Saturday
I awoke suddenly, without any feeling of startlement. It seemed right to be awake. There was none of the momentary confusion that often accompanied the transition to wakefulness, no groping for alertness. Today, my inner voice told me, is my hanging day.
I felt an energy coursing through me I had never experienced before, an intense awareness of everything around me. The warmth of Scott's still-sleeping body against me, his arms holding me. The crispness of the bedsheets. The brightness of the sunlight streaming in from the window, illuminating the currently bare top of the dresser, as promised. The almost subliminal hum of sixty-cycle electric current from the alarm clock on the bedside table, its digital display red. Redder than red. Six forty-five.
I hadn't moved, but perhaps Scott's sleeping mind had sensed the change in my breathing pattern. His eyes came open partway, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. A whispered, "Morning, Spouse Smith."
I tightened my arms around him and kissed him, rubbing my body against him. Not in invitation to something more intense. Just wanting to feel him.
Scott broke off the kiss, his smile now quizzical. "There's something about your eyes."
I smiled back. "What about my eyes?"
He thought a moment, then shrugged. "Just somehow, I don't know... brighter."
I gave him a squeeze. What Runner had seen two days ago was now visible to anyone who looked. "Well, you know. Big day today."
Scott was startled by a sudden tap at the door. I wasn't. With my heightened awareness, I'd heard the soft steps approaching on the hallway carpet.
Matty's voice, very soft. "Mister Calvin? Mister Wynn? Do you want your breakfast now?"
Scott's eyebrows went up. "Ummm... You mean in here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Uhhh... sure." He looked at me and shrugged. Obviously this wasn't the usual thing.
The door opened, and Matty and Seamus entered, each with a tray. Scott and I looked at each other with a simultaneous chuckle. We pushed ourselves up to a sitting position and put our pillows behind our backs, upright against the headboard. I let the bedsheet settle across my lap. I wasn't sure about the propriety of showing my bare chest to near-strangers, uninvited, as a guest in the house. Then I remembered that I was a member of the family now. Matty and Seamus were, in a sense, my own slaves, odd as the notion seemed to me — who had just discarded my own slavery of four years' standing less than twenty-four hours ago.
The two slaveboys waited patiently as we rearranged ourselves, then set the trays, each supported on short legs at the corners, over our laps.
Scott said to Seamus, "This my dad's idea?"
He shook his head briefly, and gave Scott a small smile. "No, sir. We thought you might like it. Mister Benjamin did tell us the caterers were coming at eight, and we thought you'd probably want to eat before that."
"Oh! Right. And thank you, this is really nice."
Matty and Seamus both said, not quite together, "Thank you, sir." I choked back a giggle over a memory: Holden and Hamish would have been perfectly synchronized.
I looked at our breakfasts and nearly choked suppressing my laughter. As soon as Matty and Seamus had closed the door and walked away, I let my amusement bubble out.
"What's so funny," Scott asked. Then he looked at my tray and asked, "Is it the breakfast?"
After a few more seconds I managed to control myself enough to gasp out, "Yes. Carb loading."
"What?"
"It's something marathon runners do. Eating a lot of carbohydratess to build up fuel in the muscles." I gestured at my tray. It had one, solitary, boiled egg. The rest was pancakes with maple syrup, a big serving of hash brown potatoes, and a hearty cooked cereal. A creamer, a bowl of white sugar, another of brown sugar, and a dish of honey sat next to the cereal bowl. There was a 16oz glass of orange juice, another of apple juice, and a third of tomato juice.
"Oh." said Scott. His tray held a huge Spanish omelet, bacon, buttered toast, and a 4oz glass of orange juice. He started laughing, too, and that set me off again. We ended up holding on to each other for support. I had the hiccups from laughing so hard. I cupped my hands over my face and rebreathed my air to get the hiccups under control.
"Carb loading is for events lasting longer than an hour," I explained, "I hope to make 25 minutes or a little longer, but even Maverick only lasted 40 minutes."
We ended up trading around, so we each got some omelot and some bacon and some pancakes, etc.
As we ate, I asked, "So what's the schedule? All I know about now is the caterers."
"Well, there's also a wedding coach, who's going to show your friends, and mine, the ones participating, what they're supposed to do." He laughed. "The guys, my friends — on their invitations it said get here by ten. I didn't say why, though. Oh! And a photographer is coming, at about nine. I wanted some pics of you, and of us together. Could you put on that same outfit as yesterday? I really like that."
