Enjoy.
PAINTED SKIES
DAY I
I look up. I see the painted sky that is always worked on. Night and day, the sky is always worked on. I look across the land and below me. I see the thousands of steel and concrete spires, the gigantic towers that millions call home. I feel those millions as they toil away at their daily chores. I feel their thoughts, I feel their emotions, I feel their dreams. They can feel mine.
An enforcement drone approaches, a collection of mechanical and organic, machine and flesh woven into a whole, no longer separate.
It asks why I have not reported back to Shadow Group. I say that I forgot. It says that I should return. I say I will and thank it.
When I return to my place of work I connect my brain to the Network. I attach myself to the restraints and place the stabilizers on me to monitor my performance and prevent my death. After the authorization process I disengage the safety and feel the pins insert themselves in key places of my brain and spine.
It is greatly painful, but soothing after the drugs are administered. I reach MindFall. The Sun winks out, the sky fades, and everything melts and dissolves. Colours appear, millions of colours. Colours I will never see in reality wash around. I feel them, soft, hard, hot, cold, warm, harsh. I feel them forever and for an instant. My soul leaves me. My body only a portion.
What I do, I don't know. My actions become automatic, operated by someone else. I feel others used as the same. I travel light years in an instant, break barriers in time. I feel life and death, see everything. I see gods and dæmons, fear my own power. I then wake up. What was like years were only hours. I feel sick. I look around and find that I had vomited about four times. I call for service drones, more bio-mech life machines, and they arrive and clean myself and everything. They leave and so do I.
Riding on the Shuttle-Train, traveling at thousands of kilometers an hour, I soon get off at my stop. The Shuttle-Train speeds away. I walk to my area, where I live. Thousands walk on the streets above, below, and where I'm at. The levels of cities surround the core sectors like shells. Billions live, and work, and play in these areas. From afar, these city sectors resemble cells of an organism.
I look up, seeing not the painted sky painted as night. I see a city, pointing downwards like a reflection of the one I am on. It is not a reflection, that is just how the bottom of that sector level is built. On there, the citizens live upside-down lives in upside-down cities. To them they live normally.
On the side of me is a level placed vertically, with buildings so that it were as if I was floating high above a city. The people on there live sideways lives in sideways cities. To them they live normally.
Lift tubes, Shuttle-Train tunnels, and support cables look like spider's webbing strands, thin and almost invisible for the most part unless looked from special angles or seen glistening in the light. They number in the thousands.
I walk always to the central markets and business district of the area. Thousands shop here. The market is made of many levels, hundreds of open-air shops line the multi-leveled streets and walkways. Most sell trinkets and toys, near-useless things and objects. Merchants bargain prices with buyers. The walking vendors, the sellers without shops, carrying all their wares with them.
One of the walking vendors walk up to me. The walking vendor is a young woman in her early to middle twenties. Her skin is almost pure white. What remained of her hair was long and short, and blacker than I have ever seen that colour. The face was thin, gentle. As was equally her mouth. Her body was small, thin, and looked near totally frail. Her breasts were smaller than most, but very beautiful. The raggy clothes that covered her small body were made herself, with what little skill of sewing she possessed. Rags of different clothes of different styles of different ages made whole of her coverings. She had the boots of a soldier. Her outfit showed the signs of wear, the signs of falling apart at the ill-made stitchings. She made attempts at repair. So far, her repairs were keeping her from being naked. But some of her beautiful, lovely skin showed through the holes and tears that needed repaired. The hands she used were small, with thin fingers that had short nails. She was grand as a goddess in her poverty.
Despite this wonderful beauty, she was horribly, and most likely permanently, disfigured. Her small beautiful body was CyberNet-ised. Enforcement cables ran from her head like dreadlocks in patches. Her eyes were doors to a stellar beauty inside. One of the eyes was infected with machines that clouded her natural sight with it. Most likely a significant portion of her brain was both machine and organic at the same time. Cables and wires wrapped around her arm and ran into her arm. Those cables and wires must have occasionally caused her great pain, so she must take pain relief medication regularly.
