She turned and fell into Andy's outstretched arms. "Did you ever think all this would happen?"
"Never," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
"I wish it would stop, Andy," she said. "I'm tired of running."
"It'll stop soon. We're almost there."
She felt him harden as he pulled her tighter, pressing against her abdomen. Heat crept into her.
Then suddenly they were not alone. Three women had entered and stood just inside the curtain. One was as old as the universe, her wrinkles like original Sanskrit. The other two were younger than Rebecca. One carried a bucket of steaming water, while the other one held a pile of clothes. The scents of violets, roses and vanilla filled the small space. Rebecca's needs changed in a heartbeat as the aroma filled her with promises of clean hair and smooth skin.
As soon as Andy had been ushered outside, they descended upon her, removing her clothes with effortless skill. Soon they had her sitting on a towel as they sponge-bathed her. She couldn't help but smile and loll her head back, enjoying the human touch as much as the cleansing. She moaned occasionally, her scandalous outburst causing giggles to erupt form the younger girls followed by stern flurry of whispered Marathi by the older.
When they finished washing her, one of the young women left with the dirty water, then returned with another bucket of steaming water. To Rebecca's surprise, they washed her again, taking as much time as they had before, almost languid in their ministrations. This time when she moaned and they giggled, she joined in.
They cleansed her twice more. The fourth time, they washed her hair, applying coconut oil as it dried. The result was a shimmering cap of hair. For not the first time she wished she had long hair like other women. She admired the hair of the young women, Shira and Corla, and the way it draped down their backs like dark Abyssinian waterfalls.
Then they massaged her bare skin with oils. They first covered her with the earthy smells of balsam and moss, then layered this with honeysuckle and violet. Her skin hummed when they'd finished. She could feel the hairs standing on her arms.
Her clothes had been removed with the bath water. Under the soft-spoken yet stern directions of the older women, the young ones first slipped Rebecca into a pair of silken pajama bottoms the color of summer wheat. Rebecca had seen others wearing this, but didn't know what it was. She was shown how to tighten it at the waist and at the ankles.
"Salwar," said the old woman indicating she was talking about the pants.
"Salwar." Rebecca repeated this several times, until finally Shira turned to Corla and chittered something in Marathi. Both the girls erupted with laughter. The old woman merely shook her head.
Next they pulled a burgundy spun cotton dress over her head. Loose-fitting, it tapered in at the waist, then flared out to where it ended just above the knee.
"Kameej," the old woman told Rebecca.
Just as Rebecca began to repeat the word, the younger girls joined in. Soon, they were all laughing as Rebecca repeated word after word, not sorry to play the child to their games. She enjoyed the fun, and for a little while she forgot about all the death and destruction that had surrounded her every move.
The evening ended with a meal of sensuous food—vegetable pakora, orange chutney, basmati rice, nan and sambhar. Never in her most wonderful dreams had Rebecca imagined that her mouth could even taste some of the spices she'd experienced. For a short moment during the meal she cursed the prison and the government for denying her this luxury. She was probably the only woman in L.A. who'd never eaten Indian food before. If it was up to her, she'd eat it every meal.
As the night drew later, the girls and the old woman, who she'd learned to call Josh, departed with many bows and hugs. She slipped out of her new garments and into the silken sheets of the low mattress. She didn't have long to wait until Andy returned.
"Crazy Darshan. He wasn't kidding when he said hospitality. Had I known this place was like this I would have come here on the weekend."
She could tell he'd been drinking. His eyes were too wide and he kept leaning towards her, puffs of his whiskey-coated breath mixing with her violet and honeysuckle lotion.
"Where'd you go?" she asked.
"I ended up at his place. He has about a dozen of these interlocked like a slum lord estate. He threw a feast of curry. I don't know what I ate but it all tasted spectacular." He sobered a moment. "You did eat, didn't you, Bec? He said you'd been fed."
When she nodded, he continued.
