Love the Author's Way

They were kissing again. He slipped his hand inside. She moaned. Hims went outside

“What’s the matter Hims?” asked Uncle Otoktaf.

“They’re kissing again,” he said and screwed up his face and rolled his big brown eyes. “They are always doing that.”

“Oh,” Otoktaf said, “Maybe I should come back later then. Do you think?”

“Yeah,” he said in a low bored voice, “When they start doing that it can take a longer time than waiting for supper.”

“We have some venison on the stove!” Otoktaf said, “Would that cheer you up?”

Hims didn’t react.

“No,” his uncle said, “Come on over anyway. There’s always something going on at our cabin.”

“Yeah?” he asked a little more cheerfully. “Can we play checkers again?”

“I don’t see why not,” Otoktaf said, rubbing the top of his curly head of hair.

Amoakom had her in bed by them not missing Hims and they undressed each other never giving him a thought. But when it was over with and they were enjoying the afterglow together Famatle suddenly realized there was a reason it went so far right there in the middle of the afternoon.

“My God! Hims!” Famatle shrieked, “ He must have sneaked out again! Those, whatever you call them, Sasquatches or Big Foot will eat him one of these times!” as she pulled on her dress and threw a lace shawl over her shoulders and ran outside. But a moment later she was back inside. “Oh my-my God what have you done this time?”

“Nothing,” Author told her, for her ears only, “He’s at his uncles’.”

“Oh, God, good,” she said, out of wind. “He’s over to his uncles.”

“How do you know?” Amoakom asked as he put on his boots and in a moment Famatle could hear him knocking on his brothers’ door. He was back not more than a minute later while Famatle paced the floor. When he came in he went straight for her, took her in his arms and began kissing her in little pecks on her mouth and cheeks. But she pushed him away.

“Is he over there?” she said, forgetting all about his advances.

He gave up.

“Yeah, he’s over there,” Amoakom said, “Playing checkers with Otoktaf. He’s been there the whole time.”

Famatle let out her breath and had to take another immediately then she took it slower catching her breath completely.

“Why did you doubt him?” Amoakom asked, “And anyway why did you say that to him. You don’t trust him even after what you told me about this morning!”

“Knowing it really isn’t under our control worries me,” Famatle said, “It makes me feel awkward when I think about it. He’s writing all the time.”

“That’s not so,” the Author said to her, “I can but what would be the point?”

“My God!” Famatle said, “Did he even write what we did?”

“Give me credit,” the Author said to her, “Sometimes I do. But not always. Every move?”

“Thank God,” Famatle said and had to catch her breath again.

“For writing that we made love!” Amoakom shouted. “You think he’s a pervert now! You actually think he writes the entire scene from beginning to end like some porn writer!!”

“No!” Famatle shouted and turned back to him. “Not now.”

“You did though!” Amoakom shouted again. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“Okay, okay!” Famatle shouted, “I did but he told me he didn’t!”

Amoakom said, “Oh, my God!” and moaned as he put his hands on the top of his head and rubbed his own curly black hair only to bring his fingers down over his face.

“Does he ever do it?” Famatle asked.

“Sometimes like when you were trying to get pregnant,” the Author said, “You were so tired. I just reached out to the two of you and helped it go just perfect and you conceived.”

This time even Amoakom heard it.

Famatle was shocked and sat down across from Amoakom.

“Well,” Amoakom sighed, “You have to admit he is a hell of a writer! That must have been that one night! He is pretty damned good at what he does when he does it.”

“I am sorry, Famatle,” the Author said, “I didn’t mean to ever tell you. I just wanted what the two of you wanted and you were so tired there was no chance of anything that way and my way there was no chance it wouldn’t work out. Forgive me?”

Meanwhile because the Author was speaking to Famatle Amoakom was  telling her it didn’t matter good or bad or indifferent it was done now and they had Hims.

Famatle seemed to hear both.

“I know it doesn’t matter,” Famatle said and thought, ‘I forgive you my Author. I would have never made it any night. I wanted a baby so bad I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I was a nervous wreck. Of course I forgive you.’

The Author had been afraid he had lost her for good this time. They are a team. Famatle had to understand that and he loved her so much. Her and Amoakom.

The door burst open. It was Hims and he was shouting, “Daddy! Daddy! I won all seven. Seven games one after another!”

Famatle took her little boy miracle from the Author to her stomach and ran her loving hand through his hair petting him like a pet.

‘Is that what you were doing all that time?’ Famatle asked in the beauty of the moment in her mind and tears came down.

“Why are you crying, Mama?” Hims asked. “I won. I really did. I won all seven!”

“I-I’m just so happy,” Famatle managed as the tears flowed. ‘I tried so hard to do it on my own. That’s the way I was back then. That woman is dead,’ she verbalized her thoughts in her mind to the Author who could not have been more pleased and he let her feel his spirit hugging her as Amoakom came to her and put his arms around her and his hand on Hims’ head and was so happy with her that he almost cried openly but settled for the tears in his mind.

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[John Carver]

This is a companion story with 1.https://www.writerscafe.org/writing/YouAreGod71117th/2781487/ and 2.https://www.writerscafe.org/writing/YouAreGod71117th/2781570/