by Bella Knight
Wraith was able to move her arm, so she took a sip of the iced tea they smuggled in. "No jail," she said, and sipped. She put the sealed cup down, and relaxed.
"Reaching acceptance is taking what you can't change, and working with reality."
Honeymoon
"Love someone --at any price. Love has its dividends."
Nico handed his wife a virgin strawberry daiquiri. She melted into her lounger. "Mmm," she said. "I'll have the... pineapple fried rice with the fish."
"You ate an hour ago," said Nico, and sipped his rum punch.
She laughed. "I have to have a plan. Besides, this is an all-inclusive resort. I can eat whatever, whenever I want."
Niko kissed her strawberry-mint mouth. "Whatever you want, honey." He rubbed more sunblock onto her back, and she groaned. "After this, I'm going snorkeling, again."
She pointed directly down. She put her drink on the little table, took her towel, and laid on her stomach. Nico groaned, stole a cushion off the rattan chair, and put it next to his wife's butt. He moved her drink to her left elbow, grabbed his drink, and grabbed his own, along with the bottle of sunblock. Bao looked down at the water through the glass on their patio, watching the silvery glints of fish; some blue, red, orange, or gold. She laid on her elbow, and raised her head so she could suck her drink from a straw. He rubbed sunblock onto her back and just below her butt, making her groan, and him smile. She put her head down again, watching the fish dart in the water. He smiled again, finished his drink, put on his mask, snorkel, and fins, and watched the fish from the water.
He paddled around, avoiding the other couples. Darla was there with Dina, her daughter; they ate something grilled out on their veranda. Rajav was there with his new bride, Leyva, and they were definitely sleeping in. Ronnie and Wes were newly married, and they were in the water, with their drinks on the edge of their veranda. Why didn't I think of that? Nico wondered. Laughter rippled out over the water. Ronnie and Wes waved, and he waved back. He floated, contentedly, letting his limbs relax.
He finally tired, and got out. His bride was snoozing in her lounge. He toweled off, and ordered his wife's fish fried rice, two veggie skewers, samosas, and a coconut chicken skewer. A beautiful lady with caramel skin and a bright batik pareo brought the food. The smell woke his wife, and they split the food. Bao's bright laughter made him smile.
"Dragon Mama sent a text to Hu. She's in Chinatown in San Francisco, and is meeting with distant family there. She says she will take in a Chinese girl to cook and clean for her. I suspect she's an illegal."
"She better pay her and treat her right," said Nico, willing the hunch from his shoulder. "Or I'll smack her little nose." Bao laughed. "Or throw a fish at her." Bao laughed harder.
They finished, ordered lime smoothies, and held hands in the loungers. Bao put sunblock on Nico, watching the way his muscles slid under her fingers. He pulled her up, and they went back to the king-sized bed. They slid and slipped under the sheets, laughing as they finally met, with kisses rippling across skin. He dove under the sheets, making her scream with laughter and surprise, then he made her scream again and again. It was perfect. His mouth, lips, teeth scraping over skin, and his tongue touching her button, making her back arch. He made her come, again and again, before sliding in. He took his time, his elbows just above her shoulders. He stopped to kiss her, and then sped up again, pumping hard. Finally, he came, and they laid together, gasping. They stumbled into the shower, then she changed from the blue to the emerald bikini. He adored her body, and told her so. She giggled like a girl, covering her mouth. They drank their somewhat-melted lime drinks, rubbed sunblock all over each other, and slipped into a blessed nap.
Callie and Ivy took Hu and Grace to a water park in California. They went completely insane on the rides, competing to see who could get into the fastest lines. They ate hot dogs and cotton candy, laughed until their soda came out their noses, and made summer plans. The Wolfpack followed, going the next day, as a celebration for everyone getting their GEDs. Callie and Ivy took Hu and Grace to Universal Studios on that day, where they "acted" in several movies, and rode rides. They were in love with the Minions, and Callie and Ivy bought all the Minion stuff that would fit in their vehicle.
Inola took Damia into the mountains on a quiet ride. They camped, and Inola gave Damia Henry and David's hard-won wisdom about the mountains. She showed Damia how to move silently, how to sneak up to see the deer, how to make and break camp, how to roast potatoes in a fire pit, and the art of finding animal tracks.
