by L. J. Hawke
Sanur grinned. “I think she is strong enough. Her reaction may surprise you.”
Supayalat hissed. “I hope you are right.”
Tania came back from lunch with Sanur, back from his weeklong trip. She was grinning, thinking of pairing Breakfast Club with an episode of The Stand. She enjoyed confusing him. Tania hadn’t had access to much except for her cousin’s very old ‘80s movies still on VHS. So she knew a lot more of that decade than she should.
Tania thought of his hands on her neck, sliding ever downward. His kisses down her neck. Sliding into bed and, frustratingly, the phone call just when she had been ready for so much more. Tania sighed, thinking the best idea would be to skip the movie. She opened the door to the office and stepped inside, smiling at the caress of cool air on her skin.
Lupe met her at the door. “Nice of you to join us.”
Tania tilted her head. “I’m actually early. Is there a problem?”
“Well, if you think losing a client is bad.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Tania headed towards her office. There were staff members still on the phone. Splitting the lunches was a good idea; more customers were helped, and the interns loved having transition time between work and school.
“The African line.”
Tania nodded her head and opened her office door. Ever since Tania had taken over, Lupe seemed to find the African line personally offensive. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked again.
“A customer put in a large order, and it’s shipping out at separate times.”
Tania raised her eyebrows. “If it’s the Caberos account, I specifically told her that would be the case. They are making her order by hand. Is it?”
“Well, yes.”
“Did she specifically call to complain?”
Lupe tapped her foot. “No, I was looking through the invoices and saw the delay.”
Tania went behind her desk and sat down. “The African line is mine. I know I told you to approach me if you have any questions, but this isn’t your job. The African line is my job. Auditing my work is not your job, Lupe. Please stick to your own work.”
Lupe made a face. “I’m trying to help you.”
Tania shook her head. “I also don’t want to hear one more word criticizing the African line. You have your own lines. Please work on that.”
“I can’t help you if you reject my input.” Lupe stomped her foot like a child.
“I am your boss, Lupe. Stomping your foot is childish. Trying to help your boss with something she has told you not to touch is also unprofessional. Now, do you have anything else to say to me?” Tania kept her voice soft, smooth like butter. Lupe was complaining nearly every day, wasting everyone’s time.
“No.”
“Okay, then, it’s lunchtime for you. I tried a food cart with Sanur going to the left, not the right. You might like it.”
Lupe rolled her eyes. “I’ll get my own food, thank you.”
Tania tilted her head, gave a little wave. “See you later, then!” Lupe shut the door. Tania took a deep breath. Who turned on her snark? she wondered.
Tania decided to pick up Sanur at his new office. The air was wet and heavy. She stood outside his office as he completed a phone call while he closed his laptop and put it away in a locked drawer. Sanur turned off the lights in the office with the other hand and walked out to the front desk. He turned off the rest of the lights, pulled down the security door, and locked it.
Tania wore a flowy pale blue top with a deep blue skirt, silver and blue sandals, and a smile. Sanur looked cool and breezy in khakis and a silvery shirt. They went to the koi pond and threw food for the fish. “They are so beautiful, gold, white, and silver.” Tania smiled.
“I like having them nearby.”
She brushed his coppery-black hair out of his eyes. “I need to get the dye lot for this color. It's prismatic dye, absolutely gorgeous.”
Sanur laughed, then took both her hands and his. “Have I ever lied to you?” Sanur looked into her eyes.
“No, because if you did, I would quit, then kick your ass, and you would never see me again.”
He laughed. “Good to know. I'm telling the absolute truth when I tell you that I do not dye my hair. My mother's hair had a golden sheen, and my father's had copper.”
Tania quieted at the talk of his parents. She knew they had been dead for many years, and from experience that losing both parents must hurt. “Do you have pictures of them?”
