Disclaimer: The characters are Rowling's. Zack and the plot are mine. No money is being made.
"The time we have been waiting for fast approaches," an unseen male speaker said in a voice like ice water, "In less than one month the seal will be broken and my task will begin in earnest."
"But what about the…the descendant," a tentative voice said. "How will we handle him?"
"A Muggle…he will be easy enough to handle. I saw to that many years ago."
"What about the Brotherhood?"
"The brotherhood is a myth," he snapped. "My destiny is at hand, nothing will stop me. My father will live again!"
Zack woke with a start.
Coffee…I need coffee.
Bleary eyed, Zack awoke to his alarm clock licking his face, which hurt, since the tongue felt like medium grit sandpaper.
"Okay Russell, I know it's time to get up".
"Mrreeoowww!"
"I mean time to feed you, of course."
He set off to the kitchen, not so much as a kitchen as a place to keep the small refrigerator. He grabbed a can of cat food and opened it. The aroma of this particular variety was pungent, but Russell loved it…as the twining between Zack's legs and audible purring from the floor indicated.
"Damn, I forgot again!" Zack exclaimed, looking at an empty coffee pot, "Well, that's just great. I've got a craniosynostosis and a cleft palate today." The cat was unperturbed by his outburst.
Throwing off his bedclothes, he quickly headed to the shower. One thing was for certain, a bedsit surely was convenient -- bed to kitchen to shower in less than 30 steps. He turned on the water and stood in the warm spray for a moment, then quickly soaped his body and shampooed his hair. He started to rinse off.
"Damn, the hot water's gone again…how typical." Rinsing off quickly, he was glad it was August.
Drying off, he noticed the time, swore, threw on his scrubs, and grabbed his keys. The ride to work would dry his hair, he thought, and it gave him that "genius hair" or "mental patient hair" depending on one's point of view. He knew he should wear his helmet, but brushed the thought aside as he reached his bike. He loved his Harley -- an XL 1200 Sportster, not only was it fun to ride, his parents hated it. Not that a soon-to-be 33 year-old really cared about his parents' opinions anymore, except that he did.
He revved the bike up and put on his shades. Boy, the sun sure was bright for Oxford, he thought. He eased onto the street and headed once again to the Oxford Craniofacial Unit based within the Radcliffe Infirmary Hospital. He was lucky, he guessed, that after graduating from Oxford Medical School that he had been offered a position just down the road -- he didn't even have to move. Still, he missed Kansas City sometimes, especially during football season. He bemoaned the lack of information on his favorite football team, the Chiefs. That was "real" football not soccer, though to be honest he enjoyed playing soccer in high school.
He pulled into the hospital's parking garage and checked his watch -- it was 8:10 am. The surgery was at 8:30 am so he had time to get a swallow or two of coffee.
"Hey, Zack, running late again?" a 30-something, redhead shouted across the parking lot.
"Sure am, what else is new? How was your shift, Priscilla?" Zack answered, glad that he actually remembered her name.
"Not bad, I guess, two motorcycle accidents though. No helmet for the first guy, very messy, lots of good organs though. Second bloke will be fine, broken tibia, 40 stitches." She looked pointedly at his bike and at his "wild hair" and slowly shook her head slowly side-to-side.
Zack wanted to believe she was just teasing him and decided to ignore her. He was always amazed at the matter-of-fact way ER doctors could talk about their work. "Nice to see you, I gotta go -- any coffee at reception?"
"You are kidding, right?" She answered amusedly.
Boy, the day was just getting better. "Take care. Tell, Jack I said hey."
"Alright then, I'll tell John you said hello. Take care…and wear a helmet."
Well, I gave it shot. He glanced at his watch, 8:17 am. He walked quickly over the vending machines, bought a coke, and a Snickers candy bar. He wolfed down the candy bar and then downed the soda in two gulps. His eyes teared from the cold and the carbonation, but he needed it. A long satisfactory belch later, he was ready to face the day.
"That was barbaric, Dr. Flood," said a young raven-haired nurse. "What if there had been patients in the waiting room?"
"I checked first," he protested and then winked. "Anyway, I'm in surgery today, and I need a good breakfast."
"But that was nothing like a good breakfast," she chastised.
"I'd love to chat, but I have to run." He moved quickly away down the beige hallway, following the green stripe on the floor.
He entered the pre-op area with only a couple of minutes to scrub. As much as he did this, he never could get used to the antiseptic smell of the chlorhexidine. He saw a nurse entering the room.
"Hey Lois," he said sheepishly. She only nodded in reply and helped him with his gloves and surgical garb
"I lost five bucks on you," she complained. "I bet you'd be late again."
"Oh well, life has its little disappointments."
"Hey team," he said as he entered the operating room. A few mumbled greetings and they went to work. While they prepped the patient, he thought back on the events leading up to this surgery.
His patient was a three-year old boy named Winston Blackmore. Winston's mother had brought him in after he had fallen down and hit his head, causing a strange swelling around the forehead. It was a good thing she did, and it was fortunate that Zack was on duty. As a trained maxillofacial surgeon, he was more sensitive to abnormalities of the skull, and he noticed the early stages of craniofacial synostosis upon examining the boy. Left untreated, it could lead to mental retardation and/or physical deformities. Zack had done this type of surgery several times and was considered an expert in this field. Still, Winston's parents were very nervous, but he was confident that their son would be fine. He always felt more pressure operating on children, as the patient had barely yet to live.
