by L. A. Zoe
“They’re in plastic bags in his shopping cart, outside,” I told Mom.
“I’ll go get them,” Rhinegold said.
“How about shampoo and conditioner and body lotion?” Mom asked. “And that loofah?”
“All in here somewhere,” I said, pointing my foot at all the boxes.
“Help me find them. And my barber shears. And the straight razor and shaving cream.”
“Has my hair gotten that shaggy, the first thing you want to do is cut it?”
To save money, Mom has always cut my hair. She went to beautician school for a few months after high school. She never finished, but she learned enough to keep my scalp looking the way I like it—very short all around.
“Not you, SeeJai.”
“Oh.”
By the time Georgie emerged from the bathroom, leaking soap suds and steam into the air, wearing clean gray cotton slacks and a shirt, Mom waited for him in the kitchen. She sat him right down and spread a spare sheet all around his neck.
Avoiding Rhinegold’s stare, I grabbed another towel and a clean set of clothes, and went into the bathroom. As I expected, I had to scrub the tub ten minutes before I used it.
Georgie left a thick residue behind, and I tried not to smell it as I scattered blue-green cleanser over it, scrubbed, and rinsed it down the drain.
I made a mental note to buy muriatic acid to pour down after it.
Eventually I felt as though I could step into the bathtub without catching any parasites or fungi, and took my own shower.
When I finished, Rhinegold sat watching a movie in the living room, and Georgie still sat in the kitchen, admiring his reflection in a handheld mirror while my Mom looked on with satisfaction—not an expression her face muscles are practiced at assuming.
I nearly fell out.
Now, not only did Georgie not smell like a decomposing squid, only a gray mustache remained on his otherwise hairless face. Mom left his long silver hair combed straight back, but trimmed inches off it, making it look neat and presentable.
In just an hour, Georgie went from being a comical figure out of a modern Dickens novel to somebody … well, somebody I wouldn’t be too ashamed to introduce to my Mom.
He smiled at me, and winked. “SeeJai, you didn’t tell me what a fine lady your mother is.”
I just kept staring, mouth open wide.
Even more amazing, Mom stared at Georgie with wide eyes, smiling—SMILING!
“SeeJai, if I’d known you’d meet such a gentleman on the streets, I’d have kicked you out years ago.”
MAKING JOKES!
Rhinegold walked by me, and leaned his face close. In a quiet voice, he said, “They’ve been trading life stories. Quite the lovebirds.” Then he closed the bathroom door behind himself.
Maybe one of Mom’s new medicines … naw.
“SeeJai, I told your new friends I’d ask them to stay for dinner—you know, as a reward for helping me move—only I hadn’t had a chance to go shopping and spend those emergency food stamps yet, so the young man told me he had money to pay for Chinese delivery, and called them on his cell. I hope you’ll stay with us.”
“S-sure,” I shook the word out of my mouth. Wouldn’t miss it.
So—I finally made my Mom happy. By bringing her a homeless dude who looked like an Old Testament prophet and smelled like he hadn’t bathed since the Great Flood.
Mom brushed Georgie’s hair from the sheet into a garbage bag, half-filling it. She sprayed an aerosol pine fragrance air freshener all around the apartment, then returned to the kitchen and pointed to the chair. “Your turn, SeeJai. Unless you finally decided to grow your hair out so everybody would notice how beautiful you are.”
Mom said I’m beautiful?
Why didn’t the Earth open up right there, right then, and swallow us all?
“Cut it,” I told her, sitting in the chair. “Number two all over.”
Mom shrugged, then said, “That nice young man does seem to like you just the way you are.”
After he came out of the bathroom, hair damp but sleek and shiny, Mom trimmed Rhinegold’s gold hair, and shaved the sides, returning his shaggy Mohawk to a pristine state.
He glanced at me, then returned his eyes. Even though I stared rage back at him.
Don’t say anything. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
He looked straight at Mom, but included me in the look. “Your daughter’s a moon fairy, flying through its silver light. And now she looks even more like a princess.”
Mom nudged me. “See? I told you.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but it sounded nice.”
I finished dusting my short black hairs from the sheet into the garbage bag. Stood up. Pointed. “Into the bedroom.”
Rhinegold arched his eyebrows.
“I don’t mean—talk!”
The doorbell rang, its ringing chimes rebounding against the walls.
“Dinner’s here!” Georgie called out.
Rhinegold smirked, nodded to me with hooded eyes, then called over his shoulder, “Coming.”
“Really, dear, don’t be rude,” Mom said as Rhinegold paid the delivery dude.
“Rude!”
“I don’t pry into your business, and I realize you’re grown now, but it’s not polite to just pull him into the bedroom while Georgie and I are out here. Like you have no self-control.”
My face flushed with heat. I wanted to stomp my foot. “Not like that!”
I jammed the beef fried rice into my mouth forkful by forkful, half the order swallowed before I tasted any.
After cleaning up, Rhinegold announced he and Georgie had to leave.
For a moment, I thought Mom would invite Georgie into the bedroom with her. At the last minute, they tore themselves away from each other.
“Soon I’ll have you both over for the dinner you guys deserve,” she told them. “I’m not paying you back for your help when you pay for the food.”
