Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Benjamin Laskin

  Malkah nodded and forced a broken smile.

  Ellen and Chauncey made their way over to Malkah’s table.

  “Hey cuz,” Ellen chirped. “Happy birthday! Mind if we join you for some dessert? We won’t stay long.”

  “Um, sure…”

  “You remember my cousin Malkah, right, Chance?” Ellen said to Chauncey Matterson as they pulled up chairs and sat down.

  “I do now,” the professor said. “You were in a class of mine some years back, weren’t you?”

  “That’s right,” Malkah answered. “Psych 201.”

  “Yes…well, I had no idea that you two were related. But the resemblance is obvious to me now.”

  Beverly said, “Do you guys need a menu?”

  “Just tea for me,” Chauncey said. “Rose hip, please.”

  Beverly frowned. “Sorry, but we only have black tea.”

  “Really,” he said, scandalized. “Perrier then, with a slice of lemon.”

  “We can do that.” She turned to Ellen for her order.

  “The same, and a slice of chocolate cake. Two forks, because I know he’s going to want some when he sees it.”

  Beverly scooted off and Ellen turned to Malkah. “He took you here for your birthday? How romantic.”

  “It was my idea,” Malkah said, dismissing Ellen’s dig. “How did you know where we were?”

  “Grandma told me.”

  “You visited Bubby?” Malkah said, pleased.

  “I called her.”

  “Oh… So, what brings you?”

  “‘Brings me?’” Ellen repeated, offended. “It’s your birthday, woman! You brought me a cake, so I wanted to give you something too.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a red envelope with a white ribbon around it. She handed it to Malkah.

  “Thanks, but you never got the cake. I dropped it on the floor outside your door.”

  “It’s the thought that counts,” Ellen said. “Open it.”

  Malkah opened the envelope and pulled out two tickets to a play. “Mao: A Love Story,” she read. She looked at her cousin, and blinked.

  “It’s a musical about China,” Matterson said enthusiastically. “Ellen and I saw it last weekend. It was fantastic. Very powerful, inspiring even.”

  “Really good,” Ellen concurred. “Have you heard about it?”

  “No, can’t say that I have. Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be a killer.”

  “So…where is this new boyfriend of yours?” Ellen asked, scanning the restaurant.

  “He’s in the kitchen with Saul.”

  “What’s he doing in there?”

  “I have no idea. He likes checking things out.”

  “Checking things out?” Matterson said. “A restaurant’s kitchen?” He picked up a piece of silverware and began to inspect the state of its cleanliness. “Does he work for the Department of Health or something?”

  “No, just a curious guy.”

  “Well, what’s his name? And why did I have to hear about him from grandma?”

  “His name is Gideon. And do I tell you about every guy I date?”

  “Not until I’m forced to ask you,” Ellen said, irritated by what she considered her cousin’s shrouded private life. “But according to grandma, this guy isn’t every guy to you.”

  “Well, it’s only been a few dates. But, don’t you think that you two traipsing in here hand-in-hand is a little more interesting? If we’re going public with our love lives, it seems you two might have a story of your own to tell.”

  “What do you mean?” Ellen said innocently.

  “Ellen,” Malkah said, incredulous. “It pains me to remind you, but the last time we talked you were in tears.”

  “Oh, that,” Ellen said with a dismissive flick of her hand. “I was on my period. You know how I get. Chance and I had a long talk. He gave. I gave. His bad. My bad. In the end, it was just a series of silly misunderstandings.”

  Malkah turned to Chauncey, who nodded in validation and took Ellen’s hand in his.

  “Two educated grown-ups can get past such picayunish things,” he affirmed.

  “Right,” Malkah said, mystified. “Picayunish.”

  Beverly returned with everyone’s drinks and desserts.

  “Bev,” Malkah said. “What are those boys up to back there?”

  Beverly laughed. “They’re sitting in Saul’s office playing chess.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, they’re playing chess. Your boyfriend told me to tell you he was sorry and that he’d be back soon. I think Saul kidnapped him and won’t let him leave. Apparently, your boy won the first game pretty quickly, and Saul demanded a best out of three. Do you have a message for him?”