Going over the operation in his head he knew that in this particular instance he needed to remove segments of bone from the skull and then reshape the segments and change their position in such a way as to encourage reliable healing of the bone and thus the soft tissue. He started the procedure, and in his head he saw the following:
"In the anterior synostoses (namely metopic, bicoronal and unicoronal synostosis) the aim is to recreate a symmetrical forehead and orbital rim and to "release" the area of the involved suture and there by allow more normal growth of the skull. The mainstay of this type of surgery is the "fronto orbital advancement and remodelling" procedure whereby the upper aspects of the orbits are freed and advanced unilaterally or bilaterally as appropriate and a more symmetrical forehead is reshaped from the existing or adjacent bone."
Photographic memory came in handy, he thought. Zack knew this was the exact passage in the textbook that he had studied four years ago. Reflecting on this ability, he knew his photographic memory was extraordinary -- he researched it while in high school and found no instances of the seemingly perfect photographic memory he possessed. He brushed those thoughts aside and refocused his efforts back on his small patient. Several hours later, Zack, happy with the results of the surgery, went out and told the parents that little Winston would be fine.
As it turned out, his cleft palate that afternoon had been rescheduled and he'd get to go early.
Perhaps this day wasn't so bad after all, he mused.
On his way out the receptionist stopped him, "Excuse me, Dr. Flood, your mother called."
"What did she say?"
"She said not to forget Bethie's birthday party tomorrow. It starts at 6:00 pm." The receptionist then added, "She said to remind you that Bethie will be 11."
"I knew that, but thanks for the information anyway, Linda," he answered, not too convincingly.
Damn, I thought it was next week. Oh well, at least he would have time to get her a present.
He knew exactly what to get her but first he needed to go to Judo practice and get a workout in. He liked Judo, if for no other reason than it being a physical outlet from the mental focus he kept all day long. It had been over two weeks since he'd been back and he was worried about possible consequences for his seeming apathy. Trying not to think on it, he went home and grabbed his ghi and a swimsuit.
After being thrown to the mat for the fifth time, he swore he'd never miss two weeks in a row again. Of course, his Sensei was a fourth degree black belt and he was just a brown belt plus the teacher obviously felt he needed some reinforcement.
"Oooommmphh", Zack moaned, "that was a nice O Goshi Sensei McGonagall."
"Thank you so much for that assessment Mr. Flood, perhaps if you showed up once in awhile you might be able to block that maneuver," the teacher complained. "However, given your lack of dedication you did surprisingly well," he added.
Even though he was sore, he was grateful that the very first thing Judo teaches is how to fall properly—that saved his behind tonight. He knew a good stretch was in order, and swimming a few laps wouldn't hurt either, and, with that thought in mind, he headed towards the locker room. He finished up a little while later and decided to go buy Bethie's present.
He hoped that Mike Wheeler Motorcycles Ltd. would have motorcycle helmets for kids. It was definitely geared to adults, but he knew Mike never passed up a chance to make a little extra money. Mike's store billed itself as having "a great selection of super-bikes" with plenty in stock. He also offered servicing, repairs, and spare bikes. It was in no way pretentious, which was a definite selling point for Zack. He hoped that Bethie would be surprised -- she had a knack for reading his mind. Of course, he should pick up a back up gift because he couldn't give her the helmet in front of her parents. A new bicycle helmet should fit the bill. Zack remembered that Mike carried those too.
"Hey, Mike, how's business?" Zack inquired as he took off his shades and put them in his shirt pocket. He noticed that there were no other customers in the store, but reminded himself that it was before 5 pm on a Wednesday.
"Could complain, but who'd listen, ay?" Mike answered with a snicker. "What d'ya need?"
"I need a motorcycle helmet for a young girl about 11."
"That's too young, mate. I know you can do better."
"Don't be obscene Mike. It's for my cousin Bethie; you know her."
"Just kiddin' ya mate, o'course I remember her. She's 11 now? Boy, where's the time go? She was in here with yer Mum musta been 5 years ago to get a bicycle," Mike mused. "But I'm sorry to say that I dun have any. The last shipment had all the wrong labels in'em and I had to send em back."
"Anyplace else around here I could go?"
"Not around here, I'm the only one to carry kids stuff -- not much call fer it. I s'pose you could go to London but by the time you get there traffic would be a mess," Mike offered.
"How about a bicycle helmet?" Zack inquired.
"Sure I got some of those, but you know those aren't safe for motorcycles," Mike lectured.
"Oh, I know that I just need to get her something for her birthday," Zack explained.
Zack then bought a purple and pink helmet and proceeded to his parent's house for a bite to eat…unannounced, of course.
Zack was in an odd mood motoring over to his parent's house at Berry Lane, Rickmansworth, Hertfordshire WD3.
Maybe it was the workout maybe not, but his mind was working overtime. Why was he so…so…bored?
Maybe bored was the wrong word but there was something missing. He liked being a surgeon and saving people's lives, but that didn't seem to be enough.
It had been several months since he had a date, but while a little pathetic, he admitted to himself, that wasn't it either.
He also hadn't seen his friends for a while, and he remembered suddenly that today was Wednesday and Barney and Mick would be at the King's Arms.
I should go and see them; maybe that would cheer me up.