She spoke. Her voice was like the song of an angel, a sweet symphony of lovely sound. With this sweet softness, she asked if I would like to buy a rose. Her tired eyes were hurtful when I said no. She says that they are real roses, not the artificially grown ones in the greenhouses. Looking at her closely, I take pity and ask how much her flower is. She smiles, showing her inner strength. She says that the rose costs five credits. At first I think that this is very high for a rose. I take my credit card out of my billfold. I enter five credits into it and hand it to her. With angelic grace she takes it and slides it through her depositor. She hands it back to me and also hands me the flower. I place the rose in my satchel and thank her for it. As I walk off to home, she calls after me. I stop walking and turn around. She runs to me and embraces me, holding on to me tightly as if she would die if she let go. I feel her body, warm and cold. Through my labour suit, and her raggy clothes I feel her soft but firm breasts warmly press against me. Without thinking, I put my arms around her. When my hand touches her back she rests her head on my shoulder. As I move my hand away, it brushes against some of the Enforcement cables running down from the back of her head. I feel them expanding and contracting in rhythm, but not with each other. She slowly pulls away and tells me that I should go home now.
I continue my walk home and think. I wonder if I have seen her before. She seemed vaguely familiar. But then, everyone is vaguely familiar since working at Shadow Group. Did she once work at Shadow Group? I think about it. I realize that she did not. She has lived in the streets for her entire life.
I soon reach the apartment complex where I live. It is strange that a luxury apartment building should be located in the centre of one of the main poverty sectors. I enter the building, take one of the lifts to my floor, and walk to my apartment.
My apartment is spacious, but decorated sparingly because I have never had the time or the need to go shopping for decorations. Shadow Group pays very well, and also pays for where we live.
I shower, dress, and go to my bedroom. There I place the rose that I bought in a glass on the table near my bed. I go to bed because I am very tired. I have been very tired for the last few weeks for some reason.
I do not fall asleep right away. I never do. I think about things. I remember that Shadow Group reminded all employees not to eat anything tomorrow. I think about what I will have to do in three days when it starts to snow. It will snow, the controllers control nearly all weather. I mostly think about the Walking Vendor Girl. She is the main concern of my thoughts for some reason. I soon fall asleep, a sleep filled with the horrid nightmares I have had every night since I started working at Shadow Group. I don't like nightmares.
DAY II
I wake up the next morning very early as usual. I look out the window above the head of my bed. It is raining. I am upset and happy at once. I am upset because I did not want it to rain today. I am happy because this means that there will be almost no foot-traffic today.
I shower and dress in my bathroom. I then go down the small set of stairs to the main level to search for my water coat. I soon find my water coat, a simple, very large vinyl grey coat. I put it on and lock up my home. I take the lift down to the lobby and leave the building.
I run quickly across the market, causing tremendous splashes in the puddles of water. The splashes of water spray outward, and cascade downward back to the ground. I run to the Shuttle-Train station. As I board the Shuttle-Train, I slide my pass through the checkpoint. The Pressurized doors hiss shut behind me. The Shuttle-Train starts to move, going very fast. I find a seat and watch as the scenery runs by at thousands of kilometers an hour. A young newlywed couple nearby has an argument. He says that he sees nothing wrong with having sex in the shower. She thinks it's vulgar, almost like rape. Strangely, they are speaking quite loudly, so that nearly everyone in the car could hear them if it was full. They continue, and I ignore them and their odd argument.
The Shuttle-Train reaches my destination shortly. I get off and the Shuttle-Train speeds away. It is now raining harder then before, the raindrops hit nearby surfaces with great force, creating large rings of water and displacement. There is no thunder and lightning. There is never any thunder and lightning. I wonder what thunder and lightning is and what it does.
I then realize that that I have been standing in the hard, pouring rain for several moments. I quickly run into the Shadow Group building.
As I enter the main lobby, I shake the water off my water coat. I hand my ident card to the security guard. He cross-references this and hands the card back to me. I walk down several grey metal hallways and say hello to my fellow employees. We all greet each other in a friendly manner, even though no one really knows each other very well. Most of us do not even know each other's names.
