chapter twenty‑three

He awoke to the sound of bacon sizzling in a pan. The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was that Alice had gone; in her place sat Lewis with a rifle in his hand.

"Oh shit, where-" began Andrew.

Lewis pointed with his gun over Andrew's shoulder and towards the stove. Alice was standing at the stove with a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other.

"But, where's-"

Lewis nodded his head in a direction over Andrew's other shoulder and towards the sink. Fred was standing at the sink washing last night's dinner plates.

"Phew," said Andrew relieved that nothing drastic had happened while he was asleep.

"Yes, you may well say Phew. It was damn lucky we didn't all get our throats cut. I should never have trusted you two," snarled Lewis.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Lewis, but I have complete faith in Alice. I knew she wouldn't run away or anything."

"Well, you were right about that, and maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. When I came down this morning she was cooking breakfast while you two were fast asleep. I must admit that doesn't strike me as the behaviour of a real villain, and I'm inclined to believe her story."

"Story?" asked Andrew, apprehensively.

"Yes, about how she was kidnapped from her commune and forced to become a member of the gang which tried to raid us."

"Oh so she told you, too? Well that's why Fred and I trusted her enough to fall asleep. Isn't that right, Fred?"

"Certainly is," confirmed Fred. "The rest of these dishes are for you."

"But, I thought ..."

"It's our punishment for falling asleep on guard duty."

Andrew took over the task of washing up, noting with annoyance that Fred had cleaned all the plates but left the pans for him.

Andrew was scrubbing furiously when an enormous woman burst through the door. Fortunately for her, Lewis had put down the rifle otherwise he would certainly have shot her - the similarity to a rogue elephant preparing to charge was uncomfortably close.

"Now where's the lucky man?" she shouted, casting her beady black eyes around the room. Since all the men looked equally nonplussed, she picked the most handsome, Lewis, as a likely target. "What, no flowers for your new bride?"

"No, no," said Lewis hastily, having finally caught on. "It's him!" he pointed gleefully at Andrew.

"Well colour me blue, no flowers and no kiss for your darling bride?" she said accusingly to Andrew.

"Ah ... yes, of course." Andrew rushed over to the woman and kissed her lightly on one of her voluminous cheeks, "I'm very sorry ... you see we had ... we were ... Fred?" Andrew gave up, he was too shaken to construct anything like a meaningful sentence.

"I'm afraid Andrew is utterly overwhelmed, with joy, to see you at last," explained Fred. "But, you see, the commune was attacked by a vicious gang, and, since then, Andrew has been distraught with worry about your safety. So much so, that the idea of flowers never even occurred to him."

"Oh, how sweet; never mind, my darling," said the woman her gigantic arms squeezing the breath out of Andrew. "I'm here now and quite, quite safe. Now let me introduce myself; my name is Olive."

Kate and the other members of the commune entered the room carrying all manner of objects, most of which were designed to play some role in the care of young children.

"Look what we've got!" said Kate as she dumped a large box of nappies onto the dining table. "Hey, who's this?" she asked, having just spotted Alice.

"This is Alice, and, boy, have we got a story for you!" said Lewis. "But let's store all this stuff away first, and I'm sure Olive would like time to get settled in."

"You bet," said Olive finally releasing Andrew. "Now then, honey, which is our room?"

"Our room?" queried Andrew, the blood only just beginning to flow back to his brain.

"Well colour me green! We can call it your room, if you like. Heaven knows, I'm easy going enough to take it," said Olive.

"No, no it's our room all right; I just didn't realize you'd be moving in straight away. It's that one over there," said Andrew pointing to his bedroom door.

"Well, where did you expect me to sleep? Outside with the animals?" said Olive sternly.

"We do have a vacancy to suit her," whispered Fred in Lewis's ear.

Lewis laughed out loud and Olive swung around to glare at him.

"If you've got a joke, honey; let's all share it," said Olive.

"Uh, well," said Lewis blushing. "It was Fred's joke - I'm sure he can tell it better than me."

"No, no, you always tell jokes better than me," said Fred hastily.

"Well while you're working out who's going to tell it, why don't you bring my bags in from the cart," said Olive.

Fred and Lewis rushed out to get the luggage - happy to be let off so lightly.

"Maybe I should give them a hand," said Andrew and promptly followed Fred and Lewis out of the door.

