Timestitch

If you haven't read Part A, you might not even notice this is a actually science fiction.

CHAPTER 3

1:17 PM, Sunday, August 26th, 1986, somewhere along U.S. Rte. 6 in rural Pennsylvania

"We're screwed Holly," Janice said as she turned the wipers up from intermittent to steady-slow on the relatively new but seriously abused Dodge Omni. She stole a quick look at her friend in the shotgun seat.

Holly had one grandmother who was Korean, another who was German and two grandfathers who had been very persuasive African American soldiers stationed overseas. It gave her almond shaped eyes and walnut colored skin. The blonde dye job in need of serious root maintenance cut short in an Annie Lennox bob was her own contrivance. The nineteen year old had her tiny bare feet propped up on the dashboard and the free PA road map they'd picked up at the border spread out across her knees.

"Not yet we're not." Holly looked up from the map. The skirt of her bib overall dress was scrunched down so far that Holly could see her friend was actually wearing panties—for once. "What was that last town?"

"Some weird Indian name, started with a 'W' I think."

"There's a dozen 'weird Indian names' on this map, half of them start with a 'W."'

"Sorry. Maybe we should have stayed on the interstate."

"Shit-heel knows we're heading west, you want him to catch us?"

"You had to leave him a note."

"I told him we were going to Vegas. We're not going to Vegas."

"You couldn't have written Miami?"

"He wouldn't have believed Miami. Not after the big fight last night. Remember? I kinda-sorta shot off my mouth."

The Shit-heel in question was Holly's ex-boyfriend David—an obsessive psychopath if ever there was one. They were fleeing him and their New Jersey hometown with all their worldly goods packed into the beat up Dodge. The gas tank was below a quarter, they had no food and maybe fifteen dollars between them not counting any loose change in the seat cushions. To avoid pursuit they'd gotten of Interstate Eighty, traveled northwest through the Poconos and gotten onto U.S. Six. It had been a pleasant drive through hill and dale but hell on their gas mileage. Then the rain had started.

A passing truck sprayed water on the windshield, briefly turning it into a mirror. Janice saw her own broad pale face with its myriad of freckles and wispy red hair in unruly curls from the damp. She thought my eyes are a pretty green and my teeth are straight, thanks to an expensive orthodontist, not genetics. And I am not fat! Just big boned.

With the crackle of abused paper Holly tossed the map onto the dash and said "stop at the next diner. I have a plan... no two."

"Plan A is?" Janice asked.

"We sit down at the counter, order coffee and ask a matronly waitress if she knows if anyone is hiring. We give her our sob story. Maybe we can pull an Alice, hop tables and sleep in the car until we get enough cash to move on."

"And Plan B?"

"Same as before but, if no jobs are available, we pick up some middle aged guy, give him a couple of B-J's and sleep on his couch."

"I vote plan A. Plan B sounds too risky. I don't mind sucking cock but we might catch a disease or end up buried in the guy's basement."

Actually Janice did mind. Her less than half dozen or so backseat attempts at oral sex had not been good experiences. But in the 1980's, girls of their ilk didn't admit to being less than a worldly super sluts when the conversation among friends turned to sex. We're getting to be worse poseurs then the boys, Janice thought.

"That's why we pick a middle aged guy who hasn't had sex in like forever. No sex, no disease. And we'll watch each others back."

"Ever heard of herpes? Or that new thing they're talking about?" The rain grew more intense. Janice turned the wipers up to fast. They had just crested another hill with a rock cut to their right and a scary drop off to their left. "I feel like we're trapped in 'The Bear Went Over the Mountain.' Do these fucking hills ever end?"

"I think they call them the Endless Mountains."

"Fuck."

"Not lately."

Janice couldn't help but giggle. They started exchanging lewd trash talk when the car emitted a sudden thump, a whoosh, a rhythmic tapping and a giant cloud of steam from under the hood. The sickly sweet smell of glycol antifreeze filled the air.

Janice pulled off to the right. Despite it being the high side, the shoulder on this side was narrow and accompanied by a drainage ditch. Janice swerved to the left to stay out of the ditch and into the oncoming lane. A semi coming the other way blared at then as Janice aimed for a scenic overlook on the road.

But then the Omni's engine quit and Janice lost both power steering and breaks.

Holly screamed "holy shit, we're gonna die!"

