A Dupe Jones | « Part 3 & 4 »
part three
Zan barely got the words out past his tight throat. They had lost
meaning and were just a product of his thoughts before he approached
the wall to stand next to her. He hardly knew what he was doing now.
Her little body curved into his, burning him with her heat. He stood
still with her like that for he didn't know how long. The sounds of
the club came to him from far away like muffled echoes down a tunnel,
as his body seemed to configure itself to hers, their hearts beating in
time together. She fit perfectly into him, as if she was the missing
piece of his puzzle or the answer to the first question he ever asked
but never got the answer to. He didn't want to move, even as he tried
to distance his brain from how right she felt.
His hand stirred on the soft skin of her neck, finding her pulse there
and lightly rubbing circles around it. Her soft whimper fascinated
him. He wanted to hear it again and started to...Wait, yo...he had to
get control. And he would have if she hadn't touched him, her hand
lightly sliding along his forearm at her waist. A frisson of
familiarity went through him. This wasn't the emissary - no, not
making him feel this way. She couldn't be 'cause he didn't want to let
go of her, so the natural thing to do was...He turned her slightly
towards him, cupping her jaw line. He couldn't see her face and it
didn't even matter. Zan brushed his lips against hers and heard her
soft gasp but was unprepared for the jolt of bliss that went straight
to his head and then through the rest of him. What the-? As he turned
her, unresisting, completely around in his arms, she sucked her breath
in sharply when he scraped the palm of his hand against her navel ring.
He barely noticed and without pausing to look at her, brought his
mouth down on her closed one. Her hands slid slowly up his arms to
grip his shoulders but she wasn't letting him in. And Zan had to get
in.
"Open your mouth," he commanded roughly against her lips as he tried to
urge them apart with his, his hands roving up and down her back and
pressing her firm bottom, molding her to him.
"Please," she managed to whisper breathlessly, briefly turning her
cheek to his mouth. He sucked her lips back to his. He knew what she
wanted. But he didn't know if he could be gentle with her right now,
whoever she was. The need to possess her, this faceless girl in his
arms, surged through him as if she was as necessary to him as his next
breath. Sh*t, what was she doing to him? Her lips parted slightly
again, to say something perhaps. But as if he were starving, he wasted
no time tasting her fully. Zan groaned, immediately overcome by her
potent flavor...peaches. Oh, he loved him some peaches! Right now he
could eat them...all night. He dug his hands into her thick hair,
loosening the pins holding the silky dark mass in place as his tongue
mated with hers, leaving no part of her mouth unexplored.
In her head Syn felt like she was alternately sky diving and drowning.
It was scary but it felt so right, as if she was created to be with
only him like this, at this moment, forever. It was mad crazy, but she
couldn't stop! Her arms slid around his waist, up his back and all the
way down in open invitation, mimicking the way he had caressed her, and
demanding that he lose himself in her as completely as she was lost in
him. And she was definitely lost. Ooo...or had she been found at
last? With an uncontrollable passion bordering on violence, they
kissed on and on in the dark until her hands took hold of the front of
his vest, ready to pull him to the floor to complete what they started,
when a tiny glimmer of sanity ripped a little tear in her blanket of
magenta and grew. She pulled back a little between each kiss, now
attempting to draw breath and maybe express a coherent question.
"Oh...I..." There was a rushing noise around them and her unknown
captor paused his eager feasting on her to look toward the commotion.
Too late. A tide of people knocked into them shouting and screaming,
disconnecting the two of them and smashing against the wall with
raucous cheers. With a functional piece of her mind Syn stumbled back
even further out of the way, trying to get her bearings. The air was
thick now with the odor of whiskey breath and sweat...but the taste of
his wild strawberry kiss was still in her mouth and on her swollen lips
as she licked them feeling bereft and vulnerable without his warmth.
Someone grabbed her arm.
"Man, did you see that?" It was Wheat with a frantic Lucia beside him.
"Oh Syn, I'm sorry! It took Wheat sooooo friggin long to answer his
d*mn phone."
"I turned it off for a while. Sue me."
Lucia turned away form him, holding a hand up to his face. "Like that
makes some kind of sense. Syn, are you all right? I saw the Slamming
Pr*ck coming and thought, 'Oh my g*d!' I knew I left you somewhere
over here"
"The what?" Syn shook her head, trying to get back to a lucid state.
She felt like she was just regaining gravity.