I reach my work place, a Network Server Port. I enter the room and see that there is a Technician wearing a white and yellow jumpsuit working on my Network Server Port. I ask him what he is doing. He replies that he is upgrading my Network Server Port because his supervisor told him to. I tell him that my Network Server Port is fine as it is. I am becoming very upset because I don't like other people doing things to my belongings, even though the Network Server Port is not really mine, it belongs to Shadow Group Overseers. It has also caused me extraordinary pain every day for the last five years, so that is another reason why it is odd that I am so possessive over it. The Technician says that he has to do whatever his supervisor tells him. I ask him what it is. He says that he doesn't know, he just installs the damn things. I watch him as he works, seeing his attention to detail and perfection. He is soon finished and leaves. I walk over to the Network Server Port and prepare to connect. I then connect to the Network. I then find out what the new device that the Technician installed is. As soon as I reach MindFall the device wraps around my face. It runs under my eyelids with cords made of both metal and flesh. The cords wind around my eyes, covering the entire surfaces. They go inside, they enter my eyes themselves. The pain I receive from it is almost unbearable. I scream, but it is shortly cut off by the electronic gibberish that occurs when one tries to speak when connected to the Network.
The pain slowly dies away, naturally. I see many more colours that I have never seen in reality that I have never seen before. I feel myself moving faster then before. I hear what seems like distant voices and music and sounds. I hear them, as if they number in the millions. They build up and then suddenly stop. I am above the world. I look down and see not just a portion of the surface as one normally would: I see the entire surface, like a map. I see the Sectoral Cellular Cities that nearly cover the whole surface. I can see the bare land and water that appear as pinholes from below the Cities. I then see everyone on the world in an instant, all at once. I start falling towards the surface. Before I hit, I black out. I do not remember what occurs next. I don't believe I was even fully conscious.
When the mid-day lunch break happens, I disconnect from the Network. We will not be eating, but we are still allowed our one hour break. I discover that during my service time I had ejaculated. This is surprising to me, as it has rarely ever happened. I walk out, putting on my water coat, both to hide my little incident and to keep me warm. For some reason it has been slightly cold at Shadow Group recently.
Instead of taking the Shuttle-Train to the main sector of the city, I decide to visit the Shadow Group Medical Examiner. The Medical Examiner tells me to tell him what is wrong. I tell him about the frequent vomiting I have been experiencing of lately. He tells me that it is normal. I then tell him about the nightmares I have been having. He thinks that it is quite strange, since everyone else stops having the nightmares after about two weeks. He tells me that he will look into it. When I mention the ejaculation that I had today, he does not say anything for a moment. When he does speak, he says that I must be experiencing sexual tension of some kind. He says that I must be preoccupied in subconscious sexual thoughts. I must be thinking about that Walking Vendor Girl. She must be the centre of my subconscious concentration. I do not mention this to the Medical Examiner. I thank him for his services and leave to go back to work.
When I connect to the Network, there is less, and then no pain. The drug administers must have needed time to adjust to the new device. There is more of senses of being everywhere and traveling without moving at all. When I prepare to leave, I again find that I have ejaculated. I put on my water coat and leave.
I ride on the Shuttle-Train. The Shuttle-Train is traveling slower then usual, because of repairs that have been made. The Shuttle-Trains will be traveling at slower speeds until it is safe to go at regular speeds. The cars are more full then earlier this morning. Everyone is eager to get to their homes. I am eager to get home so I can eat my evening meal. A little girl, about seven, runs down the aisle. She is wearing a patterned dress, like the ones worn for uniforms at the more privileged schools. A woman, about thirty I think, runs after her. Her mother. She wears a business suit of a type that many women are wearing, much like the ones for men. She calls for her, telling her that nice girls don't run. The woman eventually catches up to the girl and carries her back to their seats. The girl yells in protest at first, but then calms down. I look out of the window next to me, but the view is obscured by the pouring rain. I decide to sleep for the rest of the trip.
