by L. A. Zoe
SeeJai squealed, but he kept his balance even though he felt the force of her weight in his stomach muscles.
Slowly, he rose back to a standing position. His lower back ached. His thighs and calves quivered as they made minute movements to adjust his posture for SeeJai, who couldn’t sit still. He regained balance around his tanden, a point behind his navel, his body’s usual center of gravity.
The folk metal band Agalloch’s first album Pale Folklore played at low volume through the MP3 player’s speakers.
In slow motion, he began the series of punches, blocks, and kicks that comprised this kata.
“Sybille called me this morning while you were out,” SeeJai said.
Rhinegold wanted to throw her onto the floor, but kept his composure, his equilibrium of mind and emotions. “What’s up now?”
“Asked if we wanted to see The Snow Queen. It’s an ice show someone gave your father a bunch of tickets for.”
He kicked with his right foot while pivoting on his left. Not easy with SeeJai on his shoulders. Not a strong kick, and then his left thigh ached, but stressing himself more than usual was the entire point.
He made a series of powerful punches. First in slow motion then, as he got used to SeeJai’s weight on his shoulders and made the adjustments, fast enough to feel the speed.
Agalloch began playing their song Dead Winter Days.
“Rhinegold?” SeeJai asked.
She expected a response? Not good. “Did you tell them to have a good time?”
“We’re supposed to meet them at the Coliseum at seven o’clock. That’ll give us time to have a quick snack together. The theater has its own little restaurant.”
Rhinegold forgot the kata. He jumped as though attacking an opponent in front of him, punching furiously, forgetting to remain mindful to keep his form correct.
She slapped the side of his head, and Rhinegold paused to pant. He said, “Why don’t you just move in with them?”
“They’re just using me to get through to you,” she said.
“And you’re letting them.”
“It’s nice they thought of us.”
“Like you said, they’re using you to get at me. Now she’s calling you instead of me about social events.”
“Seems like an improvement to me. For the Valentine’s Day party, she sent you the invitation—”
“— which you violated federal law by opening.”
“— and I was just the guest you could bring tagging along. She almost begged you to take Helena instead of me. Or anyone else.”
Rhinegold tried jogging around the room. SeeJai’s ass bounched against the back of his neck. He wanted to build muscle, not see his family again. Not so soon. Especially Sybille and Keara. Especially not Father.
Especially anybody except SeeJai.
“Is Helena going too?” Rhinegold asked.
SeeJai paused before answering. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t ask. I didn’t even think of her. Your stepmother wouldn’t try something so rude and brazen, would she?”
“I can’t answer for what Sybille might do.”
“Maybe Helena’s playing violin in the show.”
“If you want me to go, why’d you say that?”
“I thought—never mind.”
Standing in one place, Rhinegold jumped up and down, trying to rattle her. “What? What’d you think?”
“You wanted to hear her play violin.”
“I can listen to a million violinists on YouTube.”
The MP3 player switched to Wintersun.
“All right.”
Rhinegold lunged forward, then stopped himself. SeeJai lost her balance, and began falling over his head. He bent over and let her land on the bed.
Rhinegold knelt over her, cradling her in his arms. “And a million dudes go to college. How many walk the mean streets trying to protect innocent lives?”
SeeJai cupped his cheeks in her palms. She raised her head and gave him a brief but passionate tongue kiss. “My darling superdude, when are you going to learn responsibility?”
He lay beside her, wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “You mean, why don’t I just work twenty hours a day at the office like Father does?”
“I don’t believe everyone does that. I see plenty of nice people come into the restaurant. They have money to enjoy evenings out.”
“To throw parties and attend ice shows at restored antique theaters.”
She brushed long hair up out of his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? I’ve missed so much. After JaeSea … died, Mom … just drifted loose from Planet Earth. Never took me anywhere. She drank and watched movies while I just made do as well as I could.”