“My people were very reticent about having their picture taken. But I do have some pictures in my home. I will show you sometime.” He bent down and kissed her. He felt the tingling everywhere, from her hands on both sides of his face, from his lips touching hers, from the intimacy of the moment. He was able to compartmentalize, run businesses and foundations with moving and intersecting parts all over the world that didn't have any right to be solvent yet somehow were. Yet, he found himself completely unable to think when that wash of electric warmth rolled over him.
Sanur kissed her again and again, and the world fell away once again, the fish surfacing for their pellets, the moist heat against his body after the rains. He pulled back so he could see her, the lowered sun's fading light striking her shoulders so that her skin seemed translucent. The look in her eyes when she saw him, how a light appeared behind them that made her seem to glow, made him want to wrap himself around her. He dove in again.
He lost himself in her until she took her hands away from his face and smiled up at him. “This is wonderful. But I’m hungry!”
“My majordomo is making dinner, a chicken dish I think you will enjoy. Would you like to come with me to dinner?”
“I would be honored.” She bowed her head a little.
Sanur’s heart quickened with anticipation. They had both been ready for some time, but the sale of the business came first. He would not be that man, the one that disrespected women. He saw it all around him, how hungry eyes saw people as objects or paychecks. But now, nothing was in his way. Tania thrummed in his veins, under his skin. He would have waited an eternity for her.
She took his hand, waiting on him to lead her to his home. He closed the fish food box, pulled out his phone, then sent a quick text, Two for dinner. He had to look long and hard to find a program that had that particular font. The language was very old, spoken when the world was young.
The reply came quickly. She honors us.
They took a tuk tuk because a lightly spitting rain began to fall, and they were soon out of the city into the countryside. Traditional Thai homes were built on stilts above the ground because of flooding. They were wooden with pointed roofs. Sanur’s home had steps leading up to the ground floor, and had a porch wrapped around the house. The wooden house was stained a deep red, boxes filled with delicate pink and purple orchids, and fragrant white jasmine. The property stretched back, palm trees surrounding the house. Tania scrambled out, delighted. Sanur paid the tuk tuk driver, and he drove away.
There was a pond in front, and Tania was pleased to find koi swimming inside. She fed them handfuls of fish food she found in its box on a wooden pole, like he had at work. They came to her, golden and white bodies churning, mouths open. There was a small van parked on the left side under the house. Tania figured it was transportation for Htet, the majordomo.
They took off their shoes at the base of the stairs. There was a bench on the landing, in case someone got exhausted going up the stairs. The railings had beautiful decorations on them, and she touched the carvings. “I take it you got an artist to carve these?” He smiled and nodded.
There was another bench at the top and double doors opening up. There were lime trees in pots on either side of the door. Inside, there were beautiful wooden floors that glowed under the light. There was a window that looked over the side. There was a door that led into the main room with a comfortable couch, in a deep coppery color with black and gold pillows, and a flat-screen TV hung on the back wall.
They w
ent through a door on the right and went over to an open walkway that led to the kitchen. The kitchen was in chrome and black, with modern appliances that seemed to be smaller than normal. The cooking surface was on a kitchen island.
Htet looked like an older version of Sanur, tall and thin, with a flat face and mahogany skin. He kept his black hair cut very short. Htet was sizzling something in a silver pan. There was a green salad and three small bowls on the wooden dining table with four carved wooden chairs with cushioned seats around it. Sanur rushed to wash his hands, then he poured oil, vinegar, and lime juice into a little bowl and mixed it up with the tiny whisk. “Tania, this is Htet, my majordomo. He runs the house, the lands, and many of my other affairs for me. Htet, this is Tania. Tania, please sit back and relax.”
“The chicken is almost done,” said Htet. The smells of ginger, garlic, soy sauce, and lime were heavenly. Tania washed her hands, then sat at the kitchen table to watch the action. Htet slid the chicken out of the frying pan and onto a plate, turned off the heat, and immediately washed and wiped out the frying pan. Sanur took over and shredded the chicken with two forks. A bowl of vegetables was already on the counter, and Tania could see and smell garlic, ginger, green onions, and mushrooms.
