Night at the Museum

This is part of my effort to complete Ahazura's flash story Brothers.

The original and my submission Brothers Redux will help provide context.

target=_blank''>Brothers

Brothers Redux

By all means, let's crack on. I hope you enjoy this.

Butch woke up in a good mood. He was hopeful that he and his wife Becky could find a way forward like his brother and his wife Tessa. They needed to talk.

But unlike her sister, Becky had not cut ties with her extramarital suitor. The illicit thrill had proven to be too seductive. She was hooked. The added fact her paramour was an up and coming artist made her weak in the knees.

Butch and Becky met up over coffee at the kitchen table. Butch cleared his throat and and spoke, "Good morning. You look nice. A little bed-head adds to your appeal."

"Thanks. I think." Becky replied.

"I mean it," Butch insisted, "My heart always beats a little stronger when I look at you."

There was no reply. After a moment's silence, Butch continued, "Jay and Tess are off to the lake. They seem to be getting along much better. We could do something like that."

"That would be nice," Becky said, "I've just been so busy at the gallery. It's not a good time."

"We have time for dinner out, and dancing. It's been a while since we've done that," Butch countered.

"I'd like that." Becky said. "Friday?"

"It's a date."

Becky made a note to call Rob later.

Robin Slaughter was working on his latest project when his phone chimed with an incoming text. It simply said, Let's go dancing on Fri. He replied, Nice. Becky returned, Details later.

Rob's latest effort was a ceramic figure; a woodland faerie. She was about two feet tall, seated on a slight mound, Her feet and knees were together, her bare legs displayed delicate ankles, shapely calves and tapered thighs. She wore a pair of shorts, leg openings rolled to her pubis. A halter completed her ensemble. Her hair was coiffed a la Marilyn Monroe. Her elbows rested on her knees as she cupped a nest of two baby birds with their beaks outstretched towards her face. She leaned in with pursed lips and appeared to be either trying to feed them or give them a kiss.

The overall gestalt was one of vibrant femininity and communion with nature. A true work of art.

He called Becky and said, "Please come to my studio. I have something I'd like you to see."

Becky arrived soon after. After inspecting the figure, Becky said, "She's so hot!" Her eyes were slightly glazed.

"Like you," Rob whispered. "I'd love to paint your portrait."

A short while later Rob stood with palette and brush in hand as Becky emerged from behind a screen wearing a light blue silk robe that reached her knees. it contrasted with her auburn hair. She sat on a low stool. Her face was flushed. Her eyes twinkled with excitement. Her mouth was slack, her visage a complete mask of lust.

As she raised her hands to brush her hair behind her ears, the robe fell open, revealing her complete nudity. Her blush extended to teardrop breasts and her gumdrop nipples were showstoppers. She slowly opened her knees and the draw of her sex was like a magnet to iron. There was obvious moisture at her cleft.

Rob's dick was so hard that a cat couldn't scratch it.

All thought of artistry was forgotten as brush and palette hit the floor and the pair rushed to couple. Moans, groans, panting, and shrieks filled the air as they rutted with abandon. Becky's arms alternately flailed and clutched at Rob's back and her feet were firmly planted on the floor as her hips bucked greedily to meet Rob's plunging thrusts.

His pistoning rod made sucking sounds in her sotted wetness as he withdrew. It made her hiss between her clemched teeth and growl from somewhere deep in her throat. Like an alley cat, pinned in a coupling, her ear firmly caught in between snarling teeth. She tensed and ached her back, lifting Rob clean off the floor. She quivered and moaned loudly and went limp.

As strength and passion finally waned, Becky realized her marriage to Butch was over.

Friday arrived. Butch was looking forward to his date and reconnecting with Becky. She still held him in sway. Like a flute tootling swami and a cobra. The question was: who was whom?

Becky took extra care getting ready. A form fitting silky black dress slit to mid-thigh hugged her curves, the open back and plunging front would conceal no brassiere, so she went without one. Black stiletto heels arched her dainty feet. The red polish on her toenails matched her fingernails precisely. Make-up immaculately applied. Not a hair out of place. She was a vision of Heaven on earth. Butch's pulse picked up the pace as he drank in her beauty.

"Holy guacamole. You could get the Pope to change out of his dress," Butch declared. "Saints preserve us!"

Becky smiled and said, "I'm ready. Shall we go?"

They had a nice dinner in an intimate setting. Wine, candlelight, soft music but no real meaningful conversation. Every time Butch tried, Becky would steer it away to more mundane subjects. Butch grew increasingly frustrated and more uneasy.