“Work gets in the way of the good times,” Rhinegold said. “That’s why I learned as a kid. My mother did take me out, before they split up. But Father? Give me a break. Always working. He’s been a stranger to me for as long as I can remember.”
SeeJai looked at him with soft eyes. “Can you do me a favor and go to the show with your family? If you’re ashamed of me, I can—”
“You know it’s not that!”
“All right, just pretend you’re their son, all right?”
“I’m Father’s son, never Sybille’s!”
SeeJai winced, not expecting such vehemence. “All right, just go, and have a good time.”
“As a favor to you?” he asked.
Her mouth muscles twisted, and her eyes misted as she nodded.
The waif elf princess again. Named Lirazel in Lord Dunsany’s novel. But a book—even such a great, lyrical novel—could not capture the otherworldly light shining from behind her eyes, and haloed her head like a saint in a Middle Age painting.
Black eyes deep as a baby’s. Two lips thick enough to be sensual, thin enough to seem aristocratic. Not arrogantly, just to signify her classic status as a born lady, dignity merged with compassion.
And his heart opened like a black keep lowering its drawbridge to allow entry to its true ruler.
And he wanted to die fighting for her life and honor. Sword in hand, singlehandedly vanquishing a horde of enemies.
“Of course I’ll go,” he said. Her arms circled his head as he lowered it to her chest. “As long as I don’t have to go to law school.”
“You can be anything, Rhinegold. Anything. “You’re smart and strong. You can go to college and learn what you want, then have a career you love.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before,” Rhinegold said. “Next we’ll have two point four children and live in the suburbs.”
“As long as I’m with you,” SeeJai said. “I’ll take the two point four children.”
Chapter Forty-Three
A Wedding Anniversary Celebration
Walking into the Sunshine Garden Restaurant as a customer disoriented me. Of course Mary the receptionist had our table for four reserved, but it seemed so strange to follow her as she led us to it.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said after taking us to one of the back booths, then looked at Rhinegold. “Especially you. I thought you own that piece of sidewalk across the street.”
“I have special permission from Arkady to come inside tonight,” Rhinegold said. “Signed and sealed.”
Mom and Georgie took one side, Rhinegold and I the other. The soft comfort of the deep leather cushioning surprised me.
I couldn’t help but glance around. Same shaded yellow lighting. Same tan hardwood tables. Same New Age music playing at low volume. Same clatter of noise from the kitchen. Same overhanging aromas of veggies and spices. Same murmur of customer conversations. The waitresses wore the same brown uniforms.
But I wasn’t one of them. Not tonight.
“Eat up,” I told the others. “Get whatever you like.”
“You mean I can eat whatever I like?” Georgie said with a wicked grin.
“Sure.”
“Even steak and lobster?”
Mom nudged him with her
elbow. “This is a vegetarian restaurant.”
Areetha came up holding her order pad. “Hello, there, is this your first time at the Sunshine Garden? My name’s Areetha, I’ll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order yet?”
“Now I have to leave a big tip,” I said.
“So eat up, the rest of you,” Areetha said. “This one’s all coming out of SeeJai’s next paycheck.”
When it was Georgie’s turn, he said, “I’ll take a T-bone steak. Medium well.”
Mom slammed his ribs with her elbow while Rhinegold and I laughed. “This is a vegetarian restaurant.”
“So? Doesn’t it come with a tossed salad and a baked potato?”
“Give him the soy steak,” I told Areetha. I didn’t care much for the tofu and soy versions of fake meat, but maybe Georgie wouldn’t notice the difference.
After we ordered, Arkady came out holding a big bottle of cold fake champagne. That is, nonalcoholic. He knew I didn’t want Mom or Georgie drinking the real stuff.
“I am most pleasing to serve the family of Miss SeeJai,” he said in his best Russian accent. “It is great honor for me and my restaurant.”
I introduced him to Mom and Georgie, and he shook their hands with solemn courtesy. “I must do good service job on this special occasion, or maybe SeeJai she leave me, and she is best waitress, favorite of many customers. Married one whole month. That is most great achievement.”