Sanur deftly added the chicken, vegetables, some chopped boiled egg, and vinaigrette to the salad, then tossed it. The majordomo returned to slice some French bread, and Sanur pressed baked garlic with a fork into a small bowl. He added freshly grated ginger, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, and a touch of honey in a little bowl and mixed them.
Htet brought the food to the table, then the majordomo came over with three cans of Coke and gorgeous crystal glasses with ice. “The ice is made from filtered water. No one drinks tap water here.”
The men surrounded the table, standing behind their chairs. Tania had the presence of mind to stand up as well and stand behind her chair. They put their hands together and bowed their heads, and so did she. They spoke in a language she didn't understand, one with hisses and clicks and a lot of complex vowel sounds. They lifted their heads, smiled, and sat down. Tania followed suit.
They ate the delicious chicken salad, and Sanur taught Tania how to dunk the bread in the vinaigrette and use it to eat the salad. They used forks and chopsticks that looked to be pure silver, heavy, with an intricate pattern. The two men spoke in English, and the majordomo flashed a beautiful smile when he heard that the teens wanted to be adopted. “That sounds absolutely wonderful,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I will call Tran about the paperwork. The trust fund is already set up per your instructions, Veera.”
Tania narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been planning to adopt them?” She sipped her Coke.
“Ever since you brought them to work for us,” said Sanur. “But you keep bringing more in, so the paperwork gets a little more complicated each time.”
Tania let her jaw drop. “Every single time I brought someone from the orphanage to work for us, you planned to adopt them?”
Sanur shrugged. “No one else will make sure that they are provided for. That is my responsibility.”
“Most employers wouldn't do such a thing. I was going to do it after I paid you off for half the company. Actually, I was going to do it when I finished paying off my debts and could figure out how much I needed to pay a lawyer. Then you offered for me to buy half the company. I hadn’t sought out the lawyer yet.”
The majordomo glanced over at Sanur. He bowed his head, and said, “You have chosen well, Veera.”
Tania blushed. “Thank you, Htet. Vera is a woman's name in the United States, but I doubt that's what you're trying to call him.”
Sanur laughed. “Perceptive,” he said. “The term is veera, in ancient Sanskrit a name for ‘brave’ or ‘courageous,’ often referring to royalty. In ancient times, my family served and sometimes became royalty themselves, from what was once Burma, all the way down to India, over to Thailand and Cambodia in the time of the Khmer, the old kingdom. Our ways have followed us through the centuries, the responsibility for others, the desire to make the world a better place, to make the world safer.”
Tania listened closely, wide-eyed. Sanur pointed a piece of bread at Tania as he spoke. “Times of strife killed our people, no matter where they were located. We had to spread out to keep ourselves alive. There is always greed, hunger for what you do not have. We worked very hard to build ourselves up to be of maximum service to others.”
Sanur ate his bread, and Htet took over the narrative. “The arrival of Siddhartha Buddha cemented our thoughts, gave a mechanism for our most ancient beliefs. Sadly, we do not know from whence we came. The story of our origins is lost in the mists of time. We have had to rebuild so many times, century after century. So much vanished.”
Sanur nodded. “But servants such as Htet have given us great continuity, the ability to trace ourselves back to the servants of kings, even to the kings and queens themselves. We have done our best to rule benevolently, to maximize the peace in the middle of suffering. Women were equal to men thousands of years ago in our family’s culture.” He reached out, touched Tania’s hand. “Finding you, that has been something I never thought to find.”
They finished their dinner, talked about less consequential things. Htet stood to clean off the table, for they had eaten everything. “That was one of the most delicious meals I've ever had. It was simple, elegant, and perfect.” Tania rubbed her stomach.
“Thank you very much,” said Htet. “Simple food is often the best.” He inclined his head, stacked up the dishes, and took them to the sink to be washed.
“Can I help with something?” Tania asked.
