by Lynn Ames
“I hope that’s soon. I keep turning my phone on but I’m not getting anything. All I’m managing to do is run my battery down.”
“My battery is full, so I’ll turn my phone off to save it. We don’t know how long this will last, so we’d better conserve.”
“We’re not in the third world,” Laurie laughed. “They’ll have this fixed in no time.”
“I hope you’re right, but I wouldn’t count on it. I heard some people saying that the blackout is covering the whole Northeast. If that’s true, this could go on for quite a while.”
“No way. They’ve got some plan in place to make sure we’ll get power. This is the twenty-first century.”
“Uhm-hmm,” Taj said, nodding while maintaining her sardonic grin.
***
“Who has the best sushi in town?” Taj asked. They’d passed four subway stations, each closed, and had given directions and advice to at least forty people during the amble.
“Mmm, probably Hiro. It’s not very far from here, but I’ve never eaten there. It’s far too expensive for me.”
Teasingly, Taj said, “An author with…what…thirty titles? You must be flush.”
“I do all right, but I’m not rich enough to eat at Hiro. I think their omakase menu is three hundred bucks.”
“Not tonight it’s not,” Taj said confidently.
***
Laurie stood near the entrance of the very high end Japanese restaurant watching Taj work her magic. The bits Laurie heard were persuasive, but she was confident that it was the way Taj presented herself and her arguments that carried the day. After a good five minutes of negotiation they were shown to a table. The manager stood there for a moment and said, “I can’t offer our traditional service because most of our waiters went home, but we’ll do our best.”
“We’ll take whatever you have. There isn’t anything I won’t eat,” Taj assured him.
He gazed at her suspiciously for a moment then left to head for the kitchen. “I’m not as adventurous as you are,” Laurie said. “There are lots of things I won’t eat.”
“Then there’s more for me. Don’t worry, we’ll eat well tonight.”
“How will we afford it?”
“We struck a deal. If the power comes back on, we’ll pay half of the usual. If it doesn’t, it’s free.”
“Free?”
“That’s why I wanted to come for sushi. Everything will be spoiled by tomorrow, so they have to move it or throw it out. I’m pretty confident that the power isn’t coming back on anytime soon, but even if it does I figured it would be worth a hundred and fifty dollars if the food is really extraordinary.”
Grinning, Laurie said, “I think you might be a spendthrift.”
“No, but I am a gambler.”
***
By nine thirty the restaurant was half full. The manager had offered Taj’s deal to anyone who’d come, and people were happy to be there, even though the room was now hot and stuffy. The sake was still cold, and they had a couple of glasses along with their fantastic food. The chefs had done a masterful job preparing everything they had in their walk-in cooler and the freezer. Laurie had sampled things she’d never heard of, much less tried, and even though some of it was a little exotic for her, she managed to keep up with Taj bite for bite.
It was eleven thirty when they were finally too stuffed to eat another bite. The manager assured them that the restaurant’s insurance would cover the cost of the food, so they ignored their guilt at having eaten hundreds of dollars of sushi, but left the majority of their cash for tips. They walked out into the still steaming night, with ten dollars between them. “Want to try to hitchhike to Brooklyn?” Laurie asked.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Brooklyn is closer than Riverdale, isn’t it?”
“I think so, but don’t quote me. I’ve lived almost every place in the New York area but I’m not great at measuring distances.”
They started to walk again, the sidewalks still jammed with people. Traffic had hardly moved, and people looked less happy and more harried. “First worlders don’t take well to discomfort,” Taj said. “It makes them question all of their assumptions about being in control.”
“Very philosophical. I’ve got my own Margaret Mead.”
Raising an eyebrow, Taj said, “Did that offend you?”
Laurie surprised herself by saying, “Yeah. It did a little bit.”
“I’m sorry. I was just making an observation, but I should have kept it to myself.”
“No, I don’t want you to do that. You’re a very interesting person, and I want to hear what you have to say even when you are making fun of me and my ilk.”
“I’m not making fun of you at all. We’re all products of our environment. If a guy from the Taliban saw the dress you’re wearing, he’d probably stab you.” She grinned. “I think he’d be making a very big mistake because you look fantastic, but he wouldn’t see it that way.”
“I think there was a compliment in there. If there was, thank you.”
“There was definitely a compliment. You really look lovely. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a woman’s…legs,” she said, her eyes fixed considerably higher on Laurie’s body.
“How long have you been in New York?”
“I just got in yesterday. I’d been to see my agent in Soho, and I stopped in the bookstore to see if they had my new book. I don’t get to see my stuff in bookstores very often. It’s a treat.”
“The circumstances aren’t ideal, but I’m really glad you were there. Are you any good at hitchhiking?”
“My family has never owned a car, a scooter or a bicycle. I think I’ve hitchhiked ten times more than I’ve bought a train ticket.”
“I don’t know about anybody else, but I feel very, very lucky tonight. I couldn’t have picked a better companion to travel with.”
