Dedicated to my precious daughter-dog Gracie who crossed the rainbow bridge on 3/27/10 and to my beloved boy-dog Moose whom I am sure was there to meet her.

All You Have To Do Is Call

Moose

"I heard you call out."
"Catherine, This bond we share…this connection."
"Yes, that strong."

--A Distant Shore

Part 1

Chapter 1

Vincent settled his back further against the headboard of the bed with his beloved in his arms. He looked forward to this ritual each evening. Catherine ensured that there was a fresh pot of tea to hand, its misty steam tasting of relaxation and confidences shared. Vincent busied himself with snuffing the candles until very few of their flames remained, casting the surrounding chamber into vague, muffled shadow. Their bed became an island apart, warm and secure, enveloping them in its comforting embrace. Then began the sharing back and forth of what the day had held both Above and Below; soothing away stresses, celebrating triumphs and looking toward the future.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to determine the best way to approach what was weighing on his mind. About twice a year he conducted mapping trips that took him from the inhabited tunnels. These journeys had always meant joy and discovery. They granted him, however briefly, that cleansing freedom to be his true self without the sometimes chafing restriction of other’s perceptions and tolerances…

As Vincent had grown from childhood to adolescence his need for solitude and introspection had also grown. During those first years he’d had Devin to counteract those tendencies. Devin’s exuberance and unfettered sense of adventure were the perfect foil to Vincent’s growing caution and reserve. Their devotion to each other needed no tie of blood, they had their own kinship, unquestioning and unquestioned, it just was.

When Devin left – "Was driven away!" his darker self hissed - that balance was lost and his feelings of differentness and isolation increased. He truly loved his tunnel family, but sometimes their emotions and expectations tightened his throat and clawed at his vitals until he thought he must escape or go mad. He would wander the uninhabited tunnels endlessly, their quiet, stone-scented darkness a balm to a spirit as frayed and wispy as the mare’s tail clouds he imagined but knew he would never see. Neither the repeated dire warnings of danger nor the heavy pall of worry he sensed from his father could still his restlessness. The burden of guilt this caused only increased his stress and conspired to snatch away what peace he was able to find in those wanderings.

Knowing how torn he was between fulfilling his own needs and the responsibility he felt toward the community, Father had sought him out. He found Vincent sprawled on his bed with an arm thrown across his eyes.

Tension was evident in every line of his body and seemed to crackle through the air like a living thing. If allowed to build until it exploded outward, the effect would be bloody destruction and possible death to those Vincent loved. To be followed by his own upon the realization of what he had done. If not meted out by another it would be accomplished by his own hand, of that Father was sure. Directed inward and…it did not bear thinking about. The brittle shattering of that brilliant mind would be worse than physical death and the result would be the same; that vital spark that was his life’s blood, and theirs, would be lost.

Shuffling into the chamber, Father pulled a chair to the edge of the bed and carefully lowered himself into it. Laying a gentle hand on his son’s rigid arm he leaned slightly towards him.

"Vincent I have a task for you if you will accept it. Will you sit up and talk to me?"

Vincent did as he was asked, striving to keep the despair and weariness from shadowing his voice.

"Of course I will Father. What would you have me do?"

"I know in the past I have tried to limit your forays away from the inhabited tunnels due to concerns for your safety. I have re-evaluated my position on this particular issue. As our community grows so too does our need for resources. Someone has to make surveys to help determine the course of this expansion. Do you think you would be able to assume this responsibility? It would mean leaving the main hub for some days and you would be alone during that time."

Father leaned back and fixed Vincent with a piercing gaze as he awaited a response.

Vincent’s air of dejection had changed to one of interest and then guarded excitement as he had listened. This was exactly what he had longed for! He could have the healing solitude he craved and at the same time ease the lives of those who made his own possible. How had Father known? Still, what was right always would, must, take precedence over what he wished.

"Do you really want me for this task Father? Surely there is someone older and more experienced that you could send."

"I have given this careful consideration and you are the perfect man for the job. Your powers of observation and your analytical mind are extraordinary. Of course, I could send someone else but I believe you are the best choice."

Had Father just called him a man? He looked at his parent more closely and knew he had spoken the absolute truth. This realization caused an unconscious subtle shift of being, a quiet confidence that had been lacking before.

"Then I’ll do it."

