Ridiculust Ch. 08

Note to Readers: A small amount of "adult activities" in this chapter, but now we start to see magical activities...

Chapter 8

After one last look at his sleeping sweethearts, Roger grabbed his clothes, walked to the bathroom, and wiped himself with a damp washcloth so that he wouldn't smell of aroused Debbie. In all the times they'd gone at it when they were teenagers, he'd never made her squirt like that, and he idly wondered what else had changed over the years. He then got dressed, padded downstairs and checked out the fridge. Given that it had been about a week since it had been restocked, he was not surprised to see that the milk in the bag in the pitcher had curdled, and the extra unused bag also looked suspicious.

"Damn, I can't make pancakes," he muttered, closing the door. "There must be a corner store somewhere so I can get some milk." He found some paper and a pen and wrote a note, taking care to make it legible instead of his usual chicken-scratch handwriting, explaining where he was going, and left it on the kitchen counter. He was able to make a quick peanut butter and jam sandwich with some as yet non-moldy bread and took an apple from the fridge and a drink of water from the faucet before heading out, closing the front door quietly behind him. He had also grabbed his hat that had been put on his backpack by the back door off the kitchen, clipped on the sunglasses that used magnets to keep them in place, and had his hiking boots, his only footwear at the moment.

It was still a marvelous day and he basked in the warmth of the sun as he walked briskly back on the path that he and Sarah had taken, vaguely remembering that there was a store on the main street. Unlike earlier, there was scarcely a person outside, and when he checked his watch he realized that it was 12:30 and everyone was likely inside having lunch. "What else would they be doing now?" he spoke out loud to himself as he traveled the streets, whose pedestrian activity only started to pick up after he'd gotten to Main Street. The variety store was a block south on his side of the street, just as he remembered, which he found mildly surprising. Pushing the door open caused a bell to jangle, a sound that unexpectedly recalled ancient memories from when he was a child, running to the corner store to get candy with dimes and quarters. A bored-looking middle-aged South Asian woman was behind the counter, perched on a stool and reading a book that was printed in a language he couldn't identify. Her hair was long and black, liberally streaked with gray, and she had a pleasant round face with bright brown eyes that seemed to size him up in an instant. She was wearing a brightly-patterned blouse and skirt that were draped over her plump figure.

"Hello, sir, how can I help you?" she asked in an unexpectedly soprano voice.

"Good afternoon," Roger replied with a smile. "I came for a bag of milk. Is it back there?" He indicated the back of the store where there was a refrigerator. She nodded and was about to return to her book when she did a double-take and looked at him sharply.

"You are one of the people in the videos taken in the park last night," she said bluntly.

"Is there anyone who hasn't seen those videos?" Roger complained, rolling his eyes. "Yes, guilty as charged," he sighed. "There was lots of magic in the air last night. Did you experience any of it?" he added innocently. He was sure he could see a reddening of her face despite the dark brown skin as she looked away, and he smirked and started walking towards the back of the store. He stopped suddenly as he got to the end of the counter when he heard a "Wurf". He looked down and saw a medium-sized, medium haired black and white dog resting on a white dog bed. His knowledge of dog breeds was limited, but he recognized it as a Border Collie. It looked old, and the cataracts in its eyes were clearly visible. "Is your dog friendly?" he asked the woman, not wanting to risk a bad encounter.

"He loves people," she replied. "His name is Marsala and he is 12 years old," she said fondly. "He is old and doesn't have the energy that he used to have, but he always comes with us to the store." Roger knelt and extended his right hand for the dog to sniff. He soon found the sweet spot behind the ears that needed scratching and Marsala leaned into it with surprising strength. "He likes you."

"The Magic Plague seems to have given me an affinity for animals," he replied. "Dogs, cats, raccoons, foxes, you name it," he continued, scratching under the dog's chin. "It's a shame about the cataracts." A pun flitted through his mind, and suddenly his left hand was glowing, mostly turquoise, with stripes of green and yellow. Both Marsala and the woman were looking at him intently. "All cataracts are best as waterfalls," he said, which was rather lame, but all he could think of. A small bolt of energy shot from the middle and index fingers of his hand into the dog's eyes. Marsala blinked reflexively, whuffed, and shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, the cataracts were gone.