The three men stood around the cart, each hoping that one of the others would pick up the large trunk which was first in line.

"You've certainly got your hands full there," said Fred.

"Now, please, let's not have any childish Fat jokes - she's probably a very nice woman," reprimanded Andrew. "Some people find large women extremely attractive."

"Not me," said Fred.

"Me neither," said Lewis.

"Hmmm, no chance of doing a swap then," said Andrew, disappointed.

"Take my advice," said Lewis, "with that kind of woman; you've got to break her quickly before she breaks you."

"What are you talking about?" asked Andrew.

"Some people just have to dominate, it's in their blood - they can't help it. That kind of person can wreck a commune like ours. The only way to stop them is to knock them flat. Each time they start pushing you around, you've got to push back - harder. Notice how she came in firing both barrels; she's already got the others knuckled under, so it's up to us, but primarily you, Andrew, because you're in the front line. Once she realizes she can't throw her weight around," said Lewis, pausing to smirk, "she'll become a happy member of the group."

"You don't think she'll just settle in of her own accord?" asked Andrew hopefully.

"No chance. Look at the way she ordered us to get her bags. You're the one who's married to her for the rest of your life. It's up to you to mould her into something you'd want to spend the rest of your life with."

"But you can't force someone to change their personality just because it's not the way you want it."

"You have to; she'll be doing the same with you. It always happens; you can't expect two people who've never met before to be instantly suited to each other. The two personalities have to battle it out. During the battle they both change, and eventually knock each other into compatibility."

"Sounds like a dreadful process," said Andrew.

"Oh it is, and sometimes it can go on for years," said Lewis.

"But what about Fred and Kate? They get on perfectly well and they haven't been together very long."

"Would you like me to turn around?" said Fred. "So you can really talk about me behind my back."

"It'll be much harder for them," said Lewis.

"What do you mean?" said Fred indignantly.

"You're in love now; so you can put up with practically anything that Kate does. But as soon as the love fades, which of course it will, you'll have to go through the same personality bashing as Andrew does now. But it'll be more emotional and much more traumatic because one of you will, almost certainly, still be in love."

"Well thanks for that cheering thought," said Fred. "It's nice to know I've got something to look forward to."

"Hey, what's keeping those bags?" screeched a voice from the house.

Fred and Lewis looked at Andrew expectantly.

"We were waiting for you to give us a hand," shouted Andrew and smiled at the 'thumbs‑up' sign Lewis gave him.

"Are you kidding? With my back?" shouted Olive.

The three men shrugged in resignation and began unloading the cart.

Later that morning, Andrew was helping Kate unpack some of the goods they had brought back from the Fair.

"Oh, this must have got into your pile by mistake," said Andrew holding up a nappy.

"No that's mine all right; they were going cheap so I thought I would stock up for the future," said Kate taking the nappy and putting it in a drawer.

"So you think you can talk Fred into it then?"

"I expect so, but, even if I can't, I'm going to have children regardless."

"Without Fred?"

"No with Fred. All I have to do is lie about when the safe‑time is - he never keeps track of it himself."

"But what if I warn him?"

"Then he has to go without sex. How long do you think he could put up with that?"

"I've no idea; how long do you think?"

"No longer than a week."

"Really? Horny little devil, is he?" said Andrew enjoying the intimate revelations.

"No, not really; it's just that I'm so good," said Kate pretending to polish her nails.

"But do you think it's fair to push him into a situation he doesn't want to be in?"

"Oh, he doesn't know what he wants. He'll be happy about it later."

"You haven't been talking to Miss Colour‑Me‑By‑Numbers have you?"

"Well, yes, the subject did come up on the way back from the Fair."

"So Lewis was right," said Andrew shaking his head sadly.

"About what?"

"He said that a strong personality would disrupt the commune - at least I think that's what he was trying to say. He tends to preach a lot, so I never listen to him for longer than two minutes at a time."

"Yes I suppose she has got quite a strong character, but she's not disruptive," said Kate and then turned to look in Andrew's eyes. "You're  not scared of her, are you?"

"Scared! I'm petrified!"

"Ah, you've got the newlywed's jitters, worried about the first night together. Well, I've got some important advice for you."

"What?"

"Don't let her go on top," giggled Kate.

"Kate, I'm surprised at you. I thought you, at least, would be sensitive enough not to make jokes about her size."

