The Spelling Lesson

by AC Chapin

"What do you have there Ray?"
	Ray Vecchio, bent intently over his desk,  jumped a little in his chair.
"Nothing."  He smiled blandly up at Fraser and quickly stuck
the scrap of paper he'd been scribbling on into the middle of a pile
of files.  The pile swayed unsteadily, lurched, and then stabilized.
"What's up?"
	Fraser shrugged, this sort of thing was so embarrassing.  "Ah,
well, I was wondering . . . Diefenbaker seems to have misplaced  his
rabbit."  The white wolf hurried around from behind Fraser's legs
and looked up at Ray with unabashed pleading in his eyes, fairly groveling
on the floor.  "And he believes he may have left it here."
Ray grinned down at the wolf.  "Don't worry, big guy; Elaine found
it in the broom closet."  He dug the stuffed rabbit out of a desk
drawer.  
	Dief jumped up and took the rabbit delicately in his jaws.  With a doggy
wink at Ray, he carried his treasure off behind the file cabinet.  "You
sure got him spoiled, Fraser."
	Fraser sighed again.  "As I remember, it was you who bought it
for him."
	"He was *whining*."
	"He's becoming a big baby."  Fraser sat down in the chair
beside Ray's desk.  "It's the effect of the city."  He leaned
far over, out of his chair, so that the wolf would be sure to read his
lips.  "He seems to go out of his way to put me into embarrassing
situations for his own enjoyment."
	Ray grinned, practically laughing at him.  "Yeah, wonder who that
reminds me of."
	Fraser straightened and looked over Ray's cluttered desk.  His 
eyes caught the tail end of the scrap of paper where it stuck out of
the files.  "'So if I parish by fire tonight, it will be . . .'"
"Hey!  That's none of your business."  Ray pulled the stack
away from him and files cascaded over the desk, burying the rest of Ray's
work. 
	"I'm sorry Ray.  I thought it was part of a case."
	"Well -- maybe it is, but that doesn't mean you need to read it.
Sheesh!" 
	"Don't be so touchy, Ray.  It's wrong anyway."
 	Ray's head snapped back, gone suddenly from offense to defense.  "Whaddaya
*mean* it's wrong?"
	"Well, 'perish' with an 'e' means to die.  'Parish' with an 'a'
means a church community.  Judging from the context, I would assume --"
"You're criticizing my spelling now?"
	"It's a simple matter of meaning, Ray.   If you'd 'parished' I
suppose you'd end up 'dioceased'."  And he couldn't help chuckling
about that.  
	Diefenbaker fixed him with a leery eye and cuddled his rabbit 
between his paws.
	Ray just watched him, nodding slightly as the laughter passed.  "You
about done there, Fraser?"
	"I'm sorry, Ray."  Another burst of giggles came and went.
Ray pulled the paper out of the pile, crumpled it in his palm, 
and tossed it at the overflowing trashcan.  It hit at a fantastic angle
and wadded papers and candy bar wrappers exploded from the top of the
can.  Ray had already picked up his coat and walked away.  "C'mon,
Dief.  I'll buy you a sandwich."
	Fraser sat there, not sure whether the invitation included him.  He
suspected not.  The man was so moody sometimes.
	The mess on the floor finally drove him to action.  He compacted the
trash already in the can and then put the scattered waste  back in, in
a more stable configuration.  Strangely enough, there was one piece that
just wouldn't stay put.
	Finally, swallowing, perfectly aware that he was blushing, he 
smoothed it out.

	being where I am, its 
	easy to see the flow of you the yes and
	no of you, the 
	times I've said to you stop it, stop it, I
	only really meant, stop now or
	never stop, I don't think I can stand it if this isn't
	forever.  Theres something more than fear that makes my heart
	race and my hands sweat when you
	ask me to come out into the wild with you.
	So if I parish by fire tonight, it will be

	It ended there, but there were dozens of crossed-out words around the
margins, and where the  next line should have been was evidence of several
erasings.

   	"You just about done there, Benny, or you want to teach me to
use semicolons now?"
	When Fraser looked up, Ray was standing at the corner of the 
desk.  He nodded that slow, patient nod again.  
	Fraser stood, a little unsteadily.  His face was burning, and 
something in his belly twisted, threatened to betray him completely.
"I'm sorry, Ray."
	Those grey-green eyes looked right through him.  "You want me to
drive you guys home?"
	"Ah -- yes."  He reached out and placed the crumpled paper
on Ray's desk.
	Ray shrugged and turned his back.  "Keep it."
 	Fraser folded the paper carefully into his pocket and followed Ray
out the door.  Diefenbaker was refusing to look at him.  He 
couldn't think of anything reasonable to say.  "It's 'it's' actually,
not 'its', with the --"
	"It's what?"  Ray growled, not looking back.
	"It's wonderful, Ray."  And his stomach twisted once more
as he reached forward to put his palm to Ray's hand.  His fingers curved
around Ray's and their hands slipped for a moment into warm and perfect
contact, and then back out again.

	easy and natural.  Like the way the tide
	rises.

"The Spelling Lesson"  copyright 1996 by AC Chapin.
For James -- see, I'm working my way up.