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Her name was Sarah, Sarah Marie Cooke. Everyone called her Sugar. I never figured that one out. She was not a sweet lady. OH, to the contrary, it seemed as though she hated almost everyone. Well, everyone except her nephew Bartholomew. With that name you might expect him to be called Bart, he was actually called Deuce. No one ever spoke of why that name was chosen. It was, and you had to accept it.
Sugar married once. She was a stunningly beautiful woman in her youth. As she got older her beauty did not fade, it matured. She had character, that’s what everyone said.
Deuce was a brilliant man, he was incredibly handsome but he never dated either. He stopped to visit Sugar each week on Wednesday evening and Saturday morning. Wednesday was simply a social visit. Saturday mornings were spent doing maintenance on Sugar’s estate. She liked to call it an estate, in reality it was less than 1 acre. The lawn was cared for, if the outside weather allowed then painting or repairs were completed. If the weather was bad he worked inside, doing whatever needed to be done.
Promptly at 11:30 Sugar would call out to him and the work stopped. At noon they sat down to lunch and then did her weekly shopping in the early afternoon. Then there was a rest time while they would each read a favorite book as a favorite selection of classical music played softly in the background. Exactly at 5 they would leave for dinner at their favorite place.
No one ever understood why they ate every week at Sam’s Salty Dog Bar and grill. The place was a filthy dive, the food was terrible, the service was worse and the food prices were enough to drive a rich man into shock. Even looking at those facts, they did go there every week.
Their routine started on the week after he turned 18 and continued for almost 21 years until her death. Sugar was the first of her parents 14 children. Deuce was the youngest child of the youngest daughter.
The last car she ever bought was a 1965 Oldsmobile, that beast was a boat. It was long enough that Sugar claimed it took up 2 zip codes when parked. She threw the comment out as fact, no emotion behind it at all. The week before she died the odometer went over 75.000 miles. Only 2 people ever drove it any more, they were Deuce and her mechanic.
At the end of their Saturday and Wednesday evenings he would quietly wait downstairs as she prepared for bed. When she was ready he would give her a kiss on her left cheek, straighten her blanket and walk out of the house to go home, promptly at 9.
I suppose the strict routine was a comfort to the older woman in some way. They never talked about it and the routine never varied by much more than a minute at anytime.
Sugar had been married early in her life, the week after she turned 18. He was a banker and much older than she. He died at his desk at 5 on a Friday evening. When he varied from his routine and was not home by 5:25 that evening she called the bank and asked that he be looked in on. No one ever saw her grieve for him. She wore a dark black dress and veil for a year afterward. On the first anniversary of his death she changed her attire to long gray dresses and listed his bank and the mansion they lived in for sale. She moved out that day and into the only other house she lived in her adult life.
The art and antiques, including most of the furniture, all went to auction. She invested her money wisely and never had to work a day in her life.
Sugar died the second week in November. She simply went to sleep and never woke up. Less than 20 attended the services, they included the owner of Sam’s, her accountant, Deuce and a small collection of persons who thought there might be a meal in it or were just curious about the old woman. There was also the drunk who lived under the back stairs into the church.
All of her siblings had passed years ago, her nieces and nephews could not care about the eccentric old woman. Her will was read and settled within the week. There was a generous donation to an animal rescue association, the rest went to Deuce.
Deuce had always rented a small furnished efficiency apartment. After being awarded the house he saw no need to spend any more money on the apartment and moved to the house.
He thoroughly cleaned the house from top to bottom, paying close attention to her room. The linens on the bed were changed to fresh ones, her bathroom towels and washcloths were all replaced with clean ones and the door was closed and locked.
The house had a comfortable feeling to it, but after the first week he noticed there was something not right at times. In the evenings there was a distinctly cold feeling in the areas she would have been when she was alive, after 9 the feeling was gone for the night.
One evening he was passing her bedroom at 9:05 and swore her heard a light moan inside the door. He called out ‘Who is there?’ The noise stopped, he was almost positive he heard a slight rustle of bed linens.
The next evening he heard the same noises but he did not call out. Finally one evening he had the key and when the noises started he silently opened the door. The moon was shining in on the bed, he was certain he saw a lump in the blanket. ‘Sugar, are you here?’ There was no response.
‘Sugar, if you are here please answer me!’ He thought he might be loosing his mind.
The next evening the same routine happened.
The third evening he called out from the hall ‘I can hear you Sugar. I miss you something awful. Please talk to me.’ Then he entered the room to find complete quiet.
He didn’t leave the room the night as he did the previous times. Finally he heard a soft sob from the direction of the bed.
‘It will be all right, just tell me what I can do for you.’
No further replies were heard the evening.
‘I will respect your privacy, if you wish to talk please come and see me in my room.’ As he left the room he heard soft sobbing. Part of it was he.
The next week in the middle of the night he awoke to a slight glow in his room. It was mostly a soft iridescent pink sort of color. Sometimes it was almost bluish.
He remained silent and watched with his eyes almost shut. A womanly figure slowly appeared in the corner of his room. The figure came over to his bed and silently stood watch over him, almost as if it wished it could touch him.
