wiggle her ribs and waist up and in.

However…

Her rear end was another matter entirely, which she came to realize with startling clarity. “Oh no, no, no, no, no! Please, please… emph… emph… emph...” she gasped and mewled, now with her arms extended, her hands flat to the deck trying in vain to wiggle her rear through. Then she heard the sliding glass door opening. Immediately she dropped down to the deck, trying to cover herself the best that she could. In her struggle, she’d lost some of her decency. Her back and sides were practically bare, as were her shoulders. Sylvia pulled on the ends of what there was to the towel, but it was stretched to the limit, barely covering the nipples of her breasts, and not much more.

This was how she was found, much to her humiliation and shame, by Everett Styles…who, with soda, radio and book, stepped out onto his deck to grab some sleep in his porch hammock on what promised to be a beautiful day. He loved this new location for his home. Peaceful, quiet and private…so he thought. “What the hell?” he muttered in clear disbelief, sure that his eyes must be playing tricks on him. Sylvia looked up and thought she would shatter into a million pieces of quivering humiliation. Her bottom lip came out, then began to quiver. Pitifully she cried, “I need help!” Everett’s mouth dropped open.

Shaking his head, he returned, “Well you got me convinced. What are you doing!” he shot back, walking to his deck table with its umbrella to empty his hands. She followed his movements and began crying. “I’m serious. Help me!”

“What the hell are you doing there like that?” He still could not believe this. “I mean, I just asked for a bowl of beef stew, or some cookies would have been fine. But this is a little much…don’t you think?” he asked sarcastically. Well that was more than she could stand. With her mouth wide open, she began bawling. Everett stood stunned, just staring at her. The towel on her head lay in a half tilt, with locks of wet hair escaping. Her face was tear-streaked and all she could do was bawl. Suddenly, the humor of it hit him.

“What were you trying to do?”

“B-b-bats in…in m-m-my house! They ch-chased me. Aaaagh…aaaagh! H-help me!” He couldn’t help it. He was human after all, and he just wasn’t equipped to deal with this scenario any better than he did. He did try…really tried. He bit into his bottom lip. Really hard…well that hurt. Then he tried his tongue…but damn, that spurt of laughter, it got out anyway. “D-d-don’t l-l-laugh at me,” she cried, now starting to hiccup. “Okay, I’m…I’m sorry, but…but…but it still doesn’t explain…I mean, you’re naked, practically, and laying there in my deck rail. Aaaw, come on, stop crying. Tell me what happened?”

“I told y-you. There…there are bats…bats in m-my house. I came out the…the shower and they ch-chased me. I was screaming and I-I ran out the d-door. I didn’t have…nowhere else to…to go-o-o-o-o.” She sniffed, hiccupped and then bawled some more. “I see now. Okay, okay…stop crying now. It’s gonna be okay. But you could have come to the front door,” he reasoned, trying to calm her. “I was scared somebody…somebody would see…see me,” she sobbed. “I am naked here, you know!”

“All right. I understand now. Well, come on in then. I’ll give you one of my shirts or something.”

“I can’t,” she pealed. Well here lay the brunt of completing her humiliation. She stared up at him through tear-washed eyes, the towel drooping to one side. He bit his lip really hard and looked out at the yard to stop another eruption. Then looked back at her after he felt he’d gotten himself under control. “Why not?” he asked simply. “I’m…I’m…I’m stu-u-u-ck!” He blew like a mighty geyser! An eruption of laughter so powerful, no man-made power could help him hold it in. His stomach, his belly vibrating with it, gripped him to weakness that made him drop to his knees, then into a sitting position that laid him back. “Oh god…make it stop…it hurts, oh it hurts. I can’t laugh anymore…oh please…ohhh…ohhh m’god!”

