Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder Chapter 61: Chris and Epilogue This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywild@aol.com ======================================== CHRIS "I think she's coming around." "Here. Lift up her head. I'll see if she'll drink some." "Probably not a good idea to move her until we find out what's wrong." "Whatever you say, sonny." . . .soft, fuzzy images of movement, swimming. . . . . .the pounding again. . . . . .couldn't someone answer the door. . .? . . .the world's spinning. . . . . .who's there. . .? . . .the door is open. . .? . . .what's pounding. . .? . . .it gets louder. . . . . .pounding. . . It's her head. A hand on her head, stroking her hair. The kitchen table is above her. She is stretched out on the floor, its hard surface against her head, back, legs. She tilts her head up, but the sunlight from the kitchen window is too bright, hurting her eyes, making her head pound even more. A sudden jolt of something in her neck tells her she shouldn't move around too much. She raises her right hand to cover her eyes and it passes across a thigh, very large and solid. She goes back for a second check. Bare skin. Higher up, the frayed edges of a pair of cut-offs. And just a few centimeters higher, a huge bulge beneath the fabric. "Not sure what it is your looking for, but I don't think you'll find it there." Wanna bet? "I believe you fell and hit your head. I got the super to let me in. Can you hear me okay?" Nice voice. Feels like a deep, clear mountain spring pouring over her mind. And is that just the hint of a British accent? "Are you all right?" Give me a second to get the mouth working. "I'm. . . I'm. . . okay." "We've called the ambulance. (Ambulance!?) They should be here in a few minutes. What's your name?" "Uh. . . Chris." "Good. Do you know where you are, Uh-Chris?" "Yeah. In my apartment. Number. . . six-oh-eight. You." "I'm your new neighbor. I was moving my stuff in when I heard you fall." "Arnold." "Who's Arnold?" "You." "No, sorry. Arnold's not here. I'm Jerry." "Jerry." "Short term memory's working. That's a good sign, too. Do you have anyone you'd like us to call? Anyone you want to meet you at the hospital?" "Jerry." "That's me. Any family?" "Jerry. You come, okay?" "Okay, Uh-Chris." Followed by a deep, pleasant chuckle. Her right hand wanders up across the bulge beneath the denim, lingers on the ripples of the abdomen, traces the lower extremity of the pectoral and then explores the mound of deltoid. "Where's Ed?" "Ed? I don't know. I just moved in today, so I don't know anyone here." "Ed. Your Ed." "Maybe you'd better relax and not try too much activity. We'll get you to the hospital, then we'll find your friends for you." Her hand drops back to her head, rolls off and again lands on the bulge within the cut-offs. "Eleven-and-a-half." "I'm sorry. What?" Amusement. Slight incredulity. "Eleven-and-a-half, right?" Again a warm chuckle, good-natured and full. The monster stirs beneath the fabric. "Whatever you say, Uh-Chris. Whatever you say." Well. . . he didn't deny it. EPILOGUE "You, know, Ed. There's only one thing that bothers me about this whole deal." "What's that, Arn?" "How come I gotta wait until the second to the last chapter to finally get that gorgeous cock of your up my ass?" "Hey. Don't talk to me about it. You don't like the way it turned out, go knock your own head against the ice box." "I think we'd better just walk quietly into the sunset, Ed." "Is this where you say 'I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship?'" "That's fog, Ed, not a sunset." "Oh, right. Well. After you." "No. After you." "No, no, no. After you." "Oh, noooo. After you. . ."