Curious about his intentions, I laid across the pile of cushions and groaned in bliss as Tadashi’s strong warm fingers began to systematically massage every muscle in my body.
I woke up alone in Tadashi’s bed feeling safe, rested, and completely relaxed even though I was naked. Lazily, I stretched out. A pile of clothes was on the bed beside me with a note and a flower atop them.
The note read, “I could find nothing soft enough for you to wear against your skin nor any flower to rival your sweetness.”
I sniffed the spray of jasmine and the paper. Tadashi’s words had me feeling all fluttery and girly. No one had ever before written me a love letter. Worried when I spotted a floral print, I was relieved to find a soft long-sleeved blue shirt with a floral pattern and buttons down the front. It had a collar and front pockets just like my favorite plaid shirt. It reached past my butt. There were a pair of thick black leggings and a pair of black leather ankle boots. Tadashi had even remembered panties, a bra, and socks all of which were made of a black floral lace.
I used his waste unit, washed my face in his sink, and figured since he seemed to enjoy kissing me so much that he wouldn’t mind if I used his tooth brush or his hair brush for that matter. I dressed and decided it would be polite to make his bed before leaving.
Last night, Tadashi had applied tiny gel adhesive bandages to my knuckles, but when combined with the bruise on my cheek, I looked pretty banged up. I placed the sprig of jasmine behind my ear, folded Tadashi’s note, put it in the pocket over my heart, and left his room.
It seemed as though I was the only individual on the entire floor. However, that was not the case when I entered the main lobby where a family of twelve was checking in. I didn’t catch sight of Tadashi, Dorian, or even Lord Tanaka, so I left the Wisteria and decided to treat myself to breakfast at the diner.
“Good morning, Clue,” Nadia said as she led me to a booth. “What can I get you?”
“I want that big breakfast, some juice, and a cup of tea. Thanks, Nadia.”
Giving me a light-hearted chuckle and a perusal with her eyes, Nadia said, “Aside from the bruise, you look nice today.”
“Thank you,” I said as I touched the flower in my hair and blushed.
Nadia smiled and went to fill my order.
While I waited, I gazed out of the window at the General Store. Then, I pulled Tadashi’s note from my pocket, read it again, and then carefully folded it and put it back. After breakfast, I crossed the street and went to the General Store to look around. It seemed to have a little of everything. I found boxes of stationary and settled on a nice simple set in white with a thin gold horizontal line across the top and bottom with matching envelopes. I picked out a black pen.
Tadashi had kept me warm and safe, fed me dinner, massaged away all of my aches, given me clean clothes, a sweet note, and a flower. I wanted to do something nice for him in return. I had no idea what he might like. From his room, it was evident that he had an appreciation for every type of weapon imaginable, but there was no way that I was giving him stolen merchandise from my basement. My father had seemed to enjoy holo-images of his female acquaintances. Even though Tadashi had seen me sans clothing and had had his hands all over me, I didn’t feel comfortable sending him a picture in any of the poses that I had seen.
Wandering along the aisles, I found a display of seed packets and spun the rack. I wondered if my house had roof access. Seeing a packet of bamboo seeds, I picked it up. Tadashi told me that he had played in a bamboo forest as a child. I paid for my items and went home.
Without much to do on Eris Station, I had practiced my penmanship and thought I did a nice job on my note to Tadashi. In my note, I thanked him for his kindness and generosity and told him that I hoped our friendship would continue to grow as strong and deep as the majestic forest of which he had told me. I sealed my note and the packet of bamboo seeds in an envelope and wrote, “Tadashi Shimizu, The Wisteria Hotel,” on the outside. Then, I placed the note he had written to me on the table beside my bed and the flower he had given me in a small glass of water next to it. I hoped the water would perk up the poor little drooping thing.
I carried my letter to the Hover Currier store for delivery and then walked up Cherry Street to check on Mrs. Stone. Her yard was a mess from the storm. I dragged limbs from her driveway and piled them off to the side of her yard. Noticing me, Mrs. Stone came out of her house and onto her porch.