"I've got one like it in my bag, that's fresher. The boys were talking about a wedding outfit. Don't you want me in that?"
"Of course, but you can change into that later."
"This guy knows he can't photograph my hanging, right?"
"Boy. Yeah, in fact, she'll be leaving before that."
"When do the guests get here?"
"The invitations said noon. I was thinking we'd try to hang you around three — does that give you enough time to get ready, after we spend some time with the guests?"
I nodded. "That'll mean the show will be over about halfway between lunch and dinner. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, the invitations say no formal dinner. The guests will just graze off a buffet until everybody gets too tired — or drunk — to keep going."
I grinned suddenly. "This is so great! I just still can't believe... well, I'm just really happy to have something unique. I don't think any Hanging Boy ever went out this way. Thank you." I kissed him, and went on for a time, alternating thank-yous and kisses.
I looked at the clock. "We'd better shower and get dressed. Come on." I set my tray aside, jumped out of bed and took him by the hand. Scott was disappointed that we didn't make love once more, but he hid it well. We've done it in bed enough, sweetie. I've got something else planned.
The shower was easily big enough for both of us. I used my hands to spread soap over his body; and he did the same for me. I smiled as I saw his erection growing. I'd better get to that now.
I knelt, stroked it with wet hands for a time, washing off the soap, then opened my mouth and took it in, alternately sucking deeply and licking. Scott grinned down at me after an initial gasp. "What do you think you're doing, Spouse Smith?"
I let him slip out of my mouth long enough to say "Making memories." This time I, used the seductive purr I'd avoided earlier. I began sucking again, hearing Scott moan as the warm water cascaded over us.
The grounds behind our house bustled with activity. The caterers had parked their truck beside the hanging stage. I closed my eyes and slowly took in a deep lungful of fresh air. It was dry, sweetly floral-scented, and cool but soon to be warming. Scott said, "Remind... No, sorry, honey. You've got enough to think about. I need to remember to tell them to move that truck out of the area before the guests start showing up."
I rubbed up against him and brushed my cheek on his shoulder. "I imagine they've done this before, sweetie." I smiled at as I saw my friends splashing in the pool again.
I turned to look at the hanging stage; my eyes were caught by the heavy rope hanging from the horizontal beam above the stage. I had only meant to glance at it and then look back at Scott, but it held my attention magnetically. It's for me, it's for me! Ever since the day I had stood, entranced, watching Marshall hang, my life had been pointed toward this one special day. I felt a quivering energy pour through my body.
I pulled myself together and turned away. I can get caught up in that excitement later. There's something else happening now, something I never imagined I'd participate in — my own wedding party! And that's something to be shared with Scott. I want him always to remember every second of today.
I felt a renewed gush of love for him, remembering how much he was sacrificing for this. My dream comes first in his mind. He's giving so much of himself to make this perfect for me. I want it to be perfect for him.
My arms seemed to enfold themselves around him automatically, and I rested my head on his shoulder. I said, "I love you." My voice was husky, near tears.
His arm circled my waist, his cheek rubbing the top of my head. "I love you, Wynn. I'll say it first, next time."
I giggled. "Nope, I'll beat you to it every time."
A slightly sleepy-but-friendly looking civet with an expensive camera approached. She smiled. "I'm Jessica. Your boy... ummmm, Matty, let me in. Do you want me to get some pics now?"
Over the next few minutes, Jessica took photos in various poses — one with Scott and me standing beside each other looking at the camera; one with us facing each other looking lovingly into each other's eyes; one of Benjamin and me; one of Scott, Benjamin, and me; one of me alone, holding a bouquet of flowers in front of my waist, my head in a slight playful tilt to the side. Jessica suggested I get up onto the stage, and took a shot of me, my right arm up and my fingers wrapped around the noose as I beamed at the camera.
After I hopped down from the stage, I heard a distant shout, "Wynn!" and moments later the pounding of feet as Marcus, Zuchter, and Runner sprinted over, all un-self-consciously naked — Runner least self-conscious of all. Marcus stopped suddenly about ten feet away, his arms out to signal the others to hold back, and said, "I'm sorry, you're in the middle of something. We can..."
