Original Post Date Wed, 26 Jun 2002 
                     Disclaimer

This is piece of fiction.  Any imagined resemblance to
people living or deceased is either the result of dementia
on the reader's part or that the reader is, in fact, a
character of this story.   It is assumed that readers of
this story have the permission of the state, mom, dad, and
pastor and are able to tell the difference between real and
make-believe.  Furthermore, the writer is fully aware that
he is bound for hell, but welcomes both praise or/and well
thought out, humourous insults on his writing skill.  Note:
he already knows he cannot spell 'warth shet'.

The events and descriptions of this story are the sole
property of Kenny N Gamera and should not be recorded,
reposted, or profited from in anyway without express
written permission of the person hiding behind that pen
name. Reposting and free archiving will be tolerated given
the writer's name and address remains attached.  Archiving
by Deja.Com and ASSTR/ASSM is assumed and encouraged.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera
turtlemeat69@hotmail.com

ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Gamera
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Gamera/Beggars_Can't_Be

                Beggars Can't Be... Part 16
          Return of the Slightly Chunky Roommate
                            by
                      Kenny N Gamera

I was between the lab and work with about forty-five
minutes more than I would need to get from one to the
other.  Naturally, this meant I would enjoy a double latte
at the Golden Cafe and 'enjoy' the latest piece of earth
shattering science in _Occasional_Papers_in_Isotope
_Paleobathymetry_(University_of_East_Angleia): a speedball
of sorts.  Fortunately, for that last smidgen of my sanity,
Liz was working.  Fortunately for Liz, I hadn't been in the
mood to make an ass of myself for quite a while.

   After I had gotten my coffee and used the bathroom
mirror to get my tie done up for work, I choose a comfy
chair in front of the big screen television (showing some
really dull stretch of the California coast) that faced
away from the counter. Situated, I began to enmesh myself
in the tangle of jargon I had brought to read.  I had just
finished the alleged sentences: "Taphonomic influences on
the fauna of many shale and shaley formations have been
grossly overestimated.  The authors of this paper hope..."
for what I thought was the sixth time, when I felt a tap on
my shoulder. I turned to look into the eyes of Kim.

   "Mind if I join you, Kenny."

   "It's a free country," I said with a slight shrug.

   She sat down in the chair next to the endtable next to
my chair.  She clasped her hands together between her knees
and stared at them.  I mostly stared at the little black
marks on my page.  We sat quietly for a long moment as the
waves beat quietly against the sand (the mute was on).

   "Jenny misses you."

   "So I heard."

   As the waves washed ashore, nothing the least unusual
happened with the black marks.

   "She cries over you at night."

   "So I heard."

   Time passed.  Kim just concentrated on her thumbs as if
waiting for some feature to become clear.  Counting my
breaths in an unorganized way, I continued to look at the
page in my hands with breaks to the screen.  The scene
shifted to some other nameless beach abandoned to the
possession of a handful of gulls.

   "Kenny," she turned away from her hands and looked at
me, "do you love her?"

   I closed my eyes to think, listening to my heart's
rhythm.

   "Yes," I paused for another thought.  "More than life
itself."

   "Why?"

   "Why do you?"  Another pause followed before I added,
"why does Sherry?"

   Kim broke into a half-smile and said with a forced
laugh, "she's like that, isn't she?"

   "Yes, she is."

   "She loves you."

   With wave crests boiling into a froth of white over
steel gray, surf crashed with some force into the near
khaki-coloured sand.  The darkness of the wet sand showed
the extent of its advance onto the land before the weight
of water backed into the advance of the next wave, which
blocked its return to the ocean.

   "She has a funny way of showing it."

   The gulls fled from the charging water but chased the
backwash to the sea.

   "Kenny, that isn't fair."

   I let my photocopy drop in my lap.  Having no clue as to
what to do with my hands, I reached for my coffee.

   "Life isn't always fair, Kim."

   It had cooled enough for me to take a long pull without
scalding my tongue into worthlessness.

   "Sherry cares for you, too."

   I sighed.

   "They are the most important people in my life, Kenny.
I respect them both very much."

   "And?"

   "Kenny, why do they like you?"

   "I don't know."  I drank more coffee in a big gulp.  "I
don't understand it myself; I sure as hell don't deserve
it."

   "They seem to think you do."

   "Maybe," I said staring into the pint glass holding my
coffee, "they just don't realize it yet."