“That was some storm we had, but my new little tree sure did enjoy the rain.” I smiled up at her as I dusted my hands off by rubbing them together. “It’s been some time since I drove into town for supplies. Would you mind coming with me to help?”
“I’d be glad to help, Mrs. Stone.”
Excitedly, she said, “I’ll just get my bags and meet you at the garage.”
Mrs. Stone dropped a stack of reusable bags into the back compartment of her transport and climbed into the driver’s seat. Once I was seated, she backed out of her driveway and drove slower than anyone who I had ever observed all of the way to the General Store. I imagined myself jogging faster than she drove but kept my mouth shut about it. She shopped at the same speed and spent more time talking to a few of the other old ladies who seemed to be shopping at the same pace. Of course, she introduced me to everyone she knew.
While I was putting her bagged purchases into the back of her transport, I saw Mrs. Stone, two of her little old lady friends, and the cashier whispering together. When I returned for the last two bags, I heard “Shimizu,” and saw the cashier nod her head. I went back out and took my seat in her transport while adjusting my own bag with my feet. Mrs. Stone’s cheeks had a rosy happy glow when she got in.
“Do you mind stopping a few blocks up ahead, so I can drop this off at home?”
“I’d be happy to, Clue.”
I pointed out my house. “I’ll just be a minute,” I said as I grabbed my brand new hover board and set it down just inside of the doorway imagining a major decrease in my future travel times.
After stops at a shoe store, Big Bubba’s Grocery Store, and a quick stop at a seafood store, Mrs. Stone was satisfied with her shopping. She drove slowly and carefully up Tortoise Street before turning onto Honjo and then Cherry. Again, I resisted the urge to scream in annoyance. Finally, she parked in her garage.
“Mrs. Stone, please, go inside. I’ll bring all of this to the kitchen for you.”
“You are such a dear. It was so nice getting out. In fact, since I can drive again, I’m picking the ladies up for lunch tomorrow. That branch you cut up for me the other day had me trapped and isolated. My friends don’t drive, and by the time their children get home from work, it’s just too late for us. I can’t stay up until all hours like I used to.”
I refused the credit chip she tried to give me. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll head home. I want to learn how to use my new hover board.”
She handed me a bag of cookies on my way out. Shopping with Mrs. Stone had been the most arduous task that I had done for her so far, but she had seemed so happy. I stopped in at the diner for a quick bite and then went home.
Chapter Seven
I added the big reusable bag from the General Store to my own little shopping bag stack and tried to open the box surrounding my hover board. My fingers were getting me nowhere. The dull little knives in the kitchen weren’t much use against the plasti-seal wrap covering my hover board box either. Abandoning my efforts, I went upstairs to my closet, through the hidden door, and into the basement.
I grabbed a sweet tea from Winks’ cold storage that was hidden amidst the juice and guzzled it. Then, I wandered into his work room. A sharp, needle-nosed, scissor type of tool looked like it would do the trick. As I rummaged, I found a drawer containing a few more useful tools. There were knives in sheaths, a couple of hand blasters, and a set of heavy metal rings that were melded together. I put the fingers of my right hand through one of them and made a fist.
On Eris Station, I had
watched a mercenary tear up a man, who had pulled a knife on him and been twice his size, with just one of these. I put the other black metal knuckle ring on my left hand. They weren’t legal to own or to use. The mercenary had had to pay a steep fine. However, I figured that if I ever had to use them, it would be because someone was about to try to do something illegal to me first.
In another of Winks’ work table drawers, I found a slip of paper on which was written, “The Eye of Kiyohime.” I replaced the slip of paper, but took the tool and metal knuckles with me.
Pondering what the eye of Kiyohime could be as I used Winks’ tool successfully on my box, I freed my hover board. After reading through the directions twice and learning that its power source would last indefinitely since it recharged itself kinetically, I was ready to try it out.