  “Tell him to take his time. It’s nice Saul found a playmate.”

  “I’ve never seen Saul so lit up and talkative before,” Beverly remarked. “It makes him look five years younger.”

  “What were they talking about?”

  “I have no idea. It was Greek to me. But Saul was as excited as a little boy on Christmas. Or, well, I guess since it’s Saul, I should say, Chanukah.” She strolled off to see after another table.

  “Huh,” Malkah murmured, intrigued.

  “It’s none of my business,” Ellen said, “but don’t you think it’s a little rude for your date to leave you here alone, especially on your birthday?”

  “I don’t know,” Malkah replied. “Let’s ask the expert. Professor Matterson, what do you think? Is my date being rude?”

  “Well, this sort of thing is not my specialty,” Matterson said. “But, under what is usually considered etiquette and common courtesy, it may indeed be regarded as inconsiderate, even disrespectful.”

  Malkah feigned a frown. “Hmm, well, what do you suggest I do?”

  “I wouldn’t make a federal case out of it,” Matterson said. “But you may want to hint that his behavior was ill-mannered, if not immature.”

  Ellen tossed in her two bits. “A fat, red check in the minus column,” she advised. “And keep a close eye on that column. What is it you see in him anyway?”

  Malkah wondered the same about Ellen, but she bit her tongue and answered with a shrug. “He’s different.”

  Ellen smirked. “Take it from someone who spent two weeks investigating subjects for a thesis on the paranormal, different is neither as rare as you think, nor as romantic.”

  “I said different, not crazy,” Malkah rejoined. She did not want to talk about Gideon behind his back. “So, have you come up with another dissertation to work on?”

  Ellen patted Professor Matterson’s hand. “Chance has been very helpful. We’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities.”

  “That’s nice. Anything that I’d be interested in?”

  “I doubt it,” Ellen answered.

  “Okay,” Malkah said, relieved she didn’t have to suffer through a bunch of psychobabble. “I like your hair, by the way. It’s cute.”

  “Really? Thanks. I was in the mood for a change, I guess.”

  “Looks like you both were,” Malkah said. “Professor, your new image suits you.”

  She thought he looked like a poser, if not ridiculous. Not because he wasn’t handsome. She knew that a lot of women found him quite good looking. Many of her fellow classmates had even confessed to having had crushes on the distinguished professor.

  Chance ran his fingers through his feathery locks and blushed slightly. “Spring break is coming up,” he explained, “and I’m just getting in the mood. Ellen and I are going to do a little traveling together.”

  “Paris?” Malkah hazarded, meaning the Paris City State. The city had divided into sectors after France’s Civil War, the Marxist-socialist controlled center still being known as Paris, while the predominantly Muslim-controlled suburbs went by the generic name of Paristan.

  “Yeah,” Ellen said. “How’d you know?”

  “Just a lucky guess.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit,” Ellen said, “and Cha
nce knows it well and has some friends there. Paris in the spring time!”

  “Oui, oui,” Malkah said. “It sounds very romantic. Am I out of line if I ask if your engagement is back on?”

  Ellen and Chance turned to one another. Chance gave Ellen a consenting nod.

  “Well,” Ellen said, “just between you and us, it is—but unofficially. We haven’t set a date. For now, we’d just like to enjoy some stress-free time together.”

  Chance added, “We were a little hasty the first time around and got swept up in some unpleasant situations…and persons. I think that after some quality time together in Paris, we’ll be able to move ahead more judiciously.”

  Malkah said to Ellen, “Did you mention any of this to Bubby?”

  “Grandma doesn’t need to know. Don’t worry, when the day comes, she’ll have her wedding invitation.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Malkah said. She nodded towards Chance who was shoveling in another bite of chocolate cake. “You know him well,” she said.

  “Yeah, I knew he couldn’t resist,” Ellen said, dabbing at some chocolate on Chance’s bottom lip with her napkin. She turned the topic of conversation back to Malkah. “It’s a shame that it doesn’t look like we’re going to meet this guy of yours.” She hesitated, and then added, “I’m sorry, Malkah, but really, it is pretty rude of him to leave you alone like this.”

