Traveler

Cassie took pleasure in my awkwardness. The first time I had to take the bandage and gauze off her chest, she had one of those beaming smiles. The bandages meant she couldn't wear a bra. With all the traveling and moving around we had done today, it needed changing because the wound had wept, causing a light reddish-kind-of-color to show.

My first fear was that she had busted the stitches. She saw my anxiety and that damn woman fed off of it.

"Look, I figure you're not gay, so you must have seen a pair of tits before. And anyway, once you've done this, you would have broken your duck. The rest is all downhill from here."

I would like to say I believed her. The redness of my face proved to her I didn't, and that smile just got bigger. With the old bandage in my hand, her tits were now free. She was most definitely a C-cup. Her breasts defied gravity, standing proud on her body. With every breath she took, my eyes watched them move and the blood heading for my face, changed direction.

Pulling my eyes away from those orbs would count amongst one of the toughest things I have ever done. Even Cassie stopped messing with my head when I was pulling the tape back on the gauze, so I could remove it. Sharp intakes of breath and sudden gasps were heard as her body stiffened while I removed the gauze. This showed me that the stitches had held.

With a sigh, more of relief than anything else, I cleaned up around the wound and redressed it. She asked if the bandages could stay off tonight. I don't think she planned to tease me; she just needed the freedom the bandages couldn't give her.

"OK, but first thing in the morning, they go back on. You have an appointment with my doctor at three in the afternoon. I don't want a ration of shit from him about me making things worse."

She made out like she was shocked. It didn't fool either of us.

"Wow, Mr. Robert Douglas of Illinois is a potty mouth. Well, I would have never believed that."

Ignoring her was my best option since I still had her other wounds to deal with. Twenty minutes later, I was pulling one of my old t-shirts on her and putting her to bed. We also decided that Bobby was my name. She smiled at that one. Cassie was enjoying herself way too much, at my expense.

This time, I made it to the door. "Oh, Bobby, I need the bathroom."

My mind was thinking oh-so-dark thoughts as I turned to look at her. The sweet angelic look didn't suit her, but she tried it anyway. Between us, we got her onto the toilet. Decency made me stand outside while she finished.

"Bobby, I'm right handed; hygiene... and all that."

No, way. Not a chance was I going to do what she said needed to be done. I did remind her that her left hand still worked. The bitch paused and said, "Oh yes, I forgot about that one."

It still took another ten minutes to get her out of the bathroom and back into bed. I left the door open a little while I worked. My ears picked up some noise, and made me pause. When I stood and leaned against the door to her room, I could hear her crying. When I looked into her room, she was asleep.

In those unguarded moments in our lives, our body needs its release. Cassie had lived her life amongst the water people. She knew the canals, rivers, and waterways as well as any trucker knew the highways. The families at every junction, the folks of the water authority, all these people were her friends.

Yet, with the fight and hospitalization of one of the brothers, the water people took sides. If Cassie had stayed within her comfort zone, who knows how long her life would have been, or the war that would have been created as family turned against family. The Mendez brothers would serve time for what they did to Cassie, and the fact it took three of them- and yet she still bested them- was deemed both an insult for the Mendez family, and a high honor amongst the water people.

Cassie knew her life was over if she ever set foot on the waterways ever again. The Mendez family would see to that. Honor would demand it, and the war that would follow could destroy the economy of the water people for years to come. The woman, asleep in that bed, had paid far too great a price for defending herself in a bar fight.

The loss of her boat was a warning, and probably the only warning she would ever get. My source from the waterways authority had e-mailed me and apologized for his behavior towards me. I understood; he lived amongst those people.

In his message, he warned me what would happen. Cassie Marshal was Traveler.

Her reputation amongst the water people was earned by generations of her family. Honor was everything to these people. Yes, she had beaten three men in a bar fight and was still standing when the police arrived; too many... The status of Traveler was at its peak. The thing with being at the top of any tree was that there was always someone just waiting to bring you down.