"I'm sorry, it is rather cruel. I'll try not to make light of it again, especially as it's a subject which," she had to raise her voice at this point because Andrew was walking rapidly away, "weighs so heavily on your mind."

Andrew raised his hands to his ears and continued walking.

"Wait, weight, we haven't finished chewing the fat," screamed Kate and finally succumbed to another attack of giggles.

Andrew walked outside and found Fred and Alice pushing the cart towards the barn.

"Been having a chat with the little lady?" asked Fred referring to the fact that Andrew still had his hands over his ears.

"I refuse to talk to anyone who can't hold a conversation without including puns on obesity," said Andrew priggishly.

"Okay, okay, we promise to try and behave ourselves."

"Pardon?" said Andrew removing his hands from his ears.

"Very funny. But how are you getting on with your new bride?" asked Alice.

"I've been avoiding her, I think she's still in the bedroom - God knows what she's doing, she's been there for two hours!"

"She's probably preparing herself for the wedding night ritual," said Fred.

"Oh yes I was wondering if there was going to be any kind of ceremony to mark the event," said Andrew jumping onto the cart as the others resumed pushing it.

"I meant the wedding night ritual."

"Typical. Isn't there any kind of traditional ceremony?"

"No, but I suppose we could make one up for you."

"Yes," said Alice enthusiastically, "we could sacrifice a goat and soak your head in its warm entrails."

"Boy, you certainly know how to have a good time," said Fred, trying to dispel the revolting image from his mind.

"It's no more pagan than a woman having to change her name as proof of ownership," said Alice.

"Am I really expected to have sex with her on the first night?" said Andrew, who hadn't been listening.

"Yes of course," said Fred, "aren't you looking forward to it?"

"It's not because she's so fat. I mean, I hardly know the woman; it seems so unromantic, so callous, so ... There's not even any affection between us at the moment. We've got nothing in common."

"Just the fact that you happen to be married to each other," said Fred.

"Yeah, but I was married to Brian and I didn't sleep with him."

"Really? I always wondered about that - naturally I didn't like to pry," said Fred.

"Now this sounds interesting," said Alice. "Tell me more."

"Some other time," said Andrew. "What can I say to her? The slightest hint that I don't want to sleep with her and she'll immediately assume that it's because of her weight."

"And of course it isn't," said Alice. "It would be just as impossible for you to sleep with her if she was the most gorgeous young thing you've ever seen."

"Exactly," said Andrew.

"Even if she had long flowing hair, firm pouting breasts and silky soft thighs?" persisted Alice.

"Well, okay, I suppose in those, very special, circumstances things might be a little easier for me," admitted Andrew.

"Or a little harder for you!" said Fred contorting his face with a lewd smile.

"I will admit that lust does come into it," said Andrew trying to ignore Fred, "but I can't help that, can I? I can't control my hormones or whatever it is that makes me want to have sex with girls who have firm pouting breasts - as you so delightfully described them."

"So why don't you get off your high‑horse and concede that you're as sexist as the next man?" asked Alice.

"I'm not as sexist as this next man," said Andrew nodding at Fred.

"At least I'm honest about it. Anyway, the question is, what are you going to do about Olive?" said Fred.

"I'll think of something," said Andrew and jumped off the cart. He walked back to the house and tried to prepare himself for the show‑down.

Andrew stood outside the door of his bedroom, unable to formulate any reasonable plan of attack, or defence as he saw it. He decided to take the bull by the horns and hope that it didn't smash up the china‑shop. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," commanded a high‑pitched voice.

Andrew opened the door and stepped inside.

"Wow, you've been busy," said Andrew, shocked at how the room had been transformed. The previously bare walls were now covered with paintings, gaudy representations of young 'Hyper‑Cute' animals with over‑large brown eyes that glistened sadly. The table beside the bed, which had held nothing but a dirty handkerchief, was now festooned with an assortment of jars, tins, brushes and combs. All the drawers from the chest had been laid out on the bed and were in the process of being filled to the brim. Even the curtains had been replaced with ones showing garish scenes of forest life.

"Oh it's you, honey. Colour me yellow, you know you don't have to knock - it's your room, too." Olive stepped over to Andrew and slipped her arm around his waist. "What do you think?" she waved her other colossal arm to indicate the room.

"It's very nice," lied Andrew.

