Times spent together, just the two of us, long before we became aware there was an ‘us’ to be aware of. We’ve always enjoyed being together, from the very beginning. And I find myself suddenly understanding some of the comments that have been leveled at Jude over the years, on my behalf and because of me. It continues to amaze me how blind I’ve been, to so much. So much wasted time. But that’s a futile thought, isn’t it?
He shifts his weight a little beneath me unexpectedly, and I completely miss the mischievous gleam in his eyes that would normally tell me he’s up to something until he falls backward onto the cot, flat on his back, pulling me down on top of him. I arch a quizzical eyebrow at him as if to ask what is this? He’s openly smirking. How incredibly handsome he is, even when he’s full of himself.
“I gotta ask it, you know.”
“Ask what?”
“The age old question,” he replies, barely repressing another smirk.
“What age old question?” I’m completely baffled, although I’m pretty sure he’s having fun with me somehow. I just haven’t figured out how.
“This one,” he replies, pulling me closer to him, his warm breath ghosting over my ear, causing me to shiver. “Considering the position you and I are in at this moment, I have to ask—what would Jesus do?”
I burst into sudden laughter. He’s caught me quite unawares, and for a few moments I’m unable to speak—and certainly unable to answer his question, which is probably just as well, ’cause what I’d do and what I’d like to do are certainly not appropriate for this time and place. Not to mention we have a distinct lack of privacy going on here. It’s at this very moment the door to the jailhouse opens, and in bursts Kathy Kaplan, her arms laden with a variety of packages. Her husband jumps to his feet, taking them from her. I can tell from his face he has no idea what she’s brought, or why, which doesn’t slow her up in the slightest. I take advantage of their current pre-occupation to move off of Judas, who’s laughing himself. It’s good to hear him laugh, it’s been too long. It feels good, too. I steal a kiss, as I whisper, in answer to his question, “I’ll show you later.” Assuming I can, of course.
Since I’m under the assumption that the sheriff’s wife has brought the sheriff’s dinner, I’m perplexed when Kaplan seems prepared to leave, rather than to eat.
Judas and I exchange looks, but he’s as clueless as I am. Kaplan approaches the cell, having just checked and holstered his weapon. “Well, gentlemen,” he says with a grin, “my backup’s here, so I’ll be on my way.”
“Your wife?” Judas asks, as she’s the only other person here, skepticism evident in his tone. “No offense, Sheriff, but what sort of security are you leaving us with? No offense, Kathy,” he adds, as the subject of his question comes to stand beside her husband, looking rather amused herself, rather than offended. Kaplan says nothing, deferring to her to respond to the question, with a wave of one hand.
“None taken,” she assures him, pulling back her jacket just far enough to reveal she’s armed, a handgun tucked into a holster that sits upon her hip as if it belongs there.
“Kathy used to be my deputy,” the sheriff explains, grinning proudly. “That’s how we met. She’s one of the best shots in the state.” I’m very surprised, as I’d never have suspected beneath her sweet exterior lurks the heart of a law enforcement official. Judas looks just as surprised as I am.
“Don’t worry.” She laughs. “My reputation is only on the range. I’ve never had to shoot anyone in my life.”
“I pray you have no need to do so tonight.” I feel secure that she’ll do her best to keep us safe, although to be honest, I hadn’t felt insecure before. After all, I’ve made a deal with the devil, and it’s in his own best interest to keep us safe from harm until the bargain can be completed. Both of us. As I’m contemplating these things, and more, Kathy presses a paper bag into her husband’s hand—probably his dinner —and sends him out the door to keep an eye on what will be happening tonight at Mary’s concert. I can only pray all will go well, and everyone will stay safe.
Once her husband is safely on his way, Kathy turns back to the two of us, and there’s a gleam in her eyes of the “I’m up to something” variety. “I need you two out here for a few minutes,” she informs us, crooking her finger as if to beckon us out. Judas doesn’t wait to be told twice. He takes my hand and leads me out of the cell. I confess it’s nice to be outside of its confines for more than visits to the men’s room, even if only temporarily. There’s something about being behind bars that isn’t conducive to maintaining a pleasant disposition. I imagine it’s the whole idea of being confined against one’s will. “Now,” she continues, “just be patient for a few minutes, please, feel free to talk amongst yourselves…” That isn’t a difficult order to obey, and she is in charge, after all. We stand together, our arms about one another, all our attention focused on one another, relaxing in our mutual warmth. I wonder if she’s searching the cell for something, but somehow I doubt it, as she’s taken her bags in with her. I burrow my face into Judas’ robes and inhale his sweet fragrance, losing all sense of time until she announces we can return. Much too quickly, it seems, until we discover just what she’s been doing.