George Beckwith had mentioned in his e-mail that if I could keep Traveler away from the waterways, the Mendez family would leave her alone. There was a death sentence waiting for her, and anyone who took her side, if she ever came back. He admitted that there just weren't enough people to prevent it, or the near civil war that could follow.

*******

I was in the kitchen sorting out breakfast when I heard her call me. I didn't have the heart to tell her she looked like shit. I'm sure she would have said the same about me. Listening to her cry in her sleep half the night tore the heart out of me. That bar fight had cost her everything, and she knew it. She may have been the victor, but the spoils, even with three of their sons in jail, went to the Mendez family.

Once Cassie had found out about her boat, she knew that her life on the waterways were over. In a sense, the Traveler was dead. It was time for Cassie Marshal to live again. The look she gave me when I placed her breakfast in front of her was funny. I had cut everything up, as you would with a child.

"What? You did mention that you were right-handed. And since that's bandaged up, how were you going to cut it?"

I'm sure the temptation was there to put in a remark or two. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders and lifted her fork to eat.

"My boss knows about you, and that I'm taking a week or two off until you're fit enough to fend for yourself while I'm out chasing a story."

Her eyes seemed to harden. She halted a couple of times while she was eating, but didn't say anything until she had finished.

"Why?"

A one word question that covered so much, I needed to narrow the selection down a little.

"Why, what?"

"Why... everything? Why are you helping me? Why am I here living with you? Why?"

"You needed a place to stay. You wouldn't give the hospital the name of anyone they could contact to take care of you when you were well enough to be discharged."

My explanation was clearly not enough for her, so she tried another angle.

"OK, suppose I buy that. What's in it for you?"

How many times had I asked myself variations of that very question? I had to get involved because it looked like I was the only one willing to help her. The other thing I had noticed about Cassie was that she was a truth magnet. She could spot a lie, or even half-a-lie a block away. This was one of those truth moments; it had to be.

"I'm a reporter, Cassie; so many of my stories have been tragedies. This story will never get to the paper. It can't, because we both know why. But just once in a while, I want to see a happy ending. Somehow we have to make this a happy ending."

She watched, and I just stared back at her. I'm almost certain I expected another fight from her. It never happened.

"I'm eating your food and taking up space in your guest room. I'm paying rent."

This time I wasn't going to allow her to railroad me.

"Not a chance. Your boat is nothing more than scrap metal, and you left the hospital with nothing more than the clothes I brought in for you to wear."

Cassie rolled her eyes.

"The boat's insured, and haven't you heard of banks? Or do you still think we hide our money under our beds?"

This instant felt like a make-or-break moment. Cassie had pride. She wanted to pay her way, and if that was refused, even with the damage to her body, we both knew she would leave.

"Okay, a dollar a day- and you pay half the grocery bill."

"And what do I get for my dollar a day?"

"My company; a warm bed, your bandages changed daily, and when you get all whiney about it... You get a pat on the back and will be told to get over yourself."

There was warmth in her smile. She even pushed her plate across the table for me to take to the sink.

"Well when you put it like that, where do I sign up?"

*******

My doctor took one look at Cassie, and then looked real hard at me. Doc Hartmann and I go way back, but I'm almost sure that ethics wanted him to pick up a phone and call the police. Cassie got in first by telling him everything. I listened intently since some of the details were even new to me.

Doctor Hartman gave Cassie a complete check-up. He wanted me out of his office while he did. Twenty minutes later, the nurse came out first, still rubbing the tears from her eyes. Reception got a buzz five minutes later, and I was allowed back in.

"This is long-term, Bobby. The damage to this young lady, I can't even begin to list. Cassie told me she's staying with you?"

"Yes, she is doc. I'm the care person for her until she can fend for herself. After that, it's up to Cassie what she wants to do."

He looked more thoughtful when I said that. Having known the doc for so long, I should have picked up on it as well. Even Cassie was quiet on the way home. She would look out of any window she could as long as none of them were in my direction. It seemed she was waiting for us to sit down before she dropped the topic of us into the conversation.

She caught me halfway to the kitchen before uttering those words that nail you to a post when they come from a woman's lips.

