AUTHOR'S NOTE:

It's Thanksgiving holiday week in the USA, and any day is a good day for all of us to count our blessings, no matter where we are. I'm posting a day early due to travel plans (family get-together is a big deal this time of year). Three chapters going on Wattpad today, exceeding the 2,000-word protocol by just a little bit, sort of a holiday bonus. Another bonus, no more Author's Notes interrupting between chapters today. You're welcome. Happy reading!

~o~~o~~o~

When Randall's van pulled up in front of Nichols' Bed & Breakfast, Randall stepped out and found Byrd blocking his way.

"Forget it, Buddy," Byrd said. "I got nothin' against ya personally, and I owe ya for not lettin' me drown, but I can't let ya go in there."

"Just back off," said Randall with a sigh. "Please. I don't want trouble with you or anybody else, especially on a nice Sunday afternoon. I just want to get cleaned up and changed. Even you must feel that way once every decade or so."

Randall tried to step past the human blockade, but Byrd sidestepped to again bar the way. Punches flew, and a second later they were rolling in the dirt, kicking, punching, biting, scratching, and choking like hyenas over a juicy dead wildebeest.

Nichols' front door slammed, and Jimmy Nichols ran to separate the two men. He slipped between them and held them at arm's length on opposite sides of himself.

"Here, now!" Jimmy shouted. "Not in my yard, you two!" Then he looked at the two and realized one of the men was a stranger to him. "Who are you?" he asked Randall. "What's this about?"

Byrd was quick to answer, "He's been looking for Lou all over town, Jimmy. He's the one with, you know, the fancy tattoo."

Jimmy looked at Byrd. "You seen it?"

Randall broke in, "Nobody's seen it, and nobody's going to! How do you people even know about that?"

Jimmy Nichols removed his restraining hands from the two men's chests and stepped back to stand beside Byrd and face Randall. Nichols and Byrd formed a wall between Randall and the house. Randall was suddenly suspicious.

"No." Randall shook his head as a grin formed on his dirty face. "Don't tell me. She's here, isn't she. This is where she's been all along."

"Who's here?" said Nichols, all innocence.

"Oh, get serious. Lou. Lou's here."

"Lou O'Malley?"

"Yes! Oh my gosh, I can't believe it. She's right here!" He tried to walk around the two-man wall toward the house, but they blocked him again.

"No, she ain't," said Nichols.

"Oh, no, right," Randall agreed. "She's in the field, taking pictures, of course. But the light's no good in the middle of the afternoon; she'll be back. I'll wait."

Nichols and Randall stood eye-to-eye, one of them tough and protective, the other tough and determined. Byrd sized up both sides: it appeared nobody would be backing down.

Nichols spoke without taking his eyes from Randall's. "Byrd, why'n't you show our Buddy here the tattoo Lou gave you last year, while I go make a phone call."

"Sure thing, Jimmy." Byrd stepped in front of Randall and began removing his leather jacket.

Jimmy Nichols went inside the house. Byrd removed his tank top, flexed his muscles threateningly. Then he turned to show Randall his broad, muscular back: It was covered with a fabulously opulent, fully spread, multi-colored peacock. A true work of art.

Meanwhile, Lou and the Japanese tourists had returned from their mountain bike ride up to Delicate Arch and back. They were attempting to squash the semi-conscious bulk of Moon into Lou's miniature rental car.

Lou let out a sigh indicative of lost hope. "Maybe we could tie him on the roof, like a mattress."

Still pushing the pale, round, motorcyclist, a Japanese tourist said encouragingly, "My cousin is sumo wrestler. We do this a lot."

Lou rejoined the group and continued pushing and shoving, while Moon helped them by moaning and sweating.

"We could tie him across the hood, like a dead elk," Lou said.

"Errk? What is errk?"

"Not errk, elk. It's a kind of deer."

Then a cheer rose from the group around the car as Moon was finally wedged inside and the door actually closed. The windows would not. Parts of Moon would just have to dangle outside.

"Oh, thank you!" said Lou, bowing repeatedly to her new friends. "Thank you all so much! Arigato! I promise to use nothing but Fuji film from now on!"

When Lou was seated in the car, one of the tourists bowed and said, "We will send his motorcycle back on the truck. You can pick up at bicycle shop later."

"At the bike shop rater, light-I mean, later, right! Thanks! Arigato! Thanks, again! Have a nice vacation! 'Bye!"

Lou drove away among waves, bows, and Japanese farewells. Moon moaned and attempted a valiant wave, then collapsed, hitting his head on the car's dome light.

"I'm sorry, but you have only yourself to blame," Lou said. "You'll feel better after we get you back to Jimmy's and rehydrate you."

~o~~o~~o~

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