"Turns out he was able to get your creds easier than all of us thought. Darshan almost cried when he told me. He wanted the extra money, but the rules of his own hospitality precluded him from taking advantage of us that way. Do you believe it? A slum lord with ethics."
"Were there women there?"
"Oh sure," Andy began, but seeing the pitfall, quickly added "but I wasn't paying attention to them. Darshan provided them for his guests."
"Aren't you a guest?"
"No. I mean yes I'm a guest, but it wasn't like that." He scooted over to her on the edge of the mattress. "You aren't jealous, are you?"
Sure she was and she hated herself for it. More than jealous, she was sorry she'd missed the party. She'd enjoyed the girls' ministrations, but she'd come to enjoy Andy's company more. "No, I'm not jealous," she lied. Tell me what else happened."
He stared at her for a long moment, then grinned as he struggled out of one boot, then the other. Once he'd pulled off his pants and shirt and tossed them atop his boots, he snuggled beneath the sheet next to her, his arms enveloping her naked waist.
"Turns out he knew we were wanted," he said into her ear.
She started.
"I know. I was worried too, especially with his two bodyguards, but I don't think we have to worry about it. I mean, why would a man be so upset at taking too much of our money and at the same time turn us over to the police? It just doesn't make sense."
"This whole thing doesn't make sense."
"I think he can help us."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yeah."
"Do you trust him?"
"As much as I can trust anyone who isn't you." He nuzzled her ear, tickling to the point that she pushed him away. "I missed you, Bec."
"I missed you too."
Rebecca pulled him close, kissing first his neck, then his chest. She could taste him with each roll of her tongue. He gently pushed her to her back and straddled her. He kissed first her chin, then the crux of her neck. When he breathed hotly on her nipples, she arched, the electricity stunning her body. He descended further until he found her core. His tongue moved madly, caressing and embracing her until her whole body shivered. Finally she'd had too much and pulled him up to stare into his eyes. At that moment he entered her and everything else ceased to exist for a long, long moment.
Chapter 21
Rebecca awoke just as the dawn light seeped through the space beneath the curtain. Andy was still awash in his dreams, his eyes rolling inside his lids. She slid from beneath his arm and stood on the bare earth floor. She looked for her old clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. She slipped on the salwar and the kameej, then her ankle boots. She didn't have a mirror, but she felt exotic as she stepped through the curtain.
A pump above a metal bowl sat outside their hut. She filled the bowl with water and washed. Soon she was joined by others of the slum as they did their own morning ablutions, sharing in her water and her smiles. Within minutes, as if a great anthill had been disturbed, the sleeping slum was teeming with activity. Men called to other men. Women whistled for their children. The latter thundered about, miniature dust storms left in their wakes.
Chaotic as it was, Rebecca felt at home. She should have been afraid of all the people, but all she could think of was how happy she was that she wasn't alone, because if there was anything that prison taught her, being alone was punishment. So she washed, and shared her water, occasionally lending a hand as part of the community, each washing each other until t
hey were all clean.
Combs were passed about. She took one and combed her short hair again wishing that it was long. Rebecca sighed for a moment before she realized that she could grow it long. Gone were her restrictions, evaporating with the end of prison and the commutation of her sentence. She'd been so busy rushing around, keeping one step ahead of her enemies and dealing with Velvet Dogma, that she'd forgotten that she had a future beyond that.
What would she do? Part of her knew that the answer to that most important question depended upon how successful Velvet Dogma was. Another sly part of her psyche reminded her that there wouldn't be a future if the Hei Xin caught up with her. How long had it been since they'd last come after her? Two days? Had it been that long? Maybe she'd lost them for good.
A thought hit her, making her stand up straight. She smiled bright and wide. The others stared at her like she was crazy and stifled giggles. Rebecca didn't care. She'd figured something out.
She hurried into the hut and over to the mattress. She kicked Andy lightly in the leg once, then twice. "Wake up sleepyhead."
