The Devil's Beating His Wife (22 page)

"Are you sure?" Stepping towards him, I slowly crouched down in front of him. His eyes roamed over my face. He looked worried. "Do you think ghosts can make love?" I asked him.

Baxter's eyes widened as his mouth fell open. He closed his jaw with a click. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"Nope, not at all," he said, standing from the chair. He once again loomed above me, staring down into my face. "I mean, if you don't think it's possible, we could certainly try. That would erase any doubts you might have."

I grinned at him.

He grinned back.

"I got a better idea."

His grin grew even broader. "Oh? What?"

I raised a finger and traced around his jaw line as I circled his body. When I stood behind him, I slid my arms around his waist and rocked into him, nice and slow. "Let's go into town."

His body jerked and tensed. "No, thanks." I wasn't sure why he declined. I expected him to be excited about an adventure.

"Come on, I'm giving you a chance to make up for breaking your promise," I said softly against the nape of his neck.

His head snapped around. He stuck his finger in my face and prowled towards me, turning on his toes. "That's not fair and you know it."

I raised my hand and combed my fingers through his golden hair. "Baxter. It would make me happy." Questions about my mother had plagued my peace. Baxter's mother and father were dead. Was my mama also?

Baxter's fingers circled mine as he lowered our hands. He held them against his heart as he closed his eyes. "Fine."

His quick turn-about surprised me. My hands fell back down to my side as I licked the corners of my lips. "Just like that?"

He watched the movement of my tongue very closely. In a stilted manner, he said, "If it makes you happy."

I grinned at him.

He scowled back.

From the first day that I met him, standing on his daddy's porch, something was never quite right about our interactions. I always figured it was his arrogant demeanor. His need to charm everyone who came into contact with him. But it was in that moment that I truly understood my resentment towards Baxter.

Power.

He had it. And I didn't. Well, until now.

This wasn't the type of power I would have wanted when I was alive. Back then, I didn't want anything to do with Baxter. I wouldn't have wanted to encourage his strange desire for me. But this was our afterlife. And I was a tad bit bored with our day-to-day routine.

As I smoothed the collar of his button-down shirt, I said, "So, Baxter, this time when we do it, I'm gonna lead no matter what happens, you understand? I don't care if the sheriff is chasing us with guns drawn, I'm staying in control."

"I'm not too keen on that idea, Spicey. I'm not convinced what'd happen if we died again. We might get stuck together or something."

"We're already stuck together."

"Stuck in the same body, I mean. I greatly enjoy the feeling of being a part of you, but I rather like the idea of being just myself, just Baxter. I'm just rambling now, but the thought of being stuck inside you or you inside me just doesn't sit right." He said all of this as he licked his lips, watched my mouth, and flushed with arousal.

"I figure if we get into that kinda trouble, we'll just break apart. We'll come right back here—"

Baxter stepped back, slapping my wandering hands away. "You can't be sure of that."

"We can't be sure of anything. What's the worst that could happen? Relax, Baxter, this is going to go real smooth. Trust me." I crooked my finger at him and added a coo to my voice. "Now come here, Baxter. Stop dawdling."

He stiffened as I walked closer to him. It wasn't a true surrender, but he had certainly stopped fighting. When I approached him, he raised his arms and took me into his embrace.

The rush of wind swept through me as his soul entered me, fusing into one body. Once we were fully connected, I took a slow, frightful breath. There was no stink in the air, thank goodness.

I'm going to regret this
, thought Baxter.

"Oh, just hush." I had gotten what I wanted. No need to pretend I wanted anything else.

You're an evil woman, Spicey.

"I'm a lovely woman, Baxter. A very lovely woman," I said as I skipped out of the house and leapt from the porch. With a gleeful shout, I ran across the yard, reaching the main road in seconds. When we stood at the edge of the grass, I stopped. This was it. The boundary of Colsen's land. I wasn't sure what would happen when our feet touched the pavement.

Having second thoughts?