"Fuck it, it's a nice day, I'm on my Harley…and I'm talking to myself," Zack finished with a shake of his head.
Still it was nice to get his bike out on a decent trip, 50 km wasn't far but it was a goodly enough distance to open it up a little. All too soon the ride was over and he approached Rickmansworth. It never ceased to amaze him the money that existed in this neighborhood. His parents could afford to live here for two reasons: his dad was a well-respected doctor and both his parents came from well-to-do families.
He pulled into the driveway and saw his mom outside trimming her beloved roses.
"Hi, Mom!" he said, walking over to her.
"This is a nice surprise," she started then stopped. "You know the birthday party is tomorrow… and it's not even here, it's at your Aunt's house."
She put some clippings in a bucket and took off her garden gloves. She reached him brushed back her blondish grey hair and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Just past 60 years old, his mother didn't look much over 50. She still stood straight and tall and measured every bit of her height of 5 foot 9 inches. She was thin, but strong, and her skin tone was a sun-touched cream color.
"Gee, Mom it's good to see you too… and I'm not that absent-minded," he asserted.
She seemed to ignore his protest. "Good, you got my phone call. You know Bethie would be heartbroken if you missed it," she gently chided.
"I did get your phone call, but I already knew."
"Is that why there is a box on your bike labeled girl's bicycle helmet?" She looked at him with raised eyebrows and crossed arms.
"Well, alright you got me. But I know I can always count on you to remind me of these things," he ended lamely.
"I never have been able to figure out how you can read something and it stays in your mind forever, but if I tell you something you're suddenly the absent-minded professor? Do you remember the time you forgot your own birthday party?"
"I'm sure that happens to lots of people," he said as his face started turning pink.
She laughed and said, "You know I love you anyway."
"I love you too Mom …even when you are giving me a hard time."
She approached him and slid her right arm to lock with his left, "You know it is good to see you, honey," she said as they walked towards the front door. "Your father is cooking his famous chicken fried steak tonight. You know it's not too late to make your escape," she said while reaching for the door.
"What and miss all that cholesterol and saturated fats? Never. You know, doctors often have the worst dietary habits," he said, winking at her and smiling.
The house was artfully arranged in what could best be described as Celtic meets English Country house. Manor house sofas with Celtic braided throws were situated in different rooms, Irish braid design area rugs were scattered around the dark oak hardwood floors, and many nick-naks rested on every available . The house was full of books, some old, some new, and some very old. Zack could smell the grease and flour in the air and he could hear his dad humming, Bach was it?
"Erina, is that you? Would you mind heading to the cellar for some wine?" a voice called from the kitchen.
"Yes, it's me Richard; I have a visitor in tow," she answered.
"Oh, would that be our erstwhile son?" his father said, walking out of the kitchen.
"Hi dad, you must have know I was coming…chicken fried steak. What's the occasion?" Zack asked.
"No occasion, just haven't had it in awhile," he answered, eyeing Zack's appearance. "I tried calling over to the hospital to invite you, but they said you left early…you look awful," he added critically.
"Gee thanks, nice to see you too."
"Of course it's nice to see you, but you need to take better care of yourself," his father answered in somewhat softer tones.
Erina interrupted them, "Zack why don't you go a pick out a nice sturdy red for dinner," guiding her son toward the back door.
The wine cellar was only accessible from outside, so Zack headed outside and around the back of the house.
Hmm, he thought, the wine would need to be sturdy to stand up to all that fat and beef.
He pulled up the door and rested it against the patio and went down the steps. He always liked it down here; it was his own personal Narnia. There were several rooms full of wine but a couple of cubbyholes only he knew about behind some rotted pieces of wood. His paternal grandparents owned this house when he was young, and when they visited he liked to pretend he was hiding from some horrible beast or was listening in on secret meetings. He did share his childhood secret with Bethie last year—she liked this dark, musty, spider web infested place almost as much as he did. She had good taste, he concluded.
He looked around for the more recent reds; certainly one would not waste a good red like a Pauilliac on this meal. He selected a 2001 Australian Shiraz and started to head back to the steps, but he tripped on something and fell face-first to the floor. He was able to land on his forearms while at the some time spreading his legs, lessening the impact of the fall considerably. His Judo Sensei would be proud. While he was unharmed, the wine was not so lucky. It had broken into several pieces on the stone floor, its contents sadly sinking into the crevices. Zack picked up the larger pieces of glass and threw them into the trashcan, then grabbed a very old broom and a rusted dustpan and did the best he could to clean up the rest of the pieces. He noticed a strange thing while he was scooping up the last of the glass -- the wine was not just seeping into cracks, it was disappearing underneath a very old rug. Curious, he picked up the rug and…nothing but stone floor.
So where was the wine going, he wondered.
"Zack, where are you? Dinner's on the table," his dad shouted.
"I had a little accident," he called back. "A bottle of the '01 Shiraz died a nasty death".
"A shame, but are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just cleaning up."
"Grab a 2002 Beaujolais, " his dad suggested.
"Alright I'll be right up". Zack put the rug back down, shook his head, grabbed the wine and went back up the stairs.
"Zack you better let me open that," his Mother chastised, as she took the bottle from him and into the kitchen.
"Oh Mom, you might want to have a look at the floor in the wine cellar. It might be unstable. When I was cleaning up, I noticed the wine sinking right into the floor."