When the Shuttle-Train reaches the stop where I get off near where I live. I get off and walk to the market, since the rain has now lightened up somewhat. I have to see if I can find her.
The market is full of people, but not crowded. The more permanent shops and regular stores have their rain canopies open, allowing for people to venture outside without getting very wet. Many of the stores' lights are on, creating a firefly field out of the near darkness of the market.
I start my search. My heart starts to race. I really don't know why I am so concerned about this girl or so determined to find her. I just know that I must. It is like an animal instinct. I look at every face I see, looking some kind of recognition. For a long time I cannot find her.
In the corner of my eye, I see something. I turn and look. Next to a store wall, there she is. I run to her. When I reach her, I see the condition she is in. Her raggy skirt has a large tear stitched heavily with thick black thread, and clings to her thin legs wetly. The shirt she has is equally wet and clinging, revealing that she is more thin then I thought. Her most striking feature now is her hair. The hair that was longer yesterday has since been cut, now making her hair all about the same length, a short mop like a young boy or tomboyish girl. The wet black strands lay flat, sticking out in small tufts in two or three places. At the back of her head, the cables shortly stick out, then run down her back, flexing in rhythm. She holds herself with her arms, desperately trying to stay warm. She is shivering.
She looks up, first startled to see me. A weak smile appears on her face.
"I knew you would come." She says with her angel's song voice.
"I need to help you." I say. "Let's get you some things." I hold out my hand to her. She reaches out and puts her hand in mine. She stands and we walk together, her now holding to me under the protection of my water coat.
We find the right kind of store. We enter and I buy two things: a very large towel and a long thin umbrella, coloured red. I give these to her. She uses the towel to quickly dry her short hair. She then wraps the towel around her like a blanket.
"Your hair is shorter then before." I say to her.
"I had to cut it." She says. "People were pulling on the longer bits. They think they can treat us however they want just because we live in the streets."
"Some can be so cruel to others." I reply.
"You're not." She turns her head to face me, smiling. "You didn't have to buy these. But I thank you for it."
We stay in the store for some time. She sits near the portable heater in the corner. I look at books about improving one's self-esteem.
She walks up to me holds on for a moment. I look down at her.
"I'm pretty dry now." She says. "We can go."
We leave and she opens the red umbrella. It is large enough for both of us to be under it. She continues to hold on to me, under my water coat to keep warm and dry. Her eyes are closed and she has a weak but warm smile. I gaze at her, her subtle grace. She opens her eyes, looking into mine. She tightens her hold on me. I don't want her to stay out in the rainy streets, where she might freeze to death.
"Why don't you come home with me." I say, not thinking beforehand.
She closes her eyes and lowers her head, still with her wondrous smile. "Alright." She says. "I just need to get my things from where I'm staying."
We now start to run. She has let go of me and now leads me, holding onto my arm. I hold the umbrella, trying to keep us both covered. She and I start getting wet, her more than me. She has a happy smile, and even laughs once or twice as we run in the rain. She is happy, maybe for one of the few times in her life.
Soon we reach the place where she has been staying. Down an alleyway is what is like a small courtyard surrounded by buildings. In the courtyard are more than two dozen street dwellers. They are as raggy and even more than she is. Some have even been CyberNet-ised, one with his jaw missing. Boxes, crates, and tents line the circle, garbage and old newspapers everywhere. In the centre of the circle is a rain canopy suspended over four posts. Beneath this is a large fire. Several of the street dwellers huddle around it.
She lets go of my hand and turns to face me. "You stay here." She gracefully says. "I'll be back very soon." She runs over to one of the tents. As I wait, many of the other street dwellers watch me with distrustful stares. The man with the missing jaw walks up to me. When he gets closer to me, I see that not only is he missing his jaw, he also has no eyes. Instead, lenses, like those of a camera are what he possesses. He reaches his arm out, pushes me lightly, and then walks off. She comes away from her tent, carrying an average sized sack made of leather. The jawless man with the lenses for eyes stops her when she passes him. They start to speak to each other. They are too far away to hear what they are saying. I can hear the sound of her voice, but when he speaks, I cannot hear any sound. She then curtsies and walks up to me. She is as wet as when I found her earlier.