"Oh!" I turned Jessica. "Can we get one of the four of us?" I looked at Scott. "Is that okay, sweetie?"
He grinned. "Sure. Ummm... You mean like they are?"
I laughed. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"
Scott choked back a laugh. "Uhhh, no, that's fine."
It took a few minutes for me to get them lined up next to me, with no one hidden behind anyone else. I ended up with Marcus on my left and Zuchter on my right, my arms around their waists. Runner sat cross-legged on the ground in front of me, his head resting against my inner thigh, his arm wrapped around my leg.
Runner looked up at me uncertainly. "What do I do, Wynn?"
I suddenly realized that Runner had seen any number of photographs, but he'd never had his own picture taken before. I pointed. "That's the camera she's holding right there. That's what makes the picture. Just look right at it, and smile like it's a really close friend."
Runner grinned back. "I'll pretend it's you." He beamed at the camera.
I asked Jessica, "Is the lighting a problem? They're all kind of... reflective." The boys were all still wet from the pool.
Jessica shook her head. "Not a problem. On three..." Marcus tilted his head against me, and Zuchter put his arm across my back and pressed his hip against mine. Jessica counted, and pressed the button.
As Jessica lowered the camera, Runner looked up at me again. "Did she do it?"
I smiled at him. "Yeah, it's done." I looked at Jessica. "Is there any way we can see that now?"
Jessica nodded. "Sure." The digital camera had a small printer on the side. She pressed a few buttons, and a wide, flat tongue of stiff paper issued from the slot. Jessica took it and handed it to me, as Runner scrambled to his feet.
I held it; Runner stood transfixed, staring at it, his lips pressed together, his eyes unblinking.
I had no trouble reading Runner's body language. I looked at Jessica. "Is there any way he could keep that..." I looked at Scott, biting my lip. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask. I know this is costing you more money."
Scott started, "It's not a big..." but was interrupted by Jessica saying, "It's on me," smiling.
I looked at her, wide-eyed. "Really??" Impulsively, I reached out and hugged Jessica. "Thank you."
Jessica, a little startled, said, "No problem."
I turned and held the photo toward Runner. "This is for..." I stopped and looked back and forth between Marcus and Zuchter. "You guys understand, right?"
Marcus said, "Absolutely," while Zuchter nodded vigorously.
I smiled at both of them, and turned back to Runner. "This is yours."
Runner's jaw dropped as he took the photo from me. "Mine?" I nodded.
Holding the picture by his fingertips in both hands, Runner said breathlessly, "I'm going to go put this in my bag," turned, and made a dash for the guesthouse.
I watched him go, sighed, and turned back to Scott, hugging him and kissing his cheek.
He grinned. "What's that for?"
"Just general principles. And because you said yes, too."
Seamus had approached and stopped a few paces away. He cleared his throat now. "Mister Calvin? The wedding coach is here."
Scott gave me a quick kiss on the lips and turned to the slaveboy. "Show him to the guesthouse, please, Seamus." He looked back at me. "You guys should all go there too. I'll hang around out here and bring my buddies back there when they show up."
I nodded, kissed him again, and started to walk with Marcus and Zuchter back to the guesthouse, but stopped. "Seamus, my bag is up in Scott's room... ummm, Mister Calvin's room..." I laughed briefly. "My room. Could you or Matty bring it out to the guesthouse? I need something that's in it."
Seamus nodded, "Yes, sir," and did a small bow.
I blinked. That was the first time either of Benjamin's slaves had called me that. Well, life's full of changes.
The suit was an unfamiliar style, new since I'd gone into the Academy. Marcus helped me get it on properly. "You sure look fine in that, Wynn. I'm just thinking about whether the slacks are going to chafe your sheath, rubbing back and forth when you walk around."
The suit was a creme color, and I liked the style. The shoulders were slightly padded, but not enough to be obvious. The ascot was like a waterfall of red, orange, and dark blue-gray across my chest. Somehow, without being obvious, it called attention to the column of my neck — the real star of today's show. "No, it feels fine. I don't think I'll need to move that much anyway. Now help me with this." I picked up the strip of material that matched the color of the suit, bought yesterday at a wedding accessories shop on the way home from the city marriage office.
Marcus blinked. "What kind of help do you need with a choker?"