"Probably the entrance to a secret cave…quick let's get your spelunking gear," she said sarcastically.
"No need to be snarky about it," Zack retorted.
"I'm sorry honey, but you know how old this house is. It's bound to have its eccentricities. I'll have a look tomorrow, just in case."
Zack and his dad proceeded to the dining room where the natural black oak table was set for three.
"How are things at the hospital?" his dad asked.
"Same ole, same ole," Zack answered automatically.
"Have you been sleeping?" His dad questioned, with a modicum of concern in his voice.
"I'm fine, just had a rousing Judo lesson today. The sensei was my partner and he wasn't thrilled that I'd missed a couple of sessions." Zack winced and stretched his arms and cracked his neck.
"That's Manus McGonagall isn't it? He's a good man, tough, and no nonsense. The whole family is that way. Dear, didn't you go to school with one of the McGonagalls?" his dad shouted toward the kitchen.
"Yes, I went to primary school in Monahan, Ireland with his youngest sister Murran. That whole family was tough. Murran, being the youngest, was the nicest, but still tough." Mom was now entering the dining room with the open bottle of wine. "But the oldest daughter Minerva was definitely in charge. No one messed with her. But thankfully she went away to school and so was only home for holidays and the summer."
"Thanks for all of that fascinating information," Zack added, rolling his eyes, "but I'm hungry." With that Zack set to it, eating with relish. He didn't cook much—the two-burner stove not being very good, so he mostly ate at pubs or took food home.
"You certainly are talkative tonight, son" his dad chastised, after a few minutes of silence.
"I'm sorry. My mind has been all over the place today. I'm not sure why." Zack wiped his mouth and took a long drink of wine.
"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just dive right in." His parents exchanged concerned looks and sat up a little straighter. "Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing…with my life, that is?"
"Why son, I'm not sure what you mean?" his dad said while taking off his glasses and looking down at the table.
"Zack, are you talking about your destiny?" Erina offered tentatively.
"Yeah, I guess. I don't know really. I've just been doing some soul-searching recently and I feel kind of…lost. It's silly I know, probably just a case of the blues." Zack ended lamely, then added, "Why did you use the word 'destiny' just now?"
"Just the first word to pop in my head, that's all," she answered quickly. "Do you think therapy might help?" His mother continued. "You know, I have several friends that are excellent therapists."
"They're part of your Wicca group, right? No offense, but I think I'll decline. I'll be fine," he added and finished off his glass of wine. He refilled it and then sat back down. The rest of dinner was uneventful as each person stayed on safe topics of conversation.
After they finished eating and had cleared the table his mother said, "Zack how about a nice glass of tawny in the den?"
"No, that's okay. I promised Barney and Mick I would meet them at the King's Arms for an ale or two."
"Dear, your Father and I would like to talk to you for a minute," she said, a hint of worry in her voice.
"Alright," Zack answered warily. Then she and Zack walked into the den, Zack took a seat in the red leather loveseat as his mother filled three glasses with a honey colored liquid. She brought one over to Zack and took one for herself. She sat in the Queen Anne chair next to the loveseat.
"Your Father should be here in a moment," she said drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair.
What is going on? He took a drink from the glass -- he always liked a glass of port after dinner, it was so civilized. He looked at his watch again and smiled wanly at his mother.
"Everyone comfortable?" his father said, walking into the room. He picked up his glass of port, took a sip and sat down on the matching Queen Anne next to his wife. "Zack there is no need to look so serious," he said.
"Then…what is this about?" Zack asked getting up and refilling his glass.
His mom sipped from her glass and spoke. "We haven't talked to you in a long time. Frankly, we are a little worried about you. You don't seem very happy and you seem tired all the time."
Zack looked at his parents, paused, took a sip and set the glass on the end table, next to the Tiffany lamp. "Uhh, we touched on it earlier. I feel like I'm…treading water would be an apt description." They shook their heads and his father looked like he was about to speak, "No, wait, let me think about this for a minute," Zack said. What the hell am I going to say now? It was true he did feel a little down and he was tired -- he wasn't sleeping well in recent nights. "I haven't been sleeping well lately," he said finally.
"Have you tried Melatonin, it works great for me." His father said clinically.
"No, that's not it. I don't have trouble falling asleep. I just wake up tired. But it's not affecting my work so I'm hoping it's some kind of phase." He looked at his watch again—this was going nowhere fast. "Well, if that's all I should go, it's starting to get late and I'd like spend some time with Barney and Mick." He started to get up and they stood up as well. "Thanks for dinner -- it was great. I'll see you tomorrow night at Aunt Felecia's."
"Um okay, it's been nice to see you. Be careful on that thing you ride. You know what we call those don't you?" His dad lectured, seemingly a little put off.
"I know -- a heart transplant patient's dream, or something else just as morbid." Zack intoned while getting up and heading for the door.
"Really be careful…and wear a helmet," his mother added while walking him to the door.
"Alright I promise to wear my helmet." Zack kissed his Mom on the cheek, "Bye dad, great chicken fried steak. See you tomorrow." But he couldn't help but wonder, why do I feel my parents are hiding something?
Zack set off to Oxford to surprise Barney and Mick. He fibbed a little when he made it sound like they were expecting him, tonight.
He did say that one day soon he would meet them for their regular Wednesday night at the King's Arms. Of course, that was over a month ago but better late than never.