They were finishing their day with hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows when Inola sighed. "I love spending time with you," she said to Damia.
"I love Mom and Mama," signed Damia, giving a little fillip to designate "Mama." "But I want to live in the barn."
"You sleep there sometimes," said Inola.
"I want to live there. Robert lives there with his sister and his sister's person."
"They are not too loud?" asked Inola.
"The potter's wheel is..." Damia said. "Opposite overwhelming."
"Relaxing," signed and said Inola.
"Yes," said Damia, and practiced the sign and lip movements. "And Suni's person Davis makes tiny animals."
"Yes," said Inola. "Do you want to try these things?"
"I watch," said Damia.
"Yes, you do," said Inola. "But there comes a time to stop watching and start doing. Try to learn to carve the animals in soap, then wood, then rock. With pottery, lay a leaf on the clay, then cut it out, and cut out little feet and smash them into the bottom. You don't have to work on a wheel the first day."
Damia got out her phone, and started banging out tasks. Inola smiled, and thought, then smiled again.
"You may stay in the barn," she said. "For now. But, it will become too hot. We will..." She thought. There had to be a way to get another apartment in the eaves. Damia loved tiny spaces, loved her sleeping pod. She just hated living with two, giggly, talkative girls. "We will find a way."
Damia nodded. If the adults in her life said they would do something, they did. She had no idea the rest of the world was not that way. "Then I will wait."
"Yes," said Inola. "Wait."
Inola made a pot of oatmeal and left it in the coals to cook overnight. Inola showed Damia how to make shadows with her fingers on the walls of the tent, and they spent a comfortable hour before sleep doing just that. In the morning, they crumbled cubes of brown sugar on their oatmeal and ate it with cold water, fed and watered the horses, and took off at a walk.
Stella awoke from only two hours' sleep in her Tucson hotel room, the colors of sand and turquoise confusing to her eyes until she remembered where she was. The installation was today! She showered, dressed in jeans and a battered T-shirt, met her assistants, Gregor and Qual, and fed them breakfast. Gregor was built like a fireplug, short and full of muscle, with tiny blue eyes and sharp teeth. Qual was Asian, with golden skin and tilted eyes. Both young men wore dusty jeans and T-shirts.
"Eat up, boys," she said. "This is gonna get ugly." They finished, then checked out of the hotel.
The Birds of Prey Sanctuary was on a dirt road just outside of Tucson. The boys drove the truck, and she drove her 4X4. They got out, unloaded the equipment, and determined the best place to put it. The owner, Van, came out to watch.
"Saw your dust plume," he said.
Stella shook his hand. "Want it on the left or right of the sign, or right by the road?"
"A little back from the road," he said. "Hard to see where to turn off."
"I've got just the thing," said Stella.
She helped the boys dig the hole, then used a block and tackle to move and drop a tree trunk. She piled dust and rocks around it, made it steady, and they bolted on the feet on the predrilled holes. They use the block and tackle to move over the hawk's body, then they bolted on the wings.
Then, Stella said, "Don't look toward the light!"
She put on her welding mask, grabbed the torch,
handed the solder to Qual, and soldered the bird together. Gregor handed them both water, and they drank. They checked everything out, cleaned up, and put everything (except the bird) back into the van.
"Oh my god," said Van. "He's gorgeous. We actually have one just like him up at the sanctuary. Want to see him?"
"He was my model," said Stella. "But, be a crime not to."
"We have from two to seventeen birds here at a time," said Van, riding in front with Stella. "Some are shot by bullets or bows. Some get caught in lines, or nets or traps. We also raise baby birds whose parents have been killed, but often they can't return to the wild."
He showed them an eagle, three kinds of hawks, and a roadrunner. They all had spacious habitats, and were slowly recovering from various injuries.
"The Audubon Society helps us." He handed her an envelope. "This was commissioned by an anonymous donor, to help raise our profile." He smiled. "Don't worry. The same donor paid for the care and feeding of all the birds here, right up ‘till the end of the year." He grinned. "Gonna need more down the road, of course."
Gregor and Qual both stared at the Harris hawk, its brown wings and back turning to black at the base. "Be a worthwhile thing, saving them," said Qual.
"It is," said Van. "Love what I do, every minute."
