Standing in front of the closet, Kyla couldn’t reach a decision. She had never had so many clothing choices. In her studies of topside habits, she found that women changed their clothes often, sometimes more than once a day. However, she still wasn’t sure which outfit would be the most appropriate for what engagement.
Evan slipped in behind her and hugged her waist. She nestled the back of her head against him. His chest moved gently with the rise and fall of each breath and she loved the feel; it soothed her. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel this deeply about anyone, so at times, she needed the tactile feel of him to ground her in reality. She turned around, and gazing into his eyes, caressed the back of his neck. She stood on her toes and kissed him in such a way that she had no doubt it would hold him through the day.
Breathless with the feel and taste of him on her lips, she finally released him. “I can make no sense of this. Do you have any suggestions?”
Evan, out of breath himself, pulled out a filmy dress. “How about this?” He held it up to her eyes. “You’re so beautiful. You do the dress justice, not the other way around.”
Kyla giggled and took the hangar. She held it up in front of her and studied her image. “It is beautiful. You have exquisite taste and I love everything we purchased.” She turned back to him. “Blue it is.”
She hung the dress on a hook and Evan took her in his arms again. “I won’t be able to be with you much today. I’ve scheduled meetings regarding the sales of my stocks and other investments. Will you be all right on your own?”
Kyla shook her head and smiled. “Do not worry about me, love. I am looking forward to finding things on my own.”
Evan squeezed her waist. “Good, the car is ready whenever you are. Just call this number and tell the driver to bring it around. He’ll be at the front entrance before you can get down there.”
She knew he was concerned for her and she smoothed his brow. “I will be fine. I have seen you do this all the time. Now go—you do not want to be late for these important meetings. Would you still like to meet for lunch?”
“I’ll call you and let you know if I can get free. Don’t lose this phone.”
She took the cell and went to the front room. In a great display, she showed Evan where she was placing it in her purse.
He rolled his eyes. “OK, you’re good.” He kissed her one last time and they walked arm in arm to the private elevator. Evan pushed the button and the doors slid open noiselessly. He stepped inside and waved as they closed.
Kyla missed him already but she was looking forward to her adventures in Boston. She was ready to experience the city on her own and she wanted to find some garments that could possibly surprise Evan.
She went back to the closet and ran her hands over the dress. It was so soft and the gorgeous sky blue would reflect the balmy Boston day; she loved it. She hurried to finish dressing.
Seated at an outdoor café, Kyla basked in golden sunlight that sparkled off the waves in Boston harbor. The morning had created new surprises and infinite delights as she soaked up topside life, culture, and shopping. She felt incredibly alive. Watching people pass by, she carefully scrutinized their mannerisms and dress. These bustling topsiders fascinated her. She loved their high energy and mad dashes to unknown and important destinations.
Evan had called to say that he was running late, so she hadn’t ordered. She wanted to wait, but she was getting quite famished. Her stomach was making all sorts of angry noises and she was becoming embarrassed. When another loud rumble actually made the patrons at the next table look up, Kyla decided not to delay any longer. She signaled a waiter and placed her order. When the young man left with her menu, she looked at the phone again. No message. Well, he would come when he could. She sat back and continued to admire the view.
Evan had suggested this café. Situated on a pier, it offered sweeping vistas of the bustling bay. She felt nearly at home in the surroundings; it almost reminded her of Santorini, only much busier. She enjoyed the different ships and boats coming and going and people casting their lines from the boardwalk.
Her musing was sharply interrupted when she heard someone shout Daria’s name. She was afraid to look around. Still masked by Evan’s thoughts, she resembled Daria, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do or say. She thought she had been prepped and prepared for every contingency, but neither she nor Evan had counted on a chance meeting.
The woman shouted again. “Daria! Over here!”
Kyla stiffened her spine and looked around. A woman, waving and smiling like they were the best of friends, stood on the other side of the far railing. Kyla gulped and clinched her hands into tight fists. Her palms tingled and she felt the heat rise in her face. She froze. She hadn’t the slightest idea what to do.
“Daria, don’t you recognize me? It’s Megan!”
The plump, stylish, red-haired woman walked to the entrance and hurried to her table. She threw her arms around Kyla’s neck and squeezed. Then she kissed both her cheeks, hauled the bags she had been carrying up and over Kyla’s head, and settled herself in the opposite chair. It looked like she planned to stay forever. Kyla closed her eyes and tried to stop her nerves from unraveling.
The woman talked so fast, it was hard for Kyla to keep up; however, it saved her from having to join the conversation. The woman was overly excited to see “Daria” and rambled on about certain events at someplace the two of them may have worked.
Kyla did her best to look interested and tried to parry the woman’s questions. However, when Megan drew closer with a funny look on her face, Kyla nearly jumped out of her chair. The day was no longer fun and she secretly writhed beneath the woman’s scrutiny.
“What’s wrong with you? You don’t act like your old self. Married life already over?”
Kyla shook her head. The question was one that she could answer with absolute honesty and she felt like she was back on even ground. “Married life is amazing! I couldn’t have found a better man if I looked the entire world.”