He started thinking back to when he first arrived in Oxford from Kansas City. He expected there to be pubs on every corner and that they would be open all night long.
While there were a goodly number of pubs, they all closed at 11 pm. Most bars in the States don't even get going until near midnight.
During his med schools days he frequented several of the pubs around town: the Grapes, the Bear (known for its many neckties on the walls, heaven knows why), the Rosie O'Grady, and the Eagle and the Child, a favorite haunt of J.R.R Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Having read the Ring trilogy and Narnia series, this was a cool place to hang out. But he liked the King's Arms the best, mostly because of the Morris Dancers, "old guys" waving handkerchiefs and prancing around with jingle bells on their ankles accompanied by accordion music. No one knew for sure, but the dance was thought to be some ancient fertility and/or good luck ritual. In any case, it was fun to see and the pub was one of the larger pubs as well, increasing one's chances of "finding some companionship." The pub had several long tables, and, if you got there early enough, you could establish yourself at a table and hopefully attract others to join you.
He parked his bike and headed for the door. He walked in to a goodly number of students, smoke, noise, laughter, drinking.
Zack exhaled, "This was a good idea."
"Excuse me?" said a twenty-something red-haired girl who entered the bar right after him.
Cute, he thought, looking her over – average height, short hair, and a nice smile. "Sorry, it's been a long time since I've been here and I just…just…I guess I was thinking out loud," Zack ended lamely.
"That's nice. I like this place too. You a student?" she asked.
"Was, graduated from Oxford Med five years ago."
"So, you're a doctor…what kind?" she asked, warming up.
He'd seen that look before and decided caution may be called for. "A maxillofacial surgeon," Zack answered, while starting to look for his friends. He spied them in the corner watching him. Great, just what he needed.
"A surgeon, that sounds demanding. I'm studying for my masters in English, medieval literature," she responded.
"That doesn't sound like a piece of cake, either. I hate to interrupt, but I'm actually here to meet some friends. If you don't mind, I see them now," Zack said a little uncomfortably.
"Sure, it was nice to meet you," she said, annoyed.
"I'm sorry I've been so rude. My name is Zack," he said shaking his head and turning to face her.
"Jenny," she said brightening a little.
"I tell you what, I'll find my friends, and if you would still like to talk, I'll come find you...okay?"
"Alright, I'll be over at the bar getting a Courage," she said while walking away.
I must be crazy; she was really pretty. He made his way over to his friends who had commandeered one of the large tables.
"Rotten luck mate, I thought you had her fer sure," a tall and skinny black haired man said, drinking from his glass.
"Thanks Barney, your sympathy means so much," Zack answered sarcastically. "And don't you have anything to add Mick." Zack turned to face the other man at the table, a bearded man with a reddish brown ponytail.
"Not me mate, just wondering why you didn't invite her over to the table," Mick offered. Zack looked away and Mick added, "My guess, you're outta practice. It's a shame really," Mick continued while looking over at Barney, "a handsome man like this not knowing how to pick-up a girl."
"If you must know, I came here to hang out with you guys, not pick up a girl."
"Oh really, that's nice…you're further gone than I thought," Mick ended shaking his head. "What do you think Barney?"
"Tis sad indeed, but what can you expect from a surgeon? Working all day and night, no time for friends much less some female companionship," Barney added in an exaggerated mournful manner.
"Enough, guys. Who needs one?" Zack surrendered, gesturing to their empty drinks.
"Now that's the Zack we know." Barney brightened. "Go a fetch us some ale, boy."
"And some wenches." Mick added.
Zack headed over to the bar and got three John Courage Ambers. He looked around like anyone does when they are at a bar and waiting for their drinks to be pulled. The patrons all looked so young -- was I ever that young? He spotted Jenny seated at a table with two girls and three guys.
Alas, he thought, at least we had…the doorway.
He chuckled at his own foolishness as the bartender gave him the glasses. He handed over a 50 Pound note and got his change.
After setting down the beers, he noticed that his friends were exchanging furtive glances with a group of five girls. He noticed some definite giggling and whispering going on.
"You guys never change," Zack said shaking his head.
"And why in the world would we?" Barney asked.
"Oh, I don't know…for the hell of it?" Zack offered.
"Don't you remember we're conservatives mate; when something works, we stick with it." Mick said while winking over at the other table. "Don't you remember how the three of us met up?"
"How can I ever forget? You 'recruited' me to play in your weekly poker game." Stroking his chin, Zack then said, "Let's see: Barney saw poor, old lonely me, an American far from home, in the library on a weekend and decided to take pity on me."
"Easy mate, you're makin' me weepy," Barney said while feigning some tears.
"As I remember you couldn't wait to lose your money, er, play some cards. You were down right grateful." Mick chipped in.
"I admit I was grateful…at first. Then you proceeded to fleece me out a month's stipend. All I could afford to eat were toast with tinned beans and Pot Noodles for a month," he complained, "I think I may have done permanent damage to my liver."
"You know what they say, suffering is good for the soul…or builds character, or some such rubbish." Barney said straight-faced and proceeded to take a long drink from his glass.
"You remember our little experiment your second year?" Mick asked.
"I'll never forgive myself for telling you guys about my photographic memory," Zack said mournfully.
"Hey, it was your idea we were just lending a hand…and our car." Barney said innocently.
