Blackfeather
6 Fight
“DEMON RAMIE, come to me. Help me in my time of need!”
What the fuck? Where am I?
“You came!”
Miranda?
“Help me, Ramie. They’re after me.”
Who?
“I don’t know. He grabbed me and I ran. There he is!” She was panicked and backing into a corner. This wasn’t good.
“Aye, little miss. You’ll make a fine toffer,” a voice growled. A grizzled man came down the narrow alley toward us. Miranda turned to run again and tripped over her dropped basket. He grabbed her arm in one hand and her waist in the other. The war was fought to end black slavery but no one did much to stop the kidnapping of young women to press them into service in western brothels.
Let me drive.
“What does . . .?”
Don’t fight me! I took control of her body so suddenly that Miranda was as startled at her loss of control as at our aggressor’s actions. I slammed an elbow back into our attacker. I lifted my right foot and stomped with Miranda’s sturdy-heeled shoe on the man’s instep. He howled. I spun to face him as he hopped on one foot and saw the knife at his belt. Instead of running, I stepped toward him and grabbed the blade, jabbing it into his stomach. I wrenched it free and jumped back, nearly falling over the stupid basket again.
“If you get that tended to at once, you might not die,” I said with Miranda’s voice. The man looked up at me in horror as he saw his own blood dripping from his knife. He fell. I guessed it was too late for a doctor. If anyone found us, we’d be the ones hung. I scooped up our basket, wiped the blade on his back, and rushed away. I dropped the knife into the basket so it wasn’t visible and walked hurriedly toward the noise of a market.
Miranda! Where are we? The poor girl was in shock.
“Baltimore,” she answered weakly.
I don’t care what city. Do you have a home here? Can we get to it?
“Yes.” She hesitated as we looked around. “That way.” She didn’t move. Fuck! I started walking.
You’d better keep telling me which way to go if you ever want to get home again.
I was a little snappish, but fuck! I’d just killed a man! I wasn’t feeling all that charitable.
What happened back there? Why were you out alone?
“I went to the market to get fish for dinner. A trawler had just come in. I got turned around when I left the market and then that man started chasing me. Then I summoned you and you saved me. Thank you, Demon Ramie.”
Damn it, Miranda. I’m not a demon. You can’t summon me.
“But you came!”
Well, I was coming when I got here but you kinda spoiled that.
“Ramie, I will call you by whatever name you wish. I will hide your presence. You have saved my life and I will ever be your obedient servant.”
I don’t want any obedient servants. Is this the place?
“Yes. We will enter by the kitchen door to give the fish to Charlotte. But… she’ll see the knife.”
I pulled it out of the basket. Just looking at it made me sick. I tried to give her body back to Miranda but she was as repulsed as I was. We threw up in the alley. And then threw up again.
“Heavens, girl!” a woman said from the kitchen door. “You are ill!”
“Yes, Charlotte,” Miranda said. “I don’t feel well all of a sudden.” She stood and I snatched the knife behind her back. Miranda handed the basket to Charlotte. “Here is the fish.”
“You’ll not be eating this fish tonight. I’ll bring you broth in your room. Go at once and get in bed!”
Miranda and I were only too happy to comply with the cook’s command.
It was over. The adrenalin ebbed from Miranda’s body as we fell onto the bed and fevered shakes replaced it.
I killed a man.
I didn’t feel grown up enough to kill anyone. Why did I have to come back here? Tears ran from our eyes. Miranda felt the same things I had. It might have been my mind driving it, but I’d used her body. Not only was I a murderer, I’d made her one as well. The exhaustion and terror caught up with me and we slept where we landed on the bed.
I heard the latch on the door and quickly shoved the knife under Miranda’s pillow.
“Miranda? I brought you some broth. Charlotte said I should stay here until you drank it all.” Miranda rolled to her back and sat up. I saw the girl for the first time.
Caitlin!
“Thank you, Theresa.” Miranda accepted the cup of broth and brought it to her lips. I looked over the rim into the girl’s eyes.
No, it wasn’t Caitlin. There was no recognition there as I had experienced when I saw Kyle in Washington. It was just the girl’s striking blonde hair and beauty that made me think of my little sister. I thought they were about the same age.
“Charlotte said you were ill on the way back from the market. They would not let me come see you until now.” I rummaged around in Miranda’s head, demanding to know who this girl was. Miranda stayed focused and drank the almost tasteless broth. Might as well have just boiled water out of the bay.
“I do not know what came over me, dear,” Miranda said. “I am sure I will be better soon. I may be asleep when you come to bed.”
“I will be quiet. Father and Miss Dolly want me to sit at dinner with them. I will come to bed afterward. Do you need help getting dressed for bed?”