They said goodbye, filled up the van, got back to Tucson, and stopped off for a large meal at a coffee shop. They ate as if they'd never seen food before. Stella drove herself to the airport, hopped out, and grabbed her backpack while Qual took her seat.
"Here's gas and snack money, and extra if you want to stop off someplace," she said, handing over her own envelope. "Don't smoke pot and drive, and my van better not smell like weed when you park it by my house." Qual and Gregor bumped fists.
"Later," said Qual. She waved, and went in.
She hurried to pick up her boarding pass. Nico; beloved Nico, had sent her a ticket to a sculpture workshop in Tuscany. The days of carving were interspersed with seeing the best of Italian sculpture. It was held in a warehouse, and they would spend nights at a villa with poor plumbing --but excellent statues.
"How did you find this?" she had asked him.
"I can use the internet," he told her. "Thought it was up your alley."
"Up my alley?" she asked. "It's up my damn river, all the way down to my damn ocean." She had tried not to cry.
"Got a bonus," he said. "Well, a lot of the damn things. We've both been super-busy. Let's both go to various parts of the world and enjoy the results of our hard work."
She fingered the money in the envelope in her pocket, and smiled. This was going to be the best trip ever.
Killa helped Sergeant "Fox" Volpe do a weld. Ghost helped Beck finish hers. "Last one," said Bonnie, watching Rio finish hers.
They had exactly mirrored each other, creating three Harley trikes, one crimson, one gold, and one a midnight blue, simultaneously. They finished, and screamed Bowie's Rebel Rebel as they lowered the bikes. They then went over the chrome, every single bit, an exhausting process, so they put on Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit and went at it. They teased each other about getting shiny, and what they liked to buff.
They got them out, and in a line. Gregory came over and whistled. "Damn, you ladies do premier work."
"Always," said Ghost. "We da best."
Tito's van came around the corner, and barely stopped as three women hopped out and literally ran toward their bikes. The woman in the blue do-rag with the dirty blonde hair stood in front of her gold bike, and just heaved her breath, in and out. The black woman with a pouf of crinkly hair stepped forward, and reached out a hand to her crimson bike, but didn't touch it. The third woman with the long black hair and tunic made of torn-up saris and black jeans began circling her midnight blue bike, stalking it like a wolf. She circled it three times before imperiously handing over a black credit card. Rio grabbed it, ran to the credit card machine, and came back with a pen, the card, and a receipt. The woman barely looked at the bill, signed, and pocketed the card. She circled the bike the other way. The blonde paid next, without even touching the bike, handing over an envelope thick with cash. She touched the light, feather-light, then stepped around to the side. The black woman paid last, by credit card, after kneeling in front of it, eyes wide with tears.
All three women took their time getting to the part when they sat down. They smiled at each other, and all three turned them on at the same time, feeling the throaty roar of the great Harley engines. They each reached out and fist-bumped each other, grinning like loons, before following each other out of the lot.
"My god," said Fox.
"What a rush," said Beck.
"Fuck me," said Rio.
"And that's why we do what we do," said Bonnie, softly, as they watched the women ride away, then separate at the green light.
Fox, Rio, and Beck put their arms around each other's shoulders, then broke into a spontaneous hug. They laid back their heads and roared. Ghost and Killa hugged and kissed each other, and Bonnie swung her wrench around like a baton. They stared out, long after the women could no longer be seen. Then, they all went back to the three tables, and took turns using the winch to get the new engines on the horses. They said absolutely nothing as they looked at the orders, then they decided what needed to be sent out for painting, and got started, with wide smiles on their faces.
Killa and Ghost left the ladies in Bonnie's hands. Herja came up to help, some of her own Soldier Pack with her. They cranked out three shifts, and made a mix of trikes and regular Harleys to teach the Soldier Pack both ways. They used Killa and Ghost's apartment, walked the dogs, and had parties.
Killa and Ghost got on the plane to Jamaica, already laughing from Ghost's rum punch and Killa's chocolate shake. They rode first class, as they had made lots of bikes in the past few months. They were waited on hand and foot, and had steak tips and potatoes, then slept. They awoke, stretched, and felt the moist heat hit them like wet slaps on their skin. They sauntered through customs in their yellow tank tops and black shorts. They had backpacks with nothing much in them, except their toiletry kits. They planned on shopping for nearly everything.