"Not yet we're not" Janice said as she jerked on the emergency break and horsed the steering wheel over to hit the low stone wall of the overlook at an angle. With the sickening screech of metal on stone, the car ground to a halt. Without further thought, both women bailed out the passenger side of the car.

"Ouch ouch ouch!" Holly, still barefoot, danced around on the gravel in the pouring rain.

Janice clutched her belly and bent double laughing.

"What's so fucking funny?" Holly stamped a foot, which set her to jumping about again.

"You are..." Janice gasped out. "This is... we are!"

Holly limped over and put an arm around Janice. "Yeah girlfriend, we are."

Janice realized she was standing in a puddle. Water was soaking her black sneakers and her socks. "Better than crying..."

"Who would notice in this?"

"He might." Janice gestured with her chin toward the mud spattered Ford pickup pulling into the overlook.

A man in bluejeans and an army jacket hopped out. He was tall and wide shouldered with close cropped dark hair that reminded Janice of Holly's father, who was a warrant office in the army. The stranger's features were even except for a nose that had been broken some time in the past. His skin was slightly darker that Holly's and very smooth. He could be anywhere from twenty-five to forty to Janice's eye. His eyes were, oddly, gray—almost luminously so. His lug soled work boots crunched the gravel as he approached. "Are you ladies all right?"

"Looks like Plan B to me," Holly muttered in Janice's ear.

"He doesn't look sex starved to me," Janice muttered back.

Both women straightened. Holly said "we seem to be in need of a rescue good sir."

The man smiled. His teeth were even and almost as bright as his eyes. "What assails thee fair maidens?"

"Radiator leak," Janice said.

The man inspected the front of the car. "Too much steam, probably a burst hose."

He inspected further. "The body damage looks bad but the car is probably drivable. You don't even need a new headlight. Just the running ones."

He gestured at the hood. "May I?"

Janice shrugged.

The man tried to open the hood but it was warped and resisted until he kicked a protruding corner with the heal of his boot. He bent over and waved his hand to disperse the steam. "Yep, radiator hose came loose. Hit the fan and probably made quite a racket. Easy fix."

"We can't..." Janice started.

"Don't worry about it, I probably have a spare clamp and some old hose lying around my place. Why don't you both hop in my truck and we'll go look?" He smiled again then turned and walked back to his truck.

"Omigosh! Will you look at those buns?" Holly whispered.

Janice felt her shoulders start to relax. She had to agree with her friend, the man had a great ass. She was beginning to like Plan B.

Holly started forward but Janice grabbed the back of her dress. "We need to get our valuables, a change of clothes and your shoes."

Janice opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to stuff some clothes into a plastic bag.

Holly leaned into the front seat, grabbed her purse and her ridiculous cork soled platform sandals and scooted for the truck. "Shotgun!"

Janice sighed, gathered up their meager jewelry collection and then went to the front seat to get her keys and her favorite bootleg cassette tape from the player. Not having three hands, she stuffed the tape into the front of her blouse until it slipped securely into her bra. The hard plastic bumped her nipple, which made Janice notice it was hard too. She wickedly wondered, if she pushed it in further, would her nipple fit in the tiny hole and what that might feel like.

"Come on Janice!" Holly yelled.

Janice locked the car and walked over to the pickup where Holly was still standing in the rain. The truck looked rather sporty under all the mud with a glossy black paint job and a red and silver racing stripe. The interior was also customized with bucket seats instead of the usual bench seats, like the one Janice's brother drove.

"Get in!" Holly said. "You're not sitting on my lap!"

Janice leaned over and muttered in her friend's ear "this is starting to feel like the opening scene of a slasher flick."

Holly muttered back "more like one of those letters in the skin magazines Shit-heel kept under the bed."

The engine of the big Ford revved. "Ladies?"

Janice put her burdens on the floor of the cab and climbed in. Holly tossed in her shoe and climbed in on top of Janice. "Close the door."

Janice jerked it closed. The glove compartment popped open. Janice saw blinking lights, digital readouts and what looked like a tiny TV showing a road map.

Taylor's hand whipped out and slammed the glove compartment closed. "Damn thing is always doing that."

He sat up straight and smiled. He offered his hand.

"Now that we're all in out of the rain, my name is Taylor Diaz."

Holly shook it with mock formality. "I'm Holly and this is Janice."

Janice had to settle for an awkward smile and a wave of her hand.

"Thank goodness" Taylor said.

"What?" both women asked together.

"I was afraid you would say your names were Bambi and Thumper." He smiled at them.

