Another Cupid Valentine

With a Twist .... <G>

Claymore, finishing up the bit of paperwork that remained before
the Town Council meeting that night, decided that he was need of some
excitement in his life. After all, it was almost February, and Cupid
was right here in Schooner Bay! And Claymore, being such a wonderful
person, could only be kind enough to put himself in a position so that a
woman would be smitten instantly. Peering out the front window of his
office, he grinned.
"Oh, ho! Mrs. Muir's car is in town! That must mean she's around."
Rubbing his hands together in glee, he added, "And if she's HERE and not
in Gull Cottage, that means she's alone. This is her lucky day!"
Grabbing his hat, and humming happily, he set out. Basically, when it
came to the lovely Mrs. Muir, he wouldn't mind either being shot by
Cupid or being the â€̃shot-ee', so to speak! Maybe this time, it would
last longer than it had the LAST time Cupid had "made" them a couple!
In fact, just imagining that horrible ghost's reaction should Mrs. Muir
fall madly in love with him, CLAYMORE, made Claymore's grin even wider.
He wouldn't even consider the other way around ...
As he sauntered down the street, Claymore happened to glance into an
alley, and he stopped when he saw TWO shadowy figures with an arrow on
the string! After a quick look around and realizing no one was in
sight, he slunk into the alley, creeping up on the conversing figures.
Two Cupids? Claymore thought that was strange, he had only heard of
one! But before him were two figures ... an older, stooped one swathed
in gray who gave Claymore the willies and sent an icy shiver down his
back, and a younger one with blond curls and a baby face, wearing some
sort of white garment which barely covered him.
"Indecent!" muttered Claymore to himself. He didn't know if they
were supposed to be love gods or WHAT, but they weren't quite the sort
of figures he had pictured. According to all the Greek statues he'd
seen, the young gods were handsome but some of their main "parts" had
fallen off! These two looked whole enough. Must be imposters. He
debated briefly about confronting them, but his odds weren't that good.
He wasn't sure he could take two of them. Besides, they WERE armed.
Close up, the arrows didn't look all that piddly, somehow. He decided
to back out carefully, and meander on his way.
Then suddenly Claymore heard smatterings of their conversation, and
his face went white. Good heavens, by the talk, one of the figures was
Death! DEATH? What would Death be doing in Schooner Bay, talking with
Cupid? Claymore still wasn't sure which one was which, but he couldn't
imagine a god of love looking so dour and frightening as the grayfigure. WHAT were they talking about? Switching places? Absurd! No
wonder they were laughing. What a silly idea. That sort of thing only
happened in stories. Very BAD stories, too. Not at all the kind
Claymore liked to read. Not that he liked to read anything more taxing
than "Don Speed" anyway. There were enough books in THAT series to last
him for a lifetime of reading!
Just then the figures parted. Claymore shrank back against the wall
behind the garbage can. They appeared to bump into each other, and both
dropped their quivers of arrows. Arrows, Claymore realized, which
looked an awful lot alike. Obviously if someone was shot by one arrow,
they would be in love with the next person they saw, but if they were
shot with the other, they were dead! He certainly hoped those two knew
whose arrows were whose! Oh, he HAD to tell someone! Who? Mrs. Muir
was the obvious one, because she would tell the Captain, and if anyone
could do something in this situation, it was the Captain. Except that
Claymore wouldn't put it past Ole Spookface to have brought Death to
Schooner Bay in the first place! Probably wanted Mrs. Muir shot by
Death so she could join him as a spirit in Gull Cottage, and THEN
Claymore would be tormented by the two of them! But that wouldn't
happen now that Claymore Gregg was aware and ready for action!
He jumped and squealed as a spider ran over his hand, then held his
breath and looked around. Oh, thank goodness! No one had heard him!
Sticking his hands in his pockets so they were safe, he snuck out of the
alley, keeping a sharp eye out for either Cupid or Death, deciding he
really didn't want to be shot by either one. Forgotten was his idea of
meeting up with Mrs. Muir while Cupid was in town! What if Cupid had
Death's arrow, and USED it? Down the road, he could see Millie and Mr.