"It has given you more than that!" she replied, overjoyed. The door at the end of the counter opened inwards, and she yanked it open and moved to the dog, forcing Roger to jump back to avoid a collision. Marsala had jumped up and was licking the woman's face and wagging his tail happily. Roger noted how stiff the dog's rear legs looked. Unable to control himself or the power that was suddenly in his hand again, he backed away and muttered,

"That looks like something for the Joint Chiefs of Staff." This time a cone of light shot from his left hand and enveloped the entire rear half of the dog for about five seconds before winking out. Marsala barked happily and made a quick dash to the front door and back again, while the storekeeper stood up with a huge smile that lit up the place. Roger also made a quick dash, but to the back of the store, where he grabbed a bag of 2% milk. On his way back to the counter he snagged a bag of quick-cooking oatmeal and another of raisins and a bottle of applesauce, which he intended to have for breakfast tomorrow morning, "Provided that I live that long," he thought to himself as the glow faded. "Here, let me buy these and vamoose before I cause any more trouble for you."

"No trouble at all, sir! Thank you, thank you!" she replied. "Are you sure you aren't a saint?" She was so happy that he wondered if she was going to float to the ceiling. He couldn't help but feel his mood pick up a few points just by looking at them. Roger noted to himself that the thanks and joy didn't come with a discount on the prices, which cost him a bit less than 15 bucks, the change from which went into his right front pocket.

"Nobody who knows me would call me a saint," he replied with a grin as the items were put in a paper bag. "I'm a pretty naughty boy," he added with a wink. "Have a great day."

"I will! Please come again!" Roger hastily exited the store and looked around, trying to regain his bearings. Despite being a bit dazed from the unexpected energy expenditure, he remembered the way he had come and started the ten-minute trek back to Sarah's house, devouring the apple that he'd put in his pocket after leaving it. Just before the turn onto her street, he saw a fat brown rabbit sitting on someone's lawn looking sadly at a carefully fenced-off garden, so he tossed his apple core at it. The furball jumped away at first, but then investigated and began nibbling on it as he continued on. There were no sounds of activity when he quietly re-entered the house, locking the door behind him. After removing his boots, hat, and sunglasses, he left the shopping bag on the floor and silently walked up the stairs to check on the ladies. They were still asleep, but seemed to be stirring a bit, so he returned to the main level and took his bag into the kitchen.

As he ransacked the kitchen looking for the required ingredients, he started to hear voices and movement upstairs, followed by water running in the bathroom. Flour, sugar, baking powder, a little salt and some cinnamon were blended together in a bowl, to which he added two eggs, melted butter, and some of the milk. The secret ingredient was a half cup of chocolate chips that went in once everything else had been well-blended. Two large fry pans had been preheating on the stove as he was mixing the batter, and each received four dollops of it. It was a recipe that he'd perfected over hundreds of weekend lunches for his troop of brats and it never failed. Within 15 minutes he had produced 16 pancakes, piled 5 on a plate, with the last cut into thirds, just as Sarah and Debbie came downstairs.

"Perfect timing, ladies," he said, plunking the plates on the kitchen table with a flourish. He added a bottle of syrup he'd found in a cabinet, a bottle of jam from the fridge, and some apple sauce. He even pulled out the chairs for them to sit in, before seating himself. Sarah sat at the end of the table nearest the door, Debbie sat at the other end, and Roger occupied the middle, facing the window.

"My goodness, this is a treat," said Sarah, sniffing the pancakes and only just not drooling.

"Oh Goddess, they taste as good as they smell," moaned Debbie through a mouthful. He noticed that she'd found a bra and put it on. It took surprisingly little time for the pancakes to disappear into the hungry trio, by which time another round of coffee had been produced by the coffee maker.

"You are totally spoiling us!" Sarah accused him contentedly.

"I wanted you to know that I am more than just a pretty face," Roger replied with an impish grin. "I wanted to celebrate the beginning of our relationship. Here's to us, not three couples, but one triple." He raised his mug and all three clinked them together and drank.

"It's almost like he's trying to get us back into bed," mused Debbie.