"Let's go now." She says. I hold the red umbrella over her so she will not get even more wet. "Quickly. I want to see where you live."
"Who is that you were talking to?" I ask. I glance up and see him watching us, but mostly me. "He pushed me."
"He is the leader." She says as we walk away, now towards my apartment building. "He pushed you because he wanted you to stay where you were, not to enter the circle. That's all." I think that I may have helped save her life, even if it was just rescuing her from continuing to live like this. Even if just temporarily.
We enter my apartment building, in the rain and darkness becomes black and foreboding. As we cross the brightly-lit lobby, rainwater drips from her hair, skin, and clothes, creating a trail of water drops that now have her sweet scent, like roses.
When we enter the lift I press the button for my floor. She and I watch the numbers above the door climb slowly to the desired floor.
"What is your name?" She asks. I look over to her. We do not even know who the other is. I take a slow breath.
"Linol Freeman." I say. She smiles and goes over to me. "What is yours?" I ask as she rests her head on my shoulder. She is still very wet.
"Alexandria." She says softly, almost silently. She lowers her head, her eyes closed. "That is my only name." I place my arm around her thin waist, drawing her closer.
"Your name is very beautiful." I say. She looks up at me, her eyes gazing into mine. She smiles weakly. "I've never heard that name until now." I add, which is very true.
The lift slows to a stop and open with a tone sounding. We walk out of the lift and down the hall, now holding hands. She is holding mine very tightly. She is breathing gently.
We reach the door to my apartment. I unlock it and she enters before me. I shut and lock the door, watching her and her gorgeous simpleness. She is looking around.
"All this and only you live here?" She asks. She sets the leather bag and the red umbrella on the table where I eat.
"Yes, I'm alone." I say, hanging my water coat on a small metal hook in the front room. She turns to face me, with a look of pity set deep in her eyes. I think that she might start crying, because of her feelings toward me and my situation.
"You don't have to be alone anymore if you don't want to." She says after a moment. She starts to shiver lightly. I notice and walk to her.
"I think what would help most is a bath." I say. "The master bathroom is this way." I lead her up to the stairway and through my bedroom. The door opens automatically and we enter.
She walks over to the smaller bath. Sitting down at the small nearby bench, she leans to her left, against the side of the bath and with her arm dangling into it.
"I don't know how to work these." She says. "Could you please start it?" I say yes and walk over to the opposite end. I operate the controls, choosing the best temperature for her. The warm water flows down from the faucet, like a downwards geyser. I look over at her from my kneeling position, from across the length of bath. She watches the water rise slowly. With her right hand she starts to unhook the clasps of her shirt. Her hand reaches the last clasp, and the left side of her shirt falls downwards, like a curtain hung at only one side. This also exposes her left breast. The splendor of it and her beautiful skin distract me, grabbing hold of all my conscious thought and attention for a small fraction of a second, which to me is eternity for a moment. I regain my reasoning and look away, deciding to centre my concentration on her equally, and at the same time, more wondrous face. She looks at me from the corner of her eyes with a smile of humour on her face and deep in her eyes.
"It's alright if you looked." She says warmly. "I don't mind." She pulls the fallen part of her shirt, adjusting it so that her breast is no longer showing. Now only a thin line from her neck to her waist. "Would you mind to stay here and keep me company while I bathe?" She asks. I think for a moment. It could be an invasion of her privacy. But she must not be concerned about that to ask in the first place. I take a deep breath, clearing my thoughts to get a clear answer out.
"No, I'd love to." I answer, being completely truthful with her. The water is soon at the desired height and I shut it off. She stands and faces the bath, watching the surface of the water.
"I'm going to undress now." She says. "It would be good for me if you left the room."
"Yes." I answer. "Would you like something to drink when I return?" I ask, speaking softly and with calmness.
"Thank you." She says. "Could you also bring that bag of mine? It has some things I'll need." I say yes and walk towards the door. I look back for a moment as I pass through the doorway. With her back turned to me, she removes her shirt. Her lovely pale white skin has some colour returning to it. She is very thin, but not enough to be ill. The door closes behind be as she starts undoing her skirt.