Becker talking. As he approached, Claymore considered them as a
couple. He had never heard that they were seeing each other. Millie
was certainly nice enough. Very nice. In fact, Claymore thought,
brushing against an annoying sting on his neck, she was adorable. He
loved hearing her voice on the phone! He could call her up and ask her
for any person in Schooner Bay, and she would connect him to that person
in an instant. Yes, indeedy, she was a fine woman! And he knew just
how to really make her day.
As he approached, a silly grin on his face, the two turned to him and
Mr. Becker greeted him civilly. Millie grinned and said, "Hullo,
Claymore! Have you heard the latest in Cupid's exploits?"
"No," he admitted, then leered, "but I'd sure LIKE to, from you!"
Mr. Becker rolled his eyes, but Millie merely simpered at Claymore.
"Well, it was old Mrs. Peterson, who's 92 if she's a day, you know! She
was lying on what was supposed to be her death bed when someone saw the
shadow of an archer, and next thing you know, she was sitting up,
throwing her arms around old Doc Feeney, then dancing about the room,
and even running down the hall after the doctor!"
"Wonder what she saw in HIM?" Claymore grumbled. "How's YOUR mother,
Millie?"
"Oh, she's fine now, thanks. Hardly ever mentions Mr. Petrie's name
now!" Millie said, hastily. "Really, Claymore, it IS exciting about old
Mrs. Peterson! I mean, she was always so prim and proper, don't you
know?"
Suddenly Claymore seemed to snap out of his adoration of Millie, and
started wondering about the arrows. What would happen if, when those
two figures had dropped their quivers, they had indeed gotten mixed up?
Oh, no! That would mean that Cupid really had Death's arrows, and
that's why Delbert's mother had acted so out of character! She wassupposed to have died, but instead she had fallen in love with Doc
Feeney!
A shrill scream sounded further down the street, and a young girl
dropped on the sidewalk. A crowd gathered immediately. Claymore ran
up, closely followed by Millie and Mr. Becker. The girl appeared to
have just collapsed, and the boy with her had no idea what had
happened. In no time, the ambulance was there, and the girl was taken
to the hospital, CPR being performed on the way. Now Claymore was SURE
the arrows had been mixed up! He decided he had better hide quickly --
obviously Cupid could be looking at him as a likely candidate, after
all!
Turning to make his escape, Claymore shut his eyes. He felt his arm
pierced by what he was SURE was an arrow. He yelled, opened his eyes,
and saw Martha. Part of his mind was saying, â€̃no, it can't be her, not
Martha, it HAS to be Mrs. Muir!', but that little denial was swamped by
his fear. He began shrieking madly, "I'm dying! Help! Help me,
Martha! You're the only one who can save me! You're sure a sight for
sore eyes, and you've always got something for a man's appetite! Oh,
I'm too young to die! Why me? WHY ME? Martha, you've got to get me to
Gull Cottage! I need to talk with the Captain about what death is
like! Oh, but I don't want to go! PLEASE don't let them take me away
from you!"
He fought off the restraining hands of Mr. Becker and Millie, and
fell at Martha's feet. "Save me, Martha! Please, save me! I'm dying
here, DYING!"
Martha looked calmly down at him. "Dying, are you? Well, I hear you
have your funeral planned, isn't that right, Mr. Becker?"
"Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say he HAS." Mr.
Becker sighed.
"No, Martha, you don't understand!" Now Claymore looked up at her
wildly, then over at Millie and Mr. Becker. "Wait a minute! I bet you
two are in cahoots with Death! After all, when people phone in
emergency calls, YOU, Millie, are the one to pass them on to the right
person, being the main telephone operator in town! You could so easily
get the wrong person! And Mr. Becker, of course, YOU run the funeral
home! It's more business for you! Oh, I'm too young to go! I haven't
LIVED! There are so many girls to please, so many meals to eat ... so
much MONEY to gather! No, no, this isn't FAIR!"