"Or to keep himself out of it," Sarah added. His innocent expression was almost a classic, and they all snickered. "Where did you go to get the milk? The stuff in the fridge must have been bad."

"I remembered the corner store down a block on Main St," he replied, so I had a nice stroll there and back while you had your naps." The two women looked at each other.

"You were out in the wild? All by yourself?" Debbie asked with mock concern. "What did you do?" Roger rolled his eyes and sighed over-dramatically.

"I also bought some raisins, apple sauce and oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow. I will be staying here overnight?" he added with only a little irony. "I also chatted a bit with the lady there, met her dog, gave him a good scratch, paid for my stuff of course, and came right home."

"And what did you do that you aren't telling us?" Sarah asked with her best Student Inquisition voice and stare that made both of them jump and cower a bit.

"How - how many students did you terrorize with THAT look?" Debbie quavered.

"Many. And they deserved it," she replied calmly. "Confess, buster!"

"Weelll, I may have cured the dog's cataracts and arthritis in his back legs," Roger grudgingly admitted over a nervous swig of coffee. "But it was an accident. I saw the cataracts in his eyes, thought of a pun, and the power was suddenly there and zapped them away."

"Of all the people to have accidentally outed yourself to, Mrs. Kumar was not the best of choices," said Sarah, relaxing The Stare to the relief of Roger and Debbie. "If she isn't the biggest gossip in town, she's in the top five."

"Am I going to become a wanted man?" Roger asked. "I could get busted for practicing veterinary medicine without a license, if nothing else."

"I'm sure you'll be fine for this time," said Debbie. "Few people take what Mrs. Kumar says all that seriously, but you are going to have to control those damned puns of yours."

"Don't be so smug," said Roger smugly. "Maybe I'm a wild card, but you two are even more so."

"I know about Sarah being a wild card in bed," smirked Debbie, as Sarah turned a bit pink, "but you are the one who's been causing trouble in the community."

"I'm beginning to get a sense of what sort of trouble I cause," he replied evenly, trying to punctuate his point with a sip of coffee, only to find the mug empty. His expression made the others giggle and he plunked the mug on the table a bit harder than necessary. "But look at it this way. You two are probably at least as powerful as I am, but so far we don't know how, or when, your powers will manifest themselves."

"And if our powers are us are linked, or if we can tap into each others' power as well as our own, we are essentially three loose cannons wandering around looking for trouble," Sarah said thoughtfully.

"But we still have to live our lives like normal people," Debbie concluded. "For instance, we need to think about what to do this afternoon, and what to have for dinner tonight, what the sleeping arrangements will be, and so on."

"I can do the dishes," Roger offered, standing up. "The longest journey begins with a single step." With Roger washing, Debbie drying, and Sarah putting them away, it didn't take long to finish. Then they stood staring at each other. "It's a perfect night for a barbecue," Roger offered. "Burgers, pork chops, chicken, or steak?"

"You didn't mention sausages," Debbie remarked innocently.

"At our age, all that salt and fat isn't good for us," replied Roger, equally innocently.

"Why not go for burgers, then?" said Sarah. "I've got a tried and true recipe, as Debbie knows. Don't drool, Debbie," she chided.

"But now we'll have to go into the world and get the stuff," said Roger. "I will be on my best behavior," he added, batting his eyelashes. The others snickered. He stifled a yawn. "No time like the present," he added, turning and starting the walk to the front door. The others looked at each other.

"I think someone needs a nap," said Debbie sweetly as they caught up to him.

"But you two already had naps," he replied, stifling another yawn with difficulty.

"We mean you, bub," said Sarah as they once again herded him up the stairs. "Our beloved Roger is wilting right before our eyes."

"Am not!" he protested weakly as he was pushed into the bedroom where they had so recently made love. He was efficiently de-shirted and de-shortsed, but allowed to keep his underwear and socks, his glasses were removed and put on a side table, and he was gently pushed into the bed and tucked in.

"I love you, Roger," said Debbie, giving him the same gentle kiss on the lips he'd given her.

"I love you Roger," said Sarah, giving him another. He blinked at them myopically, feeling the energy draining out as fatigue overwhelmed him.

"I love you Sarah, and you Debbie," he mumbled as his eyes closed. The two women watched him relax, roll over onto his left side, and konk out. They looked at each other, eyes shining, and saw that they were glowing brightly.