"Unhh."
"Wake up."
"Unhh...not...wake..." was all he managed before he returned to a soft snore.
Exasperated, Rebecca grasped the edge of the mattress and heaved sending Andy to the hard earthen floor of the hut. She unceremoniously dumped the mattress on top of him, then sat on the chair.
"What the hell?" Andy fought with the mattress and the sheet, twisting beneath the mess as he fought to escape the cloying sheets. When he finally managed to free himself, he spied her laughing silently.
"Who made you the Wake-up Nazi?" he growled. "Doesn't anyone have respect for the sleeping these days?"
He managed to stand, then naked as the day he was born, he stormed out of the hut. Screams heralded his return as a split second later he leaped back inside and pulled the curtain over his very awake and anxious private part. His eyes were as wide as his face was red.
"Why didn't you tell me they were outside?" he demanded.
"I'm the Wake-up Nazi, not the Bathroom Nazi. Not my job." She appraised him with raised eyebrows.
"But you could have—" He grinned. "Wait a minute. You're enjoying this!"
"Immensely."
"Maybe I should go out there and give them a show."
"Maybe you should. Whatever you're going to do, hurry up about it. I'm hungry and I have an idea, and if I'm right, this will really help us get out of here."
"You have an idea?"
"Don't say it like it's never happened before, or I will throw you back outside." She stood and edged towards him. She still had the towel from her washing and held it like she was ready to whip it.
"You wouldn't dare."
"You have no idea."
His gaze alternated between the wicked edge of the towel and her blue eyes. It didn't take long for him to surrender. He let go of the curtain and marched to where his clothes were stacked. "Let me get these on and I'll take you to breakfast. If we can find some coffee, then maybe I'll be coherent enough to listen to your idea."
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on stools beside a small table, steaming cups of coffee in front of them. The slum was set up in neighborhoods, each meant to be self-sufficient without being competitive to the others. Huts had been converted to stores, a clinic, several restaurants and a black market cigarette shop where a spindly old man rolled the tobacco right out in the open. She'd marveled over this, remembering when they'd been outlawed during the Smoke Free America Celebration in 2016. Then again, she'd reminded herself, America didn't exist anymore either.
A boy of no more than ten brought a platter piled with pakora, rice and chutney for the middle of the table. The steam from the basket of freshly-made nan mingled with the steam from the coffee to create a mouth-watering aroma. Rebecca began to eat and explained what she'd discovered through mouthfuls.
"Remember when the Day Eaters saved us from the police?"
"Sure," Andy said, shoving a piece of nan heaped with chutney into his mouth. "They set off one of their EMP bombs, then spirited us underground."
"What did you say about the EMP bombs? What is it they did?"
"Jesus, this stuff is hot." He began to fan his mouth with his hand, looking around for something other than hot coffee to staunch the pain. The more he looked, the less he found, until he almost panicked. He looked at her. "I need some water or I'm going to spontaneously combust."
"You didn't have to eat it like it was jelly." The chutney was hot, but not insufferably so. She liked it in small quantities just fine.
"It's not jelly?"
Like a little angel, the boy suddenly delivered a mug of white liquid. Andy grabbed it and gulped it down. Only when it was gone did his eyes widen and his mouth tried to turn inside out.
"Gawd. That's awful. What was that?"
"Andy," whispered Rebecca. The last thing they needed to do was offend their hosts.
"I'm not kidding. It tasted like kitty litter." He took a few tentative sips of coffee, then pushed both the platter and the cup towards Rebecca. "I'll stick with coffee. You can't mess up coffee."
Rebecca sighed. Sometimes he seemed so sophisticated, so learned in the ways of things. At others, like here in the slum, he was as much a fish out of water as she was. She found it both endearing and disappointing.
She asked her question again.
"The EMP Bombs fry any unshielded electronics within range."
