Maya's Aura: Destroy the Tea Party

by Smith, Skye

  With Jon and Lydia exploring each other's bodies on the other side of the wall, she had suddenly felt very lonely. Perhaps she should press Jim to have the second and third reading of the banns in church so they could marry. Every hour without him was an age in passing. She so wanted to give herself fully to him, and hold him close in bed, night after night. After all, what was the worse that could happen, a pregnancy? So what? They were to be married in any case.

  * * * * *

  Britta was woken by the rubbish carts passing by underneath her window, as usual. She changed Robby and swung him onto her hip, then walked through Lydia's door without knocking. Lydia was curled up facing the wall and lightly snoring. Jon was lying on his back with his arms behind his head and looking at the ceiling with an ear-to-ear smirk. She lay Robby on his chest and went downstairs to get ready to open the shop.

  She had the fire built and the water heating before Lydia came downstairs. Her first words were, "Honey, about last night."

  "I don't want to talk about it." said Britta, but then she pointed a spoon at Lydia and said, "He is my brother. He is just a boy, so much younger than you. He is your bond servant. How dare you?"

  "I, it was... we.... oh hell. Have you taken a good look at your brother lately? Have you? He is divine. Anyway, after the news he brought from the farm, I needed to be held."

  "Held, is that what you call it?"

  "It started as holding, then cuddling, and then there was no pulling back."

  "And that is supposed to make everything all right. Did you think beyond your own cravings? Did you think that we live and work under the same roof? Did you think that he has had on a crush on you since the first day we met you?"

  "He is not a boy anymore," Lydia defended. "He is so not a boy. He knows so much about women, how to pleasure them, how to make them reach the goddess state."

  "Lydia, how do you expect for the three of us to live under the same roof any more?"

  "Look, it's not as if I can get any more pregnant, and soon enough I will be forced to stop because of my belly."

  "So you mean to continue?" Britta threw the spoon into the dish tub with such force that it bounce out and splashed the wall.

  "I would like to. I don't like sleeping alone," Lydia said softly. "I so hope that he wants to?"

  "He worships you. He would sleep curled at your feet if you asked him to," sighed Britta.

  "Then will you forgive us? He sent me down to ask that. Will you forgive us?"

  "So does this mean that Robby will be sleeping in Jon's bed in my room from now on?"

  "I haven't thought this all the way through yet," said Lydia, sensing victory, "Is that water boiling yet? I need some tea."

  Jon came down a few minutes later with Robby. He ignored Britta and went and hugged Lydia in a three-way hug with the child. Britta tried to look stern, but it was false, so it became a four way hug. They stood there and swayed with their arms around each other until the steam from the boiling water was stripping the paint from the wall.

  Now it was not just Jim and Britta who were attracted like magnets whenever they were close, but also Jon and Lydia. Britta thought it embarrassing, watching their discrete touches in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. Was she the only person who noticed how Lydia would press her breasts against his arm whenever she brushed by him? And what about how she caressed him when they were both in the galley.

  On the day of the Austrian Ball, the landlord's wife came into the shop early in the afternoon to take care of Robby, so the women could adorn themselves. She was a horse-faced woman dressed in Puritan drab, but she adored Robby, and would never have missed the chance to help these two comely women put on their colorful gowns.

  Lydia was very pleased with how she looked in her gown, now that her mending allowed for her admirable cleavage to show. The skirt flowed out from under her breasts so you could not tell she was pregnant. It was of a lush dark green fabric which almost looked like velvet, but was much softer and lighter. At the last minute she decided that she would, after all, wear the emerald necklace that Red had sent to her.

  There was a matching cloak, also green but of such a dark hue that in poor light it looked black and therefore modest enough for a Puritan street. "You know, Britta, this gown and cloak would have cost Mercy almost as much as your bond cost me. Amazing what women will pay to look fabulous. She told me that she had it made for the governor's ball back in '63 when peace was declared."