"I was just curious as to whether I could memorize a book if I read it while I was drunk. I didn't ask to be stripped down to my underwear and dumped in an unknown field." Zack said looking at Mick and then Barney in turn.
"Yes, you did…I swear," Mick said holding his hand over his sternum.
"Your heart is a little higher," Zack said a gestured for Mick to slide his hand upwards a bit, "and I still don't believe you."
Barney protested, "We told you a million times, inside the magazine article you read, I wrote a note instructing you to walk into the woods straight ahead of you and wait until 10:15 AM when we would pick you up. It's not our fault you decided to ignore it and instead walk up to the dean's mother's house to ask where you were."
"The Dean made my life hell after that. The old lady fainted dead away…she really did. And here I was in my underwear, seriously hung-over, trying to decide whether to catch her or just run away. To make amends, I washed his car for the rest of the semester." Mick and Barney were laughing openly by this point and Zack couldn't help but join them. "But why the clothes?" Zack asked, still chuckling.
"I thought that'd be obvious mate…incentive," Mick said and that started a fresh round of laughter. Mick finished off his ale and volunteered to go and get the next round.
Zack noticed Barney making eyes at the table of girls again, especially at the tall red head that seemed to be looking over at their table. "I see you are still into red-heads," Barney nodded not taking his eyes away from the other table. "Whatever happened to -- what was her name, Amanda…Amelia?"
Barney turned to face Zack and said, "It was Amelia. A sad story…she became ill, and I had to leave her."
Zack was stunned by the seeming indifference in his statement, "What did she have?" he asked in disbelief.
"A terminal case of commitment."
"You bastard! I swear you get me every time with that dead-pan delivery," Zack said, hitting Barney in his right arm with the back of his hand.
"Ouch, be careful. You know how sensitive I am," Barney said, feigning injury.
"Oh, shut up. I need to make a deposit in the urine bank," Zack said getting up from the table. He glanced at the table of girls and noticed that the pretty brunette with a rack looking over at him -- probably just wishful thinking. He passed Mick on his way back from the bartender.
"You goin' to drain the lizard?" Mick asked.
"Yep, I'll be right back."
Coming back from the bathroom he groaned inwardly as he approached the table. Barney and Mick had invited the group of five girls to join them. Now that he could see them up close he guessed they were all likely undergrads, and they were just as cute he thought. Why the hell not? He wasn't a priest -- he'd just been kind of acting like one for awhile.
"There he is girls, the man of the hour," Mick gestured towards him. The girls all looked toward him with a mix of interest and incredulousness. That could only mean one thing…
"Mick, you didn't?" Zack groaned and sat down across from the pretty brunette.
"Oh, yes, I did. You have a gift mate, and you need to use it or lose it." Mick smiled at him and then at the girls. "Let me introduce these lovely ladies: Carrie," gesturing towards the pretty brunette Zack had noticed earlier, "Sheila, Maude, Linda, and last but certainly not least Fiona", the red head that Barney had been ogling. Each girl in turn smiled at Zack, but he noticed that Carrie seemed a little shy when Zack met her eyes.
Nice, Zack thought.
Sheila spoke first, "Barney told us you remember every word of everything you've ever read."
"Well, not everything, but almost everything." Zack answered, defeated. He, Barney, and Mick had played this game all through medical school. Mick would talk to a group of girls into testing him -- they would be suitably amazed, and bingo, companionship for the evening. Zack looked around and noticed they were starting to lose interest.
"You know what," Zack added, with a good deal more enthusiasm and the table perked up too, "let's have some fun." He turned towards Carrie who had a copy of Les Miserables in front of her, "I bet you a kiss on the cheek that I can quote verbatim any part of that book."
Blushing, Carrie looked at her friends who were all urging her on. She picked her book and said, "How about page 158?"
"Different books have different pages numbers, pick a section if you please," Zack answered with a flourish.
After a moment looking at the book she spoke up, "Okay then, Fantine, Book Five, chapter II," she challenged with a smile.
Damn she is cute, and I'd bet my bike those breasts are real. He turned his eyes away from her yellow v-neck t-shirt and took a deep breath.
His right elbow on the table he started to massage his chin with his thumb and index finger. "Just so you know, I last read this book over 10 years ago." It never hurt to add a little dramatic effect, he thought amusedly. The girls murmured among themselves in anticipation.
"Fantine, Book Five, chapter II: Madeleine.
A man of about fifty, he was good-natured but always seemed preoccupied; this was all that could be said about him."
Zack looked at the girl's astounded expressions as they were all gathered around the book. Mick and Barney were laughing and giving Zack the thumbs up.
"Thanks to the rapid progress of this industry, which he had so successfully recast, Montreuil-sur-mer had become a good sized business center."
"Do I need to continue?" he asked in a somewhat pompous manner. The girls all stared at him open-mouthed.
Linda spoke first and a little unsurely, "This has to be a trick somehow. Maybe it's only this book. You did see the book in plain sight, after all."
Mick answered her, "Any book you like, girlie, as long as he's read it, o'course. But, first I think Carrie owes Zack a little smooch, ay?" Mick said with a wink.
Carrie rose slowly and leaned over the table. Better not ogle, Zack reminded himself. She stood about 5' 3 and seemed to be physically fit. Zack turned his head and pointed to his cheek and, blushing, Carrie kissed it quickly and sat down. The girls were all laughing, except for Linda, who was still skeptical.
