by J. Naomi Ay
Fortunately, there was a cab driver willing to take me back to New Jersey.
“Robert Wood Johnson Medical Center,” I ordered, ready to check myself back in.
“Robert Wood who, jack?” The guy asked, his dreadlocks swinging to his own Caribbean beat.
“Just get me there. I’ll point it out,” I snapped. “I’ll pay you extra if you step on it.”
“Alright, jack. You big up, lady? I get you there before the picky head comes.”
“Just drive,” I ordered, leaning back in my seat, resolving never ever to leave Jersey again.
Chapter 11
Hannah
"Arsan?" Tuman called. "Arsan are you home? Where are you, boy?"
"Who is Arsan?" I asked as Tuman set me down on the floor. "Which one of your brothers, cousins, or nephews haven't I met?"
"He's none of those." Tuman glanced around the room, listening for the sound of Arsan’s voice. “It seems he is not here again.”
Good. I was in no mood to meet the kid, or anyone. Leading me to the couch, Tuman bid me lay upon it. Then, he covered me with a heavy wool blanket before stoking back to life the orange coals in the hearth.
“He comes and goes as he pleases,” Tuman continued. “Sometimes he disappears for days and weeks. I try not to worry, but yet, he is still a child. Shall I make you some tea, Hannah? Or, would you prefer more mutton broth?"
"No," I scoffed. "Tea is fine. Whose child is he anyway?"
“I don’t know,” Tuman replied from the kitchen. His voice was accompanied by the sound of cups knocking against each other, a tea kettle being filled and set to heat, cupboards opening and closing, a dish being set out. I snuggled beneath my blanket and enjoyed these domestic noises. I could easily get used to these sounds, this house, this warmth. "He appeared here one day," Tuman's voice continued. “And, won’t say from whence he came. I fear, there has been great trauma in his life. Yet, there is something truly strange about him. I have been reading the Holy Books to find the answer. I believe the truth of him lies somewhere therein, although I haven’t found it yet. Did you say whether you wished for sugar in your tea?”
“I didn’t say. You didn’t ask, but yes, I’ll have some."
Tuman's little house was nice, and it was warm, but there was a loneliness prevailing, reeking of the owner’s bachelorhood. A light sprinkling of dust was covering all of the tables, as well as the many books which lay scattered across them. The rug, an elegant and probably priceless handmade heirloom, was covered in specks of dirt, crumbs, and cat hair. The windows were filthy and streaked, not having been washed in a very long time, and the fireplace was sooty and needed sweeping out.
"I've got some biscuits," he called excitedly, as if he had just made a great discovery.
Returning a moment later with two cracked mugs, and a dish of something crumbly and stale, he sat across from me and apologized for the paltry offerings.
"I don’t like cooking, and I often forget to pick up food in the village shops. Garinka provided these cakes, although she isn’t the best cook. I believe they are not so bad when dipped in tea."
I smiled and swallowed one. I was ravenously hungry at this point, willing to eat even Garinka's oversalted and dry as dust cake.
In the meantime, Tuman babbled on about this boy named Arsan, and the mysteries and mad ramblings of the Great Father’s ancient books.
Nodding and swallowing the second and last cake, I considered that destiny or fate had brought me here. Tuman was about to become the next notch on my proverbial belt. I knew he had always loved me, even way back when he was a drunken teenage fool. Had Shika not come along, I might have married Tuman then.
"Tuman," I interrupted. "I've missed you. I've been thinking about you all the time since we were together in the forest."
"Really?" His face colored. He smiled in a hopeful way. "I've been thinking about you, too. I’ve been very worried."
"I've been remembering what we did then, how good it was for both of us."
"Really?" He blushed again. "It was special, wasn't it?"
"You don't find me ugly now, do you?" I fingered my scar. “Am I still attractive to you, even a little bit?”
"Oh no, Hannah!" He jumped from his chair, and came to kneel beside me. "I mean yes! You're so very beautiful. Your scar only reflects the damage life has done to you. It makes me wish to draw you close, and protect you from everything else."