  “I’m not alone. I’m with you two.”

  “And if we weren’t here?”

  Malkah shrugged. “I’d probably have marched into the kitchen to make sure Saul wasn’t chasing him around with a butcher knife,” she joked.

  “Oh, is he another of those Twinkie types that tend to ask you out?”

  “Twinkie types?” Malkah was tempted to reference the professorial sponge cake Ellen called her boyfriend.

  “Yeah, you know, one of those guys who come in here at lunch and ends up dating you. Like, let’s see…” Ellen began to name them off on her fingers. “There was Bill the financial consultant. Rick the senator press secretary. Mark the real estate executive. Francis the…what did he do?”

  Malkah smiled patiently. “Lobbyist,” she said. “Francis the lobbyist.”

  “That’s right. He was cute. What ever happened to him?”

  “Ironically, he left me in a hotel lobby on the fourth date,” Malkah said. “Such a punster that one.”

  Ellen nodded in vindication. “Twinkies. Is this Gideon fellow one of those?”

  Malkah affected concern. “Now that you mention it, he is sweet on the inside.”

  “And what does he do?” Ellen asked.

  “Bubby didn’t tell you?”

  “She said she wasn’t sure what he did. Something to do with consulting, maybe.”

  Malkah smiled. Good job, Bubby. “Consulting, that’s right.”

  “Consulting whom?” Matterson asked. “Businessmen?”

  “You say it like it’s a dirty word,” Malkah said.

  Chance and Ellen exchanged pitying glances.

  “But, no,” Malkah said. “Not businessmen. Public employees. He helps train them to be better at their jobs and deal more effectively with certain segments of society.”

  “Oh, well that’s nice,” Ellen said.

  “Yes,” Malkah grinned. “Isn’t it?”

  Just then, Saul, his arm around Gideon’s shoulder, emerged chuckling from the kitchen. The two men shook hands and Gideon made his way around the far side of the lunch counter and towards their table, a smile on his face.

  “Holy shit,” Matterson exclaimed in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. Him?”

  “What’s the matter?” Ellen asked. “Do you know him?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Come on, Ellen. I think it’s time to go.”

  “Hey,” Malkah said. “Who’s being rude now?”

  Ellen Veetal performed a quick womanly inspection of the approaching man. She had to admit that her cousin’s taste in men had changed considerably.

  Ellen never knew her cousin Malkah to date mutts, but this guy was a mutt. Malkah had always gone for purebreds—adorable beagles, and good-looking hounds and shepherds. But the guy headed their way was no champion purebred. Well-built and handsome, and exuding charm at a distance, the man was a cross between a majestic timber wolf and a good-humored retriever. Woof!

  She glanced at Chance beside her, and for a split second she saw a cocker spaniel. She erased the vision from her mind.

  “What’s the hurry?” she said. “I don’t understand.”

  Matterson had no time to explain, Gideon Baer was already upon them.

  “Well, hello, Professor Matterson,” Gideon said genially. “You look shocked to see me.”

  Gideon sat down in front of the slice of cherry pie that had been waiting for him.

  “You don’t,” Matterson rejoined. “But, then again, I doubt anything shocks you.”

  The women, too intrigued by what was going on, said nothing.

  Gideon said, “No, not these days.” He turned to Ellen. “You must be Malkah’s cousin, Ellen. I recognize the family resemblance.”

  Ellen nodded as Gideon extended his hand, which swallowed hers like a first baseman’s glove. His hand was warm and soft, and exuded a virility she had not known for years. She shook hands with men all the time on campus and at academic conferences, but most of the handshakes she encountered were flaccid or clammy. Gideon’s handshake was firm and disturbingly comforting.

  “Gideon,” he said, introducing himself.

  “Gideon?” Chauncey squawked. “Since when? Your name is Jed.”

  “Jed to some, Gideon to others. It’s your call, Professor.”

  Beverly stopped by and exchanged a hot coffee for the cold one in front of Gideon. He complimented her. “You’re good,” he said. “Thanks.”

