Light Touch
By Chris Owen
"Feathers."
Jake stared at Elias for a long moment and wondered exactly
what kind of weird-ass twilight zone he'd fallen into. He'd
just been doing his job, feeding the horses and trying not to
step in too much shit, and then suddenly Elias was blathering
on about feathers. The story had a girl in it, too, but Jake
did his best to ignore that part.
Elias grinned
and nodded happily. "Feathers, man. And this sweet stuff,
tasted like honey. Felt like talcum powder, though. Purely optional,
but trust me on the feathers."
Jake shook
his head and dumped grain, wondering if he could escape to the
loft for a bale of hay or something. "I don't need to hear
this story," he said as Elias grabbed a rake and started
mucking out one of the stalls.
"You
not only need to hear it, but you fucking owe me, Taggart. I
heard a hell of a lot more than just stories when you and Tor
were bunking across the hall from me."
Sadly, that
was true enough, and Jake stifled a sigh. "Why this story?"
he complained. "I don't want to hear about you getting
all weird with a bunch of feathers and some girl you picked
up."
"And
you think I have it easy, working with you?" Elias snorted,
dragging soiled straw out of the stall.
"We
don't tell you about it," Jake said, refusing to look at
Elias as he checked to see who needed fresh water. "And
we're not across the hall anymore."
"Oh,
right. And you and Tor are all vanilla and respectable. Christ,
you'd think I was telling you about whips and shit instead of
a harmless feather."
Jake grimaced
and shoved Lug to the side a little. "Props ain't our thing,"
he said evenly. It was a lie, but he was reasonably sure he
could get away with it. Plus, liking a little bit of restraint
once in a while wasn't that out there. It certainly wasn't feathers.
Elias laughed.
It wasn't a nice, friendly laugh that indicated a sociable amusement.
Jake felt his skin start to itch as Elias enjoyed a full-body,
completely hysterical laugh at his expense.
"What?"
Jake demanded, glaring at him.
"Oh,
come on," Elias said between a gasp and a wheeze. "There’re
new steel rings in this very barn where there ain't no logical
reason for pulleys. You and Tor take turns having rope burns
on your wrists! Don't you dare try to snow me with that pristine
bullshit. By the way, you do know that there's such a thing
as padded cuffs, right? You can even order them online if you
can't bring yourself to go into a store."
Jake had
absolutely no answer for that, so he said the only thing he
could. "So, she liked the feathers, huh?"
"Not
just her," Elias said with a leer. "I almost went
through the fucking roof."
Jake stared
at him. "Do I need to listen to this part?" he asked
weakly.
"Yes."
Elias started to rake again. "You do."
So Jake
watered horses and flaked a bale of hay and did his best to
tune Elias out. He wasn't exactly sure why Elias had picked
him instead of Tor to torture, so he merely tried to endure
it; it wasn't exactly unearned, after all. It wasn't until later,
when he was taking a fast shower before supper, that he realized
Elias had picked him because Tor would have listened and taken
notes. Honestly, he should be glad it was him and not Tor who
got all the details.
It gave
Jake ammunition. |
