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Ring My Bell
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Ring My Bell
by B. A. Tortuga
Torquere Press
Copyright ©2007 by BA Tortuga
First published in torquerepress.com, 2007
NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser
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Distributed by Fictionwise.com
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Ring My Bell
by B. A. Tortuga
The bell ringing gig was getting old. It really was. 'Course
it was his own fault. That drunken brawl at the Oasis had cost
Collin about five hundred dollars in fines and three weeks of
volunteer work. As a Christmas bell ringer. It sure as hell
lowered his Christmas spirit. So much for peace on earth,
Collin was ready to have a mental breakdown. And the turkey
leftovers were only just gone.
Damn it.
"You know, every time a bell rings, an angel gets its
wings," some old blue haired lady said while she dropped fifty
cents into Collin's donation can.
He bared his teeth. "That's what they say. Happy
Holidays."
"You too, honey."
Shoot him. Now.
With a rusty motherfucking bazooka.
When his three hour shift was finally over, Collin had
frozen fingers, a permanent ringing in his ears, and a bad
case of the growls. He wanted a pizza, a beer and someone to
rub his aching feet. Good thing he was easy to please, and
would settle for best two out of three.
He headed down to the end of the Wal-Mart parking lot,
where he'd parked his truck, and he groaned the minute his
feet left the blacktop. Cowboy boots were not made for
standing on concrete all day. They were made for shit kicking,
which Collin still had to go home and do; his dogs and horses
had been out all day. With his fucking luck, the barn had
burned down.
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Ring My Bell
by B. A. Tortuga
Halfway home, Collin spied something in the middle of the
road. Looked too big to be a coyote, too small to be
someone's cow, but it still had him slamming on the brakes
when he got close. Goddamn. There was a crater in the
damned road, and it was surrounded by bunches of white
feathers, just like someone had hit a chicken truck. A big
assed chicken truck.
Problem was, the only thing in the crater in the road was a
naked dude.
The guy didn't look ... damaged, really. No guts on the
road. No smooshed parts. Just naked.
Naked and muddy as all get out.
Collin crept right up to the side of the hole in the road,
peering down. "Buddy? You, uh ... You need help?"
Bright eyes stared up at him—one blue, one green as a
bottle. "I could use a hand, yeah."
Okay, okay. Weird. Very weird, but the guy was naked,
what harm could he do?
"You need me to call an ambulance? Maybe a
veterinarian?"
"Fuck off, asshole. I've had a long damned day. Just help
me up, would you? I'll make it worth your while." Well, the
guy wasn't from here. There wasn't an accent. One strong,
pale hand was held up, already bruised as hell.
Worth his while. Well, maybe if he did a good deed, he
could get out of bell ringing. He grabbed the guy's hand,
pulling gently.
Feathers fucking went everywhere , the wind coming
sudden and cold. Mr. Pale and Naked was lighter than
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Ring My Bell
by B. A. Tortuga
advertised and just landed in his arms, solid as anything,
back slick with mud.
"Did you sacrifice a chicken?" Collin backed away from the
hole, pulling the man with him, trying not to notice the naked
man parts that kinda ... rubbed all over. "Maybe a turkey?"
Although they didn't make wild turkeys...
"In a manner of speaking, I suppose. My boss and I had a
disagreement about corporate policy. He expressed his
displeasure. I ended up here. He's got a sense of humor."
Jesus. No wonder he wasn't white-collar.
"Your boss shoot you here on a rocket or something?"
There was no car. No bike. No spaceship...
"Now that sounds just like something the big asshole
would do. Look, I have some resources that are off the radar,
so to speak. I don't suppose you'll give me a ride?" Oh, man.
The guy was really filthy.
"Uh." Collin just kept telling himself the guy was naked.
Unless he had a bazooka up his ass, there was no way he
could be dangerous. "Where to?"
"Well, that depends. Where am I?" The wind blew again
and Mr. Naked pushed close.
"North of Dallas." North enough that Dallas was a drive,
and he had those critters to feed...
"Dallas? As in Texas?" Those weird-assed eyes looked up,
lips tightening. "Very funny. I was hoping for closer to Vallejo,
actually. Even Sacramento would have worked."
"Sorry?" Hell, why was he apologizing? He wasn't the one
got himself dumped on the road in Texas. "Look, I can give
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