She turned slightly to find a very tall man dressed as Abraham Lincoln standing near the bumper of the SUV, holding a football helmet with a mannequin head in it. She stared harder, making sure she was seeing it right and that she wasn’t a candidate for an extended stay with the guy who’d claimed he saw a man turn into a bear.
“There is some freaky shit in my dream,” said Isobel flatly.
“I once had a dream with a giant talking mushroom that was sitting on a caterpillar,” said Bill.
Liberty tipped her head. “Do you mean Alice in Wonderland and the talking caterpillar on the mushroom?”
Bill shook his head, a look of confusion on his face. “I’m talking about my dream of a huge talking mushroom on a caterpillar. You have dreams with talking caterpillars in them? Liberty Bell, I don’t know how to break it to you, but you might want to speak to a professional about that.”
“Oh, I’m for sure dreaming,” said Isobel, still in the same spot as before.
Daisy sighed. “You’re awake, Isobel.”
“It’s true, you are,” added Liberty. She then leveled another hard look at the good-looking man.
Daisy followed her lead. “The super-hot guy is about to explain why he was manhandling the elderly.”
“Yeah,” said Bill. “Wait. Am I the elderly or the super-hot guy in this scenario? Because I gotta tell you, between Jackass and me, I’m the young one, not to mention, I’m hot. Ask around.”
Liberty gathered her string of thought and concentrated on Jackass. “I can’t believe you’d hurt him like that.”
Bill touched her arm lightly. “I may not like him, but I’m honest as Abe is over there—unless we’re at the airport and they ask about drugs. I lie like there is no tomorrow then. Tip, don’t let them bag checkers see you sweat or offer them any special gummies. Bastards are big into entrapment. Anyway, Jackass didn’t hurt me.”
“It certainly came off like he was hurting you,” returned Liberty.
Bill groaned. “He wasn’t. He wanted me to go in and shower. I’m not big on being told what to do. He’s not big on patience. But you probably picked up on that tidbit by just looking at him.”
“So he hosed you down?” asked Daisy. “Seems extreme.”
Liberty put a hand on her hip, glaring at Jackass. “Yes. It does.”
Jackass shrugged, as if it wasn’t as bad as they were making it out to be.
Bill squirmed a bit. “Desperate times…guess I gotta go in and take a shower. It’s gonna break my streak. I was going on day eleven without one.”
Liberty tensed. “Eleven days without a shower?”
He nodded, appearing very proud of his lack of hygiene.
She eyed the hose.
“Thinking of giving me a sponge bath?” asked Bill, sounding hopeful as he raised his bushy brows up and down quickly.
A squeak came from her and she stepped in the direction Jackass was still standing.
Bill glanced at Jackass, smiled wide, and straightened the wet fake beard he was wearing. “I might be getting a sponge bath. Jealous?”
“Uh, no, you’re not getting a sponge anything,” said Liberty quickly. “But I can help you get to a shower and find you something else to put on since your…who is he? Is he your son?”
Bill stared harder at Jackass and then cackled boisterously, patting his gut as he did. “Yep. Totally my kid. I should have spanked him more as a child.”
“Stop talking,” said Jackass, his accent very clearly Russian and nothing like Bill’s voice. Actually, not only did Jackass’s eyes make her think of the nice man from her past, but his voice did too.
Weird.
It also made her think about her Russian literature class and how much Tolstoy was getting on her nerves. As much as she wanted to take her annoyance out on the hot guy for that, she resisted.
For now.
“Uh, he doesn’t sound like he’s your son,” said Liberty, pointing out what had to be painfully obvious to all present.
Bill squared his shoulders and tugged at the lapels on his jacket. “He’s the result of a weekend I spent in Russia, on shore leave,” he looked Jackass up and down, “some thirty or so years ago. Good times. Not long back, he showed up out of the blue, announcing I was his daddy. Damn love children. They’ll get ya every time.”
For a second, Bill looked pained, as if the subject was touchier than he was presenting it to be.
“Is he your son too?” asked Daisy, nodding at Abraham Lincoln.
“He’s my best buddy,” said Bill. “That’s Gus and his girl Mona. She’s not a talker. Come to think of it, neither is Gus. And between us, Mona is going through some body issues. Mainly, the fact she ain’t got one. She’s still got it in for me because I decapitated her. Like it’s my fault the damn weregorilla didn’t get a safe house with wider hallways.”
“Were what?” asked Liberty. “Did you say gorilla?”
Gus turned to the side, avoiding anything in the way of eye contact or more introductions.
Somehow, the day had managed to get even stranger. Considering she’d once tossed around a trailer like it weighed nothing and Isobel set a huge fire with her mind, the fact Liberty found this off was saying something.
Bill stared at him for a few moments and then smiled. “Gus says it’s real nice to meet you all and that we’re all gonna be great friends.”
“We will?” asked Liberty.
Bill nodded. “Yeah. I gotta get cleaned up and find Jackass the perfect girlie mag. Brought a bunch of them with me. They’re vintage. Tried to offer him one before. Even explained that if he took some time to choke the kuritsa he might not be such a jackass.”
“I’m for sure dreaming,” said Isobel. “This can’t be happening. No way does anyone choke a—whatever in the hell he just said.”
Bill looked at her. “Russian for chicken. Maybe. Or maybe I just insulted his maternal grandmother. I don’t know. And by choke, I mean—”
“We know what you