“No, Theresa. Here. Take the cup and tell Mother and Mr. Jonathan that I am improving. Thank you.” The girl took the cup and leaned in to give Miranda a peck on the cheek. When she was gone, Miranda let out a breath as if she’d been holding it the whole time the girl was in the room.
Who was she?
“Theresa. My stepsister. Please do not possess her! My mother and her father were married in Washington after you possessed me. Where did you go?”
I went home. And I have no desire to possess anyone.
“Did you suffer when you returned? I was upset with you, but I do not wish you to be tormented in hell.”
Miranda, home is the 21st century. If I’m suffering, it is when I am here.
“I am sorry. Demon Ramie, I release you from my summons to return from whence you came.” She sounded so contrite. I couldn’t help feel a fondness for her. I’d just saved her life, I guess.
Please, Miranda. Stop calling me a demon. I already told you that you can’t summon and dismiss me. It just doesn’t work that way.
“Yet you were… That was… He was…”
I killed him. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to protect you. Maybe I am a demon.
I was weeping again and the tears flowed down Miranda’s cheeks as she undressed and prepared for bed. My emotions were so out of control. If I’d had my own body I’m sure I would have passed out from overload. I didn’t know how Miranda could handle it. She pulled on a nightgown and then pulled her chemise out from under it. At least she didn’t have a bra to contend with. Her bloomers followed and she slipped beneath the covers of her bed.
“You are right,” Miranda said gently. She spoke aloud. “I know not what kind of spirit you are, but you saved my life. Please accept my apology.”
It’s nothing. I didn’t believe any of it, either. How could I expect you to? Maybe it’s easier to accept a spirit riding in your head than an actual person from a different time.
“Am I a murderer, De… Ramie? My hand. I took this knife,” she pulled the blade from under her pillow. “I can still feel what it was like to plunge it into him. I will go to hell.”
You had no alternative and no choice. When it was done, it was my hand. If anyone is going to hell it is me. He would have raped and killed us, or even worse have sold us to a brothel.
“Us.”
I’m sorry. It was your body that would have suffered, but what you feel, I feel.
Miranda was still trying to grasp having another person in her head. I’d at least been prepared a little. I knew what to expect, even though I didn’t believe it. Did I believe it now? Or was it all a dream? If only Kyle had confirmed my first trip when I saw him. But he didn’t admit to traveling at all. Damn him!
“Is that called driving?” she asked. She was still working on me being in her body and taking control.
Driving means… well, in my time we drive cars. I suppose here we have carriage drivers. It’s the one who takes the reins and controls things.
“Tell me when you wish to drive. How did you learn… to kill?”
I never learned that. I’ve been rassling with my brother for years. It’s a different world where I come from and we live on a ranch. You learn to throw a calf, cut a line, skin a deer.
“Will this protect me? Must I learn to fight with it?” She turned the knife over in her hands.
I don’t know. I hope not. We need to hide it for now. If Theresa sleeps with you it would be too easy for her to find it. As soon as possible, we need to make a sheath for it so you can fasten it to your ankle where we can get to it in an emergency.
Miranda began to put it under her pillow again but instead lifted the edge of the mattress and placed it there.
“It will give me nightmares.”
It might save your life.
Miranda slept fitfully. I drifted. Her dreams and mine relived the day in disjointed jumps. The dreams were interspersed with my own recent experiences. Riding. Tending the horses. Hearing Kyle and Aubrey. Putting my hands in my pants. Feeling the swell of my orgasm.
We awoke with a start and quickly glanced at Theresa sleeping beside her. Miranda’s heart was beating rapidly—her breathing shallow. She quickly pulled her hand from beneath her nightgown.
“What was that?” she gasped.
That was a really nice come.
I was still letting the feeling wash over me. It made me so peaceful and calm. I was sure I could sleep easy now.
“You put my hands in my… privities.”
I didn’t! I was kind of dreaming about it, but I didn’t make you do it.
“You dream of… sexual congress?”
Doesn’t everyone?
“It’s not right. The priest…”
Has no business with your privities, as you call it. Just don’t disturb sweet Theresa. Other than that, come as often and as hard as you like. It was really nice. Now let’s go to sleep.
I couldn’t figure out why I was still with Miranda. It had been two very busy days spent packing. I figured my job here was done. Why wasn’t I back home in my own body? Pa had said he never knew how long he’d be gone. It could be a couple hours or a few months. Either way, only a little time would pass back home. I just wasn’t sure I wanted Aubrey to come into my room and find me with my fingers in my pussy again. It was a little embarrassing.
Why are we packing?
“We’re moving west.”
Where west? When?
“Mr. Jonathan says we’ll spend the winter in St. Louis and then on to Omaha in the spring. He has contracted to set up supply depots along the route of the transcontinental railroad.”
Omaha to Promontory, Utah where they drove the golden spike.