They finished their meal and drove to a popular local nightspot. The place was crowded, the music thumping. The mood was hypnotic. Butch immediately took Becky by the hand and moved onto the dance floor. A lively tune was on tap. Becky swiveled and swayed to the pulsing bass and soon drew considerable attention. After a few more songs Butch asked, "Would you like a drink?"

He bellied up to the bar and Butch ordered a couple vodka sodas. As they waited, a man approached and said, "I love the way your wife dances. Would you mind if I took a turn with her?"

Butch looked at Becky. She returned a neutral gaze. "It's all right with me if it is with her," Butch said.

The pair wandered back onto the floor and disappeared in the crowd. Ten minutes after their drinks arrived, the two had not yet returned. Ten minutes after that, Butch went looking for her. He scanned the club's dancing throng, then the occupied tables and booths. He finally made his way to the restrooms at the back. As he approached, he saw a woman enter the lady's room and almost immediately exit again. She looked perturbed. Butch got a sinking feeling in his gut. Forestalling a feeling of doom, he checked the men's room. Drawing a blank, he next opened the door to the women's room and stood in the doorway. Several angry looking women met his gaze.

"What do YOU want, creeper?" one asked.

"I'm missing a wife," Butch said.

The women all looked in the direction of a stall but said nothing. Butch haltingly approached and looked over the top of the door. There on her knees was Becky, humming on some dude's chota, oblivious to her surroundings.

Butch shook his head and pulled out his phone. He recorded several minutes of concupiscent coupling. Rob looked up at Butch and blinked rapidly. He had a wry smile on his lips. Becky remained unaware of his his presence.

"Stop recording that," one of the women said, "That's not legal."

Butch said, "Shut the fuck up! That's my wife. I'm recording this for our grandkids."

Butch turned to leave. Rob followed, cock swaying as he walked and when he put a hand on Butch's shoulder, Butch whirled and threw a straight right hand that started at his ankle, catching Rob between the eyes. He went down like he'd been poleaxed. The women shrieked and made haste for the door.

Butch turned and left the club. Once outside, he called Jayson. It went to voicemail.

At the prompt, Butch said, "I need help, brother. Tomorrow.

He disconnected and went home.

Butch's phone chimed with a new text the next morning. It was from Jayson.

'What's up?'

'Becky's cheating'

His phone rang. "Holy Hell," Jay said "Are you sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes," Butch said flatly.

"Fuck me running!" Jay exclaimed. "You want to come over?"

"I do," said Butch.

"We'll be here. Whenever you're ready," said Jay.

Butch collected his jacket and keys and went to leave. As he opened the front door, there stood Becky. She looked like she had been shot out of a cannon. Her dress was stained and wrinkled, her lipstick smeared. Wisps of her auburn hair escaped their confines, looking like spun cotton candy. One of her shoes was missing. The other she held in one hand. She smelled like she had been in a sex rodeo.

"Good morning, Fellatia," said he. "You're lookin' good in the neighborhood. How was your night on Gobbler's Knob?"

Becky looked at him uncertainly through bloodshot eyes. "Can we talk?"

"What would you like to say?" asked Butch.

"It's not what it looked like," Becky said.

"What do YOU think it looked like?" Butch asked calmly. "To me it looked like you were sucking a dick! And it wasn't mine!" he shouted, spittle flying.

Becky flinched. He had never talked like that to her before.

"I'm not sure what came over me,"she said.

"Make an effort and give it some serious thought, would you? Right now I think we're finished. I left some worms in the fridge for your breakfast. Eat them and die." With that Butch pushed past her.

Butch sat at the kitchen table with his brother and Tessa. It felt like they were holding a wake. All three stared into space. Stunned and stupefied.

"Are you sure?" Tessa asked.

"With my own eyes," said Butch. "Still, I had a hard time believing it myself. I do not know this woman. I won't have her. She was just getting home as I was leaving. You should have seen her, she looked like she had been shot at and missed, shit at and hit."

Jay chuckled in spite of himself, but Tessa was not amused. "I should go talk to her," she said. "Something's off." On that note, she got up to leave.

After Tessa had gone, Jay asked, "Did you know the guy?"

"Never saw him before last night." Butch said. "Becky said she'd been helping someone prepare for an exhibit. She never mentioned any names."

"I would be for finding out," said Jay. "You have to talk to her sooner or later."

"I know," Butch agreed. "But not today. I just want to slap the slut out of her."