They met the hotel van. They were given a free drink upon arrival, their choice of frozen punch or rum punch. Their hotel room was on a corner, so they had two windows at right angles to see the ocean. There was even the giant pool with bridges over it, the swim-up bar, the dancers dancing at the outside bar, the rows of loungers with attentive waiters waiting on them. They stripped out of their shorts, revealing their bikinis. Killa kept a light T-shirt on, over her rounding belly. They rubbed coconut oil over each other, put on their flip-flops, and took the elevator to the pool, with bags slung over their shoulders. They got more drinks at the swim-up bar, and Ghost made a discovery.
"These are built-in tables, and built-in recliners in da water!"
"What the..?" asked Killa. She put her drink on the table, and sat on the chaise lounge that was slightly underwater. She laughed. "Wild!"
Ghost sat too, and swung her legs over. She laughed. "Dis be da best life!" They sipped their drinks, floated, and relaxed.
Killa said, "I be hungry."
"I be gettin' somefin.’ Fish tacos?"
"Awesome," said Killa. "I swim up an’ get it."
"Naw," said Ghost, putting her hand on Killa's rising stomach. "I be takin' care o' my woman."
She laughed. "They'll bring us da food. I jus' order it from dere." She swam away.
She was right. They brought fish ceviche for Ghost, fish tacos for Killa, and mojitos; virgin for Killa. They swam, laughed, held hands, and kissed. They went shopping for flowing tops and little dresses --and short shorts, of course. They ate dinner by candlelight adjacent the pool, and shook their ‘money-makers’ poolside, to the steel drum band.
They went up to the roof bar, and saw a million stars. "What you wanna do?" asked Ghost.
"I wanna do what we be doin' now. Takin' breaks when our Soldier Packs be ready to work o
n dere own, with just check-ins. Havin' this kid, be waitin' some time, an’ decide when we want rug rats."
"I be happy wit’ da miniatures, be makin' money, have da Woldpack be doin' da pours, me doin' da assembly an' da paintin.' Wanna do less bike work, ya know? Don' wanna run myself inta da ground."
"You do what ya wan,'" said Killa. "I be happy makin' da babies fa da people dat can' have babies. I wan' our own, though. Tink we need to keep some o' da Soldier Pack ladies. The three we got is major cool. Would like ta keep 'em. Get 'em on three shifts, give us more time to take rides, or vacay, or have dem babies."
"Who you wanna have dem babies wit’?" asked Ghost. "Be some fine males around."
"Bella is usin' Nantan."
"Dat boy is fine," said Ghost. "Make some beau-ti-ful babies. But, I wanna chocolate man. Rey wif da Iron Knights, he be gay. His boyfriend be fine, too."
"Puerto Rican," said Killa. "Ysidro."
"He be wantin' one fo' hisself," said Ghost.
"We do one fa us, one fa him," said Killa.
"Be gettin' complicated," said Ghost. "Mebbe go to da donor place. Get us some fine man. Order it like orderin' a steak."
"Don' say dat," said Killa. "Done got me all hungry again."
Ghost called over a server, and they ordered grilled pork and rice. They ate by starlight, the moonlight reflecting in their hair. They danced again, slow ones, and then went to bed.
Their lovemaking was slow, kisses first, then Ghost nibbled Killa's neck. Killa groaned. Ghost peeled off her T-shirt, then took off her bikini top, and caught her breasts in her hands. They looked so sweet, so she kissed each one, then sucked them. Killa got Ghost out of her bikini; bottom first, her hands on her wife's ass. Then she got the bikini straps unknotted, then forgot herself in the rush, and arched her head back. Ghost got her bikini bottom all the way off. Then, they fell onto the bed. Killa got her wife's breasts in her mouth, and nibbled the way she liked. Ghost came in a gasping, wet scrabble, moving to flip Killa over on her back. She kissed her way down, kissing the mound of her belly, then putting her fingers in her wet wife. Killa arched, groaned, and came in great waves. She laid there while Ghost went to the bathroom, and brought back a wet washcloth. They ended up in the shower, under the rain showerhead, and kissed until Killa put her fingers inside Ghost, making her come. They dried off, and made it to the bed. They fell in, still kissing, and made each other come again before falling into an exhausted sleep.