I walk briskly down the stairway, I don't want to keep her waiting. In the dining area I pick up the leather bag off the table. It is slightly heavier than I thought it was. I then walk over to the room service vendor on the wall. I select a bottle of wine, one of the best, with a warm flavour and little alcohol. I purchase two glasses and slide my card through the slot. In ten seconds a tray with a bottle and two glasses emerges from the little doors in front of me. I take the tray and walk back up the stairway. I am eager to return. I have never been so eager for anything before.
I enter the bathroom. Because the small bath is inside an indentation of the wall, I cannot see her. There is silence. I decide to interrupt this silence.
"Alexandria?" I ask, hoping for an answer that would obviously come, but I am still worried.
"I'm in." She says, her voice affected by the angles of the room. "Come sit on the bench near my side." I walk forward and turn to face the bath. She sits in the bath, the water level crosses her small lovely breasts. She has her knees pressing against them, and her arms around her legs, much like a fetal position. Her head rests on her knees. She watches the water in front of her.
I sit on the bench near her, she looks over and watches while I open the bottle and fill both glasses with the wine that I hope she will enjoy. I hand her glass to her and then take mine.
"Thank you." She says softly. She brings the glass to her lips, taking a small sip. "This is good. I've never had anything like this."
"I'm happy that you enjoy it." I say. I sit and watch her for a moment. She is so beautiful right now, just sitting in the bath drinking wine. She soon finishes her glass. "Would you like some more?" I ask.
"Not right now." She says. "I'll have some more when I eat." She gives her empty glass to me and I set it on the tray. For some time there is silence. Then she finally speaks, breaking it. "I love you." She says. I think for a moment, before answering.
"I love you, too." I say. I mean it in the greatest sincerity. "Since yesterday you're all I could think about. I'm glad I found you."
"I'm lucky you found me." She says. "I couldn't go back to the Circle until I sold enough. But tonight it was too cold for me to sell flowers. The rain just made it worse, because no one buys flowers from a wet girl wearing rags. I might have had to sleep in the streets. I could have died tonight. You saved my life, I can never repay you." I give her a small smile. I am deeply touched by her feelings and how she contributes me with saving her.
"You're repaying me by staying here." I say. "You can stay as long as you want. It wouldn't cost me much more than I already spend."
"I want to stay here." She says in her angelic song way. "Do you think you could wash my hair?" I'd really appreciate it."
"Yes, I will." I say. I stand up and get a container so I can rinse her hair as I wash it.
"In my bag is a bottle of soap you can use." She says. "Don't use much, only a little." I open the leather bag that is hers. I find the bottle. It is an average sized bottle with a soft pink gel. I return to the side of the bath, now much closer then I was before. Right next to her.
"Are there any special directions?" I ask. I open the bottle and can smell a faint fragrance. Roses. It smells like her.
"Lather, rinse, then rinse with cold water." She says, facing me. She seems almost like a child, the way she sits in the bath. So innocent and vulnerable. I roll up the sleeves of my labour suit so I don't get it wet. I dip the container into the bath, filling it with water. I dump this over her head, so her hair will be properly wet. The water flows down on her skin watery explosions and cascades. Her eyes are closed, on her face is serenity. She is in peace, she is now safe. I let a little of the soap out of the bottle and into my palm. I reach over with both hands, into her hair, each strand as long as my middle finger. The soap mixes with her hair, creating a cloud of liquid foam on her head. My hands slowly travel into and around the foam, intertwining with the strands, massaging the soap into them. On her face is that peaceful expression, a smile of tranquility. Her head gently jerks in the actions of my hands.
I continue washing her hair for some time. I decide that it is clean enough and fill the container with water. I pour the water over her head, causing the lather of soap to run down her skin and into the water of the bath. I fill and empty the container this way three times. I go over to the other side of the bath and fill the container full of cold water, like she said. I sit back at the little bench next to her and pour the cold water over her head. She reacts much like anyone would, she flinches and I hear her speak a sound of shock, almost a small and quick shout. She turns and smiles warmly at me.