"A bunch of guys get really drunk, and they're so drunk they think
slamming their bods into walls is fun. It's a new rave thing," Wheat
offered, steering the girls towards the exit. "Anybody got a coat or
hat to pick up or steal?"
"Ay, slow down, thug!" Lucia demanded. "These heels get a little
higher after I get my mint julep on."
"Nobody told you to 'mint julep' a couple of Sweet Ninas."
"Oh, I only had one!"
Still smirking Wheat turned to Syn with a startled, "Damn, Syn. What
the h*ll happen to you? Your hair is shaped like Gumby's head all
chewed up."
Lucia poked his side. "She probably got to grind through about five
songs with some of them hard bodies in there while I was squatting with
diarrhea in that nasty 'ladies' room, trying to reach you on the
friggin phone. Now can we go! I'm really and truly done."
A relieved Syn climbed into the roomy back seat of Wheat's
great-grandfather's 1978 Chevy.
"I swear, you need two lanes for this monster."
"Lucia, don't go there unless you wanna be left on this corner to hook
your way home." He pulled off with a screech of tires.
"Blah, blah, blah...gimme some of them Skittles."
"Greedy ho!"
"Just pass 'em, Roebuck."
"You are so lucky I'm driving right now it's not even funny. You just
wait"
While Wheat and Lucia kept up a steady banter, Syn put her head back
and watched the Manhattan lights endlessly fly by leading the way
across the bridge finally to a more subdued Brooklyn. Wheat dropped
them off at Syn's apartment. Lucia fell asleep almost as soon as her
head hit the pillow. Syn, of course, lay awake thinking about the one
she had joined with, whose face she never saw. Yet she...knew him.
She touched her lips often. It had been a feverish dream, one she
wished were true. But Syn was practical and she didn't really like
being that out of control. He was a complete stranger and
she had been more than ready to...! Syn moved restlessly. She
preferred to see things as they were, not as she wanted them to be.
And what she wanted right now was too sublime and probably as
impossible as feeling a certain color after it's moment had passed.
Finally, facing her window and watching the dawn come, she prayed as
usual for her family and friends, for peace among all people and peace
within herself. And she prayed for her stranger, whoever and wherever
he may be.
When the wave of revelers hit them Zan put his hand out, shocking a couple guys who fell to the floor. Then he quickly checked himself 'cause he felt like putting down the whole crowd, everyone who had just separated him from her. He shoved people out of the way, checking the floor to make sure she hadn't been trampled. Nothing not even the guys he dropped. He was minimally satisfied that he hadn't killed them with his unrestrained reflex. Where was she? Sh*t, who was she? He couldn't feel her anymore. He searched the entire club. Where the h*ll had she gone? As soon as he had walked into The Black Juice he felt it. The emissary or something else was in the joint. His senses led him straight to the wall across the room. And there she was sending strong, warm pulse waves through him and acting like she didn't know he was there. He stood near her to see what she would do. She was as aware of him as he was of her and that told him she wasn't the alien stalker because she hadn't snatched him off to La La land or bitten his head off. Suddenly he felt a little burst of energy from her and knew she was preparing to make her move, whatever that would be and he was ready...or so he thought. The moment he put his hands on her he was caught. She wrapped him up tight and he didn't want to get loose. If anything, he wanted to get more ensnared in her. And now Zan felt like a part of himself had been cut off.
The air outside the club was bordering on cold but it didn't bother him. It was just what he needed. Why was he getting so worked upover swinging a little episode in the dark with some strange chick? As if he hadn't done some sh*t not even mentioned in the Kama Sutra. It was just a kiss, for crysakes! That's all. He probably would've just done her against the wall for the h*ll of it and jetted. He walked a little faster down Broadway, looking more intimidating than usual to passersby, as he tried to convince himself. Well sh*t, what was there to convince? His Luke Skywalker problems hadn't gone anywhere, not to mention he wasn't sure he could even trust his own family. He had to focus on staying alive and more specifically what the f*ck he was gonna do now. He felt like he needed to rethink everything, like he was slipping or something. Not good. So he would lay low for a few hours in a calm spot where he could get his sh*t together again. Having decided that Zan slowed his pace and felt his stress level drop little by little. He had nearly arrived at his chosen chill-out destination when suddenly an appetite for peaches assailed him and wouldn't leave his head.
Sh*t!
