After all these things, Bauctnumboulei would have skipped town on the wings and left. Leaving his wife and family... well, his children had all outgrown his house and home by then and had moved on, to start their own families and seeking to find their way in the world. All but the youngest of them, a new day had dawned. He wasn't completely gone yet but was always in and out of there. He too will be gone for good though, soon. Bauctnumboulei was said to have left his wife at home at the time and has not been back there since.

After that, according to the gossiping around the kitchen sinks and the steamy boiling pots. He met up with Beahon and made some transactions there amongst them, then parted ways and went their separate ways. He then lingered and languished a few decades more in the wilderness, away from friends as he did, yes. Also meeting other people and doing other things with them getting his new kids to do evil, as was the custom. Like getting into more mess. Before he resurfaced in the Americas to undress, sorry, I meant to say, unpack. To unpack and start his life over, another of his earthly lives, living it outback as Mr. Bernie Bourne. But his wife?

She was there, hanging out the laundry on the clothesline, the laundry she had been washing all morning, and feeling uncharacteristically so, you know, like, sublime, and upbeat. Not that she wasn't an upbeat and jovial type of person, to begin with. No, it wasn't that, but this. More like; she had never felt this energetic and upbeat after having washed so many dirty clothes in one sitting. Not even getting any help this time from her sister Jarden. But she was nonetheless upbeat and spirited.

She was humming a little melody from deep within when she looked up and saw him coming. Approaching from the southern end of the lonely gravel road, leading in. Usually, folks would have been more likely to be seen going the other way at that time of the day. Going to work, most likely, to go earn another day's pay, and they would have been coming back this way in the evening, heading for home with the feeding that the family would need; him. But this one person, this individual is coming north towards her. He's got her attention, that's for sure. He's coming still, his bodily outlines are becoming more pronounced, his fantastic features are more discernible now.

She had not seen such a person around these parts before, she was sure. At first, she thought it was a young boy because of the small frame. Dampening the initial joy and dousing the flame. The body size seemed more suited to a child than that of a grown man, but all of the other bodily features spoke rather loudly to her senses that this was a grown man. "Not from around these parts, I'm sure," she reasoned such from within her bore. "Around here," she said, "men are men and boys are boys but," as for this one? He's still coming, much closer now, and she's still doing what she's been there doing; washing and wringing out the clothes with strong powerful arms like those. Arms of a country type of a woman I'd supposed. That of a strong farm-country type of a woman. Still, full of homely charms.

"One of the good ones," she inside talked in a chorus. She's wringing the clothes almost dry before hanging them out on the clothesline to dry, really dry that is. Drying out what's left of the water residue in them after her strong-arm wringing, and squeeze. Ten minutes under the heat of this morning's sun, they'll be more than perfectly dry and ready for her to bring them in. To go inside for the next one, the next tender treatment, ironing. It wasn't a mere coincidence why she was there hanging out the clothes on the line as the stranger came abreast of her where she was and eyeing him. It was deliberate, she wanted to be on her feet when he got this close to delivering it. Just in case, you know! And that is where she is now, on her feet. And he, look at him, he's so sweet! He's just about to greet her, so. Listen up while you continue looking on and eat hers. (^..^).

"Howdy ma'am."

"Well, hello there. How are you? Are you from around here, no?"

"No, just passing through."

"Well, want to sit down and rest your feet awhile, you looked tired, yes?"

"Yes ma'am, yes, thank you."

"Care for a drink, something cool perhaps, you must be thirsty, yes?"

"Yes please, some cool water would be nice."

"Coming up, you just wait right here, I'll be back in a jiffy."

It was as if she was telling him the answer she wanted, from me, the correct answer. Her correct sort of answers as she sees fit. Now, look at this. Look at her as she goes. Going, still going... Going up the three-rung stairs now, to the back door. She's pushing the door open. Be careful now, don't let her catch you looking, she might see you looking at her as she's constantly turning and looking back at him still standing there, and you? What are you doing here? He's leaning a shoulder up against the stick, the stick he had dragged in with him. Or was it the stick that had dragged him in with it, to sin? Anyway, he's here, and...

She has gone inside now and is out of sight. Right. The young man is looking around, searching for something to mop his brow bright - "Or brown?"

"Well, maybe." He seems to have found it, oh, no, it's not that, the cloth! It's a smooth piece of board of some sort, he has rearranged it somewhat and is now sitting down on it and preparing to lift his feet up and kick you in your ho... Oh no, don't bother with that, but...

"What, why?"

"Because he wanted to finish what he was about to start." Settling himself down now, back up against the tree, that same tree that is supporting one end of the clothesline and him, not me.

Slowly he's looking around, his eyes scanning the scene. Look, she's coming back, with a large jug of some sort in one hand and a drinking glass in the other. Another woman is hopping along behind her elbow. They're communicating, in hushed tones, in whispers, saying something of the unknown, to him.