"I love you, Sarah," said Debbie, holding her tight.

"I love you, Debbie," she replied, kissing her passionately. Reluctantly disentangling, Sarah squinted and said "Good Goddess, we're so bright it hurts to look!"

"I wonder if this happened to Roger when he put us to bed?" Debbie asked. "Maybe that's why he got so tired."

"Knowing him, he probably made light of it," Sarah replied. There was a bright flash as their colours blasted out of the room through the walls. They stood blinking at each other.

"Oh, shit, what did you do?" Debbie asked, looking worried as they hastily vacated the room. "I hope that we didn't just zap the neighbours with something."

"I hope not. That would be embarrassing. Maybe we should go to the grocery store before we do something else." They gathered their purses, locked the back door, then went out and locked the front door. "We should be able to get back before he wakes up. Goddess help us if he decides to wander out in the wild again." Debbie's house was the next one to the north of Sarah's, and her car was parked on her driveway, while Sarah's was in her garage, so they trotted across the lawn and opened the doors.

"Richard, how can you be hard AGAIN?" came an incredulous female voice. It sounded like it was coming from the open upstairs window of Debbie's neighbour's house. "We fucked each others' brains out an hour ago! We totally destroyed each other last night! You can't have any cum left in you after the loads you blew into me!" They looked at each other and snickered, making no effort to get into the car.

"I don't know how, Anna!" a moderately deep male voice responded. "There was another flash of light and about a minute later I was hard as a rock! Feel that!" There was a pause. "Hey, you are sopping wet! You want this rock-hard cock in you, don't you?"

"I need that rock-hard cock in me," was her growled reply. "Get over here and service me. Now!" The noises that followed left little to their imaginations, and they got into the car and closed the doors. Debbie quickly started it and backed it out onto the street, pointing it north.

"Another flash of light?" asked Sarah. "I think I know what Roger did, that naughty man."

"And we just compounded the problem. Our poor neighbours aren't going to be up to much for a while," Debbie giggled. "We really have to tone it down."

"Do you think we gave them a double dose? Or are we as strong as Roger?"

"I don't want to know," Debbie replied as she turned north on Main St. "Let's just not do it again and everyone will be fine. Nobody ever died from too much sex." The remaining ten minutes of the trip was spent in thoughtful silence. The destination was a large privately owned grocery store named Marchand's, located on the northern outskirts of town. The downtown had a boutique bakery and a butcher shop, but most of the grocery shopping for the town and outlying areas was done at this store, which made a point of selling as much locally-grown produce as it could stock. It was set well back from the road with an intervening parking lot that was large enough to never quite be full, even on the busiest of days. It being Sunday, this was a busy day and it took a few minutes of hunting before they were able to snag a surprisingly good spot near the entrance.

"Lucky us!" said Sarah as they got out. She leaned into the back seat and grabbed one of the cloth shopping bags that everyone had kept in their cars since the ban on plastic bags a few years ago. As she was withdrawing, Debbie got a good view down the top of her T-shirt.

"Hubba, hubba!" she leered. Sarah stuck her tongue out at her and they snickered. "I hope that Roger was suitably appreciative of your figure," she commented as they made their way to the store's main entrance that was in the middle of the building.

"The way he ogled me this morning, and last night, was enough to light my fire." She got the Cheshire Cat smile that Debbie knew so well. Lost in lustful memories, she'd stopped paying attention to where she was walking, and collided with Debbie who had stopped suddenly as they were about to enter the store. "What are you doing?" Debbie was looking around with a confused expression.

"I swear that I heard someone say 'Help me'," she replied. "I think it came from over there." She pointed to their right, and backed away from the automatically-opened sliding doors to let a Chinese couple with a laden shopping cart get out. All that was visible was a lone tree near the corner of the building in the grassy area between the drive at the side of the building and the sidewalk of the side street. The southerly breeze that had started in the morning had freshened, and as another gust blew, she said "There it is again." She moved towards the perceived source of the plea at a jog, forcing Sarah, even with her longer legs, to hustle in order to keep up. They reached the end of the walkway, crossed the access drive, and reached the tree, puffing from the exertion.