   "I like you, too."

   "Wha?"  I stared at her with what I hoped was a good
first order approximation of a look as if I were slapped.

   "I told Jenny she could find herself a guy, because..."
She leaned her arms against her legs and brought her
forehead to her hands, resting it against her thumbs.
"Hell, I stole her from a man.  I figured she'd find a
jerk, get some dick, and come back to me.  Instead, she
found you."

   "Got some dick and went back to you."

   "Not completely, part of her is with you."

   "Part is with you."

   "Can you live with that?"

   "Yes."

   "You seem sure."

   "I am"

   We sat there for a long time after that.  The tape
stopped in the middle of some static and began to rewind.
I got up and called work on the payphone.  Bruce (thank
God) answered, and I told him that I wouldn't be in.  He
didn't ask why; he only wished me a good night.  I found
that Kim hadn't moved at all in the time that I had been
gone.

   I picked my paper off the floor and placed it next to my
coffee on the endtable.  Kim didn't react at all.  I sat
down and retrieved my coffee.  I took a drink before
starting to stare into the surface again.

   "You don't seem to be the type to hurt women."

   I shuddered.  "'Good boys don't hurt girls.'"

   She pulled her head away from her hands.  Her eyes went
straight to mine.  I locked my look into her gaze.

   "Sherry said I should ask you about a scar."

   If I had thought about it, I wouldn't have done it, but
I didn't think about it; I did it.

   I stood up and held my hand out for her to take it.  She
reached up, and we grasped each other.  I pulled her up.
Holding onto her hand, I lead her to the restrooms.  Again,
I didn't think; I just went into the Men's room bringing
Kim in behind me.

   Some guy was at he urinal.  His back was towards us.  He
paid no heed to either of us for a moment but did a classic
double take as he took notice of Kim, who was, for whatever
reason, blushing slightly.

   "Don't mind her," I said to the man, as I started to
undo my pants.  "She's a lesbian."

   Still, he rushed through his business and, as carefully
as I've ever seen anyone do it, zipped himself up without a
hint of penis.  He dashed to the door but had to squeeze
behind Kim to get out.  This caused him to blush, and Kim
to turn even redder. By the time he was out of the
restroom, I had gotten out of my pants and was lowering my
underwear.

   "Kenny, I've never done..." she sort of told the wall.

   "Of course, not," I said.  "You're a lesbian."

   "Kenny..."

   I turned to my side and lifted my shirt up to my hips.

   "Look."

   She turned her gaze from the wall and looked at my leg.
She must have forgotten herself and reached out to touch
the scar tissue.  She ran her fingers along the rough skin
on the side of my buttock.

   "Oh, my god.  What happened?"

   "I burnt the chicken."

   "What?"

   "I burnt the chicken.  I wasn't paying attention, and I
let a frying pan of chicken burn."

   "How did..."

   "She poured the grease out on my leg."

   "Who?"

   "Gina, my girlfriend.  She dumped the grease on me,
because I burnt the chicken.  Then she hit me with the
frying pan."  I swallowed and pointed to a spot high on my
thigh.  "Right about here.  Broke my leg."

   "She what?"

   "Well, it was cast iron."  I choose to continue to
misinterpret her look of confusion.  "The frying pan not my
leg."

   "Why didn't you stop her?"

   "'Good boys don't hurt girls,'" I answered with a sigh.

   "Dear god," She looked into my face.  My image in the
mirror looked as if I had swallowed something unpleasant.
"A woman did this to you?"

   "Among other things."

   "What happened?"

   "I spent a year or so getting skin grafts.  She got five
to ten for domestic assault.  I moved here and into my Aunt
Marie's old house and started..."

   "Excuse me."  We looked to the door.  Liz had poked her
head in.  Her eyes were tightly closed.  "I need to ask you
to..."

   I reached down for my pants.  "No excuse us.  I had to
show my friend an old scar."

   "I'll just step out, Kenny."  Se looked at Liz and
smiled a sheepish smile.  "I'm sorry about this."

   "Uh."

   I zipped my pants with a smile. Someone else had said
"uh" for a change.  I stepped out of the restroom, and Kim
stood waiting outside the door, looking like a vandal
outside the principal's office.

   "I think we've been thrown out."

   "Let me get my coffee."