That's what she thought he'd said. "What about the electronics in my organs? Did the EMP affect them?"
"Those are usually shielded, but you were right there in the blast zone." He snapped his fingers. "Hey, if they were knocked out, then you're home free. The Hei Xin have no way to track you now."
He'd stolen her thunder, but that was okay. She smiled and nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Can we check to make sure?"
"I bet Darshan has the equipment for it. After breakfast-"
"What equipment of Darshan's are you wanting?" asked the small man as he approached their table. He still wore the maroon tunic from the night before, but it looked as new and as clean as the day it was made.
"Hey, Darshan. Good morning, please come join us." Andy stood and grabbed a chair from a nearby table, placing it between his and Rebecca's.
"I'll be thanking you for this. I've had many good breakfasts here. Very many yes." He turned to Rebecca. "How was your evening? Did you have much washing?"
"Yes." She couldn't help but giggle. The cadence of his speech matched that of Marathi, but the words were pure English, if a little odd now and then. "I enjoyed the washing very much. Please thank the ladies for me."
Darshan smiled brilliantly and nodded. "And you Mr. Andy, did you enjoy the much drinking?"
Andy eyed Rebecca and smiled half-heartedly. "I did enjoy it. Thank you, Darshan."
"Then the hospitality is working. We have much good hospitality in the slum. Maybe you remember us one day. Now what is it you'll be wanting from Darshan?"
"We need a Levy Monitor. I need to see if her chips are still functioning. Do you have one we could use for a few minutes?"
Darshan looked sadly at his hands. "I'm very much in the being sorry for you, Mr. Andy. I don't have this thing that you are wanting. That is one of the things that the government is being very serious about." He glanced up. "But I know where you can be finding one, at the official entrance to the slum. You could pass by and then see if it is in the working, yes?"
"Risky," said Andy more to himself than anyone else.
"We might have to take the chance," Rebecca said.
"Maybe. They're almost ready for you at the cave," he said, eyeing Darshan. "We might have to split up."
"Why?"
"Panchet— I can't leave him like this."
That's right. Panchet had gone missing. Rebecca had liked the quirky little man. Without his help they'd have never come this far. She did feel a certain debt.
Darshan suddenly shrieked. "Oh
Yes. This is being one of the great slum days!" He grabbed the cup that the white liquid had come in and sniffed it. "Wonderful. So wonderful. You are so lucky to have had this, Mr. Andy. I am in the hoping that they have some more for poor Darshan."
He raised his voice and rattled off a long string of Marathi, which was answered by a man from the depths of the hut. Darshan shrieked again.
"This is not one of the great slum days. This is the greatest slum days. Noni is having one more cup for Darshan." He clapped his hands together and smiled gigantically.
Andy's mouth had almost turned inside out again, his eyes reevaluating Darshan and his wish to drink the vile stuff. Rebecca thought the whole thing was great comedy and ached to see Andy's reaction when Darshan chugged his down.
Taking small careful steps, the little boy brought out a mug filled to the brim. Darshan took it from him, sipped carefully, then nodded maniacally.
"This is being the greatest slum day."
"How can you drink that stuff?" Andy managed to ask.
"I have been in the wanting of this for too long." Darshan took another sip and smacked his lips appreciatively.
"Okay, I can't stand it any longer," said Rebecca. "Darshan, please tell us what it is that you're drinking."
"This is one of the most rare of things to be drinking. Very difficult to find because it is only being ready certain times a year. How do you say, it comes from the place of kitties?" He rubbed his stomach
Rebecca and Andy looked at each other for a moment of confusion, then looked at Darshan. "What did you say?" she asked.
"It comes from the place of kitties. You know..." He gestured towards his breasts and groin.
Darshan's explanation did nothing to improve the vagueness of his original statement.
Andy stared at him as if he was speaking in tongues. "What are you talking about, Darshan?"
Velvet Dogma About 3300 wds Page 16