"Bobby, we need to talk."

As I sat across from her and waited, my mind played out several scenarios before it settled on not saying anything and keeping calm.

"Bobby, are you sure you want to do this? Talking to the Doc made me realize that I'm heaping a heck of a lot of shit onto your life, and I'm not talking short-term here."

My first instinct was to answer her. I opted to just sit and listen instead.

"The Doc and I talked while you were outside. He made it obvious to me that the injuries I have won't go away tomorrow. Bobby, you're going to be feeding me and wiping my ass for weeks to come. I can't ask you to do that. Heck, I'm not even married to you; I'm just a stranger off the street."

I stayed silent for a while longer, forcing her to look directly at me before I spoke.

My next words almost hung me. "I don't have a choice."

Cassie looked like she was about to leap across the room and inflict bodily damage on me. I quickly raised my hands to try to appease her. It didn't look like it was working, so I opted for a more direct approach. I tried not to breathe while I talked, thus giving her an opening to interrupt me.

My story started back with Barry Mitchell. My boat builder friend, and his off-handed remark, subsequently delved into the life of a phantom only known as Traveler. I talked about the phone call I received and meeting him at his yard a week later.

Barry had a family to protect and a business to look after. The boat people and the folks who lived along the waterways were his business. But the story of Traveler stuck in his head, just as he knew it would mine. In effect, Barry handed me the phantom and the enigma that took two years of my life.

After all, how can a person in today's technological age remain hidden so well, yet be on personal terms with just about every law enforcement agency out there? No one I asked could describe what Traveler looked like, and yet those same people proudly stated that they were good friends of Traveler's.

Cassie calmed as she sat and listened to my tale. I had nothing to hide. I could even show her my notes to back up everything I was saying. It also allowed me time to pull air into my lungs, which I was grateful for.

When my own editor pulled me into the office and told me to bury the Traveler story since it was time consuming, and offered no story at the end of it, I had to finally agree with him. Then came the phone call that eventually had me sitting in the diner. Cassie smiled. The bitch stuck a knife into my pants, and she was smiling about it.

At least she had the decency to look a little sheepish when she noticed I still wasn't amused about the incident.

"In case you want all this in plain English Cassie, when I came to this story, it was just that- a story. You came into my life and I've now seen the real human being behind the tale. I'm sure I could toss your ass out of here now and you would be fine, you're a resourceful young lady, but I've seen the human side to this story now. And until it reaches the end, I'm in for the long haul."

Cassie watched. She waited and read me like a book. She knew I wasn't lying. Finally, with a slight nod of her head and an even longer pause this time, she spoke.

"The Doc says I have to talk to you. There is a lot going on in this body, Bobby... I ... He said... Ah hell, just get your damn clothes off."

I was way beyond confused, and headed for weirded-out, as quickly as my own imagination could take me there.

"Look Bobby, the Doc says I have to be honest with you, and to do that, I have to get naked to show you. I'm not going down that road alone."

If someone like Cassie couldn't come right out and say what she meant, then this had to be serious. I did try and ask her if she could just explain it to me; the look she gave me should have had me dead on the floor by now.

"I'm a woman, Bobby. I've seen naked men before, just as I've seen men with hard ones. You're not scaring me, Bobby, but I'm not getting naked in front of you until you are."

Cassie could still see the doubts in my eyes. Eventually she rolled her eyes and tried again.

"I understand you're worried, but we have to come at this from my angle. I'm not budging on this. You get your clothes off, and I will show you; until then, neither of us is moving from this point."

"Dammit, Cassie... Just tell me."

She vigorously shook her head.

"Nope, ain't happening. It will take too long and chances are, you still wouldn't totally understand at the end of it. I need you naked, Bobby- and then I will explain everything."

*******

Her eyes remained neutrual throughout. She had set the rules; we could keep going around in circles for hours but, on this, Cassie seemed to refuse to budge. I must admit that my own curiosity had been piqued. And so with a certain amount of fear and trepidation, I started to undress. She watched for a moment to see if it was a trick on my part, or whether or not I would back out.

