Mountain goat grace

Comic30 - JulietJones2
The Heart of Juliet Jones by Stan Drake – published in 1961

To be honest, Pelion had no idea what to wear when she left the Jones’ house in the morning. Julie had just said there would be a “walking tour,” but she didn’t specify how long. Three hours, yes, three. That sort of made Pelion’s decision to wear high heels a bit … foolish after the first hour’s stroll around the many neighborhoods that made up the bunny-rabbit-cute little town of Devon.

After the third hour, the decision had made it all the way up to her most cockamamy-hairbrained ideas ever. But when Mother sends her dresses – the dolled-up ones with plenty of shimmer as well as sex appeal, it’s hard to let them sit in a closet collecting dust all day. Sex appeal was meant to appeal, after all. And the one she had chosen just couldn’t go without heels. So there you go. The decision had become final. But her ankles were paying for it.

Now she was on a second-tour hike through a snow-capped forest, on her way to who-knows-where with the psychotic thrill artist himself, Mr. Dundee Bizarre. This glimmer and glam dress was clearly not meant for him. If he had any sense of masculinity whatsoever, he would obviously scuttle up nice and close to her and just plain hit on her. But not this guy. He’s gotta drag her cold ass through the woods and lead her around like his own little puppy dog. Pelion thought not. At least, not anymore.

Suddenly, her foot slipped around a rock and her ankle almost twisted before she caught herself. Dundee shocked the living heckfire out of her by coming to her side to help. He held her arm as she got her footing again.

“No girl scout in your background, eh, Ms. Van Every?” he said. What a putz, Pelion thought. Still criticizing her after she almost took a tumble into melted snow drifts and mud.

“What did you expect from high heels?” she retorted. “Mountain goat grace?” After pausing to remove her heel and rub down her ankle, Pelion decided to call it a day. “Besides which, I’m not curious anymore. Just damp, discouraged, and my ankle hurts. Which way to the showers?”

“I told you I was leading you to the truth, Ms. Van Every,” he explained. “You’ll meet it head-on before I guide you home. Come on!”

As he held out his hand in invitation, Pelion pursed her lips deep in thought. Maybe there was something here, after all.


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