Chapter 11 #2
Zachary had explained earlier that this ride would show the adventures of a mischievous animal called Brrrr Rabbit as he left his home in the briar patch to search for the laughing place.
That sounded barmy, but harmless, she had thought.
But, wait a minute. “Why are they strapping us in?” she turned and asked Zachary.
“So we don’t fall out.”
“How could we...oh, do not tell me they intend to turn us upside down?”
“Nope. But they are gonna drop us off a mountain that’s, oh, let’s say, five stories high.” He flashed her one of his rascal grins.
“Whaaaat?” she shrieked, but the log had already started moving and she was busy staring straight ahead, holding on, white-fisted, to the bar in front of her.
Almost immediately, music starting blasting out of the scenery which they passed, weird songs about “Zip-it-he-do-dah,” all sung by animal creatures.
She soon got the flow of a saga being told about Brrrr Rabbit and Brrrr Fox and Brrrr Bear and a briar patch.
There was even a “laughing place” and those in the log were told that everyone had a laughing place.
Hah! If anyone dared try to find a laughing place on her they would be minus a hand, she vowed silently.
Mayhap it was the same as the funny bone Zachary had said she hit on him in his showering stall yestereve.
Nothing frightening was happening yet...just peculiar creatures singing barmy songs about it being a small world, and, of course the zip-it-he-do-dah. And some mild dips of the log, accompanied by mists of water. And the clackety clack of the log rolling along the track.
Zachary, taking advantage of the lull, leaned forward, lifted her braid, and kissed the back of her neck.
“Do not distract me,” she grumbled. “I must concentrate on what is ahead.”
“Too bad I didn’t have you sit on my lap.” He was licking her ear now.”
The lout! She would have slapped him away, but she was afraid to take her hands off the bar.
“We could have been having the first ever orgasm falling off Flash Mountain. Betcha we’d set some kind of record.”
If he keeps on licking, I may have one anyhow.
“This place got that nickname, you know, Flash Mountain, because women were flashing their breasts, not just at the waterfall, but—”
“Waterfall? What waterfall?”
Danny turned around then, winked at her and gave Zachary a signal involving a circle made by a thumb and forefinger. It was no doubt something obscene.
They entered a dark tunnel in the mountain now.
And of course the rogue behind her took advantage. She felt two hands creep around to cup her breasts from underneath, the thumbs strumming the nipples into aching points. “How does that feel, sweetheart?”
She did not speak, but she moaned her answer.
“That good, huh?” He used thumbs and forefingers now to pull at the nipples and roll them till she felt a soft thrum of pleasure between her legs. “Touch yourself between your legs, sweetheart. Come on. Do it. Please.”
She did and within seconds she was coming apart, her lower body stiff and arched up off the seat as far as the belt would allow her to go.
He kissed her neck and whispered, “Zip-it-he-do-dah, baby!” With the braid back in place, he said something ominous. “Prepare yourself. See that white light at the end of the tunnel?”
“Prepare myself? For what? Oh, you louse, you were trying to distract me when you...when I....aiyeeeeeeeeeee!”
The log shot out the tunnel into the light, then straight down from a huge height, with water spraying them from all sides. Meanwhile, that blasted song was still playing.
When the log came to rest, a crowd cheered, whilst waiting for their turn. She was soaked from the top of her head to her toes, as were others in the log, who were laughing as if it was great fun to be tossed off a mountain and nigh drowned.
Once she was on her feet and had swept wet strands of hair off her face, she searched for Zachary. He stood laughing, like all the rest.
But then, she saw he was looking somewhere else. As were some of the men. At her chest. She looked down and saw that her nipples were standing out like sharp pebbles against the wet tea-ing shert, due to the cold water and Zachary’s wicked fingers.
“You lecherous loathsome perverted odious son of a troll!
“ She walked over, swung her arm like a windmill, then punched him, missing her mark on his chin and instead landing on his chest. Surprised, he lost his balance and fell flat on his back.
If there were not so many people around, she would have jumped on his too-flat belly and pummeled his too-pretty face.
As it was, she had already created a scene, with people all around them laughing.
The laughter died down immediately when they became aware that Sammy was on the ground behind them trying to beat on the boy that had sat behind him in the log.
“Raghead! Sand eater! Stinkin’ Arab!”
“I am not an Arab. I’m...I’m...” Sammy seemed unable to come up with a description of exactly what he was. He did have an eastern cast to his features, but his eyes were blue and his cheekbones sharp, like his father’s.
Two men who had extraordinary muscles and height, one blond, the other black-haired, rushed into the area and one immediately held out his arms, barring people from getting closer. One of them was yelling “Secure the perimeter! Secure the perimeter!”
She thought she heard Danny mutter, “Good ol’ Dad!”
The other boy was twice Sammy’s size, but Sammy was getting in punches here and there. That was before his father picked him up by the belt, leaving the scamp to flail and kick about, using words that brought a blush to Britta’s face, and she understood but half of them.
Meanwhile, a bald man...presumably the other boy’s father...pulled his son up. Instead of chastising him, his lip curled with disgust on viewing Sammy. The father and son swaggered off. The other boy who had been in the log shot them an embarrassed shrug of apology and went away, too.
The black-haired muscle man followed the trio. The other blended into the crowd directly behind them.
Zachary set Sammy on the ground then and used a white linen he pulled from a pocket in his braies to wipe the dirt off his face and the blood off his nose and cut lip. “You okay, tiger?”
Sammy nodded and stifled a sob. The brave little thing did not want to cry in public. She knew the feeling well.
Glancing over at Danny, she saw that he appeared equally touched by the scene.
Zachary made a silent signal to someone in the crowd, presumably the blond muscle man. Then he did just the right thing. He swung his son up into his embrace and forced the bloody face into the crook of his neck. He made soothing sounds, like “Forget about them.”
“They were jerks,” Sammy choked out.
“Yeah, they were. You want me to go beat the crap out of them, the kid and the father?”
Sammy raised his head and grinned at his father. “Would you?”
“If you really want me to.”
After a moment, Sammy shook his head, and allowed his father to kiss him on the cheek. But then the boyling followed up with, “I still hate you.”
“I know,” Zachary said. “Wanna go over to the arcade? Betcha I can win you a few prizes. You, too, Mohammed Ali,” he said to Britta. “I’m pretty deadly with the rifle game.”
So, still carrying his son, Zachary extended a hand to her. Danny looped an arm over her shoulder from the other side. As they walked away, they could have been mistaken for a family.
And something deep in Britta’s soul stretched and sighed.