Butterscotch

Butterscotch- this short story contains some language and mature themes.

Part One- The Dawning of a New Day.

“You’re leaving?!” Asked Sarah as she sat up slowly in bed. Her red lingerie was stunning next to her long brunette locks. Dutch opened the curtains, and the sunlight shown through the stained glass windows highlighting Sarah’s eyes in a way that he had never seen them before. She looked beatific, but angry just the same. She did not know that he had not planned on coming back.

“You’re so beautiful, but I’m sorry. I simply must catch the sh… plane. Last minute… Uh, I’ll see you later! I’ll tell you all about it!” And with a kiss on her cheek, Dutch knew just what he had done. He had sealed it with a kiss. Betrayal. His betrayal. As Dutch took a moment to think- he realized that he was about to break many promises on his short trip into outer-space on that, “plane.” Damn plane! He thought. Why did this have to all happen now?!

Part Two- Sarah’s Pain, and Her Favorite Goddamn, Butterscotch Pudding.

“Pudding, goddamnit! Only butterscotch pudding! And if it’s expired- you’re fired. Got it?!” Sarah said to her assistant, Alexandria- whose name is unimportant as she is just the help. Sarah understood Dutch would not be at her performance for the open mic night event where she would usually sing, and dance her ass off, but for this particular evening- she had planned something special for her man. Her sweet man. Something nice. Something really nice. Opera. It was a piece she had been working on for days, and that was unlike Sarah who could learn a song after hearing it only once, and she could even make it her own. It was like watching magic happen. Dutch was usually front row and center for her performances, but recently they were drawing quite the crowd. There was even talk that Sarah would soon be replacing the host. So, nowadays, due to crowd anxiety, Dutch would stand by the exit doors, and he would watch Sarah’s performances. He could be the first out the doors where he would immediately send Sarah a text on his way to his car. He said the same thing each time.

“Good job, babe. Gonna kill it again next time! Hugs!” Then he would go into his office and meet with the out-of-this-world Constance.

A NOTE ON CONSTANCE AND DUTCH!

*She was not who she pretended to be. Living here on Earth as Dutch’s side-dish- Constance began to feel unappreciated, and it made her want to go back home. Back to her beautiful mothership. Maybe all the way back to the place that she called her home. She missed it. All she had to do was snap her fingers twice, and it would appear stealthily, and invisible to the naked eye. The mothership. Oh, the mothership! She thought. To be back on board would be so nice. So nice indeed.

Constance was also in desperate need of some heeling tonic from her great leader- Jeremy. They would make the trip worth it today! It erased her migraines. She had never gone a single day on Earth without a migraine. Oh, the pain! Ugh! Oh! The fucking pain!

*Dutch knew. Do not ask how, but he knew. She was not who she said she was, but could she, would she, help take him away?! He heard of the motherships, and of places far, far away, and he wanted to see one before his death. Life on Earth for him was just okay, but he wanted more!

Part Three- Her Hot, Wasted, Dutch Oven Was All Ready for Children.

Constance wanted children so badly that she would poke tiny holes in Dutch’s condoms. He never knew. Nope, he stupidly never caught on. Constance decided to take Dutch back to her mothership where they both could refuel. A full evaluation would commence. She lightly sedated him, but she should have given him more! Off they went within seconds with the simple snap of two fingers.

Part Four- One Night Against the Stars!

Dutch woke up in a cold sweat. He could see Earth from the mothership’s large windows. If only Sarah could see this! He thought. Where am I? Then he saw Constance, and Jeremy closing in on him with unidentifiable objects in their hands. She held a large glass of tonic, and she did not spill a drop. Scared-Dutch closed his eyes. I want to go back! Back to open mic night! Then his mind went blank. An intense adrenaline rush hit him hard, and he stole the bottle of tonic from Constance. He was that thirsty!!!

Part Five- “Butter-what?!”

“Ummm…” stuttered the help. “They were out of butter… whatever you call it. They’re out. May I get you…”

“Ahhh!” Sarah screamed, and she threw her expensive bottle of orange liqueur against the wall, and it shattered, and splattered all over Alexandria who then screamed bloody murder, and she slammed the dressing room door, and she left never to return. Glass had splintered her left temple and clavicle. Blood trickled down her dress, and she cried as she got into her private car and drove away home.

Sarah had a secret, and if the scans read true, a tumor in her brain could quite possibly make this her last performance, and there was no Dutch. Oh, where did he have to go? Why is he always leaving me? She thought. Then Sarah got up as she heard her name being announced. She was up. It was her turn! She knew she could make this a memorable experience for all who attended, but if only Dutch had been there standing in the doorway- she would not be as upset.

Well, the orange liqueur fanned the fire, at least the few shots she had had before she threw the bottle, and Sarah took to the stage just the same as if it had been the most perfect day of all days! The lights dimmed, and the brilliant strings chimed her in. Gianni Schicchi- “O Mio babbino caro.” A song that touched even her own cold heart. Oh, Dutch! If only you were here. If only I could have sung this for you! Thought Sarah as she felt a seizure heading her way. It was soon going to hit full-force. Oh, she had to get out of there! But then she heard a silly, familiar sound. It was Dutch. He had made a swift return from the craziness of the motherships, and all he had to do was snap his fingers twice. He had made it back hoping to hear his loved one sing, but alas, he was too late. She wanted to sing the song again for him. She wanted to so badly, but instead she pulled Dutch close to her face, and said,

“You were always the face in the crowd that I looked for. The face I needed to see. I needed to see you to keep on going. I needed… you.” And those were her last words. He had come back home for nothing.