  * * * * *

  The only other time Britta had been to the Music Hall had been for the opening of Mercy's play. This gala event was proving to be very different from the play opening. First off, there was no need for Jim to pay a lad to watch the cart. One of the organizers was the wife of the chairman of the Charitable Irish Society of Boston. The Society had provided an armed watch to surround the building, and only those dressed for the event were allowed through the cordon. The cart was very safe.

  Inside there was not a single woman dressed in Puritan black or drab. At the cloak room, each woman took her turn in removing the cloak that had preserved her modesty out on the street. The uncloaking was one of the signature ceremonies at the Music Hall. The applause was almost continuous as woman after woman arrived in from the street looking all the world like a Puritan, and then twirled and swirled out of their cloaks and revealed the colorful ball gowns beneath.

  Both Jon and Jim stood by Lydia while she swirled out of her cloak, for an accidental fall would risk the baby. She did a double pirouette without loosing her balance and ended in a gentle curtsey which fully justified the time she had spent altering the neckline. She looked fabulous, and she knew it.

  Then it was Britta's turn to remove her cloak and show off the gown that Lydia had loaned her, a gown that would likely never fit Lydia again. Britta felt all eyes upon her and summoned her courage and her poise, and then repeated what she had done at the opening of Mercy's play. She ignored the crowd and watched for Lydia's reaction, for it was practicing with Lydia that had perfected her gracefulness.

  She left Jim's arm, and then slowly undid her cloak, all the time turning ever so slowly and kicking the pleat of the cloak outward so the sumptuous purple silk of the lining would show. Once the cloak was undone, she flipped her deep hood from her head to show her face and showed her Puritan bonnet. There was a surprised giggle for this was not the night for such bonnets.

  She peeled one side of the cloak off her shoulder and turned so that the cloak swirled out wide and Jim caught the loose edge and she kept twirling slowly until it was all safely in Jim's hands. There were oohs and ahhs and clapping. She was wearing a turquoise gown that accentuated her honey-colored shoulders and her long bare neck. The neckline teased the men’s eyes with a hint of cleavage. Her honey colored skin was offset by a necklace of turquoise stones. The silky turquoise sleeves ran only to her elbows, and then became the sheerest of lace.

  The gown had a bodice that pushed her breasts high and hugged her waist tightly. The fabric hung close and smooth over her hips, while below the hip it separated into two panels. The back panel was of stiffer fabric, while the front was of fine, thin turquoise silk that hung straight down when she was still, but billowed gracefully when she walked.

  She stopped her swirl and regained her balance, and waited for the applause to die, and then she reached up to the drab Puritan bonnet, and pulled out a hat pin, and lifted the bonnet from her hair. Ribbons were woven into her hair, and now golden hair and turquoise ribbons floated down in soft curls to rest on her shoulders and then cascade down her back. The applause began anew as she passed the drab bonnet to Jim.

  She did one last twirling swirl and then she half curtseyed, half bowed to the audience, bending just low enough to make all the men catch their breath. Then she was swept off her feet by Jim with Jon and Lydia pressing close to hug her. She was so relieved it was over and that she hadn't tripped on the long gown.

  From the corner of her eyes she saw a girl coming towards her. A girl her
age and dressed in a modest gown of an immodest color. It was Elizabeth, the older of Jim's two sisters. She released herself from the four way hug and turned to take Elizabeth into her arms. "You look lovely," she told her and as the hug ended she took her by the hand and twirled her to see how the lemon colored skirt swirled.

  Elizabeth had been brought by her parents, Jemmy and Ruth. There were many eligible daughters here tonight with their parents, and many eligible men. She whispered urgently into Britta's ear, "If I stay close to Jim, then I don't have to stay close to my parents. Is that all right with you?"

  This surprised Britta, because her soon-to-be-sister had been quite nasty to her in the past and had always sided with her mother against her and Jim. She looked around to find her father's face in the crowd. Jemmy caught her glance and stopped talking to Ruth and smiled, and nodded to Britta. His nod was good enough for her. She hugged Elizabeth close and whispered in her ear, "Of course you can keep us company, although that may mean you will have to dance with your brother, or worse, my brother."