***
They tried for almost an hour, but no one would consider giving them a ride across the bridge. They discussed walking across along with thousands of others, but Laurie thought there were safer places to sleep in Manhattan than there would be if they couldn’t make it all the way to Park Slope.
They walked over to West Side Highway, trying to get a breeze from the river. They weren’t successful, and the noise from the traffic was even worse than it had been downtown. But there was something nice about walking near the river with only the lights of furious drivers to illuminate the night. “How is your hand?” Taj gently lifted Laurie’s right hand and tried to get a good look at it.
“It’s fine.” She was tempted to pull it away, feeling embarrassed about punching a car window when the solo driver wouldn’t make eye contact, but it felt nice to have Taj’s hand hold hers. “I thought people would be more generous. We were really nice to each other after the attacks.”
“People are still being nice. I haven’t seen any rioting, and that’s what I would expect in a city of this size.”
“I guess you’re right. And people are talking to each other more than normal.”
“Absolutely true. We’ve gotten a lot of information from people on the street. It’s all been bad,” Taj admitted, “but people are really interacting.”
“It’s hard to believe that there isn’t one form of public transportation working. I thought you’d be able to get home on Metro-North. Doesn’t it run on diesel?”
“I thought it did, but that guy we talked to said he was certain none of the trains were running. I guess we could walk over to Grand Central and check…”
“It’s only a couple of miles, but I feel like I’m gonna drop. I’d love to sit down and rest my barking dogs.”
“Those sandals are cute, but they’ve got to be pinching by now.”
“They were pinching when we were still at the bookstore. If I knew you better I’d be whining.”
“You don’t seem like the type. As a matter of fact, I can’t begin to figure out why you’re single.”
“Yet another compliment. Keep them
coming.” She smiled and squeezed Taj’s hand. “I’ve only been single for a year. Before that I was in a relationship for over five years.”
“What happened?”
“My girlfriend decided that she wanted to have a baby. I’m leery about getting a goldfish. Too much responsibility,” she said, grinning. “To be honest, having her break up with me wasn’t the worst thing.”
“How come?”
“I’m still not sure. We got along fine, but…it was all too…predictable?”
“Is that a question?”
Taj smiled, the look so attractive that Laurie’s breath caught for a second. There was a pause, then she realized she was supposed to answer. “Oh! No, I guess I know the reason. I might be a little embarrassed about it.”
“Come on.” Taj’s voice was low and teasing. “Don’t hold out on me.”
Laurie sighed. “Okay. She didn’t challenge me. That’s probably not the best reason in the world to break up, but it’s all I’ve got. Life got boring.”
“That would be enough for me. More than enough. Maybe that’s why I’m single too.”
“What’s been your longest relationship?”
“For a full-time girlfriend? Six months. But I had a long-distance relationship that tortured me for almost three years.”
“Six months? That’s—”
“Embarrassingly short. Even more embarrassing is the fact that I was fourteen when it happened.”
***
They made it to Christopher Street, to Pier 45, in the far West Village. The pier was under construction, part of the reclaiming of the Hudson for a park that would span the length of Manhattan. They found a bermed area where Laurie could put her yoga mat on the dirt and sit with some back support. Taj took a rain poncho from her pack and stretched it out next to her. They sat watching a few boats plying the dark water.
“Tell me all about this adolescent love affair,” Laurie said. “I barely knew what sex was when I was fourteen.”
Taj lay on her side and supported her head with her hand. “I didn’t know much. We were in the Kalahari, doing a book on the !Kung San in Namibia, and I came down with a lung infection.”
Laurie’s eyes grew wide. “That sounds serious.”
“Yeah, it could have been. A lot of that tribe’s people die from lung problems. They don’t have any antibiotics or modern medicines, and the desert winds can force a lot of nasty stuff into your lungs. But we used our first world privilege, and my parents got me transported to Gaborone in Botswana. They went back as soon as it was clear that I was going to be all right.”
“They left you?” Laurie’s tone showed how amazed she was.
“Yeah, but that was fine. There was a school run by missionaries, and a lot of the staff spoke English. My parents were only half done with the book we were working on, and they didn’t think it was wise to take me back there and risk getting another infection.”
“But they left you,” Laurie said again, her voice softer this time.
“I was a very independent kid. I didn’t mind at all.” She took Laurie’s hand and squeezed it. “Really.”
“You stayed with a bunch of missionaries?”
“Yeah. It was fun. I didn’t speak the local language, so I couldn’t be in a regular class, but I sat in on math class. It was cool to go to a real school.”
“You’d never been to school?”
“Nope. I was home schooled, but my parents didn’t follow a curriculum or anything. They just taught me things as they came up.”
“Wow. That’s remarkable. Did you go to college?”
“Oh, no. I don’t even have a high school diploma. My parents were in their anti-government period when I was in my teens, and they didn’t conform with any of the rules for home education. I think they feel bad about it now, but I guess I could talk my way into a college if I wanted to go. But I’ve never felt the need.”
“Now that’s remarkable.” She looked at Taj’s placid expression. “Come on, you’ve got to admit that’s rare.”