Lonnie lay there, staring up at the crystal chandelier, wondering why anybody would put one as large as that over a bed. Freaks. At first she got a kick out of being there, but now... She hated feeling uncertain and out of place. She needed to be in total control of every situation or she went nuts. It had been a mistake to come here. Some of Rath's impulsiveness must have rubbed off on her, making her weak. She turned her head to stare at the empty champagne bottle and an empty bottle of pills. It was nice to know that there was a way they could enjoy alcohol without passing out. But so what? Lonnie rolled her eyes and fixed them on the chandelier again as she contemplated her fork in the road. The ends were sharp. Somebody was gonna bleed and it wasn't gonna be her. But she had to think everything through. She just wasn't sure which way she wanted to roll and no one was gonna friggin rush her either. She turned her head the other way. Especially not him, no matter how good he was. When his hand stirred and began to caress her bare stomach, she closed her eyes, biting into her bottom lip. And oh, he was good. She could feel his eyes on her now, intense eyes that either put her on the offensive, taking no prisoners, or put her body beneath his (or on top depending on her mood.)
"You'd better be careful, Vilandra." He stroked her cheek. "This is either the beginning or the end."
She turned her head, casually knocking his hand away. "Even if it's both it don't matter."
He waited a beat, his eyes narrowing. "Well?" he demanded with an edge.
Lonnie smirked at him. "I don't give up the 411 just 'cause you do me good." She raked a hand through his curly hair. "But try an encore and see where it gets you." He sat up abruptly and she chuckled. "I don't have to remind you of the magnitude of this situation. Don't make the mistake of forgetting. Even you can get burned by this and there is no turning back." He ignored the warning glitter in Lonnie's eyes as he got dressed.
"You ain't even gonna shower?"
He smiled slightly buttoning up his shirt. "No, I like the smell of you on me."
In a stony silence she went to wash up in the fancy bathroom. When she came back out, she noted without surprise that he was gone. Lonnie packed her bag, of course stripping the room of everything that wasn't nailed down, and jetted, heading uptown towards Bloomingdale's.
part four
Lucia absently watched the sunlight that filled Syn's small cheerful
kitchen. "You ever get homesick?"
Syn, covered with a frilly granny apron, looked up from the stove.
"Well sometimes. You know my parents have several issues that made it
real easy to move fifteen hundred miles away. But...I still love them.
Mack keeps asking me about Thanksgiving, but I don't know. He doesn't
know I had a real nasty argument with Mom right before I left."
"You need to patch that sh*t up, girl. You lucky to have your Mom
around."
Syn studied Lucia's downcast face. Oh d*mn. She'd forgotten that
today was the seven-year anniversary of Lucia's big sister's death.
Rachel had been their age at the time. Syn hugged her.
"I'm all right. I just still really miss her." Lucia's wave of grief
passed as quickly as it had come for now. Then she turned her full
attention to her friend. "Okay, don't think I didn't notice, Syn."
"Huh? Hold up. Let me do this first." Syn concentrated on flipping a
large pancake with two thin spatulas and smiled with satisfaction when
it landed perfectly on the other side.
"That one's mine, right? Okay, I was way too tired last night to get
the scoop. But Wheat was right about your hair, you know. It looked
like you'd been worked over. What happened?"
"It was very...unusual," Syn said hesitantly. She carefully lifted a
pancake from one of the pans onto Lucia's plate.
"No, I want the one you just turned. Please!"
Syn exhaled loudly.
"Thanks a bunch. Okay. So don't stop there, ho! Spill!"
Syn suddenly felt a little shy about the incident. "Well...I finally
met the person giving off those vibes sorta."
"Sorta?"
"He "
"He? Well, this is getting good. Go ahead."
"I'm trying, thank you! Anyway, he was standing right next to me and
the feelings were so strong that I got scared. I was gonna run, but he
grabbed me and "
"Did the s.o.b. hurt you?" Lucia had the avenging angel face on.
"'Cause we can go back there and yank that fool's vibrating ass."
"No,no, Lucia. Will you let me tell it?"
"Well, I'm listening."
"He kissed me."
"Oh my g*d! Was it good? What'd he look like? Better than Roman or
Enriquι or that yummy brother of yours?"
"Well, I don't know."
"What do you mean, Syndara? You kissed a guy without getting a good
look at him? His mouth could have been crusty. Girl, you gotta look
for these things! Was there tongue action?"
"It just happened - !"
"Oh my g*d!"
"It was dark. I was drawn to him and it just felt so right. Plus, his
kiss tasted like strawberries. You know I love strawberries and I've
never experienced that before - so it didn't matter what he
looked like."
"Maybe he just ate some before he 'bumped into' you, Syn."