Rob lay in bed. He had a thumping head. Still, he had to smirk. He really tuned that little darlin' up last night, he thought. He had left no hole unboned. He wasn't particularly fond of her, but she was very useful in boosting his career. He was on the rise, and besides, she was a great piece of trim. It was only three weeks until his gallery showing. He could poke a porker for that long.

Tessa's mind was in overdrive as she drove to see her twin sister. Becky had been getting increasingly bold as time went on. First flirting, then dancing, kissing, groping and now giving a blowjob, all in rapid succession. What Butch described happening last night was just plain reckless. She was out of control.

Tessa knocked on Butch and Becky's front door. She found the door latch unlocked, the interior quiet as a tomb. A quick inspection found Becky sleeping naked in the master bedroom. She had showered, but not well. She still smelled of alcohol and something foul.

Tessa shook her sister and not too gently. Becky opened her eyes and looked around, completely bewildered for a moment. She pulled up a sheet to cover her nudity. "Where am I," she asked.

"You're at home in your bed," Tessa said. She looked into her sister's eyes. A vacant stare looked back. "Do you recall what happened last night?"

"It's fuzzy," Becky said. "I'm sore. It feels like my mouth had a party and everyone came."

"Fuck's sake, sister. Butch said you were sucking dick. In a public restroom," Tessa said. "What the hell?"

"I know," Becky said. "I was there. It was like I was a bystander. Every nerve in my body was on end, and on fire. I'll never forget it." She had a thousand-yard stare.

"Butch is a wreck. He's gutted." Tessa said, "What did he do to deserve this?" Tessa asked. "And Sara?"

It was like a switch was flipped. Becky looked at her sister with an imploring gaze, but said nothing.

"You need another shower," Tessa said. "Try using soap."

Butch sported a forlorn look. "I have a hole in my soul," he said. "My heart is pumping cold water."

"You want to go to Tiny's?" Jay asked. "A cold brew can't hurt. Can it?"

Tiny was anything but. 6'6" 275 lbs, and the owner of his namesake's watering hole.

"Two drafts,"said Jay. "The finest Heinie, please,Tiny."

He came back with two frosted mugs. They looked like teacups in his hands. "You look miserable," he said, looking at Butch, "like somebody just ran over your dog."

"That sums it up pretty well," Butch said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Suit yourself,"

A slim pair of hands set four empty mugs on the bar next to him. Butch looked in their owner's direction and time stood still. He raised his eyebrows without a conscious thought and stared.

"Four more please, Tiny," she said.

"The scene was not lost on Tiny or Jay. "Meet my new waitress, Petra Lange," Tiny said. "She's here on a work visa from Germany.

She was absolutely stunning. Blue eyed and buxom. Lustrous blonde hair in a long French braid. A real-life St. Paulie Girl. She smelled like coconut oil.

"Nice to meet you," Butch squeaked after clearing his throat.

"Smooth," Jay muttered.

Petra showed an enigmatic smile. She hefted the refills and returned to a table. As she was setting the mugs down, one patron gently fondled her buttocks. Without hesitation or sign of emotion, she backhanded the offender onto the floor, much to his cohorts' amusement.

"Goddamn," Jay said. "She's really something."

Butch was in need of clean clothes. He had been living at his brother's place and it was past time to do laundry. He knew Becky would be at work; a good time to pop over to his house with minimal aggravation.

He had a backpack almost full of socks, t-shirts and underwear when he heard a car pull up in the driveway. There was no escape so he walked to the door. Sure enough, here came Becky. And Rob was with her.

Becky spotted him and said, "Butch! What are you doing here?"

"Leaving,"Butch said.

"Don't leave on my account," Rob said with a smirk.

"One more word out of you, Blinky, and I'll show you your soul." Butch said idly.

Rob grabbed his crotch and flagged his noodle but stayed silent.

"I can show you the other end of that if you want." Butch said.

"Please don't," said Becky. "Butch, I really need to talk with you," she added.

"Soon," Butch replied without taking his eyes off Rob. "Really soon."

Butch straddled his Fat Boy, fired it up and headed out.

"What an asshole," Rob said. "What did you see in him?" Becky said not a word.

Butch walked into Jay's house. Tessa took one look at his face and asked, "What happened?"

"I went to pickup some clothes at the house and Becky showed up. With her lover boy."

"Fuck oh dear," Tessa said. "What did you do?"

"I left before I killed them both," Butch said. "It made me physically ill," he added.

"There's something seriously wrong with her," Tessa said. "Please don't hurt her.