“What is that?”
I just remember the golden spike at Promontory, Utah. It was in American History. I can’t remember the date.
“We are moving everything and more will arrive from Chicago.”
I don’t know why I’m still here.
“Perhaps if I… I mean you said that when you were transported, you were… You had your hands…”
I was diddling my clit.
“I am not certain of the exact meaning of the words but I know what you were doing. Perhaps if you did it again you would return home.” I started laughing and some of it escaped from Miranda’s mouth.
“Miranda, there are fifty bolts of whole cloth to be stacked and labeled. If you have time to waste on frivolities, you can use it to help Theresa.”
“Yes, Mister Jonathan.” Miranda sighed and went to work on stacking the fabric for shipment. Tomorrow morning, everything would be moved to the train station and loaded into Mister Jonathan’s personal boxcar.
I don’t know if it will work. I’ve done it many times and did not go time traveling. But if you will loan me your fingers and your ‘privities’ tonight, we’ll give it a try.
“I am very warm just now.”
Well, don’t worry. If it doesn’t work at least we’ll get a good night’s sleep.
It didn’t work. We did get a good night’s sleep. Miranda refused to do anything herself and insisted that I ‘drive’. She considered it roughly the equivalent of killing that bugger who tried to kidnap us. It wasn’t she who did it. She just happened to reap the benefits. I nearly suffocated her, though, to keep her from squealing. I was sure I wasn’t that noisy. God, I hoped not! Kyle…
I wished he was sharing this with me. Not the orgasm but the time travel. I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t talk about it.
It was not yet light when we left the house and the carriage took us toward the railway station. We all bade a tearful goodbye to the housekeeper/cook. Mister Jonathan gave her assurances that the new tenants were good people and would treat her fairly. Our personal baggage amounted to a suitcase not much bigger than a roll-aboard. Without wheels. Maybe I could give Miranda that idea and she could become wealthy. My luck with changing Lincoln’s assassination, however, indicated that the idea would not fly—so to speak.
Of course, because Mister Jonathan had to supervise the loading of his boxcar, we were at the train station hours early. Theresa, Mother, and I sat at a café across from the train station and sipped a cup of tea. Whenever I was around Theresa, I just marveled at how much the younger girl reminded me of Caitlin. Both girls were thirteen years old. Both had beautiful long blonde hair. Theresa’s, of course, was tightly braided and wrapped on her head—a style that Miranda also employed. We had spent an hour last night before bed just brushing our hair side-by-side and then braiding it for each other. Miranda’s stepsister was a doll.
As we sat, I saw a large dark shape appear out the corner of my eye. I grabbed control of Miranda and my hand was on the knife concealed in her high-topped shoe before I hesitated. A wolf. How could there be a wolf in the middle of Baltimore? I registered the collar and leash before I pulled the knife to slash and stayed my hand. A large man strode beside the wolf with a sandwich-board placard that read ‘Exotic Animals, Mysteries of the West, Wild Indians. Laughman’s Circus Maximus.’
The wolf hesitated beside our table and looked directly at me. His golden eyes seemed to bore through Miranda to look straight into my soul. The wolf shook from nose to tail and then plodded along after his master. A shiver passed through my body. I relaxed my hand on my knife, made sure my skirts were concealing it, and surrendered Miranda’s body back to her. She immediately caught her breath, choked slightly and was patted on the back by her mother.
“Poor girl,” Mother said. “That wolf gave you quite a start.”
“I think he liked you, Miranda,” Theresa laughed. We went on drinking our tea.
“What was that about?” she asked me silently.
Wolf. I hate them. They are killing machines. They have no other purpose.
I shared my memory of the pack attacking the elk nearly a year ago. It had given me nightmares for weeks afterward. I should have been more careful. Miranda nearly threw up and her mother was once again patting her.
“There, there now, Miranda. There is no reason to be so nervous about traveling. We had a wonderful train ride out here from Pittsburgh even though the events in Washington rather spoiled our plans. Your stepfather has taken care to make sure our accommodations on the train are almost luxurious. You girls will have a compartment of your own with an attendant to turn down your bed.” It sounded lovely.
It was nearly two in the afternoon before we were ready to board. We’d eaten a light supper at the café when Mister Jonathan returned. And then waited because a horse platoon being sent to Omaha to protect railroad workers was on its way.
“Ah, there they are. We shall be underway soon now,” Mister Jonathan said. Miranda looked up and watched as about three dozen men on horses rode toward us. People all up and down the street were standing to cheer the fine-looking recruits. It seemed they were all from the surrounding region.
There was a flash of golden hair under the cap of a soldier on a coal black horse. I looked up just as he rode past and straight into his eyes.
Kyle!
My voice was cut off by the squawk of a raven sweeping between us.
Awkawkawkawk!
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