"Look at you, you seemed a lot better already, sit-sit, sit right back down, and relax." He was fixing himself to get up and greet them on the approach, but she was rather forceful in the command for him to remain seated. So, he did. "This is my sister Jarden," she said. "You know, I just remember to ask, what is your name?"

"Ber-Bern, Bernie," he said, nervously. As he was heaving himself up somewhat, supporting his weight with his left hand as he offered them both the right, in a swap. "Hi Bernie," she said quite chirpily, yes, the other woman, Jarden. Jarden sidestepped her a bit and popped herself out from behind her sister's abyss, I mean, from behind her sister. With an outstretched arm, she said, "Hi," to the mister, "nice to meet you sir." Meanwhile, Meighen, the elder of the sisters, she who was the first of the two women to meet him. "Jarden's sister" as she was known to him up until this point of the evening, and even beyond. She still didn't give him a name. However, she was quick to hand him the drinking glass after he was done greeting them both, just saying, "Here, have some of this, you look really parched, no?"

"No, I don't need an excuse to drink a cold one with my crew, I mean, with people like you. Or do I?"

He was musing about this with them, upon the misty smiley glint from the eye, beckoning at her to come in and try. They laughed. He reached up a heavy right hand from where he had sat back down before taking the drinking glass. It was cold to the touch since you'd asked. He hesitated for a brief moment looking in the glass at the water before lifting it to his thirsty lips and sucking cool clear water in like a glutton. The sisters just stood there watching, staring at him as if it was nuttn, I mean, nothing.

"So, where are you off to?" She queried him again as she was walking away on a soft shoe, her back towards him now, but not stopping from looking over the shoulder at him, not you. She'd turned around and was walking back to the place where she was sitting before and washing. Look, she's washing some more, squish squish squish, squish squish squish, squishing away with her hands like this, washing the clothes. Flashing him the occasional full-fledged glance every now and then as things were to go. But Bernie knew that she was watching him continuously like, like from long ago. But as for her?

Jarden was still standing there by her side, her arms still folded across her breasts, as if to hide, it. Trading glances back and forth between Meighen her sister, and him, yes, my sis. "No place in particular," he said in response to her queries, like trying to thrill her, with verbal berries. I was just headed into town to see if I could find a job and a place to stay and settle down. The place first preferably, and then the job. He was heard saying this over a grunt to sit down and a sob. "A man has got to earn his keep, you know."

"Could you see yourself staying around a place like this? Maybe we could find you a job if you don't mind it here..." But sis? Jarden is looking at her now, more like staring, staring at her. Burning deep, inquiring gazes into her sister. Arms still folded across her chest of drawers, mister. She turned around and walked away while looking back every now and then with nothing more to say. She's back in the house now, and the door swung shut behind her - blow-wow.

"But, but how?"

"Don't ask me bro. go ask her, she might know! Go. No?"

Bernie has not yet responded to that question. And she has not said another word yet either, except one. "Gosh!" She stopped the washing for just a passing, moment, and looked at him steadfastly, looking. He looked a whole lot better already, rested, and refreshed, yes. She starts up again, the washing, squish, squish, squish. "They must be really depending on you to find a job quickly, eh? The family must be depending on you to earn some money to send back home, no?" She said this while continuing to scrub away at the suddy wet gown.

"Ugh, no, there's no family. I'm a loner type of person, just a traveling man trying to find a place I can call home. And, yes, a job." Oh god, look! There's purpose in the scrubbing now, and another strange little sob. Lots of purposes as a matter of fact; look at that. Wow! She was to ask him again about finding a job around those parts, but that was after dinner and after dark. He accepted the dinner. That was not the only thing that he would have accepted from within her, even.

Bernie was different from Shad in a myriad of ways, it would seem. Some of those were to come to light right here in this small town to gaze on in his dreams. Unlike how things were with Shad, Bernie was not going to pass up on the chance for a night or two in a warm bed, the bag, in the hay, even. Luckily for him, the bag of hay wasn't the first thing offered up to him. It wasn't his first choice, (that's so very nice, isn't it?) He spent that night in a very warm bed in the house of Miss Jarden and her sister, Meighen. Never again did he change from that arrangement, not until the ride out of there and out of town in a tornado several decades later, as his new engagement.

Well, he did change things up a bit when he had to move out of that and into this. Like, when he'd moved out of the guest room and sis, and into the master's bedroom of his, and hers, like, of their very own house in another town not very far away from those, and into life as a married man, again. But without her knowing that much about him. Yet, he's married to her now, at this point in the game, to Mrs. Bourne, the new name. Mrs. Meighen Bourne.

This story is told from a Carib-Jamericanadian perspective, with a twisted comedic edge. Presented (sometimes) in richly blended language mix of, nonsense talk, sensational spelling, double entendre, and Jamaican patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting. Yeah man, a Jamaica yaad mi cum fram. Sorry, I meant to say, I'm Jamaican-born and bred, okay? Yes, wordplay is the order of the day around here. Please join us again tomorrow for more.