  Elizabeth looked over to where Jon was watching Lydia flirt with some rich old men, and smiled. "Oh, all right," she pouted while her heart raced and her face flushed.

  The music was beginning and couples were being invited to step forward to learn the latest dance from Europe, the waltz. Few couples stepped forward, but amongst them was Lydia and Britta. Most couples pushed back and made room for the dancers, either eager to watch, or to find the snacks and punch that had been provided by various Boston 'committees'. The Music Hall was not allowed to serve alcohol, so it was no surprise that there were separate bowls of ladies' punch and men’s punch, and of course, Irish punch.

  Women outnumbered men by three to two at the hall, but that was not a problem because many women could not dance more than one dance at a time due to the tightness of their bodice laces or the tightness of their shoes. The amateur band played and played, though they really only knew four different waltzes. Mary, Jim's other sister, had a short solo with her violin in one of the waltzes, and she never stopped smiling throughout the night.

  Eleven o'clock came too early and the owner of the Music Hall pleaded for everyone to go home, lest he be shut down by the churches. Outside, the Irish cordon had allowed some young girls through to stand on boxes and peer through the windows at the spectacle.

  When the lavishly dressed women were leaving the hall, the young girls were calling out to each woman to loosen her cloak and swirl so that they could see the gown. The younger women were pleased to be asked by the girls and willingly gave them a show, Britta and Lydia included.

  It was a short ride back home to the shop, and the landlord's wife met them at the door and pressed them for a description of the ball. No one took off their fineries until the wife had said her good nights, and then Jon and Jim helped the women out of their gowns and hung everything to air.

  Jim did not make it back to his parent's house that night, and thus he learned of the new situation between Lydia and Jon. He was not surprised, and made a promise to himself about church in the morning.

  * * * * *

  As folk gathered outside the church the next morning there was great excitement, so much so that the pastor started the service early to cut short the chatter of all the excited women. Britta was not a part of the chatter. She had seen Jemmy walking under a tree behind the church and she had slipped away from Jim to find him and ensure he was feeling well. She caught up to him and attached herself to his arm.

  "Father, are you all right?"

  "Ah, my girl, thank you for your concern. I am just lost in thought."

  "The service is beginning early," she said softly, "you should come and sit and get warm."

  "Not yet, dear, but you go."

  "What has captured your thoughts?" she asked.

  "We have cracked the governor's armor, girl. He sent a messenger to my house early this morning with an official complaint."

  "About the dancing? You must be jesting. Everyone had so much fun. Oh I do hope he doesn't make trouble for the Music Hall."

  "Not about the dancing, girl. He is the governor, not the church. His complaint is that we provided our own policing for the event. Policing is a government function, and he strongly objected to us taking it over.

  I now know what our next step must be, beyond watching his agents, beyond refusing to buy Company goods. We must take on some of the duties of the government. Not just shadow the government, but replace the government for some every day local tasks. More important, it must be noticed that we are doing so."

  She felt his cheek and his neck. He was cold and his is heart was racing. "Come and sit beside me on that bench, father. I fear you are not well."

  "Not well in the body perhaps for I crave the demon opium, but my mind is crystal clear." He shivered uncontrollably. "Be a dear and ask Jim to come to me. I must find a bed and soon." He watched her do the Puritan shuffle as she tried to run to the church in the long drab smock that covered her from chin to toes.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  MAYA'S AURA - Destroy the Tea Party by Skye Smith

  Chapter 9 - The Killing Cold

  Maya was woken from the dream by animal noises. They were real noises, not dreamed noises, but she didn't find that out until she opened her eyes and looked down at Bret. He was propped up against the pillows with his face pressed into her breasts and moaning. In shock, she stopped her riding motion and he looked up at her.