"Huh?" Holly asked.

His eyes glanced down and then quickly back up. He winked. "This was starting to feel like one of those letters in a magazine."

"What magazines?" Holly asked deadpan.

Since her friend was sitting crossways on her lap with her back to the side window and one bare foot up on the center hump of the truck, Janice realized Taylor could not help but see up Holly's skirt whenever he looked their way. Janice's best friend was incorrigible.

"Trite and formulaic letters about unlikely random sexual encounters that can be read in male oriented magazines," Taylor said. He put the truck in gear and did a wrenching u-turn onto the highway. "No imagination! Always the same, letter after letter... You know they're all written by fat wannabe romance writers in dingy apartments with too many cats don't you? I think we can do better."

Holly looked at Janice. Janice looked back at her friend.

"I'm not stupid and I have very good hearing." Taylor turned his head and looked down at Holly's crotch letting his eyes linger too long, raised his eyes and smiled broadly at the both of them.

Janice asked "Um... shouldn't you be watching the road?"

But he was already turning his head back to the front. "You're the practical one Janice?"

"Mostly," and the fat one she added silently.

"I know that tone." Holly said. "You're not fat!"

"She's right you know. You move like an athlete. Field hockey? Soccer?"

"Goalie in both," Janice admitted. "Lettered"

"I knew a general once who said 'show me a goalie or a catcher and I'll show you a leader.'"

"I'm way out of shape," Janice protested.

"So get back in shape." He said it like it was an easy thing.

"Easy for you to say mister buns of steel." Janice could not believe the words came out of her own mouth.

Taylor laughed. "We are going to have so much fun."

Holly put a foot in Taylor's lap. "Now that the ice is broken, how do we work this?"

Taylor removed Holly's foot. "Not while I'm driving dear."

Holly grinned at Janice. "Hear that? He called me 'dear.'"

Taylor's face was surprisingly serious as he said "I don't do casual anonymous sex. I only fuck people I know and like. Unless I'm a horrible judge of character, I think I really might like the both of you."

Janice was surprised how comfortable she felt with this conversation. She was hardly blushing at all. "I noticed you said 'people....'"

Taylor flushed slightly. "Um... I just didn't want to sound sexist."

Right... Mister perfect has his own secrets. Janice looked at Taylor's strong hands on the wheel and imagined them grasping another man's throbbing hard cock. She shivered in wicked delight. Bad girl.

"Here we are," Taylor said.

The pickup lurched off the road onto a dirt track that climbed steeply toward an A-frame cabin. With the sound of skidding gravel they pulled to a stop in front. The tall glass front was screened by gauzy curtains only on the ground floor. The lights were on.

Nice place Janice thought. Will we now be met by a Mrs. Diaz?

"Is Mrs. Diaz home?" Holly asked.

Damn, do any words even take a moment to turn out the lights on the way out of her brain?

"No Mrs. Diaz or any current fashionable equivalent." He was smiling but his gaze was far away and sad. "There's just me."

Holly said "and now us!"

Janet opened the passenger door and tried her best do dump her friend into the muddy gravel of the drive. It looked like it had once been covered with a layer of fine white pea sized stones but had been neglected for several years and was now weed grown and muddy. Holly grabbed the door frame like a reluctant parachutist. Holly said in a trite little girl voice, "Mister Diaz sir, I think those rocks will hurt my bare footsies."

"Put on your shoes," Janice said.

"She'd just turn an ankle in those damned things." Taylor jumped out his side and ran around the front of the truck. He picked up Holly in his arms and carried her to the redwood stairs of the cabin's porch.

Janice leaned over as far as she could and pulled the driver's door shut. His keys were dangling from the steering column. She grabbed those and stuffed them in her bra opposite the cassette tape. Metal. Rough. Ruff. While she was in the cab alone, she took another peak in the glove box. Yep, that was some kind of TV but it had no knobs or buttons she could see. It was attached to a long curly cord. The screen made a bloop sound when Janice touched it and the picture changed to a flashing blue question mark. She withdrew her hand and slammed the glove box shut.

She jumped out grabbed all their baggage, including Holly's shoes. She considered tossing those down the hill and onto the highway. Instead she just dumped everything on the top step. Holly seized the cigar box with all their junk jewelry and rummaged in it until she found the only non junk there—Janice's silver and turquoise bracelet. Holly snapped it around her right ankle and put the adorned leg up on banister. The rain made her smooth brown skin look even silkier. She wiggled her toes. "Shiny!"