Once Cassie was satisfied that it wasn't, and I would not, she matched me as best as her hands could in items of clothing. She stopped at her panties since she had refused to wear a bra after learning the bandages still had to keep being replaced. The pause was perhaps a couple of seconds. The tear that descended her cheek, and the sadness on her face, showed me that at this one moment, she was fighting herself.

Cassie stared down at her panties. The air that filled her lungs had a finality about it. Her thumbs went into her panties and, very carefully, she pulled them down.

The dark purple and brown skin came into view first. Her skin tone got darker the further she pulled down her panties. Her pubic hair came into view; a stark contrast against the backdrop of different colored bruises that surrounded her pubic bone and upper thighs.

Finally, she stood up straight and looked directly at me. The moistness in her eyes, and flush of her cheeks, told me she was holding herself together, but with not much more than sheer willpower.

"When Tony got his kick in, I knew if I went down I would never get up again. They can't ultrasound at the moment because they would need to press down. Even a quick glance told them I would double up if they tried. X-Rays show extensive bruising, but they can't decide on any permanent damage until the swelling goes down."

It felt like she was reading from a rehearsed speech. Her eyes remained focused on something, but it wasn't me.

"At the moment, I'm biting down on tissues in the bathroom when I pee. Bobby, soon I'm going to need to do more than pee. Doc Hartman has given me pain killers; he knows what's coming, Bobby. I have a high pain threshold, but there is still an outside chance I may pass out with the pain. If you're in this for the long haul, then you need to know this."

This time her eyes locked onto mine.

"It's decision-time, Bobby. What's going to come next goes beyond what you signed up for. Simple math will tell you that I'm going to be using the bathroom a lot; I can't do this on my own. I'm going to be so drained. I have no doubt you will need to carry me back to bed."

My eyes looked at a very naked Cassie, her hands kept to her sides. I'm almost sure she did that so I could clearly see the damage to her private parts. All I could do was shake my head in wonder at any man being capable of doing this, and also the inner strength of the woman that stood in front of me.

"I'm not going anywhere. Our priority is getting you better. Time will do that."

My eyes looked once again at her face. I wanted to emphasize my next statement.

"One day at a time, Cassie. If you need to cuss at me, then don't hold back. Just remember, I'm not your enemy and everything will be just fine."

Cassie never bothered putting her clothes back on; I saw no point either. Yes, I had a hot naked woman in my house, but just looking at the damage to her body made sure she never got to see an erection out of me that day- or for many more to come.

Our first test came later that evening. Now that she had forewarned me, I had been watching for signs. At first, she fidgeted. I could see the anxiety increase as she dreaded what her body was telling her. Finally, she admitted to me that she needed to go to the bathroom.

Even biting down on a wash cloth and with her arms wrapped around me, and with me holding onto her, my heart broke with every movement of her body. She cried, screamed when she felt she had to push, and held me tight as her body went into revolt. Her body told her it needed to go, just as it fought the pain as it did so.

By the time she had finished, she was a sweat-soaked tired wreck-of-a-woman; too exhausted and pain-wracked to do more then flop her body against mine. As I pulled the chewed on cloth from her mouth and into the sink, my head came up and kissed her cheek in some vain hope that she knew that she had done so well, and her body hadn't betrayed her.

Like her mind and soul, her body was doing the best it could with the injuries it had. My arms came up and held onto her; she stopped me. The words that left he lips were so weak. When my head came away from her shoulder, I looked at her in total shock. She tried to smile. The Cassie that I came to know tried so desperately to show me that she was still there.

When she saw me hesitate, her whispered words came to me once again. "I can't. I need you to clean me; that wiped me out. Dignity is something I've had to put to one side, and I'm hoping you can as well."

I don't think either of us had thought this far ahead, her eyes smiled the rest of her rested again the toilet as my tissued hand went between her thighs. I felt the heat being generated between her legs, she nodded slightly and tried so hard to smile before the tissue touched her body, that's when she went rigid and her fingers dug deep into my arm.