"What's going on, Martha?" Suddenly Mrs. Muir was beside Martha,
looking at the grovelling, babbling Claymore on the sidewalk.
Claymore peered up, and saw the shadow of an archer again, this time
with the arrow pointing to Mrs. Muir. Figuring he had already been hit
by Death's arrow, Claymore realized that he may as well REALLY be the
hero of the day, and save Mrs. Muir and, by the same token, confound the
Captain who would otherwise be overjoyed! With a valiant effort,
Claymore shut his eyes and flung himself forward to get in the way of
the arrow meant for Mrs. Muir.
With a loud crash and a cry of pain, Claymore landed on a hard
surface. Panting, he fought free of something that seemed to be
restraining him, and looked around. He was on the floor of his bedroom,
beside his bed, tangled in the sheet! A nightmare! The entire episode
had been a horrible nightmare!
"Oh, I can't believe this happened to me! Oh, this is ghastly ...
TERRIBLE! What a nightmare!" He rubbed his head which had hit against
the arm of the sofa as he went over the side, and his elbow which had
connected sharply with the floor. Staggering to his feet, he limpedover to the mirror. "You look the same ... but are you REALLY the real
Claymore Gregg? The one and only, great and magnificent? You LOOK like
you are ... but how can I be sure? Oh, my heart. This is so bad for my
heart. It's practically jumping out of my chest! Oh, I wish I hadn't
said that." He pressed his hands to his chest and took a few deep
breaths. "Now, Claymore, calm down. Deep breath. You are fine. You
have not been hit by Death's arrow. There ... there IS no Death in
Schooner Bay ... just Cupid. Right? Ohhh, why am I talking to a
mirror? How can you know?"
He ranged around the room for a few minutes, rubbing at his sore
hip. "Who could I ask? Martha? Yes! Martha would know whether or not
I dreamt everything! Martha! The very person. While I'm at it, I can
thank her again for the lovely meals she has given me, and I may get a
good breakfast out of it. And if HE should appear, well ... maybe I can
get up my nerve to ask him. After all, if anyone would know about
Death, it would be Old Spooky!"
After convincing himself to calm down, Claymore dressed and set out
for Gull Cottage. As he was driving down the street, he saw Mr. Becker
and Millie embracing. Embracing! In the early morning, in the middle
of the street! Shouldn't they be WORKING? They broke apart when they
heard his car, and Millie laughed and waved at him. "Claymore! Did you
hear about old Mrs. Peterson?"
Old Mrs. Peterson! Claymore shrieked and his foot hit the gas pedal,
nearly running over the couple. Millie and Mr. Becker both shouted
after him, but he couldn't understand their words. He was terrified
that his dream might really have been pre --- pre --- whatever the word
was that meant telling the future! HAD he seen the future? Was this
mixup with Cupid and Death something that was GOING to happen? What
were the chances? Now he just HAD to reach Gull Cottage. All the
answers to every question were at Gull Cottage. "Ohhh, this can't be
happening ... ohhhh ..." he moaned.
He saw Ed come out of the police station, waving at him. Slamming on
the brakes, Claymore leaned out of the car. "What is it?" he said
crossly. "I wasn't speeding!"
"Never said you WAS, Claymore," Ed said, "just wondered if you'd take
me up to the hospital. Old Mrs. Peterson just kicked the bucket and
they need ..."
"She's running after Doc Feeney STILL?" interrupted Claymore, "and
knocking over the cleaning ladies' pails?"
Ed stared at him in silence.
"What?" Claymore said, irritably. "Really, Ed, this isn't a good
day."
"I can see that." Ed said, slowly. "Reckon you're okay to be
driving? I mean, what with your talk and all ... and we have Council
meeting tonight ..." He climbed into the car, and turned to Claymore
again. "Just get me to the hospital safely, okay? They need a
policeman's signature on the death certificate, and I'm elected."