Taylor shook his head and grinned. Janice just shook her head.

"Well, aren't you going to invite us in?" Janice asked.

Taylor patted the pockets of his jacket. He looked over at his truck.

Janice pulled his keys out of her bra and jingled them. "Looking for these, mister tall, dark and forgetful?"

When she placed the keys in Taylor's hand, it was the first time they touched. Her fingers lingered on his. When she started to withdraw them, he clasped and pulled her up the stairs. Janice went willingly, her Keds squelching on the boards, ruining the moment.

Taylor sat on a bench on the porch and started unlacing his work boots. "First rule of the house, no muddy shoes inside."

Janice sat down beside him. Holly climbed up on the bench and sat on the porch railing.

Of course the redwood seat was wet and soaked through Janice's corduroy jumper into her panty bottom. They were each already rain drenched, what did a little more matter? As she bent over and tried to untie the slick wet laces of her high tops, Janice said "first implies others."

"Just two more. Since this little minx will probably be stark naked thirty seconds after I unlock the door, no dirty butts on the furniture."

"Check Captain," Holly gave a mock salute. "Only clean butts on the furniture!"

Janice's best friend stood up on the bench, unsnapped the clasps to her bib suspenders, whipped her tattered sweatshirt off over her head even before the dress had fallen to the ground at her feet and was presenting her backside to Taylor with her panties pulled down. "Butt ready for inspection Captain!"

"Did I say thirty seconds?" Taylor asked in wonder. "When was the last time you washed that funky thing soldier?"

Janice was craning her head over the porch rail. Fortunately, the concave slope of the hill and the curve of the road, plus some handy trees made it unlikely any travelers on the road would catch more than a glimpse of Holly's naked ass. In fact, she thought, if they confined their nudity to the porch deck itself, they could likely start a nice menage a trois right here. The thought warmed Janice's belly. Did she dare make a move?

She dared.

Janice simultaneously crossed her leg and put her hand on Taylor's thigh. "Could you help me with these laces?"

Two things became apparent. First, her sneakers stank like only wet sneakers could, and second, Taylor dressed his manhood down his right pants leg. She felt the great spongy thing under her hand. Wow.

From somewhere Taylor produced a sharp little knife and sliced the length of one web of shoelace, reached and grabbed Janice's other foot, jerked it up and sliced the other. Janice's shoes fell off her feet. With a click the knife folded up in one big hand and disappeared from sight in a jacket pocket.

Still clutching spongy penile goodness Janice said "not what I had in mind."

Taylor leaned close to her and said "I know what you had in mind."

"Would you like to cut the rest of my clothing off?" Janice asked huskily.

One of Holly's bare legs, the one with the Turquoise bracelet, slid down over Taylor's shoulder. "Are we finally going to get this orgy started?"

"As much as I'd like to start our fun little menage a trois right here right now, out here on my front porch where all my neighbors can see, we need to get inside, get cleaned up, eat and finally sit down and talk."

"Talk!" Holly yelled. "Enough talking! I'm naked! Haven't you noticed?"

"Oh, I noticed," Taylor said. Suddenly he was standing on the porch like a movie poster hero with the naked Holly over his shoulder. Janice considered getting down on her knees and clutching his legs to complete the tableaux. She could press her nose into this thigh. The right one.

"No talk, action! Jackson!" Holly kicked her legs.

Janice said "Holly, it's okay, when we talk, we'll talk dirty."

Taylor's gaze caught Janice. He reached a hand to her. She stood as he pulled her to his chest with his free arm. She tilted back her head to match his downward gaze. Her bare toes curled on the rough wood planks. His full lips nipped at her eyebrow, then her cheek and finally at her own lower lip. The world closed in on Janice until there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on hers, her thumping heart and a strange buzzing noise...

The buzz resolved into a tiny voice. "Hey lovebirds! Get a room! Or a cabin maybe? Please? This ain't as comfortable as you think."

"Way to crush a moment Holly!" Janice said, pulling away. Moment's over. Decision made.

"Okay! Okay!" Taylor laughed and kissed the nearest cheek of Holly's butt. "In we go."

Taylor walked to the door in stocking feet and slipped a key into the lock.

Janice gathered up their things and followed inside. When is it my turn to be carried around naked? But then Holly didn't get to kiss him yet. For once I think I got the better part.