Everett in the Hammock

"Everett I don't want it. I want you. I'm giving up the bounty. ..." That's what she wanted to tell him. But how? Her heart and her guile were at odds, but the odds of this turning out well, it was obvious, were stacked against her. Since they had been on the lamb for over three months now, she had grown used to his closeness. His special kind of wisdom and his sense of humor. True, she always had the gun, and that's what counted, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. They were friends. She didn't need to pressure him to do anything. Sometimes she would even wake, startled to find a pressure on her covers, thinking some previous quarry had tracked her down -- but no, it was just Everett, waiting there with a tray of breakfast. He was such a dear, simple man, in some ways. This morning though he was absent. In fact, where was he?

"Everett?" He wasn't in his usual spot, near the radiator. It was so cute how he huddled on the floor like that for warmth. The way he talked to those plants though was perplexing, and perhaps one of the few negative aspects of his character. While all men are a little crazy, those overtly so are not the best partners. Oh, who was she fooling? Husbands. No! What was she thinking? Married? She was too young for that! She could have any man she wanted and here she is, falling all over this geek who converses with folliage. On the other hand, changing her name would throw the feds off some...

"Everett? Where on earth are you?" She hoped he was alright. It was a small abandoned warehouse, and the only ways off the top floor were climbing, jumping, or the elevator, and she... oh shit, the elevator! Running, she checked her gun and was just about to push the button when she saw a note on the doors to the elevator. It read:

PLANTS NEEDED SUN. WENT UP TO ROOF. BE BACK SOON.

Holy shit. She would never underestimate a man with rudamentary wiring knowledge ever again. Obviously, shooting all the buttons had not deterred him. He was so innovative that way... no! She had to catch him. He was worth money, her livelihood. He was her only ticket out of this burnt-out husk of a town. Crossing two likely wires -- since he had left them hanging out, rather conspicuously -- she got up to the roof. Sure enough, there he was, sunning himself in a hammock while the plants did whatever plants do. Catharsis or photoelectrolosis or something.

Smiling, her upright forearm held the gun skyward as she approached the beautiful man. He looked so nice there, lying in the sun, a man out in nature yet still in the city. What was coming over her? This wasn't like her. Still, she desired to ... oh, no, it was silly. But then, who would know? Quietly, she approached the hammock, her leather clad body shining in the sun. Knowing that he was a deep sleeper, Melinda dared to dare herself, succumbing to her desire. First sitting on the edge, then turn, one leg, then the other. She was light enough, the ropes barely swayed in the Detroit breeze. His skin pressed against her concealing suit, but he felt nice all the same. The prescence of a man, the nearness of two beings -- that intimacy for which youth longs and age pines. But they were not so young, and not nearly so old. Just as that moment, Everett woke from his dream in which he had been sleeping on a threshing floor.

"What... Is something the matter? What change is this?" She smiled at him and sighed, laughing to herself, yet never taking her eyes off of him. Everett didn't move. He didn't know what to do.

"Allow me to share your hammock, Everett?" Her eyes half welled, which he didn't notice at first. Then, he saw her face, flushed with emotion and her eyes burgeoning with hope. She smiled at the recognition in his eyes.

"All right. You can stay. Don't worry, though. I won't let you fall. Sharing a hammock can be dangerous sometimes." He nervously giggled and moved over a little.

"I know. I thought about that. Thank you." She closed the gap between them and smiled, then closed her eyes and rested in bliss. So there they lay, side by side, just watching the planes, birds and clouds blown by the wind. Another day came and went in Detroit.