"No, he didn't. I can't explain it. It was something about him that
made him taste like strawberries and that meant it was...right to kiss
him." Syn had to laugh. "I'm not crazy! I know this doesn't make any
sense. Here, hold your plate up."
"Mmm, this looks so good. Thanks. Well, maybe I should meet Mystery
Dude and get a taste myself so I can understand what you mean, hm?"
"I don't think so," Syn replied with an only half-playful glare.
"Just kidding. Whoo, look at you! All jealous and don't even know
what boy looks like. Mm! He sure put the mojo on you. But don't say
it doesn't matter what he looks like. If he was Quasimodo, you'd
hesitate just a li'l bit, so lets keep it real, k? So did yous talk
at all? I mean, what led up to this fruit-flavored Kiss of Kisses?"
"He told me he was gonna 'end me' if I moved."
"Hmmm...since when do death threats turn you on?"
"Tck! Of course it wasn't that. Look, you'd have to be there to
understand."
"Well, then what - ?"
"Let me sum it up for you." Syn poured syrup as she spoke. "We kissed
until that drunken crowd of goons nearly trampled us. We got split up
and at that point you and Wheat walked up. We didn't exchange names or
phone numbers. We each don't even know what the other looks like. I'm
sure he couldn't see me. I'll probably never meet this guy again.
I'll...It was a fluke. It was hormones. It was the Sweet Nina.
Strawberries or no strawberries, it wasn't real. It was just...this
Twilight Zone occurrence. Weird and amusing enough to record in my
diary later. End of tale."
Lucia chewed and nodded slowly. "Reeeally? Is that why you have
pancake flavored syrup on your plate?"
"What?" Syn snapped before setting the Aunt Jemima bottle down next to
the pool she just made. "Ohhh, sh*t "
"You don't mean any of that. All those feelings you said you had
they must mean something. Why don't you go back, see if you can find
him, and drag him into the light, please, so you and I can see what
kind of fish you caught?"
Syn cast her an irritated glance and dumped her soaked pancake in the
freezer garbage bag. "I thought you didn't like 'all this paranormal
stuff'."
"I don't. But this is sounding romantic weird, but romantic - and
I'm all about the romance."
Syn sighed before sipping her strawberry tea, considering the
suggestion. She got the feeling she'd be asking for trouble if she
went looking for him. But oh what sweet a trouble it could be! Mm.
It was true she wanted to see him face to face, but she wasn't going
back to the Black Juice this week. She had too much to do. However,
Syn believed in a flexible kind of fate. A contradiction? Sure.
Nothing was really fixed but what will be, will be.
That night in the basement of Bloomingdale's Rath paced and Lonnie, picking her nails, weaved from side to side without moving her feet.
"Yo. He said he'd be here by now. I don't trust that li'l pipsqueak."
Lonnie's eyes began to follow his restless movements.
"What we gotta do? Wait 'til this motha opens in the morning? Where is he??"
"Will you quit pacing? He'll be here. Just chill."
"Yeah well, he said he'd be here with the friggin orb at 12:30am and here it is d*mn near two oh-f*ckin-clock. I coulda been at the club, man. This ain't no way to do business."
Suddenly a voice came from nowhere. "Ha! Pod Boy, please. What business do you know how to do except creep out the locals in this city of slime?"
They turned quickly to find Nicholas standing there.
"F*ck you! You late."
"Such a charmer you have here, Vilandra."
Lonnie rolled her eyes. "Cut the crap, Nicky. You got the communicator or not?"
Nicholas handed it to her. "Now, are you remotely capable of getting him to at least meet with the emissary? He needs to see something in the Zan Kapol shar-Kelos Hod hybrid's brain such as it is."
"You a smarmy li'l dude. You know that?" Rath sneered.
"I know something relevant to the situation at hand. I know that the representatives of the four other planets aren't available to you anymore."
Lonnie stepped close to him. "Don't f*ck with me, Nicholas."
Nicholas smiled with guile and admiration as he looked her up and down. "I'd really love to actually."
Rath stalked towards them. "What you say, man??"
Lonnie pressed a hand to his chest, holding him back. "Rath, chill. We ain't got time for this. Look, Nicholas, the shape shifter told us about this other emissary who was gonna get ill if Zan didn't meet with the first one."
"Get ill?"
She sighed impatiently. "Korn said this dude was gonna try to wipe us out if Zan didn't step up."
Nicholas laughed. "Ah, for once Drakorin has made himself useful. First of all, you should've had a clue that you weren't the real Royal Four when they dumped you underground on this forsaken ball like so much refuse. And if the little bells didn't go off then, they should have as soon as that wastoid finally showed up claiming to be your 'protector'. It's sad really."