"Good! Good! We have much to discuss. Please join me in the library when you’re ready and we can decide how best to proceed."

It was not until he neared that chamber that Father allowed a slow smile to cross his face. Despite his deep seated, and he hoped well hidden, trepidation, this decision had been the right one. Only then did he come to the realization that he had just seen his son take his first firm steps into manhood, and he was very proud of him.

Absorbing this new reality, this broader life, Vincent sat very still for long minutes before squaring his shoulders and following in his father’s footsteps.

Chapter 2

With a slight sigh he brought himself back to the present. How could he possibly leave her? In the past he had always looked forward to these exploratory trips with pleasure and anticipation. Now he found that he was torn.

As his eyes swept the room it still seemed unreal, even after several months of this wonderful, shared existence. But it was true, her clothing mingled delightfully with his and among his personal treasures lay new ones. There were beautiful eggs of multi-colored glass and crystal, a delicate owl mask, a wooden frame containing a crayon drawing of a violin that had been the tunnel children’s invitation to a special concert.

His gaze paused on a stuffed doll with bright blue eyes and a small nub of a nose that both amused and unsettled him. "For our daughter," Catherine had said quietly as she unpacked it. Coming up behind her, Vincent had reached forth a hand that could not quite make contact, not yet ready to fully believe such a tender miracle was possible. Gently setting the doll aside, Catherine had drawn him to her, taking them both to a place where the impossible was made possible, and dreams, even those he dared not have, could come true.

As he mused, Catherine shifted slightly from her comfortable position at Vincent’s side and lifted her head from the hollow of his shoulder. Placing a slender hand to the side of his face she gently redirected his wandering attention.

"You seem very distracted tonight. Did something happen today to upset you?"

Vincent’s voice held just a trace of amusement as he answered.

"No, nothing happened. It was actually a very good day. Samantha is joyfully engaging her newly discovered talent for flirting, although Kipper and Geoffrey seem to find it far less pleasant than she does. Mouse and Arthur have discovered William’s latest hiding place for our store of fresh apples. I am hoping to be absent when William comes to that realization. Or perhaps not, that particular…conversation…might be worth experiencing, at least from a safe distance."

The slight smile faded as he once again lapsed into a brooding, distancing, silence.

Catherine’s smile faded as well as she watched him with growing dismay. He seemed to be reverting to the habit of withdrawing into himself when facing issues he found uncomfortable. Oh Vincent, don’t do this. You’re not alone. Not anymore.

"Come back to me Vincent, you’re so far away. Whatever is bothering you I want to know and help if I can. There are the two of us now. Remember?"

Vincent sighed, releasing a burden. He breathed in deeply, her presence calming and strengthening him as it always did. "Yes, there are the two of us now."

He took her hand gently in his, running his thumb thoughtfully across the knuckles at the base of her fingers. "For so long I was alone Catherine…so very alone… even here, among those who accepted me. I longed…with a soul deep hunger… for that gentle lover’s touch that belonged only to me…that existed only for me...even knowing it to be impossible. At times that pain ran so deep…as if, should I spread my arms…I would become vague and insubstantial…to crumble into faint dust…taken by the wind…unknown and unremarked. And the longing…to give that touch…ran just as deep. You have brought an end to that aloneness Catherine." His fingers curled over hers in gentle affirmation, tightening briefly before fully releasing them. "Thank you for reminding me."

He gathered himself with a visible effort. "There is something that I need to talk to you about."

Oh love; you will never feel that pain again. Catherine drew herself up to sit by his side with her legs comfortably tucked under her. Her whole attention focused on what he had to say.

"Then I want to hear it."

"For many years it has been my responsibility to make periodic exploratory trips beyond the inhabited tunnels. In the past these trips have proved to be very valuable in planning the necessary expansion of our community and locating new resources to ease the lives of those who make this place their home. I have seen wondrous things and truly enjoyed them for their own sake. But now…"

"But now?"

The words were pulled from him, unwilling. "But now that you are truly here with me I am very reluctant to go and I am ashamed of my selfishness. Yet a part of me strains toward the feeling of freedom that these trips have always provided, again making me selfish by placing my wants above your own."

"It is not selfish to want to be with those you love. I feel the same way about you. Nor is it selfish to want to experience new and possibly exciting things. It is ok to want to be free to just be yourself by yourself. When we made the commitment to share this life together we both knew compromises would have to be made and that we would face separations."