“I’ll wait for you downstairs in the lobby,” Georgie told Rhinegold.
Mom turned off all the lights, then rushed into the bedroom.
I was going to spend the night, sleeping on the couch. In case Mom woke disoriented or needed somebody to talk to.
Not that she acted depressed tonight, but I didn’t have any other place I wanted to go.
“They’ve left us alone,” Rhinegold told me. “Shall I put my parka on first, or would you rather kill me as I am?”
Outside, night had returned. With only weak moonlight streaming through the windows to see by, I remembered those hours walking the Red Line, alone, and felt vulnerable again. Only a few layers of brick, and the warm air blowing out a living room vent, separated me from the deepfreeze cold of the winter night.
The refrigerator compressor kicked on. Pipes below the kitchen sink clanged. The steady, understated sound of the toilet tank filling with water after a flush ceased.
Soap and water, cleanser, and air freshener spray removed our sour homeless sweat. Mostly Georgie’s, but as well mine and Rhinegold’s.
“Why did you guys even stick around?” I asked, trying to keep my voice down so Mom didn’t hear.
“Areetha ran late. Then she had to leave right away to go to work.”
“But—”
“We were resting when you came up,” he said. “That’s all.”
My blood roiled to a bubbling, rolling boil. I must have raised my hands to my chest, because suddenly he held my fingers.
“And what was so bad?” he asked in a teasing voice. “Your Mom did owe us something. That’s the custom when people help you move, though usually I’ve gotten pizza.”
Something in his mock-serious face enraged me. I wanted to strike out, but he held my hands prisoner in his fists.
“Are you ashamed of Georgie and I?” he asked.
“I don’t want her to know what it’s like out there,” I said. “I met good people like you and Georgie, but Greco and Ami, too.”
In the dark, Rhinegold seemed a shadowy, hulking figure.
“Moms should be worried about homeless pretty daughters.”
I tried to catch my breath. “She’s not worried. I just don’t want her to know, is all.”
“She and Georgie seemed to like each other a lot.”
I ripped my hands away. “I don’t want to talk about it. They all think we like each other.”
“They’re half-right,” Rhinegold said. “And if you’ve got another guy in your life, why didn’t you ask him to help your Mom move?”
“You’re the only man in my life,” I told him. “But that’s no compliment.”
“And doesn’t even mean you like me.”
“No. You appointed yourself my protector.”
He nodded. “You’ve got me there, all right.” Long pause while his blue eyes drilled a hole in the middle of my forehead. Smell of shrimp fried rice on his breath. “You are a princess, you know. You have magic in your soul.”
“I’d like it better if the position came with a salary.”
“Maybe you’re depositing fairy gold into your bank account, and don’t even know it,” he said.
The MSG in my beef fried rice must have gone to my brain then, because for a few seconds, Rhinegold did look like a knight in gold armor instead of a furry parka. A handsome and forceful face, though kind off the battlefield. The kind of man—knight or no—who would make many maidens fair sigh and pray to catch his eye. Even to pay silver to old women for love spells and potions.
Ridiculous, but the anger vanished, leaving me the mottled green of my shame.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I feel stupid for being so silly.”
“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes, my first dinner rush.”
“I’ll be here to take you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Okay, I’ll send Greco.”
“How about Ami?”
“You’d prefer Greco.”
“What if he wanted to feed me to one of his pets?”
“He has a baby boa constrictor, but not one big enough to squeeze and swallow you.”
“Then it’s their kisses I’m afraid of.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”
He moved toward the door.
“Rhinegold? What about tomorrow night?”
“I’ll pick you up when your shift is over.”
Bad, crazy thoughts ran through my brain. Of Rhinegold picking me up, crushing my small body to his broad, muscular chest. Of tearing off my clothes and taking me right there on the couch, not caring what my Mom thought of my screams of pleasure.
My breathing picked up and my heart panicked.
“Where will you take me, after?” I asked.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Here, but I can’t. Just like with Areetha, I can only stay off and on, or the housing authority will say Mom’s violating her lease.”
“Just stay with me. I’ve got plenty of floor space around the fire.”
As I talked, my breath caught in my throat. “Same as before?”
He paused while reaching for the door knob, took my hands.
“You’re not walking the Red Line. You have a real job.”
“But I just started, so I don’t have enough saved up yet to get my own place.”
He sighed, and slumped his shoulders, but didn’t let go of her hands. “SeeJai, I’m a knight, not a monk under a vow of chastity. Lots of women, I’d have slept with them that first night. And I respect you for offering, after I helped you. But you’re different.”
“A princess.” I said, not hiding the scorn in my voice.
“That’s right.”
“With hair so short I look like I finished chemotherapy yesterday.”
“And so beautiful, fey and elfin.”
“And it makes Ellen Degeneres look like Rip Van Winkle.”
“Someday you’ll learn to appreciate yourself.”
“Yeah, right. I can’t wait for the day I get my own place and don’t need you anymore.”
He smiled, half with sadness, half a smirk, and left with a brief wave of his hand.
“Because now I want you,” I said to the door. “I want you, Rhinegold. But I’m not good enough for you, so stop pushing.”