"Thank you." She says softly, almost a sigh. "I can do the rest myself." She reaches over to the side with the wall, taking a new bar of soap that I bought for decoration. She lowers her legs so that they are now parallel with the length of the bath. They disappear in the soapy water. Her breasts are now exposed, they display her great beauty. I avert my eyes from their sight. She notices my action. "I said you can look if you want to. I just don't like being seen while I'm removing my clothes. That is the only time that you cannot see me." I nod and watch her. She starts by washing her arms, holding one out in front of her, straight out. She soaps up her upper arm, and then moves her lower arm to a right angle in front of her to cover it with soap. She then repeated this with the other arm. She washes her chest, gliding the soap quickly over her breasts. She reaches behind and washes her shoulders and upper back. She then washes her lower back. She raises one leg out of the water, lathering it and bending her knee to reach her lower leg. She repeats with her other leg. She finishes by washing her stomach and what is lower. Then she rids her skin of the soap by using the container to wash it away. She is now clean. She is as beautiful as she was before, only cleaner and with more colour to her skin. "I'm ready to come out now." She says, finally.
I stand up and get a robe and towel from the small closet in the opposite wall. She stands. I stop for a moment, stunned by her glorious, almost sacred enchantment. I hand her the robe. She puts it on and ties the belt at the waist. It is loose and baggy on her thin form. I give the towel to her and she starts to dry her hair.
"Why don't you go start our dinner while I dry off and change." She says, smiling. "I'll be right out."
"Alright." I say, picking up the tray with the bottle of wine and two glasses. I walk out of the bathroom, through my bedroom, down the stairway, and into the kitchen.
In the kitchen I set the tray with the wine on the counter. I think that the counter, with the two wooden and metal chairs with long legs will be perfect for us to dine at. I in the kitchen, she in the bathroom changing. I want to give her a good meal. I want to please her more than I have so far. I turn on the radio tuner to the station that plays soft classical music. The music I listen to when I'm preparing food and eating. From the room service vendor I choose the best meal I can find: seasoned chicken with a light sauce, rice, and a small bread roll. I pay for the meals and they arrive in about twenty seconds. They are in sectioned metal plates with plastic covering over them. I place these in the oven, checking the directions for cooking time of the meals. They will be done in two minutes. Out of a drawer I get two forks and two knives. I set these at the proper places on the counter. Off from the tray I fill the two glasses with wine. I look around, now just noticing that I am in almost total darkness. Night comes fast when it is almost winter. I turn on the lights over the counter and in certain areas of the other rooms, so that it is not too bright.
The oven dings. I walk over to it and remove the two plates, now with fresh hot meals in them. I put them at the two settings that are waiting for their occupants. I roll my sleeves down, forgetting that they were like that. I wait. Everything is perfect. Perfect for her.
I hear the door of the bathroom open and close. She appears at the top of the stairway. As she walks down the stairway, I see that she is wearing a modest white full-length dress. It is sleeveless. She is barefoot. She carries her soldier's boots at her side. I see that they have no laces, they have string tied around their sides to keep them on her feet when she wears them. She is at the bottom of the stairway, and she sets the boots down with a gentle grace that only makes me adore her more. She walks up to me, now only a few inches away. Slowly, she embraces me, and I embrace her. Our eyes look deep into each other. She comes closer, and presses her lips to mine. We hold this kiss for some time, I don't know how long. She breaks it now, pulling away slowly. She walks over to the counter and sits down on the high-legged chair on the right. I sit at the one on the left, next to her. Her hair is now dry, laying flat and somewhat sticking outward, looking much like a small child, except for her feminine beauty. I notice the way she sits, with her legs wrapped around the thin metal front legs of the chair. I sit with my feet perched up on the bar crossing the legs about halfway down.
I remove the plastic coverings from our plates and throw them into the nearby waste basket. Steam rises from our food like smoke from a fire, except that it is steam, not smoke and that there is no fire. She looks at her food, slightly puzzled about it. She is also afraid to ask me what it is.