I tossed my new shoes under the dining table. With thousands of square feet at my disposal and only a table, four chairs, and a couch to impede me, I had plenty of room to try out my new board inside. I activated it with the big toe of my right foot by pressing the area near the central anti-gravitational module. My board was solid black. It gave a soft hum as it lifted a foot and a half off of the ground. The board was supposed to adjust itself to both my weight and postural alignment.
“Here we go.”
I stepped up with my left foot and then my right feeling the odd sensation of the board as it adjusted itself to me and lowered itself about four inches from the floor. When I shifted to the left to see how far it was from the ground, the board moved to the right. With a soft nervous laugh, I stood straight and practiced shifting my weight from side to side. A slight forward motion had the board slowly propelling me forward. Once I was satisfied that I could move forward and backwards, I taught myself to turn. Soon, I was riding my hover board in large ovals around my large living room.
I decided to try riding it up the stairs. Discovering that I wasn’t ready for that little trick just yet when I fell off of the back of my board, bounced on my butt down the stairs, and halted my progress with my head against the concrete wall, I decided to use the downstairs waste unit before going to invest in a helmet.
After crawling under the table for my shoes, I walked to the General Store reusable shopping bag in hand. The helmet selection had me pissed. The ones that would actually stay on my head if I were to fall were ridiculous.
Striding up to the cashier on duty, I asked, “Are there any more helmets in the back?”
“No, that’s all we’ve got,” he said.
Sighing, I returned to my choices of bright red, pink with white polka dots, or blue waves with frolicking cartoon dolphins. “This is fucking shit.” An old man nearby gasped at me. “Sorry,” I said to him. He frowned and walked away. I hated red. The pink and white would be like a target if I returned to Dorado. At least the blue one was fairly dark and might not be too visible from a distance, and it did fit. I took it to the cashier and paid for it. The door chimed as a customer entered. The old man frowned disapprovingly at me from his place in line behind me.
Blushing, I took my bag and returned home. I changed into a T-shirt, a pair of Hyperion College sweatpants, and an old pair of exercise shoes that had a hole in the toe. I rolled my eyes at myself as I put on my dolphin helmet. Then, grabbing my bag from Big Bubba’s, I rode my hover board out of my house.
Staying close to the curb and out of the way, I rode down Honjo to Tortoise at a pace that might have been too slow even for Mrs. Stone. A group of pre-teens sped past me on their own boards and laughed at me. “Nice helmet,” one of the boys chuckled.
I groaned to myself. A small girl in the back of the group smiled proudly at me as she passed me wearing the same helmet.
When I was almost even with the Wisteria Hotel, I saw Dorian with his arms crossed over his chest leaning his back against the building. His smile was large as he followed my progress with his eyes. I did not resist the urge to flip him off. I heard his laughter, but I didn’t look instead thinking it would be best to concentrate.
I made it to the shoreline. Falling into sand or water was preferable to cement. Leaning forward, I practiced going faster and stopped each time a seashell caught my eye. Only the prettiest shells went into my shopping bag. Quickly, I began to master my board.
As I raced along the shore with the wind whipping at the ends of my hair that poked free of my helmet, I felt like I was flying. Practicing subtle shifts from side to side as I skimmed across the sand along the water’s ever changing edge, a sparkle caught my attention. Stopping my hover board and crouching down, I plucked from the chill water a clear blue polished piece of glass. It had been worn smooth by the constant roll and tumble of the waves. In that, it was like Momma. The constant ups and downs of life had made her soft and accepting where it had turned others to bitterness.
Wiping the pretty sea bauble dry on my shirt, I gave it a kiss and stuck it inside of my lacy black bra over my heart. Then, the darkening sky drove me back the way I had come. Three muscular men were jogging toward me as they laughed and talked. Smiling, I rode to them and then around them in circles.
“I’m glad to see you have improved. I had my doubts when the Taft children blew past you,” Dorian said. The men stopped running.
Looking at their bare feet and legs, I asked, “Aren’t you cold?”
Tadashi, Dorian, and Lord Tanaka only wore shorts and the sand clinging to their feet. “No, but you appear to be,” Tadashi said with a slow smile as he looked at my chest.