Sanur chuckled out a laugh. “He would be highly offended if you did. He only lets me help with the cooking because I insist. I enjoy it from time to time.” He held her hand and drew her from the kitchen and dining area. “Come. I have something to show you.”
Sanur took the walkway to the left, and they went behind the house to another building on stilts. “How big is this thing?” asked Tania.
“Htet sleeps in a bedroom over the carport. The man deserves his privacy after all he does for me. I am bringing you into my private space.”
Sanur opened the intricately carved wooden door, and she stepped inside. The bed was huge, covered by mosquito netting, with white sheets and pillowcases, and a light coppery cover on top. Tapestries hung on the walls next to the bed on the right.
What she saw out of her left eye stunned her. In wooden boxes behind glass were the shed skins of a snake with a white underbelly, golden and white, with a coppery head. They ranged in size from tiny to one that took over nearly the entire left wall. She strode over to the smallest one, and said, “A golden python? Where is it?”
“It's very close by, but do not be afraid. This python eats a chicken once a week and was fed two days ago. It is very intelligent and friendly, and it loves you.”
“I'm not afraid of snakes. The corn snakes protect the crops, the garden ones are very small and wouldn't hurt anyone. If you’ve got a golden python that eats a chicken, and not me, that's perfectly fine. But how would a snake, who never met me, love me?” Tania asked.
“I have something to show you. There is a secret that I must maintain. I believe you are strong enough to find out the secret. If you find out and then want to leave, please go talk to Htet. He will call you a tuk tuk, and you can go home. The businesses are now separated, and so you never have to see me again if you don't want to.”
“Now you're just trying to scare me, and I don't scare easily. What the hell are you talking about?” Tania was getting angry, and Sanur knew it was time. He closed his eyes, then opened them to take off his clothes. He folded them, piled them on the bed, then stepped back. Tania raised her eyebrows and smiled a little looking at his naked body. He let the magic, the golden light, flow over him, felt himself change. Soon, he was a two-and-a-half meter long golden Burmese python with a coppery head.
Tania let her jaw drop, and a ha
lf-scream came out. She hyperventilated for a moment and stepped towards the bed. “My man is...a snake,” she said, her voice strangled. She leaned her calves against the silky coverlet and breathed in and out. She unclenched her hands, then stood upright as the man-snake made no move towards her. She knew she would have to go to him.
Even in a snake form, Sanur still felt the consciousness of the man. But now he had a snake’s eyes and had to use his tongue to smell her. She stepped towards the bed, then didn't move for a very long time. Then she lowered herself, very slowly. He rose, very slowly raising his head. She touched his head, and he tasted only a hint of fear from the air. She was a very strong, tough woman, and there was a possibility she would attack. But she did not. She reached under him and lifted him with a grunt. He lay on her shoulders, entwined around her, took in her heat, wound himself into her hair.
Htet kept him on a one-chicken-a-week diet because he didn't want to turn into something so large that his future wife, whether she be human or shapeshifter, would be unable to carry him. He also didn't want to crave larger and larger prey.
Tania stood under his weight, her arms straining. Sanur wound himself more tightly in her hair. Tania took one step forward, then the next. She felt so sensuous and warm next to his skin. He decided to let her do whatever she wanted, and she opened the door and walked across the bridge, slowly, without staggering. She opened the door to the kitchen and inclined her head at Htet. Htet moved as well, but his snake sight couldn't tell exactly what Htet did, only the movement itself, probably a bow. Sanur approved of Htet’s calm scent.
Tania stepped backwards, closed the kitchen door, turned around, and slowly walked back to the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, knelt, and Sanur slithered to the ground.
The magic usually didn't let him shift quickly from one body to another, but somehow he knew it would work because he loved her. He rose as high as he could under his own weight, and she touched his head. He lowered himself and willed back his human body. The magic allowed him to turn back into a man, and he lowered his head, thanking the Goddess for allowing this quick transformation from man to snake and back again. He took his time standing up, completely naked.