Zack issued another challenge. "This time you pick the book and, if I've read it, I'll do it again. But this time Linda you kiss Barney, Sheila you kiss Mick," Mick winked at Zack, he always had liked raven haired women, "and both Maude and Fiona kiss me." Barney threw a jealous look Zack's way and Zack just smiled back at him.
"What about me?" Carrie spoke up a pouting exaggeratedly.
"I get to kiss you properly," Zack proposed.
"That's a deal," Carrie concluded and the girls started rummaging through their book bags, with their backs to Zack. He was pretty sure the book came from Carrie's backpack.
While they were looking and discussing, Zack leaned in a little closer to Mick and Barney and said, "How do you guys possibly get any girls if I'm not here?"
"We just use our prodigious charm, don't ya know?" Barney replied.
This was fun, Zack thought, as they waited. He needed to get out with people again. Talking ones anyway -- patients tend to be a little 'shy' when they are on the operating table.
Fiona turned to him and said, "We've decided. Have you read Pride and Prejudice?"
Interesting choice, he thought, at once testing his memory and his "sensitivity."
Jane Austen was not an author many men read. Today there were movies for women, i.e. "chick flicks," but back in her day she wrote "chick books." He had happened to read this book as well as Sense and Sensibility. He noticed this book was more than a bit tattered around the edges.
"Yes, I've read that one. Do your worst," Zack intoned with an exaggerated arrogant air. He noticed that Carrie was perceptibly more interested.
"Okay, here goes. Volume III, Chapter XVII, paragraphs 5 through 7." Sheila spoke slowly and exactly, trying to gauge Zack's reaction.
"Verrryyy interesting," no one ever got Laugh-In humor over here, Zack thought to himself. "Are you ready?" he paused for dramatic effect, "Here goes:" "This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged."
"Jane looked at her doubtingly. "Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much you dislike him."
"You know nothing of the matter. That is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable." Zack shook his finger at them at this point and clicked his tongue. They all laughed. "This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself."
Zack bowed as they table applauded his performance.
Mick pulled him over and said in his "sweet" way, "If you can't close the deal now, you should ashamed of yerself."
Sure enough Carrie could hardly contain herself. So he sidled around to the other side of the table and kissed her quickly on the mouth and sat next to her.
She smiled, and kissed him back, "You are amazing. I've never seen anything like that in my life."
Then Fiona and Maude came over and kissed him on each cheek. Carrie didn't look too pleased but seemed to laugh along with everyone else.
"Would suggesting you go and buy us some ale be pushing it?" Zack said giving her his most disarming smile.
It had the effect he wanted. She grabbed her purse and her friend Fiona, and they walked over the bar -- Carrie looking back twice, no three times.
Barney noticed Zack looking and said suggestively, "That is some ass, ain't it? And the rest ain't bad either."
Zack groaned, "Must you be so perverse, and please speak proper English. You're a Ph.D. in English Lit for Christ's sake."
"What would be the fun in that? I'd scare all of these nice undergrads away," Barney said winking and then switching his attention back to Fiona, as she and Carrie returned.
The rest of the night went as most do in bars -- drinking, carousing, bad jokes, and wondering when to "make the move." It had been a long time since he had done this. But he didn't have to worry about what to say.
"How about we get out of here? My flat is just 10 minutes from here. Do you have a car?" Carrie whispered in Zack's ear at the same time flicking her tongue and putting her hand against his inner thigh.
Zack had no thoughts at all…well just one, "Good night all, we are going…"
"Yes?" Mick chimed in grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"We…are going to see a man about a horse," Zack turned a little red. What the hell am I saying?
"Don't worry about it, luv." She whispered to him and then spoke up to the group "Bye everyone. Zack is going to show me his etchings." Carrie grinned, stuck her tongue out at the group, and grabbed Zack's arm and pulled him towards the door. The group left at the table broke into fits of laughter.
Zack and Carrie stumbled out the door, laughing and clinging onto each other.
"My etchings?" Zack said incredulously.
"Oh shut up. Like you were doing any better," Carrie teased.
"I was just about ready to wow them with a brilliant reason for our departure," Zack lied.
"Yeah right," Carrie said, giving him an incredulous look.
Zack winced exaggeratedly and clutched his hands to his chest and swooned.
"That's enough of that," she said, grabbed his arm, pulled him to her and kissed him passionately.
"That was nice," Zack breathed once they parted.
"Where's your car?" she asked in a huskier voice.
"I have a motorcycle, the Harley over there." He pointed to his bike a few meters away.
"That's too cool. I've never been on a motorbike before. Is it dangerous?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
"Not if you know what you are doing. You just need to hold on to me tight. Can you remember that?" Zack said mischievously.
"I think so," she purred.
They proceeded to her flat, where they literally attacked each other once they got inside the door. In between kisses and gropes, he noticed subconsciously that this flat seemed large for just one person…he hoped they wouldn't be interrupted. He had his right hand up her T-shirt and was gently squeezing her left breast. Carrie moaned and he felt her stick her tongue in his ear.
"Where's the bed?" Zack was able to say with some difficulty. For some reason, his vocal cords never worked right with a tongue in his ear and a hand massaging his crotch.
"This way," she said not bothering to stop tonguing his ear. She led him to a door in the right corner of the flat.
Once in her bedroom they separated long enough for him to take off his shirt and for her to take off hers. A lamp was on so he could see.