"Don't worry, it's chicken." I tell her. "I've had it before, it's very good." She looks at me and smiles weakly. She takes her fork and knife, cuts off a small piece, and tastes it, chewing slowly. She swallows.
"It is good, thank you." She says, now with a warm gentle smile. She reaches for her glass, slowly taking a sip of wine. We both start to eat. "I like the music." She says, after some time. "Most of the music I've heard is the stuff played by the merchants in the market." I nod and we continue eating.
"Do you have any other clothes?" I ask. So far, I've only seen her raggy clothes and the white dress she wears now.
"No." She says with her mouth half full of rice. "Other than a few pairs of underwear, I have nothing else." She swallows her rice and takes another bite of chicken.
"Tomorrow I have a short work day because it's a weekend." I say, tearing my bread roll apart. I eat the smaller half. "We can go shopping that afternoon and buy you some new clothes." She smiles and laughs softly to herself.
"Thank you." She says. We continue and soon finish eating. The bottle of wine is about half full. I stand up and push our plates down the recycler duct, to be washed and reused. I place the utensils in the cleaner, along with the glasses. The half-full bottle of wine is set in the refrigerator. I look at my chronograph on my wrist. It is now 22.17, very late. I walk up behind her and set my hands on her shoulders.
"Alexandria, it's very late." I say. "We should go to sleep now." She reaches with her right hand over to her left shoulder, putting her hand over mine.
"Alright." She sighs. She stands and we both walk up the stairway to my bedroom. The lights and music turn off. There is silence.
We enter my bedroom. I open the blinds in front of the glass door and walls leading to the balcony. The rain continues to fall. The room now has changed from being totally dark, to being lit by the darkness outside. On the floor, wall, and ceiling is the light from the dark outside. The rain falls, creating drops on the glass that become magnified on the surfaces inside, making light patters and effects. She sits on the bed, and notices the rose that I bought from her, standing in large drinking glass half filled with water, sitting on the table nearby. She reaches out and touches the rose, causing it to bob up and down. I open my small set of drawers and remove a simple shirt and a pair of thin, loose pants. I walk across the room.
"I will be right back." I say. "I'm going to change in the bathroom." I walk into the bathroom and the door closes behind me.
I remove my labour suit and put on my sleepwear. I look at my reflection in the mirror above the sink as I clean my teeth. I have a very thin face, with high prominent cheekbones. My mouth and teeth are average. My dark eyes are somewhat deep-set. My hair is very short, around an inch and a half long, and sticks out on end and slightly in other directions. The skin is scarred, from many diseases and injuries as a child. I am average, she is grand. I finish and walk back into the bedroom.
I enter the bedroom. She still sits on my bed, now turned to face me. I walk over to the door, the one that leads to the rest of the house.
"You can sleep in my bed." I say. "I'll sleep downstairs."
"No, stay." She says. She reaches her arm out to me and then draws it back to herself. She has an almost fearful look on her face. "You can sleep here with me. I want you to stay." Tears are starting to build up in her eyes. She is very close to crying. I walk over and sit next to her on the bed. I hold her, she rests her head on my shoulder. "Please stay with me." She whispers. She starts to cry, silently.
"I'll stay." I say. "Don't cry. You don't have to be afraid anymore." She stops and embraces me. When we each other, she has a weak but relieved smile.
We get into the bed, under the covers. She takes the left side and I take the right. She is asleep very soon, lying on her back. I am still awake, lying on my side, watching her sleep. When asleep she is more beautiful than when awake, with a peaceful expression and her eyes closed. Her hands folded over her stomach, moving up and down slowly when she breathes. She breathes slowly, with a small trace of her angelic voice heard.
I slowly fall to sleep, watching her sleep. The sound of the rain falling outside, like thousands of small footsteps, adds to the peaceful setting. When I am asleep, there are no nightmares. There are no dreams, but still no nightmares. For the first night in five years I sleep without one horrible dream. It is her. She has made my mind at peace. And I have saved her from the only life she ever knew. We continue to sleep.
The End