   I went to my former chair and picked up my paper (I
tucked it under my arm) and luke warm latte.   I walked to
the counter.  Reaching over the cappuccino maker, I grabbed
a stryofoam cup to empty the glass into and a lid to cover
the cup with.  I also apologized to Liz about what I had
done.  She just shrugged, blushed, and mumbled something.

   I met Kimmy back at the door, and we stepped out into
the sum together.  I went over to my car and half sat, half
leaned against the front hood.  It was hot but not butt
burning hot.  Kimmy stopped in front of me and began to
stare at her feet.  I set my coffee down.  Crossing my
arms, I waited for Kimmy.

   "Kenny?" She paused, but I didn't fill it in.  "I can't
do anything with you."

   "Of course not, you're a lesbian. Besides, I don't want
to do anything with you."  She gave me a look.  "Kim, give
me a fucking break; why should I want to do anything with
you?  You're a lesbian."

   "I guess," she said with a weak voice, before continuing
in a stronger one, "Still, you're supposed to find me
attractive."

   "Yes, but you don't want me.  That's more important to
me."

   We, more or less, stood there for a moment

   "Kenny?"

   "Yes?"

   "Jenny is waiting at home.  Would you like to come over
for dinner."

   "What are you making?"  I added a little emphasis on the
'you.'

   "Tortellini and shrimp."

   This took me back a little.   I think she could see it
written all over my face.

   "I put them in the freezer.  They should still be good."

   "Oh."

   "Do you want to come over?"

   "Sure, why not?"

   "Thank you, Kenny."  She gave me a hug.  "Thank you very
much."

   We drove to their place separately.  I spent a good
portion of the trip trembling like a basket case and was,
therefore, glad to be alone in my car.  The trip was
otherwise without hazard or incident.  I arrived in front
of Jenny and Kim's apartment before, but not by much, Kim.
I parked on the curb and waited in the car.   I brought
myself to some composure as Kim pulled into the complex's
lot.  I met her at the outside door of their apartment, not
shaking noticeably at all.  She held the door for me after
unlocking and swinging it open.  She followed me inside.

   "Kenny, I'm going into the kitchen to start dinner.
Could you wait in the living room?"

   "Sure."

   Since I had some idea of where it was, I showed myself
the way and sat down on the couch.  I spent a minute trying
to think of something to keep myself occupied and not
thinking about what was going on.  I settled on snooping on
their CD collection, the nature of which I had little
chance to explore, for I heard a gasp behind me.

   I turned to face Jenny.  She wore a sundress with print
flowers.  It clung to her body here and there, giving hints
of the familiar shape beneath as it hung from the thin
straps over the smooth skin of her shoulders.  Her hair
framed her angelic face.

   I looked into her soft brown eyes, the colour of oak,
and began to cry.  She took me to the couch and held me
against her as I made like a baby.  The hurt flowed with
the tears and escaped with each sob.  She said nothing.
She only held my head tight against her chest and stroked
my head until the last of these several months of pain had
been exorcised from my body.

   With the last sniff, I held my face against her,
listening to the beating of her heart.  In the silence,
Jenny continued to stroke me as I snuggled deeper against
her, feeling the warm flesh above her neck line against the
tear damp skin of my cheek.

   "My poor Kenny," she whispered after a time.  "I am so,
so very sorry for what I did to you.  Please, can you
forgive me."

   Drained, I fell asleep.  I woke up shortly later, still
tight in her arms.  A memory waved its little hand and
called out to my consciousness.  I chuckled aloud but
softly at the remembrance.

   "What's so funny?"

   "Remember a few months ago at my place?  I just realized
that everything is reversed."

   "That's what love is about."  She bent her head to kiss
my forehead.  "We take care of each other."

   I swallowed and tried to get closer to her.

   "Jenny, I love you so much."

   "I love you too, Kenny."

   "Will you..."

   "Yes, Kenny.  I will."

   "You know that I not the stablest leg on the table."

   "I noticed."  She kissed my head.   "Doesn't matter."

   "We can move to my place.  I got it when my aunt died; I
own it free and clear."  I paused a second.  "Kim can have
her own room.  Next to mine.  It'll make things easy for
you."

   "Hush, time for that later, Kenny.  Right now, I just
want to hold you."

   I signed into her breast and looked up to her face.  She
smiled at me.  I pulled away and brought my face to hers
and kissed the woman I was going to marry.

                               NEXT

                Beggars Can't Be... Part 17
        The Rather Dull, Inaction Packed Conclusion