It didn't take a whole lot more effort than that. I simply slipped off my shirt, and let him go at my breasts, which were heavy and overly large in this early stage of my pregnancy.
He didn’t know that though. He just appreciated my abundance of flesh, and the willingness which I allowed him to enjoy it.
He wasn't bad. Even as a teenager, he had always had a certain skill. Of all my lovers, Karupta men were certainly near the top. Of course, Marik Korelesk would always hold first place in keeping me entertained, but Tuman de Kudisha rated a strong second.
Shika de Kudisha, on the other hand, was only ever interested in pleasing himself, Imperial Bastard Prick. Funny how a crown could make one overlook all of his other faults.
At any rate, Tuman and I tried to stay there on the couch, but ended up on the floor, rolling around on the dirty, antique, priceless rug.
"Kari-fa, Hannah!" Tuman shouted, while several times, I snapped at him to shut the fuck up. I liked my men to keep their mouths busy with something else. By the time we were done, we were both covered in filth, and our own sweat. He was satisfied, and admittedly, so was I. "Kari-fa," Tuman gasped, now lying on his back. "You are amazing. You are incredible. I love you. Will you be my wife, Hannah? I’ve loved you since we were kids."
“Ach, Tuman.” I tried to be demur. “We'll talk about it later.”
“I should never have let you get away all those years ago. I always knew you would never be happy with Shika.” His voice took on a desperate pitch as he turned to me and pulled me against his chest. “I promise you, Hannah. I’ll honor and revere you like you should have been. No woman will be treated more like a princess than you.”
“Let me think on it,” I told him, coyly. “There is more than just our happiness at stake. My sons’ best interest must be considered. I won’t take long, my darling, but I do need to think. It's a big step.”
“Of course. Take all the time you need, and in the meantime, I shall give you the bedroom. I don’t want to pressure you. You must come to this decision yourself.” He bolted to his feet, and retrieved the blanket from the couch. “Here my love. Wrap this around you. I do not wish for you to catch a chill.”
“Where are you going?” I languidly pulled myself up and draped the blanket around me like a cloak.
“To the Temple. I must pray. My mind and heart are racing. I must go there to calm them, and find peace.”
“The Temple? Kari-fa, Tuman. Stay here with me. Let’s have a drink instead. Better yet, let’s have Barkuti. Where is your stash?” I looked around. “You’ll find more peace getting stoned than kneeling upon the floor."
Tuman paused by the door, his hand held out for the knob.
“I suppose a little bit won’t hurt.”
“Of course not. It’ll make us feel even better. Is it here?” I checked the urn resting on the fireplace mantel.
Sure enough, there was the weed, pungent and bright red. Some papers was neatly tucked in as well, so I took the urn and sat down again on the rug.
“Here, Sweetheart, you first,” I offered, expertly preparing the joint, and leaning into the fire to light it up.
It was good stuff, probably some of the best I had ever had. Certainly, the High Priest of Karupatani was entitled to premium drugs. This was an added benefit, I realized. Being with Tuman might afford me all sorts of privileges and gifts.
Wasn’t it customary to bring offerings to the Temple for the High Priest to eat? Didn't the village women sew his clothes, and the men bring all sorts of gifts? It was almost as if he was royalty being serv
ed by all the people of the Karupatani, except without having to do all that ruling shit. All he had to do was read the Holy Books, and occasionally pretend he was talking to God. How much easier could it get?
I laughed, and inhaled deeply as Tuman hesitantly took another toke. At first, he wanted only a tiny puff, but as I indulged, he relaxed and smoked it like a pro. A short time later, I was somewhere else, lost in space or another world, while Tuman rolled on the floor clutching his stomach and laughing out loud.
“This is awesome, Hannah. I haven’t felt this good in years.”
“Mhm,” I replied, flying above the clouds.
My arms had become wings, and I was soaring up to the stars, as another presence joined me in the sky.
“Hello Hannah,” the evil raptor said, his enormous dark wings blocking the rays of the Rehnorian sun. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes. Go away and leave me alone.”