“It's not funny! Get me outta here!” she yelled at him as he rolled on the deck. He tried to sit up and get his bearings, but the minute his tears cleared and he got another look at her, he lost it again. “You just…go to hell, Everett Styles!” she cried out, now mad again as he laughed at her. She started wiggling trying to back out, but found herself well wedged. Then she had to stop as she realized the more she wiggled, the more the towel got twisted, leaving her more and more exposed. She wailed again, just as he’d tried to get up, making him fall forward in painful hilarity. His stomach hurt so bad…he wanted to stop laughing, but he just couldn’t stop. He was drunk with it. “Will you stop laughing and get me out of this!”

"Okay…okay…okay really…I gotta stop laughing…I gotta stop…phew.” He blew. “I gotta stop.” He was tired. “Hell, I need a nap now. That was better than sex.” He blew out again, wiping his eyes. “I know what…I’ll jump over the side and pull you out,” he suggested, trying to stand.

“Nooo!” she screamed in a panic.

“What!” he yelled back, startled.

“You can’t do that!” she squealed, “I told you, I’m naked!”

"Oh, yeah. Got your little backside out…don’tcha?”

“If it was a little backside, I wouldn’t be stuck!”

“Well, what do you suggest I do?”

“I don’t know,” she whined, “I can’t believe this is happening to me. Stupid bats! I hate bats!”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I owe 'em one.”

“Get—me—outta—here!”

“How? Darlin’…I didn’t wedge you in there. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know…what was that?” she started whining, then became alert as she heard a vehicle pull up in his driveway.

“I think that’s UPS. I’ve been waiting on a package,” he offered, looking through his sliding doors towards his front door.

“Go, go, go! Meet him. Don’t let him walk back here! Hurry!” she yelled, panicking.

“God, you’re bossy! Okay! I’ll be right back.” He left, chuckling some more.

Sylvia’s head dropped to her folded arms. Her stomach was getting sore. Her legs and toes were starting to tingle, growing numb, and she was sure she was going to be sick. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there. She was too tired. Uncomfortable. Cried out and downright drained. All of a sudden she heard the start up of a chainsaw. “Oh Jesus,” she muttered, with no other reaction or movement. He stepped back onto the deck, revving the saw. Slowly, she propped her head up on one hand to look up at him. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?” she asked softly.

“What’d you say? I can’t hear you, the chainsaw's too loud!” He was grinning and enjoying every moment of it. "I picked this baby out at the hardware store in Tomah. I said the first thing I'm gonna buy me when I get here is a chainsaw. Cutting down trees, splitting logs...man's work! Never thought I'd be using it for the first time like this...but wood's wood. An' I can't wait...thank you!" It was plain to see that she was not at all amused about this, nor did she share in his enthusiasm that she'd given him a good excuse to finally get a chance to play with his new toy. All she knew was that she’d get him back for this. She didn’t know how. Not now, she didn’t, but she would. As soon as her shame from this horrid morning was over, she would calculate some devious plan that would mete out the perfect revenge. She didn’t consider that she put herself in this situation. All she knew was that she would get him for enjoying this to the degree he was taking it.

“Better cover yourself up. Here, let me help you.” He stepped close, pulling the towel from her head. She hadn’t moved a muscle. She just lay there with her cheek cupped in her hand as her head towel was dropped over her upper body and head to shield it from the flying sawdust.

“I’ll have you out in a minute.”

“Bastard.”

She didn’t care that she was acting ungrateful. He was still chuckling. Laughing. He thought the noise from the chainsaw was drowning it out, but she heard ’em. Every snicker he made. She felt the board give to her right and still she didn’t move. Then next he cut it to the left of her. The relief of pressure as that board gave way, made her sigh. A small portion of the towel lifted in front of her face. He peeked in. “You okay? You’re free to climb on board now.” Her eyes rolled up to look at him. He grinned that infuriating grin. A deep sigh escaped her.

“Thank you,” she said finally, softly.

“Anytime.” He chewed his lip. “Need some help?” He chewed it again.

“You laugh at me again and I will pop you with that board,” she threatened.

He cleared his throat. “Now, see. What kind of appreciation is that? I’m trying to help you out.”

She smiled a sarcastic smile. “And I thank you. Now, will you please go inside so that I can pull myself up without further embarrassment? I think I’ve entertained you enough this morning.”