I shook my head. "Not with the choker itself. Hold on." I bent down to my bag and unzipped the pocket containing the envelope. I extracted the five inch cutting of brown hair, carefully, trying not to lose any strands. I carefully wrapped the lock of hair around the choker and tied it in a knot, on the outer side of the choker, to hold it in place. I nodded, and muttered, "That should stay."
Runner didn't looked especially puzzled until he saw that Marcus and Zuchter did. Apparently he assumed I was doing something normal until the evidence came in that it wasn't. "What's that for, Wynn?"
I smiled at him. "Remember what I told you about my first roommate, Sumner?"
Runner nodded. "We saw him in the Hall of Honor. They hanged him at your first demo."
"Well, this is some of his hair. You saw how short it was, right?" Runner nodded. "It was cut so he could play a prisoner in the little show we put on beforehand. He was the first boy to do any kind of show at a demo, instead of them just hanging him so we could all watch. Anyway, I promised him I'd wear his hair around my choker when I did my show. Right up next to the rope. I just wanted him to know I'd remember him always."
Runner looked wide-eyed at the bit of hair now tied around the choker, then up at me. "I'll remember you always, Wynn." He suddenly knelt beside his own bag, and stroked the side of it, looking up at me as he did it. "When I do my show, I'm going to have the picture of us. I'll put it somewhere on me."
I blinked quickly to keep the tears from flowing. This wasn't a good time to have to fix my eyes. Runner stood again, and I kissed him. "Thank you, honey." I picked up the choker, brushing a finger against the right side of my neck, and looked at Marcus. "I need you to help me put this right over my carotid." I put on the choker and fastened it, and stood still while Marcus, his tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrated, gently tugged it around so Sumner's hair was in the proper place.
Marcus stepped back, nodding with satisfaction. I said, "Oh! I hadn't thought of this somehow. The pulse monitor is in my slave choker, and I'm not going to be wearing that."
Marcus looked startled. "Oh, right! Well, it's okay, Wynn. I can just do it the old-fashioned way. I'll check your pulse myself."
I nodded. "Okay. But... okay, just leave me hanging about an extra five minutes after you think I'm dead. I'll tell Scott, so he knows what's going on. I just don't want you checking over and over."
Marcus smiled. "Wynn, I can tell..." He waved his hand. "Never mind, though, I'll do it that way."
I let out a sigh. I'm ready now.
Marcus, Zuchter, and Runner were all in their tuxedos —in a ridiculous soft yellow color, but things like that seem to be the fate of groomsmen everywhere. They all had neatly brushed hair. My hair was too short to be rearranged in any significant way, but Zuchter had smoothed it out with a hairbrush.
I looked up as the door opened, and three young men entered. I recognized one of them immediately — Scott's apartment roommate from his days at the university. I moved toward him, giving him a hug. "Alan! It's nice to see you."
He grinned and returned the hug. "Hey, Wynn! Scott says this is all for real? You guys really are married?" Alan, like the other two men, looked half-stunned. All three had anticipated a hanging, but had had no idea a wedding party was included — much less that they'd actually be participants in it.
Alan's degree of surprise ran even deeper. "I had absolutely no hint you were the boy Scott was going to be hanging! So... I guess you got through the Hanging Academy okay, then?"
I laughed. "So it seems."
"This is so weird. You know, I thought all along you and Scott could end up married, if it wasn't for the Academy thing. And you did anyway!" He frowned. "I never heard of a Hanging Boy being married. I thought you were all slaves."
"I was. Scott freed me for this."
He shook his head in wonder. "And you're still going to hang anyway?"
I laughed again. "Alan, it's what we do! Anyway, are you going to introduce me to your friends?"
"Oh!" Alan turned to look at the others. "I don't exactly actually know them. You guys are from Scott's work, right?"
The nearer one, with short dark hair, nodded. "I'm Doug." He shook hands with me. "And this is Rob." The other man, shorter, his hair curly and blonde, stepped forward to greet me. I introduced my friends, and then the wedding coach, a vole named Annie.
Annie said, "Why don't you guys get into your coats, and we'll get you paired up with Wynn's friends, and I'll tell you what you need to do. Have you been to any wedding parties before?" She'd asked my friends the same question earlier. Runner, of course, had not, though he'd seen a few on TV — or bits and pieces of a few, anyway.