Rath was almost at the end of his short rope. "F*ck that! We real enough. You standing right the f*ck there looking at how real we is. Yo, Lonnie, why we dealing with this fool?"
All traces of humor left Nicholas face and it became a cold mask. "Because you don't know what the f*ck you're doing, Mohawk. You think I don't have better things to do with my time than lead you around by the nose? If it were up to me we wouldn't be dealing with you test tube rejects anyway. You were a stupid idea from the very beginning all eight of you which is a sure sign that the House of Kapol has lost it and that someone with a viable vision of the future should be and is on the throne now."
Lonnie held Rath back again and smiled. "Well, Nicky, you must not have better things to do 'cause you here. Everybody in this big ol' universe wants something. We wanna go home. And you want...?" She raised her brows.
Nicholas stared at her face and warmed up just a little. "Just get him to take the test within fourteen days. Like I was saying, the reps aren't available right now. The Five Planets are calling a two week cease fire for the Holy Days."
"Holy Days?"
"Don't ask me. I'm not into that mumbo-jumbo. Just have the 'king' ready to receive the reps when they come back in fourteen days. They will expect to meet with him within an hour of their return. And then . Vilandra, stop picking your nails. Listen to me. There will be no other contact with you if he doesn't show. Then the second emissary I guess that's a less alarming word for it will be activated. And believe me, my dazed and confused space children, you don't want that."
Lonnie rolled her eyes way up. "Yeah yeah okay. Um, next time you decide to take the orb, give us the heads up, k?"
"How many times do I have to say that I didn't take it?"
"Look, li'l man," Rath spat out. "Either this is the same one you stole from here or you stole it from somewhere else. Either way, since this has one of the Kapol symbols on it, you ain't supposed to have it you being a f*ckin traitor and all. All I gots to say is, I'm watching you...Nicky."
"You, um, do that, k? I've gotta go. Just don't screw this up. You've got everything to gain and nothing to lose but this sh*tty life you're living...in the sewers no less. G*d! Anyway, don't call me, I'll call you." His gaze lingered on Lonnie, then he was gone.
Lonnie pressed the orb into the spot on the wall where they originally saw it. It lit up briefly, went dead, and then became invisible.
"Where is Zan anyway, yo? He been gone since we seen Korn."
"He'll show up. My brother's a responsible guy. He'll be back soon," Lonnie said, lightly tracing the edges of the orb that she could no longer see.
"He better or things are gonna get kinda precarious around here."
"Don't worry, be happy. Let's go."
"I wanna go to The Razor. It stays open 'til six."
"No, Mohawk...I want some. Now."
Rath leered at her look of invitation. "Word?"
She linked her arm in his. "To your motha."
All was quiet for a good five minutes after they left and then suddenly...
"Mothaf*ckas!!"
...a bunch of boxes full of clothes near the orb's wall were shoved violently, some landing sixty feet away, accompanied by a string of vicious cursing. Clothes were strewn everywhere.
Zan jumped out and began pacing the floor like a trapped animal, looking all around with eyes glittering with frustrated rage. All these years of being together, of being a f*ckin family, didn't mean sh*t to these mothaf*ckas! He was about to put his fist through the friggin wall. "Sh*t!" But instead he laced his fingers behind his head, shutting his eyes tight and trying to think of something else besides different ways to kill them. They were busy meeting aliens behind his back and making plans about him! And not just any aliens either. Nicholas! Zan was so enraged at the thought he was almost nauseous with it. Nicholas' real name was Deshamos Sartor and he was as treacherous as the worst f*ckin snake. He had been a trusted and valued member of the Antarian court. Now he was with Khivar Sorhl Daumeyn, that mothaf*cka. Oh no, Zan couldn't think about the crown thief right now or he might go permanently ballistic. But Lonnie and Rath. It was unf*ckinbelievable! But a voice whispered inside him, Was it really? And where the f*ck did Ava fit in all this if she fit at all? Bad memories of events long ago, memories he hadn't forgotten but locked away inside himself, came through the red haze to the forefront of his consciousness. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to remember...
They had huddled together, back to back in the squalor of an unfamiliar place, fiercely attempting to fend off the hands that reached for them with intentions they could not name but could only feel were horrible. It was a time just after they broke out of the pods too soon. That vulnerable time when walking took effort and before they learned speech. They had no protector and no powers, only each other. That's when they had first bonded. But then...