Megan grinned. “I’m so glad to hear it. I knew you weren’t happy with the fact that Evan kept bugging you, so when I heard that you were going to Greece, I figured you were just trying to get rid of him.”
Kyla was gaining more confidence and rhapsodized, “Greece turned out to be magical! He came after me and everything clonked.”
The woman’s brows furrowed and she looked puzzled. “Clonked?”
She had said the wrong thing! She fisted her hands again and wildly searched her mind for topside expressions.
Suddenly, Megan brightened. “You mean clicked?”
Kyla threw her head back and laughed. “Exactly!”
Megan laughed, too, and reached out to touch her shoulder. “Maybe you’re still jet lagged. It takes a while to get over a trip like you had. That reminds me. Pictures—I need to see pictures!”
Kyla thought she was going to be sick. Panic rose along with the temperature of her body and she could taste the bile in her throat. She started to rise and leave with any excuse that would come to mind, but when she heard Evan’s shout, she plopped back into her chair with a huge sigh of relief.
“Daria! I’m here!” He darted from the cab and flew to the table. Kyla hadn’t even been able to send him a thought-form she had been so nonplussed. He bent to kiss her then stood and pulled out a chair. He sat, shook a napkin into his lap and gazed suspiciously at the unexpected guest. “Megan?”
“Evan.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Daria and I were just chatting. It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other and I just wanted to catch up.”
Evan stood and if Kyla hadn’t known him better, she would have thought that he was being rude. He glared at Megan and barely managed to keep the snarl out of his voice. “Don’t you have someplace else you need to be?”
The woman’s affable manner
departed. She frowned with a show of contempt, and without ceremony, stood and grabbed her bags. Nodding curtly to “Daria,” she said something that sounded to Kyla like, “Harumph,” then she stalked out of the café, using her bags as battering rams to angrily brush aside anyone who got in her way.
Evan watched her like a hawk sighting prey. “Just in time.”
Kyla, bewildered as to Evan’s reaction, took his hand. “Who is she? I was so frightened. She asked to see pictures of our wedding and honeymoon.”
Evan waved his other hand as though he was swatting a fly. “Don’t worry about her. She and Daria used to be friends. She’s a terrible gossip and she spread some pretty filthy lies about her. When Daria confronted her, they mutually decided it would be best to end the friendship. To my knowledge, they haven’t spoken since.”
Kyla felt a blush rise over her cheeks but she knew the makeup hid the Atlantean effect. She was surprised when Evan grinned. “I can see that you’re embarrassed; you might think about applying more base.”
Adopting a haughty attitude, Kyla pulled herself up and with all the dignity she could muster, looked down her nose and then up. “I was thinking that, once again, you have come to my rescue.” She batted her eyes like the heroines in her books. “You are my hero.”
Evan had taken a drink of water and almost snorted it out of his nose. He wiped the liquid from his mouth and laughed. “Certainly a different day.” He reached to touch her cheek. “I’ve cancelled the rest of my meetings. What would you think of a trip to a museum of impressionist paintings? It’s supposed to be an outstanding show.”
No longer hungry, Kyla searched through the pile of shopping bags. Beaming coquettishly, she brought out a bag that was quite small and tied with a bright pink bow. She waved it playfully in the air and teased, “I think you might rather see a fashion show.”
Reaching into his pocket, Evan threw some money down and took Kyla’s hand. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He called for the chauffer.
The cries of hungry gulls floated over the water as they surrounded the returning fishing boats. Ship horns honked merrily, and as Kyla followed Evan from the small café, Boston took on the patina of an impressionist painting in the amber haze of soft summer light.
Another two months had come and gone and Daria was showing so much that nothing fit. Grumpily, she tried to stretch the shirt out and away from her belly. “I don’t even think a queen-sized sheet would wrap all the way around me.” She scrunched her face and tried once more to pull the shirt down over her stomach.
She grimaced, “Whether Travlor likes it or not, someone is going to have to get me something I can wear!” She stomped out of her room to locate the insufferable man. She felt like she was carrying a baby elephant.
She passed the “hospital” room that Travlor had ordered and couldn’t help wondering how he made things happen so quickly. She knew he could compel people but she also knew that he had quit using that particular ability in an effort to retain his strength. “He must have an endless supply of money.”
“Almost.”
Spooked by the curt reply, she swung around to find Travlor standing behind her. “I didn’t hear you. Where were you?”
“Working. No need to worry.” He eyed her clothing and raised both brows at the sight of her protruding belly. “I believe you could use a larger size.”
“Tell me about it.” She tugged the top that threatened to become a midriff. “Can’t someone go to a store and get me a tent?”
Travlor chuckled. “Come my dear, you need breakfast. Perhaps it will improve your attitude, and to answer your question, I have dispatched someone to acquire the things you need.” Leading the way down the hall, his voice barged through the corridor. “Even though you are my prisoner, there is no reason for you to look like one.”
Grumbling, she followed Travlor down the stairs and into the dining room. “Well, you can just tell them size elephant.”