I ignored him as I stared down at the dark road. It was different from my memory. I seemed to recall a light gray road that had plenty of cracks and potholes. This was smooth and pitch-black.

The road beckoned me and it also scared me. Was it a sign? Maybe an omen that we had reached the edge of our existence?

You mean the blackened road to Hell, perhaps?

Was I ready for this? Probably not, but I took the first step anyway. I lifted our foot and gingerly placed it onto the dark road. When our foot connected with the pavement, a great big sigh coursed through me. No wide open gates to Hell. No frolicking demons welcoming us home. It was just another paved road.

"See, Baxter? You was worried for nothing." Grinning, I took another step onto the road, just as a car went speeding past us. The car was so close I felt the brush of its side mirror across my breasts. The slight impact caused me to stumble backwards onto the welcoming green grass.

The screech of tires filled the air as the driver slammed on his brakes. The man threw open his car door and climbed out. He stood next to the car as he stared back at us, an annoyed look on his face. "Damn, girl, you could have been killed. Don't you have more sense than to step out onto a highway like that?"

A heart fluttered in our chest. I thought it was mine since Baxter wasn't the type to react to this lovely specimen of a man. He was tall, with dark brown skin and dark brown eyes. His hair was a large black bush around his face. It made me smile when the wind blew through its fluffiness.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Remember your manners," I reminded Baxter.

"My manners, young lady?" the black man said. "What about your manners? I wasn't the damn fool who nearly got killed."

The words just tumbled from my mouth. "You can't kill what's already dead."

"What?" asked the black man. His eyes widened and his attention focused more closely on my face. "Oh, my God. I hit you, didn't I? I knocked the sense right outta ya."

Turn around and walk away, Spicey. Don't encourage him any further.

The black man walked around the car and marched towards us with a purpose. He looked bewildered when he stopped in front of us. "Young lady, where did you come from?" he whispered.

The angry bite was gone, replaced by soft concern.

I have never felt more dreadful.

"Hush, now," I murmured.

"Pardon me?" asked the handsome man, the surprise lifting from his eyes.

I leaned forward and took his fingers into our hand.

You're touching him now?

"I'm sorry, sir," I began. "I was telling myself to quiet my temper. I wouldn't want to be rude to the gentleman that was just about to offer me a ride into town."

The black man's eyebrows lifted. "Is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"I was about to offer you a ride back into town?"

"Yes, sir. You sure was."

I can't believe this. If you don't leave him alone, I'm going to leave.

"You will do no such thing," I told Baxter. "You promised."

"Now I ain't givin' you a ride, huh?" said the man.

"You are, sir. You are." I let the words linger in the air, feeling flirtatious.

He grinned broadly, revealing a deep dimple in his cheek. "My name is Isaac, ma'am." He bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart.

"I'm Spic—elle. Spicelle."

Oh, that's clever.

"Spicelle? That's a unique name if I ever done heard one," the man said, chuckling.

I leaned into him, pretending like I was sharing a secret. "My mama thought it sounded French."

He barked with laughter, and then his face fell into serious lines. "Well, Ms. Spicelle, we better get going." He walked back to his car and opened the door wide, standing aside to let me enter. I stepped back onto the road and slowly made my way towards Isaac's car, letting my hips sway.

You never acted like this around me.

"I like him," I said, grinning at Isaac. He grinned back at me as I slid into his car. As he shut the door, I took a moment to take in all the differences in the car's interior. There were new knobs to turn. Different buttons to push.

Isaac sat down behind the wheel and watched my hands as I fiddled with everything. "You through?" he asked when my hands finally settled in my lap.

"I certainly hope so," croaked Baxter.

Isaac flinched from the deepness of the voice. I coughed and hacked, pretending to clear my throat. "Something got caught in my throat. I'm sorry." I laughed, trying to joke it off.

"Girl? That's what you is, right?" Isaac said, glancing out of the corner of his eye.

"Naw, baby, I'm all woman." Saying the words caused my body to flush. I grew aroused as I imagined Isaac sliding his fingers up my thigh to see if I really was a woman.