“Yeah, I guess it is. I didn’t generally care that I’d never been to school, but I definitely wanted to stay in the missionary school, especially when I met Rebecca, the daughter of the people who ran the mission.” Laurie could see her eyes twinkle even in the very faint light of the moon. “I was in love in no time at all.”
“Cool. Coming out stories. My favorite thing. Did this girl feel the same way?”
“Yep. Only problem was that she wasn’t a girl. She was twenty-two.”
“And you were fourteen?” Laurie squawked. “That’s a crime!”
“Yeah, I suppose it was. But she was no older than I was emotionally. She’d lived in Botswana her whole life and the only books she read were religious. They didn’t have TV, and they didn’t go to the movies or anything. They were very simple people.”
“Still…”
“Yeah, my parents were none too happy. They came to get me after about seven or eight months, and I immediately told them that I’d fallen in love. I honestly had no idea that it would upset them.”
“Oh, you poor naïve thing. What were they most upset about?”
“The age difference. Definitely the age difference. They packed me up and we left the next day. We went all the way to North Korea, with me crying the whole time. I’m still sure that was a wild goose chase.” She chuckled softly. “I was very dramatic about being separated from Rebecca, but they held their ground. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized they were only trying to protect me. We had a tough month or two in North Korea, then we went to Burma which had its own challenges.” She smiled, then added, “Do you know Burma?”
“No, I’m not sure I could find it on a map. Why’s it tough?”
“It’s a kingdom and the royal family was pretty much in charge in those days. It was hard to get in and even harder to interact with ordinary Burmese. We wasted a whole year there and never got enough material for a book. But that’s when I started really pursuing my interest in photography, so it wasn’t a total waste. When all you have is a camera and hours to kill, you can get pretty good at composing pictures.”
“Were you being held against your will?”
“No, we wanted to be there. At least, my parents did. I wanted to be in Botswana with Rebecca. The authorities just kept us wrapped up in red tape for months on end. They want you to go with an official tour group, but we didn’t want to do that. As I said, my parents were in a very confrontational mood in those days, and they were as hardheaded as the Burmese authorities were. I just wanted to go somewhere. I almost died of boredom.”
“Damn. That sounds horrible. Especially for a fourteen-year-old.”
“It wasn’t too bad. Of course, that’s from my perspective today. I’m sure I felt different about it then.”
“You seem very…tranquil. You have an inner peace that I find appealing.”
“Maybe it’s from being in India for so many years. I find Indians more accepting of their circumstances than most. At least the people in the areas we worked in were. The people in the cities might be different.”
“Are you Indian?”
“I have an Indian passport and an Indian name, but my ethnicity is”—she paused—“complicated. I’m a mongrel, to be honest. I met a guy who worked for a firm that did DNA typing, and he tested me. I had just about everything—except for South Asian. So, even though I can pass for and have an Indian name, that’s one of the things I’m not.” She gave Laurie a happy grin. “I’ve got some genes from Bedouin people. Maybe that’s why I need to move around.”
“Whatever you are, it’s a very nice combo.” Laurie put her hand on Taj’s bare arm. “You have the most amazing skin tone. It’s truly beautiful.”
“I like my color. I’m much darker than either of my parents. My mom’s father is from Puerto Rico and we think he’s African, Taino, and a little Spanish. I think my skin got a good dose of the African genes.”
“It’s lovely.” She gently stroked
her skin, amazed at its softness. “This is the smoothest skin I’ve ever felt.”
“Thanks.” Taj’s dark eyes followed Laurie’s hand, avidly watching it move across her skin. “The woman I had the long-distance relationship with was Scottish. She was as pale as milk. I loved the way our skin looked when we were lying next to one another. We hardly looked like the same type of animal.”
“Do you miss her?” Laurie asked, extending her touch to Taj’s shoulder, then down to her hand.
“Sure. We got along really well and we were very attracted to each other. But she couldn’t stand to be in the same place more than two weeks. It was exhausting.”
“Two weeks is too fast a pace for you?”
“Yeah. Much too fast. She came from a small town in the north of Scotland, and she’d been itching to leave since she was a girl. I figure she’ll need twenty years to get that out of her system.”
“It sounds like it’s leaving your system.”
“I think it’s starting to.” Taj laughed softly. “I don’t want to be too settled, of course. I could never stay in one place permanently. But I’d love to have a home base. Somewhere that I could keep things and know that they’d be there when I got back.” Her eyes grew unfocused. “Somewhere I could have a nice bed and a comfortable chair to read in.” She met Laurie’s eyes and said, “I’ve never had that. Everything we own travels with us.”
“How many bags do you have when you move someplace new?”
“Not that many. I have a lot more stuff than my parents do. I probably fill three crates, including my photography gear. My dad could get everything he owns into a backpack.” She laughed. “He usually has two pair of pants, one pair of shorts, three T-shirts and two regular shirts. He wraps that in a rain poncho, sticks it into a backpack and he’s ready to go.”