  "Oh Britta, don't stop, oh please don't stop," he pleaded, and then took a nipple into his mouth. She started riding him again and almost immediately he made a muffled girly scream and his entire body squirmed and shuddered, then relaxed, and he gasped for air. She rolled carefully off him to lie on her side and hug him to her. Strange thoughts flooded her mind.

  "Oh my goodness," she said to herself, "It was a dream, but not my dream. It was a torrid dream that Britta must have had four lifetimes ago. A dream in which she ravished Jim just as I just ravished Bret. Not an actual memory of life, but a memory of a dream." Glancing at Bret she realized that the dream had just come true, after four lifetimes of being repressed. "Oh this is getting just too weird. Wow, it's like one of those weird Christian movies."

  The Exorcist came to mind but she dismissed it immediately. What just happened was not demonic. She could tell by the angelic look on Bret's face, or at least, that part of his face that wasn't pressed into her breast. She shifted a little to she could be more comfortable and perhaps fall asleep, hoping that now she would actually sleep rather than dream.

  * * * * *

  They were more than a bit late checking out of the motel. They were both sleepy and yawning as they made their apologies to a middle-aged woman with a grumpy voice at the front desk. The morning had started quite early for them because of champagne bladders. Once they had both brushed their teeth, the morning ravishings had begun, and they simply lost track of time.

  They left the motel and went straight to the cafe to have breakfast with Mary before the lunch 'rush' began. The cafe was not empty but that didn't stop Mary from grabbing her little brother and gave him a big hug. Maya dragged herself over to the back booth and sat down on the puffed up vinyl seat with a thump.

  "Tara, you know, from the motel, stopped in for a coffee on her way to work," Mary said putting a business card into Bret's hands, "She left this for you."

  "What do I need a card from the motel for?" he replied staring at the embossed logo while he yawned.

  "Turn it over dummy. That's her cell number on the back. Like, don't think about it, just phone her, and soon." Mary turned towards Maya to bring her into the conversation, but the girl was lying on the bench seat absolutely still. "Wore her out, eh? Good for you." she said and kissed his cheek. "Why don't you make her some breakfast?"

  After putting two plates of over easy eggs on toast down on the table, he slid into the booth and gently lifted Maya into a sitting position. He had to hold her up so she wouldn't sli
de to the floor down the slippery vinyl. Slowly she came to. The smell of toast and coffee got her immediate attention.

  A few moments later, while she was moaning through her eggs, he asked, "So who is doing the moaning now? Maya or Britta? Or is there someone else in there with you?"

  "Huh," she replied, looking into his eyes.

  He lost himself in them for a moment and then mumbled, "Well I lost my cherry last night to two very different women. Maya who was patient and gentle and skillful," he blushed bright red, "and Britta who was hurried and clumsy and, and, and..."

  "Lusty, wanton, slutty," she rattled off the words. She looked down at his plate. He hadn't touched it. "If you're not hungry, can I have yours too?" He growled at her and pulled his plate away from her, but he still didn't touch his food. He never dropped his gaze from her eyes. "It was Britta's first time too," she tried to explain. "She was all desire and no skill."

  "Which one of you is the witch?" he asked, "I mean, like, Mary told me that you are a witch."

  "What do you mean by witch?"

  "You know, devil worship, satanic powers, Blair Witch Project, Charmed, Practical Magic, Witches of Eastwick?" He rattled off the list with pauses in between, half hoping she would choose the one that best fit.

  "I don't believe in the Devil or Satan. Those are Christian gods, worshipped by Christian witches. I'm not a Christian. I am just a healer. I have a healing touch. It lets me read memories of the past from crystals. Britta is just an old memory from an old crystal. She isn't real. Not anymore."

  "She sure seemed real last night. I could tell which of you was doing me. Like night and day. Are you sure you aren't possessed, like in...."

  "Don't you dare say the Exorcist."

  "I was going to say Ghost Busters." He watched her go back to eating. "I don't mean to be rude, but, like are you seeing a doctor or something? Like, has he got you on medication?"