Arkady’s English grammar wasn’t perfect, but he knew how to lay it on so thick we’d need hip boots to get back out the door.
He signaled somebody in the back, and the music changed to “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles. “I hear this is favorite love song of your generation.”
“Got any Led Zeppelin?” Georgie asked.
Mom nudged him again to shut up.
He said, “You’re my stairway to Heaven, Melissa.” So she smiled and simpered back in a way that gnawed at my stomach.
Smiling. My mother. That’s like seeing the Mona Lisa scowl. Or the Pope flip someone the bird. Or a campaigning politician refuse to shake hands.
Arkady poured us all glasses of the fake champagne, and led us in a toast to Mom and Georgie having many more wedding anniversaries.
Georgie sipped, than choked. “That’s just carbonated grape juice!”
Arkady laughed, and slapped him on the back. “Just for fun, my friend. For serious drinking real men need red pepper vodka straight out of the bathtub, right?”
Georgie frowned. “When I was young, I could drink you or any other commie into the gutter.”
Arkady’s laugh boomed so loud half the restaurant looked at our table.
Rhinegold smiled, but I wished I’d taken Mom and Georgie to another restaurant. Or had them over to our room, and ordered a pizza delivered. Or gone to their apartment for the pizza. They had the big, widescreen TV and satellite channels.
We ate our tossed salads, green hummus, miso and tofu soup, noodles and stir fried vegetables, and drank hot tea and soda.
Then Arkady brought out our dessert—another surprise. A chocolate cake with “Congratulations Melissa and Georgie on your one month wedding anniversary” written on top in white icing.
When we finished, Areetha brought me the bill.
I looked at her.
“Just sign it,” she said. “So it authorizes Arkady to take that out of your paycheck.”
I turned it over, and winced. A bigger hit than I thought, especially after I added a big tip for Areetha. More than I could afford, but she deserved it for steering me to the job in the first place. And Saturday I had to spring for a decent dress to wear to the ice show, and I’d lose my usual Saturday nights to Areetha filling in for me.
We shifted in our chairs, preparing to leave.
Mom grabbed Georgie’s arm, “And thank you, Georgie, for the happiest times of my life.” She sniffled, on the edge of breaking down and crying. “I haven’t enjoyed life so much since … poor JaeSea … excuse me.”
She held a tissue to her face and hurried into the Women’s Room.
I felt like a train slamming into a brick wall. My guts flattened into a dripping puddle. The eight hundred pound gorilla in the room jumped up and down on me.
Rhinegold, seeing my face, put his arm around me.
Georgie said in his kind voice, “She doesn’t mean it like you think, SeeJai.”
“I’m glad you do make her happy, Georgie. It just still hurts that—” I choked up, unable to finish.
“It wasn’t you,” Georgie said.
“How do you know?”
“We’ve talked about it,” Georgie said, looking apologetic. “And I’ve met other people lost children early. It wasn’t because JaeSea died but you lived, and you weren’t as good as JaeSea. She would’ve been just as hurt if you died and JaeSea lived instead.”
My small plate full of cake crumbs blurred. I had to leave. Mom still in the bathroom. Good.
“The grief was so big, it wiped out everything else,” Georgie said. “She’s always loved you, she just hurt too much to show it.”
I stood up. “Keep making her happy, Georgie. I’m a failure at it.” I grabbed my winter coat, and told Rhinegold, “Let’s get out of here.”
“SeeJai,” he called after me, “give her a chance—”
But I ignored his voice, and Rhinegold and I returned to the bitter cold, and walked to our bus stop.
My tears froze to the side of my nose.
Chapter Forty-Four
Meeting Lenny the Wolf Man
Another clear blue sky, bright sun Saturday morning. Holding four bags of groceries, Rhinegold trudged down Dr. Martin Luther King Avenue beside Asia James and her two preschool children. He held the food and supplies, double-bagged, out to each side. That both stabilized his body’s balance and gave his arm muscles additional exercise.