Scott's friends and co-workers put on coats — all sky blue, all of them a pretty good fit. I said to Alan, "I never really got a chance to thank you for..." I laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Well, this sounds rude, but thank you for not being around much, when I was seeing Scott. I don't mean you aren't wonderful company or anything like that, but it was nice being able to get some time alone with Scott."
Alan laughed. "You're welcome. And I understand. It was kind of a favor we traded. Like he'd clear out when I brought dates over."
"Well, anyway, thanks." I kissed him on the cheek.
Annie said, "All of you stand still for a sec. I usually arrange the pairings by heights..."
About twenty minutes later, Annie signaled to Marcus to begin the formal portion of the party.
Marcus emerged from the guesthouse in his yellow tuxedo, and began walking slowly toward the assembled guests in front of the hanging stage. He carried a basket of rose petals, its handle hooked over his left arm. He scattered them around as he walked. I watched unseen from the dim interior of the guesthouse, heard the waiting crowd quiet suddenly, and saw them turn to watch Marcus.
Zuchter followed about thirty feet behind, distributing yellow petals, his face bearing a wide smile that threatened to turn into a giggle. Neither he nor Marcus had ever participated in a wedding party before, and neither had expected that they ever would. Neither had had any close friends get married during the summer between high school graduation and starting their studies at the Academy, and between the two of them they had only one older brother. Marcus's brother Marshall had, of course, never married. Both, however, had attended such parties for more distant acquaintances or cousins, so they had listened to Annie's instructions with some idea beforehand of what was expected of them.
Marcus had suggested that Runner should go last, being the least familiar with wedding traditions, though he'd actually seen this part before on television. Runner followed Zuchter, scattering blue petals.
Alan, standing to Scott's right between him and Benjamin, reached out for Marcus's hand and they took their positions side-by-side. I watched, my heart fluttering, smiling helplessly, and saw Annie's signal. I picked up the floral bouquet I'd used in the earlier photos, held it in front of me, and stepped out of the guesthouse. I started walking at the same slow pace the others had used, following the gaily-colored path of petals they had made for me. Jessica, the photographer, went down on one knee and took several pictures as I approached. Several members of the crowd began applauding, and it quickly spread to the rest.
I was accustomed to being applauded, but the context was different here. I was more self-conscious as the object of attention than I'd been in a long time. I started to blush, and quickly looked above the waiting faces to the hanging noose. The sight of it calmed me and excited me at the same time; I took a deep breath.
I spotted Ted Bloom, grinned at him and gave him a small finger-wave. Justin, Jimmy, and Rochelle from the ship that rescued me were standing together, dressed neatly in buttoned shirts and slacks. I waved to them as well. Father was standing near Scott, beaming with a show of pride I hadn't seen directed at me before, and I blew him a kiss.
I gasped and nearly stopped walking in astonishment — Dean Porter was here, smiling and applauding with everyone else.
The faces of the rest of the crowd were unfamiliar, probably a mixture of friends and colleagues of Scott and Benjamin.
I gave Marcus, Zuchter, and Runner each a smile — Zuchter standing with Rob, to Scott's left, and Runner with Doug next to them — and then fixed my eyes on Scott. I stopped in front of him, and the guests quieted again, their applause dying down. In the utter quiet, Scott smiled, reached out to slide his arms around me. We held each other and kissed, a long, soft touch of lips.
We broke the kiss at last, and I stepped to the side and turned to face the guests, Scott's arm around my waist. Scott, a little nervously but speaking clearly, said, "I want to thank you, all of you, for honoring us with your presence. I present to you..." He paused, almost unable to form words around a huge smile, then went on, "my spouse, Wynn Cameron Smith."
The applause broke out again, louder than before, accompanied by exuberant shouts. The sounds then slowly quieted as the guests began forming a line to file past us.
Some soft music began to play over the sound system. I understood there would be some dancing later, after my hanging.
Before any other guests could approach, I turned and hugged Benjamin. "Thank you so much, for everything."
Benjamin looked a little sheepish. "I suppose I should have told you, when we met in your Dean's office..."
I grinned and shook my head. "I love surprises. This was the best ever, Benjamin. Oh, I just thought. I should probably call you Dad..." I looked to my left, and shook my head. "Maybe not, though. My own dad is right there."
Benjamin smiled. " 'Benjamin' is still fine."