Stop!
Zan braced himself against some pipes running low against the wall, willing the memories away and trying to get a grip on his anger. Okay, what the f*ck are you gonna do now? What do you want? Inexplicably he had a flash of his hands plunging into a luxuriously thick head of hair and lips that clung sweetly to his in the dark. He coldly shoved the image away. He didn't have time for no Mickey Mouse bullsh*t. Turning his thoughts to his 'family', it was clear that he wanted nothing more than to f*ck their sh*t up but good. Yeah, but you need a plan for that, 'king'. Well, he didn't have one. He had nothing. He didn't have anything or anyone.
When his heartbeat slowed and the violence in him cooled down enough for him to think clearly, he approached the spot where Lonnie placed the orb and stared at it. He was tempted to snatch it down and smash it. But no. He'd go back and pretend he knew nothing. 'Cause the truth was he really didn't know anything except his peeps weren't down with him anymore if they ever had been. No, he'd see how they acted and what they said. He had no choice but to take the sh*t one step at a time within two weeks or less.
Ava had some real misgivings about what she'd done. It was plain stupid. She looked down at the orb in her hands. She just didn't want to go back to Antar. She didn't want to be in a war or be a queen or any of that sh*t. She wanted to stay on Earth with Zan. Lonnie and Rath could do whatever the h*ll they wanted. Scottie could beam them up and they could rule the whole friggin universe. Ava loved New York, but not the sewers although she was used to them. There was no reason she and Zan couldn't live a little better - get a nice apartment aboveground in Manhattan and live like real people instead of a bunch of half 'n' half alien life-forms hiding out and waiting to be 'summoned' to more than likely die a second time. Thanks but no thanks. Ava handled the orb gingerly and watched it glow every time she moved her finger over the symbol at the center. Still, taking it was too risky. Anyway, with her luck Korn would get a replacement or something. Ava sighed looking blankly around the room. She hoped Zan would come back soon; she was getting worried. Something wasn't right. Uh-oh, someone was coming. She hastily hid the orb in her bag thinking, damn, she should have just dropped it in the Hudson River but something made her keep it. Yeah, a "Lonnie finding out and killing her" something. Dumb, dumb! Ava thought, watching her two least favorite aliens stroll in. Why couldn't one of their pods have been the leaky one instead of hers?
"Avaaaa!" Rath came towards her with outstretched arms. "Feel like a three-way tonight?" Then he laughed at the look on her face.
Lonnie moved close behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He turned quickly and they started to kiss crudely, open-mouthed, tongues writhing like snakes. Ava left them. She'd watched their wild humping one time too many. She went down a few corridors, then up some steps to a cramped little spot she found where she could get some sleep or just chill whenever the two freakazoids got it on. They never cared if she or Zan were there. It probably turned them on. She dug into her bag and played with the orb again. Hmm, too bad it wasn't a little longer and a lot thinner...
Lonnie lay back, arms stretched above her head, staring blankly at the ceiling while Rath looked down at her, his face contorted, and rode her like racehorse. Rath was pretty good most of the time but his stuff wasn't working for her tonight.
Rath really messed up by sinking his teeth into her shoulder. Larek never did that. The other one did but she didn't want to think about him. "G*ddammit, Rath, you - !"
A round rubber object hit Rath in the head and his temple bumped into Lonnie's.
"What the - ?!"
"Stop f*ckin. I wanna sleep."
Lonnie and Rath whipped their heads around.
"Zan," Lonnie said, roughly pushing Rath out of her.
"Oww!"
"Where you been?" Lonnie asked, wiping the stickiness from her inner thighs with Rath's shirt.
"D*mn!" Rath exclaimed, snatching it from her and shaking it. Then he smirked. Boy, was it soaked! "Your timing is way off. You know that, right?" he said, still trying to catch his breath.
"Whatever. Where's Ava?"
"In one of her holes somewhere. She took the hint unlike some other peeps."
"Well, I'm back now," said Ava walking in without her bag, looking anxiously at Zan. She wanted to be around when he came back, and felt relieved that he was standing there now even if his expression was nasty. She moved to her own bed. She wasn't gonna say nothing else 'cause he was clearly in an ugly mood.
"What did I tell you, Ava?"
"Well, they was doing it, and I ain't feel like watching no live porn tonight."
Zan ignored them all as he stripped and dropped down on his bed. He didn't respond to any of the rapid fire questions launched at him about the summit or anything else.