Over the next week the figure became bolder and got closer and closer, until she would sit on the bed for a while.
After 2 weeks of visitations he watched as the figure turned to leave after visiting. Deuce softy sighed and the figure paused as if afraid to move. Deuce softly whispered ‘Sugar?’
The figure started to get dimmer as if trying to leave.
‘Please!’ he paused, ‘Thank you for coming to check on me. I still love you’
The light got a little brighter and stayed where it was.
‘Please, stay with me and talk.’
He heard her voice. It seemed to be inside his head, he did not hear it with his ears.
‘D, D, Deuce’ she stuttered ‘I, I know about how you are special. I saw when you were a tiny baby many years ago. That is why we bonded so well.’
He remained quiet, waiting for her to continue.
‘When I saw the way you are, you were only 3 weeks old. I understand what you feel.’
He thought ‘How can you possibly know how it is to be this way’
‘There is a special person who loves you as you are, just as I loved you. You just need to be very discrete while looking.’
He remained silent.
‘You see,’ there was a short silent break then ‘I am the same way, my husband William was a wonderful man who understood the stress of being a hermaphrodite.’
The word was out in the open finally.
‘Neither of my organs worked well enough to conceive, but there was some maturing just before he died. I might have been able to have a child if he had lived a few more months or years.’
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br> She said ‘I must go and rest now. I get so tired still.’ With that she was gone.
The next evening she came into his room again. They talked for a few minutes before he noticed her hand on his leg. ‘I can feel you touching me! I didn’t know it was possible!’
‘I have been working on that for weeks now. It is actually in your mind, the same as how you hear me.’
That evening she told him about many of the things hidden in the house and on the grounds. The last thing she did that evening was to show him the small vault in the back of her closet. Inside he saw all of her jewelry. ‘This ring belonged to my William, with practice he could read minds with it on. It enabled him to find out about how I was special, just like you.’
She lay down on her bed and he tucked her in with a kiss on the cheek like always.
As she bid him to do he took the ring with him and tried it on. It almost fit but was too tight. He set the ring on his night stand and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning he was sure it had all been a dream, until he saw the ring at the side of his bed. He picked it up and examined it. It was smaller for a man’s ring, but it was definitely masculine. Without thinking he slid it onto his finger, he was surprised to see that it fit perfectly. He tried to remove it. It was not stuck, but it didn’t want to come off. He could spin it on his finger and pull it past his innermost knuckle, it would go no further.
By the time he made it to work he was hearing slight buzzing noises when people were nearby. By the end of the day he could almost make out words. He drove home with a lot on his mind.
That evening Sugar appeared earlier than she normally did. He could sense her there, but she was not visible. As he prepared supper he set another table place. As he went to get the food he looked back wondering why. The family had always placed the evening meal on the table in serving dishes, he continued the tradition, more out of habit than any other reason. He found there was a comfort in the development of routines. As he passed her chair he sensed the chill he had become accustomed to when she was present. It seemed to be a little warmer this evening. ‘It must be my imagination’ he thought.
Then the chair moved slightly. He smiled.
As he finished his meal her voice softly spoke ‘Thank you for welcoming me to your table. I have no need for food any more. The thoughtfulness is important to me though.’
He thought ‘You’re welcome.’
She smiled in response as he cleaned off the table, put the leftovers in the fridge and did the dishes, including hers, although they were not used that evening.
After that evening he found it unnecessary to respond to her when she communicated with him. That evening he resumed the tradition of listening to music as they read or relaxed. Occasionally he would feel her reading his thoughts or hear her comment on a matter. Many times the matter concerned how to recognize a person who was like he was.
At work there was a woman slightly less than his age who stayed mostly to herself. Matilda always dressed severely for a woman of her age. Her hair was always in a tidy bun on the top of her head. For some reason he never was allowed to penetrate her thoughts as he had learned to do with the others. He began to notice her a little more, the way she walked, the way she would smile when they spoke. Beneath the severe exterior he found a charming, thoughtful, beautiful woman. ‘Yes, she is beautiful!’ he thought.
Her smile brightened even more. Then he noticed the ring on her finger. ‘That ring looked quite similar to the one Sugar gave to me. Is Matilda like me?’ Thoughts were running rampant in his mind.
‘Slow down, I am having trouble understanding you,’ she smiled as the words crossed into his mind.
His mind came to a sudden stop. ‘What?’
‘I said slow down, you are jumping from one subject to another and I am having problems understanding you. Don’t worry, only someone like us can hear what we say to each other.’
‘Are you really like me?’
A vision appeared in his mind. The woman had long hair to the middle of her back. She was naked. As she slowly turned to face him he realized she looked very much like he did with the exception of the small, perfectly formed breasts. ‘I am the feminine version of you. I have been aware of you for the last 5 years we worked together’ the voice told him. ‘I think you are worth the wait!’
They were lucky there wasn’t much work to be done that day. Their conversing took much of the afternoon. At 5 they both decided it was best to go home and think about all the things that were thrust into their lives that afternoon. This was all so new.
Tomorrow was Friday and the end of the work week.