I let go of Benjamin and lunged at Father; he'd managed to be first in line. I squeezed him in a bear hug, my head against his chest. "I am so glad you're here, Daddy."
Dad rumbled, "Wouldn't miss it... I didn't have any idea a wedding party was included." He sounded slightly miffed.
I looked up at him. "Daddy, I didn't even know until yesterday. It was all meant to be a surprise, and Scott... Oh! Daddy, this is Scott." I released Father and gestured toward Scott. I giggled. "I know this seems weird, introducing you to a man I'm already married to. Please, don't be mad, Daddy! I wish now you'd met him four years ago... do you remember? I told you a little about him then. But I was so set on going to the Academy, we were both trying not to get too serious. But I love him, Daddy." I held Father's eyes with mine. "Very much."
Dad looked at me a moment longer, then seemed to relax a bit, and held out his hand toward Scott. "Preston Cameron."
Scott let out a visible sigh of relief. "Scott Smith. This is my dad, Benjamin Smith." Handshakes were exchanged, and Dad went so far as to smile at Scott. "I'd ask what sort of long-term plans you and my boy have, but I understand I don't need to worry about that."
Scott laughed. "Not at all, sir. But I do want you to know I will do everything I can to make your son happy..."
I leaned against him and kissed his cheek. "You already have, honey."
I looked around, wanting to introduce Father to my friends from school, but couldn't spot them anywhere. I shrugged and decided I could do it later.
Benjamin shook hands with Dad once more, and said, "Well, help yourself at the snack table. The bar is at the far end..."
I found Ted, about halfway down the line, and interrupted. "Daddy! Have you talked to Ted Bloom yet, like I said to? You promised you would."
Dad looked uncomfortable. "Well..."
I gave him a stern look. "Daddy, he did so much for me, and he didn't have to do any of it. I've told him how grateful I am, but I want you to do it too. I know you must still be thinking he's responsible for what happened to Andrew. But Andrew's an adult. He made his own decisions, and the consequences were his own doing. The only thing Ted was ever thinking of was protecting me." I flashed a sly smile. "My dying wish, okay? Now you can't say no."
He sighed. "Okay. After he gets through the line."
I hugged him once more, and laughed. "Now get some food. It's going to be awhile before the big feast."
He walked off toward the bar; Benjamin introduced me to the next guests in line, one of his employees and his spouse.
I hugged Dean Porter unself-consciously. "It's so great you came! I never imagined!"
He smiled. "Well, I may be the only guest here who knew he was coming to a wedding party."
"About that. Ummm... I was remembering something awhile ago about your sale contracts. You always attach conditions to them, about having to hang the boy within a certain time. Letting Benjamin or Scott free me doesn't seem to fit — I mean, as a free anthro I can decide on my own future. Did you... well, what I mean is..."
The Dean relieved me of having to find a tactful way to inquire into his business arrangements. Smiling again, he said, "No, this wasn't a normal Academy contract. Just a straight-up sale. And yes, I did understand Mr. Smith's intentions."
"But why would you..." I smiled suddenly, understanding. "You knew I'd insist on hanging. You didn't need any of the guarantees you normally get."
He nodded. "That's part of it. I trusted you, but it's actually never been a matter of trusting my own boys. I knew you'd do the right thing, as I know any graduate would. It went beyond that in this case. I trusted Mr. Smith. Benjamin. I've known him for years."
I thrust out my lower lip in a mock pout. "What, so it wasn't because I was special?"
He laughed. "You're misunderstanding, for once. What really charmed me about the idea was that it would give you a unique ending. As unique as you've been as a student, I thought you'd earned that."
Tears stung my eyes for the hundredth time today, and I hugged him again. "Thank you for making all this..." I gestured to indicate the grounds and the activity all around, "...possible. I'm happier than I ever imagined I could be."
"I can see that."
Marcus suddenly appeared, holding Alan's hand as they emerged between some tall shrubbery, both brushing what seemed to be loose blades of grass from their clothes. Alan's face wore a half-stunned grin. I waved Marcus over. "Where have you been? Like I can't tell."
Marcus laughed. "Ummm, well, busy."
"Zuchter and Runner still 'busy'?"