“I told you, Hannah. You shall never be rid of me. You have sold your soul, and now I hold it in my hand.”
“I don’t need a soul,” I protested. “I have Tuman now. He’ll take care of me. All the people of Karupatani will treat me like their queen.”
“You kill everything you touch, Hannah. You are a black widow. You are a praying mantis. If Tuman weds you, he will quickly die.”
“That's not true!” I shouted. “You lie. I always knew you were evil, despite what everyone said. You killed all of your friends, and anyone else who ever loved you. You practically murdered your own son. What kind of father does that? Who are you to lecture me?"
“I am not who you think I am, and neither are you who you purport to be. Go back down to the land, and bid Tuman goodbye.”
“I won’t!” I insisted, yet somehow I was plummeting through the air, crashing down against the cold, hard planet, and the filthy rug.
My head hurt, and my eyes were blurry. My stomach was lurching, and I started to retch. Tuman was still laughing, and rolling around, deliriously stoned. All of the weed in the urn was gone when the front door opened, and Rekah strode through.
He stared us, his dark eyes taking in it all, my nakedness, Tuman’s nakedness, our obvious intoxication, and the empty, turned over pot.
“Hannah, the whore from Shrotru,” he muttered, fetching the blanket from the floor, and once again draping it over me, his eyes lingering for an extra beat on my heavy breasts. “And, what have you got into, High Priest? When you should have been praying you were indulging in…in…” Rekah glanced at me again, his thick, gray eyebrows raised. “My son is an alcoholic, and addict. He has been in recovery for a number of years. This is the first time he has relapsed. I bid you put on your clothing, and leave him be. Your presence here will only harm him further.”
“No,” I declared, just as I had done to that horrid bird. “Not you, nor anyone will make me leave Tuman’s side.”
“Leave her alone, Father.” Tuman awoke from his stupor, and stumbling to his feet, he made to escort Rekah out the door. “You are the one who is not welcome amongst us. Hannah is to be my wife despite anything you may say.”
“Really?” Rekah scoffed, brushing Tuman aside. “As a prince of Karupatani, you require the King’s permission to marry.”
“That is an old law which we have ignored for more than a half century. All my brothers have wed without any blessing but yours.”
“And, I withhold mine. I would sooner see you die than wed this witch.”
“As High Priest, I may bless myself,” Tuman declared, before doubling over in a fit of laughter. This was followed by a fit of coughs as he once again fell to the floor.
Rekah gazed at me across his son’s back, hatred burning his black eyes.
“You have no choice but to petition the Crown. If you wish your marriage to be recognized and Hannah's latest whelp to be declared legitimate, you shall have to appeal to the Imperial Princes for permission. Let you, Hannah, ask your former husband, if he would approve of these nuptials. If not, you shall have to go back to your whoring, and tell the next man you carry his brat.”
“You fucking bastard!” I raged, picking up the urn and hurling it at Rekah’s face.
Easily, he stepped out of the way, letting the vase crash into the door. It shattered into a million pieces, littering the filthy floor with shards of glass.
“Another priceless heirloom from the Great Father’s days,” Rekah remarked before departing as abruptly as he came.
“We’ll go talk to them,” Tuman assured me, while wiping a snail's trail of spittle off his lip.
“Shika won’t…”
“Maybe, not,” he interrupted. “But, Rent is a reasonable man. We’ll appeal to him first. He won’t care what we do. We only need one to approve, and not the other. Come now, let's get back to business." He reached from my breasts.
“Later." I brushed him away. "How soon can we leave, and how can we get there? I'm not going to sail in a fucking boat across the ocean."
“My brother Lehot has an old speeder which he keeps in his barn. I shall ask to borrow it tomorrow.”
"Good Tuman," I replied, my stomach growling with hunger pains. “Now go fetch me something to eat, while I take a bath and wash my hair.”
Chapter 12
Katie
Oobel led us to the river and pointed, indicating that I should dive in.