Good, he thought, he hated fucking in the dark. He eyed her large chest with blind lust and proceeded to slide his hand under the bra. Thank the goddess it was a sports bra with no clips…he hated those damn clasps. He knew they were designed to make any man look like an idiot while attempting to undo them. He started to bring his other hand up towards the bra.
"Wait a minute, let me," she said breathlessly. She smiled at him and slowly slipped her bra over her head.
"Wow," Zack exclaimed and wondered if he said it out loud. Based on her look of appreciation he guessed he did.
She slinked over to him and grabbed his head and put it against her breasts, and they fell onto the bed. She had large tan areolas and nipples and they were hard as rocks. She was definitely excited, Zack was glad to see, not that he doubted it, but it was still good to have confirmation. He traded off licking, sucking both nipples, with the occasional nibble. He heard her breathing heavily and moaning at each nibble.
Sensitive breasts – excellent, he thought. After a few moments of this she grabbed his head and pulled it up to hers and kissed him open-mouthed – their tongues intertwining.
He felt her hand slide down to his jeans and undo the belt and the zipper, with one hand.
Very talented this one, Zack thought and smiled. Then she got to her knees on the bed tossed her hair and preceded to pull his pants off.
She smiled, "No underwear, I like that," and he had no reason to doubt her as she grabbed his engorged cock and started to stroke him. Zack moaned.
God damn, that felt good, he thought, stretching his neck involuntarily. Then she took him in her mouth and sucked his cock, while at the same time massaging his balls.
"Oh shit," Zack exclaimed, "that feels great. Please don't stop."
She looked up at him with his cock still in her mouth.
Damn, that was sexy, he thought, and she said, "I think it's your turn," slowly disengaging herself.
She took off her pants and underwear, and lay down on the bed. She was rubbing her legs together and Zack was willing to bet she was wet, very wet. He gave her his best you-are-going-to-love-this grin and started to softly kiss the top of her foot while at the same time massaging her right calf. Then he switched legs and saw that Carrie was positively squirming. He started to move his way up with soft kisses and wandering hands, no "leaping for the clitoris" for this boy, he thought and smiled again. He knew this would drive her insane, but seeing as how she was maybe 21, he didn't do his normal 20-minute version…she might explode, literally. Suddenly he thought of something,
"Have you ever had a multiple orgasm?" Zack said, practically oozing sex…and not stopping his hands or his lips. She looked up at him with lust in her eyes.
"N..n..no." She stuttered and added shyly, "I haven't ever had an orgasm during sex, only…well you know by myself," she finished still squirming.
"I can tell you for certain," kiss, little tongue on the inner thigh, slip the hand just over the pubic hair, "you will definitely have at least one orgasm tonight."
That seemed to be too much for her as she tried to grab him, "Please, please fuck me. FUCK ME NOW!" she begged.
But instead, Zack opened her legs slowly with his hands and then put his right hand over her sopping wet pussy and she shrieked, "Ohhhhhh, shit." He could feel her quivering all over.
This was fun, Zack smirked.
Then he slipped his middle finger into her slowly. She arched her back and a stuttering moan escaped her.
Damn, I'm good.
Next, he slipped his thumb up towards her clitoris and rubbed it gently while still keeping his finger inside her.
"Oh, please, please, please…" He knew she was about to orgasm, so he slowed down his movements to extend the length of the orgasm. She was going crazy and tossing her head side-to-side and breathing very hard. Zack decided to stop the "sweet torture" and increased the speed just little. That did it, she stopped tossing her head and looked at him, her face was all red, and suddenly arched her back and screamed and bucked her hips up and down, finally closing her legs.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, she spoke, "Ummmmm, you are amazing!"
She sat up with some difficulty and grabbed Zack and kissed him ferociously, pushing him onto his back.
"I want you inside me NOW!" She straddled him and lowered herself onto his throbbing penis. "Ooooohhhh," she moaned as she started to go up and down on him.
"That's nice Carrie, real good," Zack said breathily. Then he reached up and grabbed both of her spectacular breasts. She picked up the pace.
"That's it, squeeze my tits. Oh YES, just like that," she exclaimed almost angrily.
Zack started to pinch her nipples and a few seconds later Carrie had another orgasm. She couldn't continue to ride him in her condition, so Zack carefully moved out from under her and put her on her hands and knees. He loved doing it doggy-style -- he loved the shape and feel of a woman's ass. He gently kneaded her buttocks and slid his cock into her again. She was not as tight as she had been.
Two earth-shattering orgasms will do that, he mused.
Still it felt great as he pushed in and pulled out, while Carrie moaned. After a few minutes, Carrie started to thrust back onto his cock. Now this felt good.
"Oh, that's great, keep doing that," he said.
He picked up the pace and Carrie came again and this time Zack did too, audibly groaning with each wave of his orgasm. He finally shivered while pulling his cock out. Carrie surprised him by turning over and taking him full in her mouth.
"Oh FUCK. Uh huh, yes suck that dick, oh YESS!" Damn she was good, Zack thought appreciably.
They collapsed in a heap on her bed. She snuggled up to him and he kissed her forehead, as she fell immediately asleep in his arms. Just barely reaching the bedside lamp he clicked it off. Snoozing for a minute or two would be fine, he convinced himself.
Special thanks goes out to Crow, Juliane and Lillith for their beta skills. Thanks, ladies.