"Nice? Nice? Have words like tasteful, elegant, artistic and stylish been omitted from your vocabulary? Is nice the word to describe the fruits of my hard labour these past two hours? Or perhaps, you don't like it?"

"Well, don't you think it's a bit tacky?" said Andrew having decided to tackle her head on.

"Well colour me black and white, honey. Of course it isn't tacky. You know it isn't; you're just using it to voice your anger about something else. You see I'm a scholar of human nature; I can read between the lines of everyday conversation. So when you say; Olive I think this room is tacky you really mean; Olive something is troubling me, please help. And of course I'll help. Here," she led Andrew to the only uncluttered part of the bed, sat down and pulled him down to sit on her knee. "Sit down with Olive and tell her all about it."

Andrew was speechless with rage at being treated like a five year old. He tried to stand up but Olive held on tightly to his arm.

"Now come on, don't be shy. You know there shouldn't be any secrets between us. What's the problem?"

Andrew fought down his anger and humiliation, and at once conceived what his line of offensive should be.

"Ah, Olive," he began, forcing himself to stroke her hair. "You are very perceptive. What a lucky man I am, to have you for a wife. There is something bothering me, but it's rather embarrassing - not the sort of thing that would upset a normal red‑blooded male. But, you see, I am quite sensitive. I didn't want to tell you for fear that you would think me weak."

"One thing I have learnt from the school of life is that most men are more sensitive than they would like people to believe. It takes a big man to admit that he is not invincible. So tell me what it is, honey."

"It's about tonight, I don't know you very well yet, and, this being my first time, I wondered if you would mind waiting a few days until I felt more relaxed with you."

Olive stood up, with a speed which Andrew would not have thought possible from such a massive object. Her sudden rise caused Andrew to stumble across the room and into the wall before he had regained his balance.

"You louse!" she screamed. "You just don't want to sleep with me because you think I'm fat! How could you be so insensitive?"

Andrew was dazed, partly because he had been thrown violently across the room and partly because the rules of the game seemed to have been changed without any prior warning.

"It's got nothing to do with you being so fat, it's j-"

"So you do think I'm fat!"

"No I didn't mean that; I don't think you're fat-"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I'm fat. I'm the fattest person I've ever met. How can you say I'm not fat?"

"All right you're fat, you're gigantic, immense, huge, gargantuan -"

"You've got a real hang‑up about fat people, haven't you?"

"No! I j-"

"Then why won't you sleep with me?"

"All right, all right, I'll sleep with you!" growled Andrew and stormed out of the room.

Andrew spent the rest of the day trying to chop down trees with a blunt axe. It did little to increase the commune's supply of timber but proved to be a marvellous outlet for his violent aggression toward Olive. Consequently, he missed lunch, and arrived back at the house only just in time for dinner. Everyone was seated around the table, eating - everyone, that is, but Alice; she was tied to one of the wooden pillars which supported the roof.

"Hey, what's going on?" said Andrew trying to ignore the murderous looks that Alice was sending in his direction.

"I'm sorry, but she has to be hung," said Kate apologetically.

"Hanged," corrected Alice bitterly.

"But why?" asked Andrew.

"We've been all through this with Fred and Lewis. No matter what her circumstances, she was stealing from a commune. The penalty for that is death. Always has been, always will be - there can be no exceptions. Fred even took the unprecedented step of calling for a vote which, out of courtesy to him and you, we allowed. The decision of the majority was that she should be hanged at dawn tomorrow. Now, we've been arguing about it all afternoon and the last thing we want is to go through it all again with you. So sit down, shut up and eat," said Kate angrily.

Andrew ate his dinner in silence. He tried to counter Alice's looks of betrayal with ones of reassurance, but in such a way that no one else would see. Because of the number of people involved, he failed completely. Meanwhile Fred had spent the time, also by employing unobserved glances, trying to convey the fact that he had slipped a sleeping potion into Olive's tea. Since Andrew was engrossed with his own attempts at silent communication; Fred's efforts were also entirely wasted.

Andrew had just finished his dinner when Olive, inexplicably, fell asleep. Her snoring was so raucous that, despite the magnitude of the task, the others felt they would have to carry her off to bed.

As the evening wore on it became obvious to Andrew and Fred that the others were not going to bed until they had. A rota of guards had been organised to watch Alice throughout the night, but neither Fred nor Andrew was included on it.

This entire document is protected by the author's copyright.