"Are you sure you should be doing this, Red?" Dave asked. He had asked this same question about forty times previously as he limped along beside me.
“Yes, Dave,” I repeated now for the forty-first time, while wading into the frigid and swiftly moving current. Overhead, the stars had just begun to emerge in the lunar sky, the sparkling constellations of the Black Eye Galaxy blinked, beckoning us on.
“You don’t have to do this,” he called.
"No, Dave. You don't have to do this." My legs, immersed up to the knees, were already completely numb. "Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I need to go with Oobel. You, go back to the RV park."
"No, no." Hesitantly, he poked a foot into the river. "I can't let you go off alone. I'm a retired Spaceforce Officer. It's my duty to accompany you, and ensure your safety."
"I'm not alone, and furthermore, I'll be fine. Believe it or not, Dave, I’m a retired Spaceforce Officer too." I said this while my teeth were chattering, so he didn’t necessarily hear or understand every word.
"Ooooo ooo eee ooo," Oobel called.
"Bye Dave," I yelled. Holding my breath and gathering my nerve, I watched Oobel pitch into the bitterly cold darkness, his effervescent fins diving downward.
“Wait! Red! Oh my, it’s cold,” Dave moaned, as I almost ducked under myself. “If you’re going to the Black Eye Galaxy, why are you swimming in this river?”
“He’s a fish, Dave. This means the portal he came through is somewhere in the sea. If I’m to go back with him, I have to swim for it too. As a former Spaceforce Officer, you ought to know that. You were the one who said you were versed in three hundred different species. Didn’t you take Extra-Galactic Species 401 at the Academy?”
“Was that an elective?”
“No! It was required!”
I was getting tired of arguing, and my entire body was quaking with the chill. Fairly quickly hypothermia was going to set in. I needed to get going, but on the other hand, what if this was some sort of trap? What if Senya’s nemesis, Evil had sent Oobel to collect me? Hadn’t Senya specifically told me not to leave? Yet, how many times would he tell me one thing just to ensure that I did another? On yet another hand, it appeared that I didn't have a choice.
“I did take it,” Dave muttered. “But, I’ve forgotten most of them. What year did you graduate the Academy, Red?”
“The same as you, Dave!” I barked. “We were in the same class!”
That did it. I wasn’t going to stay here and argue with Dave any longer. I held my breath and plunged into the darkness, despite how incredibly stupid it might turn out to be.
The river was darker an
d murkier underwater. At first, I couldn’t see Oobel, or anything else. A few horrid seconds passed, while the nerve endings in my body became paralyzed. I wondered if I had just killed myself.
Jumping into a river of near freezing water because a fish alien called me by name, was certainly not one of the more intelligent things I had done. In fact, it ranked right up there with taunting dinosaurs, and taking on a dozen space pirates while flying an unarmed spaceplane, both highlights in Katie Golden's log of incredibly brainless ideas.
Something bumped me. I would have screamed, except I was underwater and that would have resulted in a mouth full of muck.
Fortunately, it was only Dave, who had foolishly decided to join me on this adventure. He was as pale as a corpse, his mouth and eyes expanded like a Blowfish. He floated into me, flapping his hands.
“Breathe,” Oobel ordered in his fishy language, now suddenly appearing amid the murkiness surrounding us.
“How?” I asked, and then, realized I had been breathing all along. I had no desire to swim up to the surface, no need to gulp fresh air. Dave, on the other hand, was trying to hold his breath. “Breathe!” I punched his arm which basically did nothing but toss a small wave of water his way. His eyes grew even wider as he grasped at his throat. "Breathe Dave!" I yelled again. "If you don’t, you're going to make yourself drown."
Dave shook his head fearfully. Obviously, he wasn't making the connection. Whatever had brought us down here had also given us the ability to survive it.
“Just breathe the water!” I rammed my foot into his chest.
Although, it wasn't a particularly forceful kick, it still managed to make contact with his body, which shocked him into exhaling a gust of air. Instinctively, he gulped, swallowing a large quantity of the river. He choked on it, but a least, he was breathing.