Asia pushed a baby carriage with her youngest baby riding in it, and held a bag of lighter items, bread and toilet paper, in her left hand.
Even the older child carried a bag. With their hair woven into tight corn rows, Rhinegold couldn’t be sure if the child was a boy or a girl.
“It sure is nice to help us like this,” Asia said. “Sometimes my sister drives us, but this morning she had to work.”
Cars slushed along Martin Luther King at high speed, tires throwing up sprays of black snow.
With a thick stocking cap, blue jeans, a thick gray winter coat, and gloves, Asia herself looked tough and stocky enough to defend herself. She smelled of some kind of hair oil.
A social worker at Kiowa Division of Family Services referred Asia to Rhinegold several days ago, after she reported a mugger robbed her of $10 cash and her food stamp card early one Saturday morning on her way to the Shop ’n Save supermarket.
The social worker assured Rhinegold Asia didn’t smoke crack, or neglect or abuse her children.
Rhinegold took her from her house to the store, the most dangerous time. Some crackheads hadn’t gone to bed yet, and were looking to score more money to keep on smoking with.
And women heading to the supermarket had more cash and grocery credit remaining on their food stamp cards than those who just finished shopping.
Still, some people would kill for food to eat, and Asia had three children under school age to transport, and so he was helping her, and her kids and the food she bought, get home safely.
Not that efficient bodyguards encumbered their hands with grocery sacks, but Rhinegold didn’t worry. Just him walking with Asia should discourage any would-be muggers.
Asia lived several blocks south of Martin Luther King, on Dee. Layers of frozen snow and thick ice still covered most of the sidewalks, so Rhinegold tread carefully, almost half skating, slowly so the contents of the bags—many canned goods on each side, would not swing too wildly, making him work harder just to remain standing.
The house next to Asia’s was empty—not condemned, but boarded up, as the police did to the scenes of drug busts. Thick evergreen bush
es grew in front, close to the house.
Asia stopped. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Rhinegold asked. He didn’t want to stop, but he didn’t want to get too far in front of her.
Then he heard a growling noise, like a dog. Faint, but growing louder. Coming from behind the evergreen bushes. A large, dark shape lurked there.
A wild dog. Packs of them ran loose in Cromwell, especially in the poorer areas. The city’s Department of Animal Control seemed unable to catch them. Rhinegold never heard of dogs hiding behind bushes, but it must be alone. Maybe it was rabid.
Rhinegold put down the grocery bags. He shouted to Asia, “Get your kids inside the house!”
As Asia began pushing her baby carriage over the snow covering her front yard, the beast came out of the bushes, and ran toward them, fast.
For a split second, shock slowed Rhinegold. Not a dog, but a man. Large. Black. And naked.
Despite the cold winter weather, a man in nothing but his birthday suit.
Still growling. And running hunched over like an animal, though holding something in one hand.
He should have been shivering out of control from the cold.
“Wolf man!” the man cried in a guttural howl as he charged.
Asia and the two kids screamed, while the baby cried.
“Hey!” Rhinegold ran after him, trying to catch him before he caught and harmed Asia or one of the children.
The man sprinted faster than Rhinegold, but he pivoted, then hurled himself at Rhinegold.
Rhinegold automatically tried to hold up his fists and assume a classic karate fighting stance, but the crazy naked man struck first.
Still growling, screeching, and trying to bite Rhinegold’s nose off.
Rhinegold slammed his face several times with solid punches that hurt his fingers, but they didn’t faze the Wolf Man. Rhinegold kicked out at his knees, trying to drop him to the ground.
The Wolf Man lunged forward, and slashed Rhinegold’s left arm with his knife.
Sudden, hot ripping pain punched Rhinegold in the gut, and he fell with Wolf Man’s breath in his mouth. He butted up with his skull, but that didn’t stop the crazy man.