Deuce went home with many unanswered questions. As he fixed dinner he heard the quiet movement of a chair behind him.
Before he could form a question to her, Sugar told him ‘…you have a lot on your mind this evening. Matilda is the granddaughter of William’s youngest sister. If you were to get together it will be OK because neither William nor the other side of her family are blood relative of yours.
Matilda was having much the same conversation with her Mother. She was only confirming what she already knew to be true.
Her mother told her ‘I once met your friend’s Aunt Sugar. If he is special to her, then he is a fine gentleman who will take good care of you. Proceed slowly and all will be well.’
The next day Deuce approached Matilda’s desk about 10 minutes before the beginning of the work day. He was thinking of how to ask her out that evening. She turned to face him with small tears in the corner of her eyes. He heard her voice in his head saying ‘Just ask me, it will be fine.’
He was thinking of how to say the words he had never used before when she just said ‘Yes!’ and handed him a slip of paper with her address and phone.
He wanted to sit with her at lunch, but the subject was too difficult to talk openly about. They communicated intermittently throughout the day, after all there was work to get done.
Her apartment was a small third floor walkup 2 blocks from his former apartment. Until her mother died, a few months ago, they had shared it for over 22 years. Her father had lived with them until the day he was killed in a traffic accident, she was 2 years old. The only things she remembered of him were the wonderful smile and soft voice when he spoke, and he sang like an angel. Bartholomew was very much like how she remembered him, she found that to be fascinating.
Dinner was at a lovely little restaurant that was hidden away part way down an alley. It was just off one of the main streets of town. Seated in a booth in the back corner they spoke of their lives, sharing the good and the bad, the difficult and the easy times and the happy and the sad. They both spoke of missing their parents a great deal. They spoke of knowing they were different than others and feeling out of place too many times.
They continued dating throughout the rest of the winter and spring. Their first kiss in late spring was magical.
On July 4th Deuce proposed to Matilda under the fireworks. He had managed to keep her from reading his thoughts about it. Later on she commented on how she had wondered why he took a sudden interest in NASCAR racing for the last month. ‘I should have known something was going on in your mind.’ she laughed.
Matilda insisted that they get married on Halloween at an old monastery out in the country.
Sugar liked the idea ‘Trust her on this one, it will make you very happy.’
Having never been with a woman, Deuce had no idea what to do on his wedding night. He confided that to Sugar. She told him of the various things he could do to satisfy Matilda. She even demonstrated them on him using a number of items and a mirror to show what they were doing. ‘Above all, if she is enjoyin
g what you are doing remember it for future use. Try various things on yourself, if you find them pleasurable she is likely to also. Listen to her words and body. After you do something to her allow her to try it on you too, if she desires. I know you have been taught to think like a man, but you do have a feminine side too.’
Deuce dropped Matilda off at the monastery the evening before Halloween. When he arrived for the ceremony he was surprised to see the entire place lit up. The noises from within sounded like a party.
The noise died down as he approached the front doors they opened wide without any visible assistance. He stepped in and they slowly, silently closed behind him. In front of him he saw a small stone altar in the distance. The priest stood to one side and indicated that he was to move forward. He felt like his body was doing so without his willing it to.
Once at the altar the soft candlelight in the room became brighter and brighter. Music was playing softly in the background. The lighting on the sides died back down and the only brightly lit area was the aisle. At the back of the room Matilda appeared with a man. He would later learn the man was her father. The music became louder and they started walking toward him. As the passed each row of seats people began to appear out of the darkness and stand at their seats.
Precisely at 8 PM the priest began the service. At 8:07 the ceremony was over, they were husband and wife. When they were asked to turn around to be presented the first thing he saw was his parents seated in the front row. Beside them were their parents. In the second row he saw Sugar and a person he learned later was William. Spreading out to the side and behind them he saw family and friends who had died over the years. The other side was Matilda’s family and friends.
The wedding feast began soon after and continued until 11:30 when the guests all filed by to wish them well. The last to greet them were Sugar and Matilda’s mother.
Sugar spoke ‘I must now leave you to go forth into eternity. Treat each other well and all will be as it should be. I will see you again when your time is through. I can finally be with my William again.’ She turned and vanished like all the rest had, precisely at midnight. The great hall was dark and empty when they turned to look behind themselves. They walked toward the light near the great doors and left. The doors closed as quietly and slowly as they had opened earlier.
Bartholomew and Matilda walked to the 1965 Oldsmobile, after starting the motor they turned to see the monastery disappear into a fogbank. A few minutes later the fog lifted and there was an open field. As they drove off the clouds parted and the stars began to dance, each with their own special twinkle.
From that day on he was known to the world as Bart.
They were compatible in all things. Of their 4 children only one boy was special like they were.
He lived into his 96th year and died in the 2nd week of November. She died the next fall just weeks before Halloween. They were both at the party in the monastery that year and walked off together into eternity precisely at midnight.
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I had all intentions of submitting this to the Halloween story contest. Sandy had other ideas. Between power failures and clean up I finally have the story completed, a few weeks late but….
I completed the story precisely at midnight.
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