"I guess. I kind of lost track of them." He laughed again. "This was Runner's idea. Or, well, I don't know if 'idea' is the right word." My puzzled look set him off laughing again. When he caught his breath, he explained. "Last night, Runner was asking all these questions about what we were supposed to do. Matty had said there'd be a wedding coach, and we told Runner the coach would explain all that, but you know how he gets when he wants to know something. So we described it as well as we could, and then he asked, 'How do I know when to take my partner into the woods and sex with him?' He'd seen that in a movie! And he thought it was just one of the things a wedding attendant does at a wedding party! We told him they don't, uhhh, usually do that, but then it occurred to us it sounded kind of fun. So we figured out when we could work that in."
Scott looked at Alan, who was now at one of the snack tables, and choked back laughter. "What, you mean that's where Doug and Rob are?"
Marcus nodded, and burst out laughing again.
Scott shook his head. "Well, I guess they'll remember my wedding." We both needed some time to recover from laughing before greeting the next guests.
Ted hugged me warmly. "I am so glad to see you so happy."
"Oh, Ted, you just can't even imagine."
"I wanted to make sure and tell you, I've been consulting with some sociologists, experts on primitive societies in general. We've formed sort of a working group, and a lot of good ideas are coming out of it."
I gasped excitedly. "That's great, Ted!" I'd felt sure Ted would get interested in the ideas I'd had when I visited his house shortly after my rescue.
Ted sighed. "I just wish I had something more concrete to tell you before you go..."
I shook my head vigorously. "No, please don't worry about that. I'm so happy just knowing you're putting your energy into it. So many preyfur's lives are going to be better, because of you."
Ted smiled and shook his head. "Because of you, Wynn."
We hugged again, and I said, "Oh, Ted... Would you go over and say hi to my dad? He's been looking to talk to you, but he..." I hesitated only an instant, deciding how to phrase it, "...got kind of sidetracked."
Ted gave me a puzzled look, but nodded. "Sure."
"Honey, these are the sailors who rescued me from the Island! This is Justin Greene, the captain... Jimmy Pellis... Rochelle Bailor. I want all of you to meet my husband, Scott Smith." Wow! I thought, how odd it sounds to say that, but somehow just right.
After all had shaken hands with Scott, and I had hugged Bailor and Pellis, I gave Greene an especially warm, tight hug. Still holding him loosely, I backed away enough to look in his face. "I think every day about how you helped me when nobody else could. I'm so happy you get a chance to see what you saved me for! Listen, while I'm hanging, at one point I'll be facing in your direction. When I do a little double kick with my feet, that's me saying goodbye to you, and 'thank you' one last time. Okay?"
He grinned and nodded, then blinked in surprise as I kissed him. He shot a quick look at Scott, but Scott simply smiled, held out his hand for another shake and said, "Thanks again."
I'd missed seeing Zuchter and Runner return, but spotted them over at the snack table, both with paper plates. Zuchter was apparently giving hints to Runner as to which treats would be good. I waved, trying to get their attention, but a gust of wind sprang up, causing the noose to sway. My attention was drawn there. It's for me it's for me it's for me! a voice inside me chanted. Mine. All my life, long before devoting myself to hanging, I'd been conscious of every prey anthro's goal of being fur, and my hopes that I could provide for the people I loved most. That noose, that noose I'm seeing right there in front of me, that's my completion as prey.
Near the hanging platform sat a large jar full of preserving fluid. In just a few hours my head will be in that! I brushed my fingers across my cheek. This head right here, I told myself.
And some cells will be in a lab, being united with Scott's sperm. I'll be leaving a child for Scott... a grandchild for Dad. Talk about a perfect ending...
Yeah. Really perfect would be to use a cell from my neck. Right under where Sumner's hair will be.
I looked up again at the noose. And I get to hang!! My completion as a Hanging Boy.
Scott and I finished greeting the last guests in line. Scott held his arm up. "Everybody! I know this is a little out of the usual order, but we can't wait and share the wedding cake after dinner, and I assume you all know why." There was laughter all around. Scott, took my hand and led me to the table on which the cake towered.
As soon as I was close enough to see the cake, I buried my face in my hands and started laughing. The cake was topped by five-inch-high figures — one dressed formally in a tux and bow tie, looking up at the other: a squirrel, naked, hands bound behind him with string, hanging by the neck from a tiny noose.
I spun toward Scott and threw my arms around him again. "I love it!" I kissed him once more, while the guests applauded.