"Well, d*mn! He gonna cock-block me then sleep. I guess I'll take the first watch 'cause my sh*t is messed up."
"Yeah, it is," Lonnie muttered, rolling over.
"Excuse you?" Rath snapped.
"We'll talk later, Casanova."
Rath shook his head. "Boyyyy...everybody's a smart ass tonight."
Minutes later everybody seemed to be asleep while Rath played Donkey Kong, cheering silently every time he scored.
Syn's phone rang, jerking her awake. "Hello," she murmured groggily, face down in the pillow.
"Heyyyy," returned an overly cheerful but familiar voice.
"I hope this isn't who it sounds like."
She heard raucous music and drunken laughter on the line and in the background. "Sorry...I'm sorry...Let me...I just wanna...um. Can we get back together? You and me, y' know."
Syn sat up. "Roman?"
"Yeah baby."
"You must be completely out of your mind calling me at somebody's..." She glanced at the clock. "...at somebody's 3:58am talking some nonsense."
He tried unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter. "I know. I know. I'm sorry. But I couldn't get up the nerve to say nothing before. I miss you, Syn. Let's get back together. None of these other hoes mean anything to me. I wanna be with you. Plee-eease!"
"I do not talk to drunks and I don't talk to nobody at four in the friggin morning. Good-bye!"
"Awww, baby..."
Click!
Syn had just tuned over angrily in bed and stopped shifting the covers when the phone rang again."
"What??"
" I love hic you. "
Syn slammed the phone down then took it off the hook.
"Well, are you gonna give him another chance?"
The girls were lingering near a hotdog stand in front of St.Vincent's Hospital in Greenwich Village.
"Are you kidding me?" Syn began with her mouth full, pausing to swallow. "You were the one so happy I was over him and talking to other guys."
Lucia was staring down at herself and chewing as they walked slowly towards a bench. "Maybe we should have changed out of these clothes. The candy striper look just isn't me." She sighed. "Maybe if it was gold lamι..."
Syn shifted the book bag on her shoulder and sing-songed, "Hello? Real world calling Lucia Gotti."
"That's me! L.G. Don't make me call Papa John, and I ain't talking about the pizza man either." It was a running joke that Lucia was related to the mob boss of past fame. "Well okay, yeah I was glad 'cause it seemed like you were just pining away for him. He was a jerk that one time, but before that he was good, right? Maybe you should listen to what he has to say. It's not like yous have to be exclusive again. And speaking of amour...what's going on with Enriqui-qui-quι, huh?"
"First of all, yeah, Roman was nice but he was used to girls offering before he even thought about asking. When I didn't follow suit, he had a problem with it - more than once. Plus, that was d*mn rude calling me like that last night! And second, Enriquι is sweet and all, but ...when he took me out last night he talked an awful lot about his so-called ex-girlfriend, Gabriela. So, ah, I'm thinking a reunion is eminent."
"Aw dag. Well...he was gorgeous."
"Gorgeous and still taken. I'm not one to come between true love or true obsession. I don't need the drama."
"I hear you. Been there, done that."
They sat in silence, eating. It had been a long morning of classes at NYU followed by three hours of volunteer service at the hospital. And the day still wasn't over for Lucia who had to meet with her voice coach, the eccentric Madame Zeehandelaar.
Syn laughed. "Is that even a real name?"
"It's on her drivers license. But no, Zee Zee's not gonna work my nerves tonight. I got something for her if she tries 'cause I'm too done today. Do you know last week she had a number one royal fit when her nephew came downstairs and started talking to me? Oh, Syn, she carried on like a Byberry revue! Screeching and screaming about her broken concentration. But she was in the kitchen making coffee at the time! That lady...I just don't know sometimes. She's a great coach but..."
Syn had stopped listening because someone's color had crept up on her. It was sharply pointed at her face. She was being watched or stalked by a slimy green uniquely mixed with a dull red. Dawdek.
"Let's go. I want to stop by Mack's new job," she said, looking around and not finding the culprit.
"Aww, I can't go see him! I gotta go back across the bridge to deal with Madame Cra-Zee," Lucia whined, trying to keep up with Syn who was walking briskly towards the subway entrance at 14th Street. "So he quit the managerial position at one of Satan's gift shops, huh? Where's he working now?"
"Um, I don't know where he's working. He just gave me the address and said it was a surprise."
"Ooo, sounds intriguing!"
"Yeah."
They reached the platform and the downtown train was approaching. Syn was breathing more easily now that the colors had faded.
"Syn, what's the matter? You looked scared. What were we just running from?"