Chapter Ten
The Sunshine Garden Restaurant
Inside the Sunshine Garden Restaurant promptly at eight o’clock, Rhinegold held up a small bit of wall space in the waiting area.
He tried to blend in with the crowd of customers waiting shoulder to shoulder for a table, but even with his dark parka, he stood out.
A more ordinary bunch than the hippy dippy, cold-pressed highly refined virgin olive oil, Native American headband-wearing, anti-speciesism lunch crowd. Not as many obvious college students. Men and women in casual but affluent clothes.
Couples young and old. Family parties. Groups of friends and coworkers.
He had no idea so many people might want a late Friday evening vegetarian health food dinner.
The hostess, an attractive blonde woman in a long red gown and more dreadlocks than Bob Marley, asked, “How many people are in the party you’re waiting for, sir?”
Sir?
“I’m just here to pick up SeeJai,” he replied. Her face looked blank, so he said, “Your new waitress. She said her shift was over at eight.”
The hostess glanced at the full tables behind her and the large crowd in front of her. “She can’t go until we slow down.”
“I understand. I’ll just wait for her.”
Tension jammed her face. “Please wait outside, if you don’t mind. We need all the space for customers.”
From the sidewalk outside, the Sunshine Garden Restaurant glowed with toasty warm bright neon colors.
Rhinegold couldn’t help but envy the people inside. He stamped his feet, waved his arms, and paced back and forth, but somehow none of that kept him as warm as nonstop walking.
Yet, even as his watch showed the time as 8:30, people continued to arrive faster than they left.
From the rear of the restaurant, a tall man wearing a thick black, woolly unbuttoned winter coat and a black fur cap tilted to one side strolled to Rhinegold.
He hailed Rhinegold. “My friend! Mind if I join you while I take my break?”
Beneath the fur, the man carried nearly as many muscles as Rhinegold, along with a large vodka belly. His skull was bald as the Siberian tundra.
He offered Rhinegold a cigarette.
“Thanks, but I don’t smoke.”
“Ah, you Americans.” He waved at the Sunshine Garden Restaurant. “What a country, no? I have so much freedom. I start my own business. The bank tells me, Arkady, so you are sergeant in the Soviet Army? You display great leadership quality. Here is our money. Make the big profits for us, and I do.”
His shoulders slumped. “But I cannot smoke inside my own restaurant.”
Rhinegold didn’t know what to say to that.
“So you are waiting to pick up SeeJai, no? Very pretty girl, though perhaps … well, never mind. She is hard worker.”
“I guess she didn’t know you’d be busy so late. I don’t mind waiting out here.”
Arkady put his hand on Rhinegold’s shoulder. “My friend, I like you. You are man of the north too.”
“The north?”
Arkady waved his open coat. “To me, this cold, it is like a nice day. In the old Soviet Union, I grew up so far north, if we spit at the Pole Star, green phlegm gobsmacks Canada.”
What did this guy Arkady want?
Arkady blew a lungful of smoke off to the side of Rhinegold’s face. “SeeJai is very hard worker. You help my waitress. And I have heard of this golden knight protection business. I respect you for this. But you frighten some of my customers, no? They tell the hostess, there is a man there outside. Just standing. Looking. Some suspicious character, no?”
“I’m sorry,” Rhinegold said. �
��How about I wait across the street?”
“See? I like you, my friend. Kindly do this as a personal favor to me. I do not wish my American customers to think the KGB is watching here.” Arkady laughed at his joke.
Rhinegold crossed the street and took up position near the window of a secondhand thrift store, in the darkness behind a cone of light cast by a nearby street light.
“Maybe long time, my friend,” Arkady called out. “SeeJai, she tells to me, she likes work and to make the tips.”
“I’m not complaining,” Rhinegold said. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Arkady called back something about “true love,” and went back inside the Sunshine Garden.
After another half an hour of keeping half an eye on the restaurant, and most of his mind replaying the first Hobbit movie, Rhinegold spotted Helena going into the Sunshine Garden with another woman he didn’t recognize, and two of his old friends. Joe and Pete. Guys he remembered going to school with. Played tennis and football with.
Well, he hoped they all had a good time together.
He ought to be bedding Helena, not freezing in the dark waiting for SeeJai. What could Helena see in Joe Parotti except a rich father?
Helena looked good, and nobody questioned her suitability to have sex as a woman, with a man.
Helena could not only satisfy his physical and emotional needs, she could give him back respectability.
Even, perhaps, his family.
If only he wanted her.
He let the four of them continue on inside without speaking. They might wait an hour before the hostess seated them. Maybe SeeJai would wait on them.
What would they think of her, if they knew Rhinegold Cunningham spent his Friday evening standing outside waiting for her? In weather warm for Russians but freezing cold for everybody else?
Even though Helena did everything but rape Rhinegold at gunpoint?
Seeing Helena again reminded Rhinegold of her close physical resemblance to Keara.
Making love to her would also be like …
No, it wouldn’t be. Couldn’t be. Helena was different. Her own woman, for good and bad. With her own personality. Quirks and emotional depths.
It wouldn’t be the same.