I knew this was a bad idea. Just a plain, stupid idea. Spicey, you're going to quit this right now. You're going to stop thinking about making love with this man. I won't have no part of it, you hear. No way in hell is this man touching you, touching me. I won't do it. I won't.

Just as the panic rose in Baxter's thoughts, Isaac reached down between my legs and grabbed something from under the seat. I inhaled sharply as he straightened. "What's your flavor, baby? The Temptations? Aretha?" In his hands were a couple of boxes. He was waving them in the air. "What you want to listen to?"

"What's that?" I said, pointing at the closest one.

He turned the box in his hand and looked at it. "Aretha. You want to listen to Aretha?"

I didn't know what an Aretha was. I nodded in approval. Isaac winked and stuck the box into a hole in the dashboard. He shifted gears, and then swung the large vehicle around on the road. Music began to flow through the car. Isaac snapped his fingers to the rhythm while he sang the lyrics.

"You from round these parts?" he asked, nearly shouting over the loud music.

Baxter fidgeted. I could feel it deep within me. "My family has deep roots here."

Wrong answer, Spicy.

"Is that right now? What's the family name? Maybe I know them," Isaac asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye. He grinned broadly as he maneuvered the car down the winding road.

"I don't know." As Baxter stared openly at me, I tried to think of a sensible explanation for not knowing my family name.

Tell him you were an orphan.

In a sense, that was true. "I was abandoned. My father walked out on my mama and she was stuck with a baby. She didn't know what else to do so she went north where she had some cousins. My mama gave birth to me then gave me over to a local church group where I was taken in by the preacher."

Isaac nodded. "And your mama came back here and now you hope to go looking for her, huh? I certainly know that story. My great-aunt found herself in a family way, too. Like your mama, her family sent her up north where the folks couldn't whisper about her condition. Lucky for my aunt, she met a good man up there. He married her and accepted her baby by another man. They had a good life, as far as I can tell."

"Look," he continued, "is there anywhere special I can take you? I wish I could show you around, but I need to be at work." He grinned in my direction. "I'm late as it is, but I figure you're worth the grillin' I'm fittin' to get."

"Thank you, Isaac. I appreciate your kindness," I said as he drove into the center of the town. Isaac had barely stopped the car when Baxter propelled us out. We struggled for a bit, over whether to wave goodbye at Isaac or not. Thankfully, I won the skirmish. Throwing my hand into the air, I said, "You're a good man, Isaac. May God bless you."

"Hold on now, Spicelle. This ain't goodbye," he said as he leaned out the window. "This is a see you later, baby girl. I'll be seeing you later."

I waved again, choosing not to answer.

You sure seemed to like him.

"He was a likable kind of guy. Where should we go first?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

It's not going to be that easy. How come you never treated me like that?

I crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk. The wind swirled at my skirt, whipping the fabric around my legs. The crisp, clean air filled my nostrils. "Oh, Baxter, would you just stop. We're home and all you can think about is some stranger. Look around you."

We turned in a circle and took in the small town that had been our home. I could feel his hesitancy, as if he hadn't wanted to change the subject. But continuing down that path did neither of us any good.

Finally, the stubborn man conceded.
Things sure have changed.

"Everything changes over time, Baxter."

But not like this, Spicey, and well you know it. I damn near don't recognize the town anymore. Where's the Baptist church? What's that building over there where Smith's Grocer used to be? Are we in the right place?

My gaze roamed the landscape as I tried to find familiar landmarks. The same train tracks divided Wilkinson and Twiggs Counties. Of course, the tracks probably stretched through many a small town.

It wasn't until my eyes connected with the old cemetery that I was certain we were home. A rush of excitement swirled through me. I wasn't sure if it was from me or Baxter as I crossed the street and made my way to the burial ground.

I marched over the land until I reached the rusted iron gate. It was unlocked with the door slightly open, almost like we were being welcomed in. I placed my hand onto the gate and pushed it wider so I could fit.