Travlor held the chair for her. “Shall we feed Dumbo?”
Daria chuckled despite her mood. Sometimes Travlor managed to say the right thing at the right moment—not often, but when he did, it helped. She scooted in and picked up the glass of special juice and gulped it down. She took a moment to savor the garnet-colored liquid and was glad that Travlor had retained such a chef. He truly was remarkable. “So, what’s on your agenda today?”
Travlor replaced his coffee cup. “Would you be interested in seeing my new church?”
Tempted to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing right, Daria knew her jaw had dropped open, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had never seen anything like it in her life. Not far from the estate, a sight that was as astounding as it was outrageous appeared.
In a cleared section of land, a grand testament to Travlor and to religion soared high into the air. The building’s polished marble walls glistened in the early morning light and stained glass windows threw rainbows of color across a well-manicured lawn. Resembling something out of old Rome, columns rose in mighty splendor underneath a wide portico. Enormous wooden doors, imported from God-knew-where, stood open, ready to receive the masses. At the very apex of the red, tiled roof—lest people not realize to whom they worshipped—a statue of a berobed Travlor, hands raised in benediction, towered over the entrance.
Daria didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Her thoughts raced and her eyes glazed over. He’s doing it! The man has created a religion!
Travlor raised his hand, looking eerily like the statue. “Care to see the inside?”
All Daria could do was nod. She was too dumbfounded to speak.
He led her up the stairs and into the vestibule. Displayed on one end wall was the “story” of Travlor’s life. She watched, in unabashed awe, as the film scrolled through scenes of Travlor feeding the hungry, binding the wounds of war victims, walking through villages handing out money. A sound erupted from Daria between a snort and a laugh. “My God, you make Saint Teresa look like the devil.”
Travlor put a hand on her back and ushered her into the main room. On a raised dais high above an arena stood, for lack of a better word, a throne. The chair glowed in gold and dripped with carvings and intertwining curlicues and mock angels ready to sound various sizes of trumpets. Daria felt faint. She wobbled over to one of the pews.
“Well, what do you think?”
“How did you make this happen so fast?”
“Did you ever stop to think how many people are willing to move mountains for their new savior? This was nothing!”
“But, why? Why do you need all this?”
Travlor walked over to her and ran his hand slowly over the polished wood. “Have you not taken stock of where we are? These countries need a leader. The people need someone they can look up to. If I were to try to lead without such an ostentatious display of power and wealth, my religion would only appeal to the masses of poor that already run amuck.
“No, I must appeal to the wealthy as well. Not only do I need their money to continue to fund my campaign, I need their compliance.”
“Compliance? For what?”
“Your naiveté continues to astound me.” He lowered himself next to Daria. “The coup I have put into place. The present government will be deposed and I will be elevated, not only as the new Messiah, but also the new dictator of this magnanimous country.”
The man’s assurance was unassailable; he spoke as though everything had already been accomplished and he was just waiting for the coronation to take place.
Daria couldn’t reply. She couldn’t even think of anything to say. What do you say to a megalomaniac … Don’t do it? She shook her head but Travlor mistook her meaning.
“Yes, it amazes even me. This edifice cost me quite a bit, but I intend to make that back very quickly. Have you noticed how many people this will hold?” He pointed to the balcony. “Notice the television camer
as? Oh yes, my word will encircle the globe now.”
Daria felt defeated. What could anyone do? He had amassed an army—generals were at his beck and call. And now, through massive telecommunication efforts, he was going to brainwash everyone with his superficial, religious drivel. Who could possibly stop this man? She pushed her tired body off the hard bench and stood, rubbing her aching back. “Can we go now?” The ‘ow’ echoed dully through the church.
Evan was in bed and Kyla had gone to the kitchen for a snack. He brushed his hair back, reflecting on the vision she had presented when she had walked out of the bathroom wearing … well, not much. He was living a dream, a waking dream that stretched before him with nothing but the love he had sought and craved all his life.
He sat up and retrieved his laptop from the side table and flipped it open. He needed a distraction or he would accost the poor woman before she returned from the kitchen.
Scrolling through the news, his eye caught the snippet of a headline. He stopped, opened the blurb and scanned the brief account. A bloodless government takeover had transpired in Columbia, South America. He rapidly searched for more of the story, but all he could glean was that the entire executive, legislative, and judicial branches had unanimously resigned in order to form an autocratic theocracy. The vast country of Columbia was now being led by someone they recognized as the New Messiah.
It had to be his father! Evan slammed the cover down and rolled out of the bed. Grabbing his robe, his thoughts flew through the stratosphere. “Columbia, Ni-Cio! They are in Columbia, South America!”
Yelling for Kyla, he almost ran into her when he rounded the corner to the kitchen. She looked frightened.
“I know where they are!”
She raised a hand to her heart. “Where?”
“Columbia, South America. He just took over the entire government without so much as a single rifle shot. I don’t know exactly where he is, but it’s a start!”
Currents of Will: Book Two of The Atlantis Chronicles Page 14