"I felt this ugly person's ugly colors. He was watching me I think."
"Who?"
They stepped into a near empty car.
"Some creep named Hanson Dawdek."
"Never heard of him. What did he do?"
"Well, Mack knows him from his neighborhood and he patronized Mack's occult shop too. There's just something really horrible about him. But I'm not gonna worry about it unless a pattern of him popping up develops. Let's not talk about him anymore."
"About who?" Lucia answered, patting her friend's hand. "Well, here's your stop. Call me after nine. I should be home by then. I wanna hear all about Mr. Mackenzee Brad Pitt Morgan." She batted her eyes, her face full of dreamy longing.
Syn laughed. "You silly!...All right, Lu. See ya."
"Ciao, babe."
The subway doors swished closed.
Syn walked over four blocks to the address Mack quoted over the phone yesterday. It turned out to be a three-story barn of a place, painted neon yellow-green with floor to ceiling windows. Way up near the roof was the name of the store made of four-foot high, bright red metal, shaped into the name "Artislife" in calligraphy.
She walked in and immediately saw Mack behind the counter, facing a long line of twenty-something art students and some hang-tough hippies mixing it with the William F. Buckley types. Smiling, she waved and caught his eye. He waved back and motioned for a clerk in a nearby aisle to take over for a minute.
"My little sis!" he said, walking over and hugging her liked he didn't just see her a week ago.
"Mack, you are so sneaky! When and how did this happen? Why didn't you tell me until last night?"
He put an arm around her shoulders while they strolled around the first floor. "What can I say, kid? It's me. Robby lost the shop. It turns out he owes money to everybody in New York State. So I called up one of my old seminarian professors who's teaching at your NYU. I felt kinda funny 'cause I hadn't spoken to him in two years. But screw it. I needed a d*mn job!"
"You sound like you were thirty seconds away from being homeless. You know I'd have helped you out. You're my brother."
"I know that, Syndara. But this ain't no city to live in unemployed. I'd go back home before I went out like that. So anyway Father Gibb hooked me up good. His niece owns this store. She's kinda cute too."
"Uh-oh."
"She's like kah-POW! Oo-la-la!"
She hit his shoulder lightly. "Silly!"
"Yeah well, I gotta get back behind the counter. I'm not the manager, but I make as much as I made at Whimsies 'n' Such. So it's all good minus the headaches."
Syn hugged him again. "I'm so glad, Mack."
"Yeah. So why don't you browse around. There's more than paint and brushes here, y' know. We got just about anything you can think of to decorate a home especially up on the third floor. Check it out. I'll see ya later, k?"
"Okay."
The store directory listed 'Kitchen Crafts' on the third floor. Hmm, is it possible they had something useful like teakettles? She started up the steps. Wheat had burnt to a crisp her lovely little pink rose teakettle a month ago and she hadn't found another one like it yet...
Zan was strolling through SoHo feeling really out of wack. He needed to do the only thing that would restore the balance inside him, but he'd run out of supplies. A whole day had passed and his anger was still simmering to the point that he might tip his hand and they'd know he was onto them. He stopped in his favorite art store, Kaegan's, but they didn't have the drawing paper he used in stock, which didn't make any sense. There was a first time for everything, but this was just plain sh*tty. So Kaegan's wasn't his friggin favorite no more. He went to two other places and it was the same d*mn thing. It was like something in the cosmos had it in for him today. Zan decided to try this other place. Artislife. It always looked too phony to even consider like a McDonald's kind of art store. But if they had what he wanted...epic.
He was about two blocks away when something woke up inside him and started to get happy. He was anticipating something and didn't know what it was. Aw, d*mn, what weird alien sh*t did he have to deal with now? He wasn't ready, but he kept walking. Que sera, que sera. What will be, will be. One block away from the store the vibrations started and slowly changed into a warm pulse. He stood stock-still. Oh sh*t, his Peach Kiss was here! She was somewhere nearby. And it was daylight so he could finally see that face. Zan was annoyed by the weird fear flooding his abdomen. The closer he got to the Pee Wee Herman Playhouse of an art store, the stronger the stroke of the pulse got. He hesitated at the entrance. He was trying to be objective 'n' sh*t but it wasn't working. He was excited and not just in his mind 'cause judging by the outline of his pants, anybody looking would know. And he wasn't even thinking about getting off! He took some deep breaths and thought about making it with a wildebeest. Right on time his shaft became a dangling rope. Zan smirked and shook his head as he entered the store...