  Beverly smiled proudly and scooted off. It was a busy evening.

  Gideon turned to Malkah. “We can tip her extra big.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Tonight’s meal is on the house.”

  “Because it’s my birthday? That’s nice of Saul.”

  “Not quite,” Gideon said. “We played some chess and had a couple of bets on the side. He lost. And before I forget, I’m sorry I left you stranded like that. It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”

  “Beverly said that Saul had kidnapped you.”

  “He did, but I was a willing hostage. I wanted to see if there was any Torah in him.”

  “Any what?” Matterson coughed.

  “Torah.”

  The professor rolled his eyes. “Who even thinks of saying such a bizarre thing?”

  “What did you find?” Malkah asked.

  She knew that Saul was religious, but she had rarely discussed anything more than work with him, or answer his kind inquiries into her mother’s health. However, now that Gideon had mentioned it, she did recall seeing Saul pore over some big, old-looking books in his office now and then.

  “I found that he knows quite a bit more than I do.”

  “Bev remarked that old Saul seemed pretty animated,” Malkah said.

  “I guess it’s not everyday that someone walks in here eager to talk Torah with him,” Gideon rejoined.

  “Not these days, and certainly not on this side of town,” Malkah said. “Except, perhaps, for a couple of aged rabbis who occasionally stop in for some of Saul’s stuffed cabbage or kreplach soup. Saul’s a sweetie. His wife passed away a few years back and his son moved to the WPF [West Coast Progressive Federation], to San Francisco, a long time ago. I don’t think his son is very good at staying in touch. I’m glad he found himself a new friend.”

  “Excuse me,” Matterson said, still puzzling over Gideon being there, “but how did you two meet anyway?”

  “Actually,” Malkah said, “we owe it to you and Ellen.”

  “Us?” Ellen said. “How so? I’ve never even met the guy until tonight.”

  “Call it a coincidence,” Malkah said. “Or fate. Gideon doesn’t believe
in coincidences.”

  “Oh, brother,” Ellen said. “Another one.”

  “Another what?” Malkah asked.

  “He reminds me of someone,” Ellen said.

  “Who?” Malkah asked, intrigued.

  “No one,” Matterson said. “We don’t talk about him.”

  “Talk about who?” Malkah said.

  “No one,” Ellen said. “Forget it. Chance is right.”

  “Gideon,” Malkah said. “Do you know who they are talking about?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “I don’t think so, but then again, you might. That’s how these things tend to work.”

  “What things?” Matterson said. “Coincidences?”

  “Call them what you like, Professor,” Gideon said.

  “So, hold on,” Ellen said, still trying to make sense of the connections. “I still don’t know how you guys know each other. Chance, you never mentioned either a Jed or a Gideon to me.”

  Gideon said, “Do you want me to tell her, Professor, or do you?”

  Matterson wanted to incriminate Gideon with what he considered the man’s reprehensible ties to nefarious entities, but he knew he couldn’t without inculpating himself in some way.

  “It’s a long story,” Chauncey said. “I’ll tell you later, okay? Suffice it to say that our paths crossed in the past via some mutual acquaintances I was working with at the time. Mr. Baer here gets around.”

  Ellen looked to Gideon for confirmation. Gideon smiled and nodded.

  “O…kay,” Ellen said haltingly. She turned to Malkah, “But then how do you fit in?”

  “I met Gideon in front of your office when I dropped the cake.”

  Gideon raised his hand. “My bad.”

  “Yeah,” Malkah said. “His fault. Blame him. He was a real noodge too, and wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to have coffee with him. Right, noodge-nik?”

  Gideon shrugged sheepishly. “Noodging is my forte.”

  Ellen said, “My friend Jill did tell me she saw you talking to some guy there.” She turned to Gideon. “But I’d never have guessed that that guy was you. Hmm, well, it’s a small and funny world.”

  “It sure is,” Gideon said, his eyes on the restaurant’s entrance. He addressed his companions. “Full of startling surprises. One never knows where a coincidence actually begins or ends. Unless, of course, you don’t believe in coincidences, and instead believe that everything has a purpose. What say you, Professor?”