"I won't,". Butch said. "My guts are in a knot. I think I'll go for a beer."

"Jay should be home soon," she said "Or I'll just tell him where you went."

"No time like the present," he said, and lit out for Tiny's.

Tessa called her sister, "Goddamnit, Becca, What's wrong with you?"

I know, I know, I didn't think he'd be here."

"Butch deserves so much better. You make me ashamed," Tessa said.

Butch was on his second beer when Jay walked in and sat down next to him. "What's the hubbub, Bub?" Jay asked.

"Big bubbles, no troubles," replied Butch, "I need a plan."

"Tessa told me what happened," Jay said. "What do you have in mind?"

"I need to pay those two shit-stains my regards. I promised Tess I wouldn't hurt Becca." Butch said, "But dick lick is another story. I'm still thinking badger."

"Let's give that some thought," Jay said.

Unbeknownst to the brothers, an old cowboy in a beat up sweat-stained Stetson had been eavesdropping. He wore a long sleeved denim shirt with pearl snaps open to his navel, faded jeans, and scuffed up Tony Lama boots. He was eating a purple pickled egg, chasing it with a beer.

"Why would you fellas need a badger?" he mumbled into his mustache.

"We're digging a basement," Butch said. "We heard they do good work. You spying on us old-timer?"

"Alan Tosier is my name," he mumbled little louder than a whisper. It sounded like he said 'shhh' a lot.

"Butch and Jay Thompson," the brothers both said.

"I believe I might have a badger on my place. Digging holes everywhere. I'm afraid one of my horses is going to break a leg.

"We could take care of that for you. Be happy to in fact. Where is your place?" Butch asked.

"I've got 80 acres out along Mill Rd. Can't miss it. There's an old International Harvester up on blocks in the front yard." Said Alan.

"Sounds deluxe," said Butch. "Give us a number to reach you and we'll be in touch."

There was another eavesdropper. Petra had been listening too. "I'd like to come,"she said, "I've never seen a badger."

"I have to get a trap first," said Butch. "I'm on my bike."

"My car is at home. Give me a ride to my place and I'll drive," Petra said.

"Trap's at the cabin," said Jay. "I'll see you later, I guess."

Two hours later, Petra and Butch pulled up to the cabin. "Nice place," Petra said, "Secluded. Is this where the bodies are buried?" she asked with a smile. She stopped in her tracks as Skittles strolled by. "Is that a badger?" She asked.

"That's security," Butch offered. "Try not to distract him. He's on the job."

"He's yours?"

"Not exactly. We let him hang around and he helps us out sometimes," Butch said, "He's a veteran."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Not usually. Keep an eye on his tail. If it stands straight up, he's on alert. If he keeps his back to you, he's nervous and if he stamps his feet, he's scared or pissed. You're on the clock, so

haul ass. He's accurate to about 10 feet or so and he can dot your eyes. He's usually a sweetheart. He likes Skittles."

"Good to know," Petra said.

"Would you like a beer?" asked Butch.

"I'd prefer tea," she said, "Can I fix you a cup? I have my own blend."

"Sure," he said.

Petra returned a few moments later. "It's brewing. It takes a while. Would you like to smoke a bowl while we wait?" she asked.

"OK. What's the occasion?" Butch asked.

"You've been looking a little stressed," Petra said.

They sat on the porch and sparked up. They finished the bowl and fell silent. Butch finally spoke, "What brought you to America, if that's not too nosy to ask?"

"I came home early one afternoon and found my boyfriend in bed with my best friend. I wanted to leave them both far behind." she said.

"I can relate," said Butch.

"Tea's probably ready," Petra said. She came back with two steaming mugs, handed one to Butch and he took a sip. He almost spit it out.

"Damn!" Butch declared, "This tastes like somebody's ass dipped their ass in it.

Flavor isn't what we're looking for," she smiled

"What then?" he asked.

"A few clues," Petra said.

"What's in it?" Butch wanted to know.

"Mescaline. Peyote," was her reply.

"Isn't this risky?" Butch asked.

"Not physically," Petra said, "Slightly increased heart rate and temperature maybe. It's 30-40 mg, a heroic dose. "Relax, I've done this before. I'll be right here with you," she said.

She reached out and took his hand. "There's no reason to fear,"she said softly. "Drink up."

They sat in silence. After about 45 minutes Butch felt a warmth in his core. He heard a slight slight buzz in a corner of his mind. "This feels nice," thought Butch. He suddenly barfed.

"Well that was unexpected," he said.