His breath gusted, stirring wisps of luminous gold. "Yes" He was still so reluctant to accept that he deserved to want, to need, just like anyone else.

She had to distract him from this unfounded guilt! An impossible, clichéd scenario occurred to her and Catherine had to struggle to keep a straight face. As a means of redirection, it was wickedly perfect.

Vincent caught her sudden change in mood and looked at her in confused inquiry.

"Just think of this as an out of town business trip."

She shook her finger at him in mock sternness "But I do NOT want to hear that you have been spotted keeping company with some cocktail waitress in Vegas and if you value your safety there had better not be lipstick on your collar when you get home!"

Vincent felt his jaw drop in incredulous shock. He was totally unaware of acceding to the light pressure of a feminine finger, closing it again. "Catherine! You know I would never…"

Feeling amusement sparkle through the bond, the absolute absurdity of her comment finally registered in his bemused brain. With a look of fond exasperation, he pulled his love close as their shared laughter softly filled the chamber.

---------------

Once the issue had been faced and the decision made, Vincent had felt the familiar anticipation growing in him at the prospect of the trip. He and Catherine had spent hours poring over the detailed journals of previous journeys until her excitement very nearly matched his own.

"Oh Vincent, these are incredible. You make these places come alive! If I close my eyes I can almost touch them! I never thought I would say this, but why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be out taming the wilderness or something?"

Vincent was thoroughly amused. "You make it sound as if I should be wandering in the woods somewhere with a flintlock over one shoulder, a coonskin cap on my head and the requisite mangy looking hound at my heels."

Confused, she could not help smiling back. "What do you mean?"

"Surely a woman of your vast knowledge and experience is familiar with Davey Crockett and Daniel Boone."

"Vincent? Davey Crockett?"

There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he answered. "Oh yes. Father had an arrangement with an understanding helper that allowed Devin and me to watch those two television programs. As children it was one of the few bribes guaranteed to ensure perfect behavior, or as near to it as we could manage, for at least one afternoon and evening a week. The barest hint that we might lose that particular privilege was enough to accomplish near miracles of obedience. Of course, the next day we always made up for it by hunting for wild Indians and ‘bars’. We even received matching coonskin caps as Winterfest gifts that year."

Vincent shook his head, a broad smile brightening his face as he recalled those relatively carefree days. "Father was less than thrilled when Devin smuggled a half grown duckling to our chamber that he had caught in the park. We were going to have our own pet goose, just like Hannibal. Fortunately for the duckling, we were not successful in keeping that particular plan a secret for very long." The smile turned into a quiet chuckle "To this day I wonder if that little adventure has something to do with Father’s prohibition of pets."

The mental image of her oh so proper husband creeping through the tunnels with a coonskin cap clapped firmly to his head and hunting imaginary ‘bars’ was just too much and sent her into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Soon both of their faces were pink; hers from exertion, his from rueful embarrassment. Finally gaining some semblance of control she started singing ‘Daveee, Davey Crockett, king of the wild frontier!’ in an off- key voice. This sent her into further paroxysms of laughter and sent Vincent’s eyes heavenward in search of patience.

"I love these stories of your childhood. What other TV shows were you hooked on?"

All traces of humor fled his face. "After Devin left television lost its appeal for me. It was just not the same without having him there to share it."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…"

He pressed his index finger to her lips. "Hush, Catherine. Never be sorry. That is all in the past. Devin has returned to us and I love to share these things with you, both the good and the bad. I have enjoyed reliving it just as much as you have enjoyed hearing about it."

Trailing that finger slowly across her lips and to the edge of her jaw, he lightly traced the scar there, eyes darkening with a sudden unmistakable intensity. "If however you feel compelled to make it up to me I’m sure I can devise something…suitable."

Leaning into his touch, she answered in a voice of richest wine. "Hmmm, I can just imagine. Let’s put this journal away and we can discuss it."

Dropping his head to nuzzle her neck, pulsing life that is my life, he whispered quietly. "That is an excellent suggestion. Be aware though that the particular… discussion… I have in mind may take some time."

Forcing air through suddenly constricted lungs, she answered lower still. "Take all the time you need."

Pressing a kiss to that sensitive spot, Vincent rumbled "Come…"