I smirked at him and pulled the sea glass from my bra thrusting it at him. “Ha-ha. You’re hilarious.” Taking it from me, Tadashi rubbed his thumb across its surface and handed it back to me. Dorian coughed as I put it back inside of my bra. “Well, enjoy your run. I’m off to Big Bubba’s.”
I kissed Tadashi’s cheek and sped away. Then, turning my head and slowing, I gazed in appreciation at the line that ran from between his shoulders, and down his back to disappear into the waistband of his shorts. He didn’t have any extra weight on his lithe build, and every muscle seemed to show. I was admiring his muscular thighs when I veered into the water and was awarded with a splash in the face. Tadashi turned and grinned at me.
“I need a helmet with a face shield,” I mumbled.
This evening, Big Bubba’s had a selection of muffins and breads for sale. Deciding on prudence, I bought one of each and a few bottles of sweet tea. Street traffic had begun to pick up as the fishing boats came in for the night, and people went to restaurants or their beds. I stayed close to the curb and out of the way even though I had become much more proficient.
Safely home, I munched on a thick slab of cinnamon bread and drank iced tea while I put the rest of my food into the cold storage unit. Then, I washed and dried my newest shells. One was shaped like an oval bowl. The outside was ugly, but the inside was a swirl of purple, blue, pink, and cream with an almost metallic sheen. I carried it to the fireplace, and as I bent over to place it on the hearth, something clattered to the wooden floor and skidded away to the left corner of the room.
“Oh, no! I hope it didn’t break,” I said of my piece of blue sea glass. Picking it up, I found it to be unharmed and discovered another secret door. “Winks, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
Putting the bit of glass back into my bra, I changed into a pair of pants I found in the cleaning unit, put the flashlight into my waistband, and put the metal knuckles in the pockets of my jacket. Then, I decided upon the wisdom of a waste unit visit.
Soundlessly, the door opened. I wasn’t sure how I had found it since it blended in seamlessly with the concrete walls. Running my hand along its edge, it seemed as though it had been coated in some sort of cement veneer. On the other side of it, it looked like I was in a small closet until I noticed the scan pad in front of my face. At my touch, the door opened. Cement stairs led down. I wondered if this was another way into the basement. There was a small landing at the bottom, and then the stairs continued down in another direction and to another door with
a scanner. Pressing a button, I saw through it to the other side. An empty grey tunnel greeted my sight.
I ventured out securing the door behind me. Then, I began to creep along silently unsure of what I might find. From overhead, I heard what sounded like a transport and wondered if the tunnel was part of a drainage network for the city. Then, farther ahead I heard voices. Staying over to the side, I strained to hear and moved closer and into an intersection of tunnels.
“What can you give me for it?” said a man with a low gruff voice.
“How many times has it changed hands?” asked a second male.
“It’s only been in mine. Took it straight out of the oyster myself.”
My foot slid on some moldy slime and made a barely discernable sound, but it was enough. I heard one set of feet take off running. The other set came in my direction. Panic seized me, and I turned to run. Instead of getting the traction I needed to jet forward, I slipped in the slime and went down hard on my right knee. While scrambling for purchase, I was seized from behind by the neck of my jacket and lifted up.
“Who the fuck are you snooping around down here? Working for the P&S or worse are you, you little piece of shit?”
He gave me a shake like what a cat might give to a mouse that it had caught by the scruff of the neck. The armholes of my jacket dug into my underarms. Then, he slammed me face and chest first against the wall of the tunnel. I heard the snick of sound made by a retractable knife and went into full panic. All I could do in my current position was flail helplessly. I was even too terrified to scream. As I felt the sharp point of the knife press against the side of my back near my ribs, a whump of sound seemed to lift me like a breath and put me down. The air seemed to roll out and away from me like an enormous expanding donut taking with it all of the color from the world and leaving me with shades of black, white, and grey. All sound had gone with the colors. I couldn’t hear my own breathing or feel the blade of the knife.
Clue and The Shrine of the Widowed Bride (Clue Taylor Book 1) Page 7