her.”
Sarah looked around the small cabin. “Is this your house?”
“No. Its a friend of mine in the militia. Its his house.”
“A boyfriend?”
Rita smiled. “No. A good friend. Like you.”
The two women smoked a joint, drank a bottle of stout and were soon feeling no pain. They talked and laughed like women do. Like friends do. Rita wore her new moccasins over her small bare feet. They fit like they were made for her. She loved the feel of the soft leather.
They drank more stout, ate some pie, talked late into the evening until they both released the occasional yawn.
Rita gazed at Sarah through red eyes. “I need to lie down.”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“Do your parents know you like women?”
Sarah looked at her. “I don’t know. I haven’t told them. How did you know I do?”
“They probably know, and I probably knew too.”
“Maybe. They never asked me, and I never told them.”
“So it was your girlfriend who joined with the Islam crowd?”
Sarah nodded. “I still can’t believe it. I sometimes wonder where she is now? But mostly I don’t care anymore. She’s one of them now.”
Rita looked at her with a pained expression on her face, the light from the lantern casting shadows across her eyes. “I don’t get it. From what Bill told me, Islam is killing the gay people. Your friend is misguided, I think.”
“I told her that. She wouldn’t listen.”
“I have bad dreams when I sleep.”
Sarah reached her hand out, placed it on top of Rita’s, caressed it softly. “I’ll help you.”
“I don’t think you can. I don’t think anyone can.”
“Why don’t you let me try?”
Rita stared at the familiar face, the straight perfect nose and full lips. Soft when kissed. A friend’s face. Why not accept some tender needed arms around her tonight? Why not let a friend soothe the beast of her dreams, where the blood runs through the window and under the bed and onto the carousel where the faces ride wooden horses on wooden saddles carved by elves and the blood rolls onto the covers of the bed and she awakes on soaking wet sheets. Why the hell not?
Sarah stayed for three days with Rita in the small cabin. Rita enjoyed the company. Enjoyed getting to know her friend better. Sarah really did help soothe the dreams. At least some. Held her while the images vanished from her mind. The faces on the carousel. She felt quite sad and alone when Sarah drove out of the yard and back to Thompson Lake.
Rita put on her winter coat and boots and went to visit her sister. Buddy never followed this time, instead he stayed curled up on the foot of the bed. When Rita entered the house, Karen was making soup in the kitchen.
“Well look what the cat dragged in. I was thinking about sending out the militia to look for you.”
Rita smiled. “I’ll just bet you were.”
“Did you and your friend have fun?”
“Yeah. I like Sarah.”
Karen studied her face, gave her a look. Said nothing.
“What was that look?”
She blurted. “You had sex with her, didn’t you?”
Rita opened her eyes wide. “And if I did?”
“A woman? You had sex with a woman?”
“We’re friends.”
“Just friends?”
“You’re one to talk.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Can we drop this now?”
Karen looked at her. “Good idea. Let’s drop it. Are you going to see Sarah again?”
“I thought you wanted to drop this?”
“I’m just asking.”
“She’s thinking of joining up with the militia in the spring.”
“Is she? And you?”
“Maybe Bill will be back by then. If he is I might go with her.”
“Are you in love with her?”
Rita looked at her. “We’re friends. Is it so wrong for me to want to be held now and then? To have someone tell me I’m beautiful? To have someone to hold when my dreams wake me up in the middle of the night? Me, drenched in sweat. Is that so wrong?”
Karen relaxed some, shook her head. “No. Its not so wrong. Maybe I wish I had someone to hold too. That’s all.”
“I guess I don’t look at sex like most people do. What does it matter what the sex of the person is if you’re friends?”
“So you’re bi-sexual now?”
“I don’t know. Sarah’s the first woman I’ve been with sexually. Does everything have to have a name?”
“If you grew your hair longer women wouldn’t hit on you. Do women hit on you much?”
“Sure. Some I guess.” She thought about one of the waitresses at the bar in Black Diamond. Then there was the red haired teller at her bank. Even the woman who owned the trailer park had invited her in for a drink and made a pass at her. Rita shook her head, she liked her hair this short. She changed the subject. “What are you making?”
“Chicken soup.”
“Can I have some?”
Karen smiled. “Grab a bowl, little sister.”
Christmas Eve in the valley turned out to be a good Christmas for Rita and Karen. They went for a sleigh ride with a neighbor couple, Mark and Andi. A fun evening out in the crisp winter air. Not too cold. Nice weather for listening to sleigh bells ring, big furry horses clopping on the hard packed snow covered gravel road. Karen had met a man and he stayed with her in her house over the holidays. A militia man from Calgary. She met him in Assiniboia one morning. Quite handsome too, thought Karen. And so polite.
Sarah came and stayed with Rita for a few days after Christmas and the pair spent New Year’s Eve playing poker with Karen and her new man, Benjamin Brown from cow town. Rita cleaned up all the peanuts they used as poker chips. Her luck was still holding, she thought. The two dollar coin with the missing center still carried its magic.
Bill Alexander arrived home in late January, the
