City of the Sun

by Juliana Maio

  “I think the king’s men are up to no good. All three are Italians, his best friends, you know,” the countess whispered as he prepared to excuse himself. “Really, what kind of king has an electrician, a barber, and the keeper of the royal kennels as his best friends!”

  Mickey watched one of the king’s Italian cronies put a green goblet in front of the king and bring his fingers to his mouth, kissing the tips of them as if to say, “Delicious.” The king laughed in response. The behavior seemed juvenile but harmless.

  “For the past half hour his friends have taken turns bringing these goblets to the king. I don’t trust them. Who knows what could be in that drink?”

  Indeed, there were a great many goblets in front of the king, but Mickey couldn’t care less. From the corner of his eye he spotted Lili passing by. She smiled at him and with a jerk of her head indicated the back wall. Mickey didn’t need to be told twice. He placed his napkin on the table and pushed back his chair.

  “Pardon me,” he said, bowing to the countess. “I have to say hello to a friend.” He fastened his jacket and straightened up as he navigated the crowded tables. He picked up a dessert plate from a suffragi along the way and nodded to Randolph Churchill, who was dying of embarrassment as the large woman seated next to him, undoubtedly soused, hung around his neck. “You save a dance for me, good looking,” Sally shouted. Kirk was seated at the last table at the end of the room. He stood up and motioned Mickey to a corner.

  “How’s it going?” Kirk asked.

  “Blood is thicker than water,” Mickey said. “Yvette Cattaoui is not going to talk about her brother, but I did learn a few things.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to hear the details.” Kirk lowered his voice. “Mickey, I’m worried about Dorothy. She is not here. This is very unlike her.”

  “Maybe she got a better offer,” Mickey said, sure that Dorothy would have some amusing explanation for her absence.

  Kirk pursed his lips and nodded, but it was clear he wasn’t convinced. Mickey patted him on the shoulder and moved on. He rounded the corner to the lemonade stand, and there she was … with the king casually leaning on her counter. Two men in dark suits stood nearby, the king’s bodyguards, he assumed. Maya was nervously pouring from a pitcher into the king’s goblet, her eyes lowered, her face tense. Suddenly all the shenanigans at the king’s table made sense: The king’s pals had discovered a pretty girl for the king. Now he had come to check her out for himself. Not so fast, you son of a bitch, Mickey thought.

  “Brought you some dessert, darling,” he told Maya, who looked up at him with relief. “You must be starving, working so hard. Mickey Connolly, US press, Your Majesty,” he said, turning to the king and extending his hand. The king did not take it, but with the palm of his hand stopped the bodyguards who were already stepping forward.

  “I was thrilled to see you on the front cover of Time magazine not long ago,” Mickey continued. “They did a splendid report on your wedding. I think you’ll find that you have a lot of fans in America.”

  An irritated expression passed over the king’s face. “Really? I thought Americans were not too fond of kings. Except for King Kong,” he joked, looking at Maya to see if she laughed.

  She didn’t.

  “Oh, no, Your Majesty. We all thought you looked quite dashing,” Mickey said.

  “The king was very kind to invite me to his private gathering tomorrow night, darling,” she said, her voice thin. “But isn’t your friend arriving from London?”

  “Precisely. But very kind of you, sir.”

  Farouk did not respond and picked up the glass Maya had poured him. He took a sip. “I must compliment my friends on their excellent taste,” he declared.

  “Here you are!”

  Riri Charbit, the king’s mistress appeared. She grabbed him by the arm. “Madame Mosseri is just about to announce your surprise.” She nodded apologetically to Mickey and Maya before tearing Farouk away and parting the small crowd of curious onlookers that had suddenly formed.

  “Saved by the bell,” Mickey said.

  “I don’t believe what just happened!” Maya exclaimed, covering her cheeks with her hands, flustered. “He was making me terribly uncomfortable. All I could think about was how some of the girls described his bedroom downstairs. There’s a mirror above his bed, and explicit paintings of men and women … you know …”

  “I’ve heard. Let’s go look,” he said with a grin.

  “No!” she said, elbowing him. “And don’t get any ideas.”

  “Who said I don’t already have some?” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  She looked at him, arms crossed.

  “Just teasing, just teasing. Whenever I think of you, you’re always fully clothed! Swear to God.”

  “I’m sure,” she said, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

  Madame Mosseri’s voice came over the loudspeaker announcing gaily, “You are all invited to the upper deck for fireworks, courtesy of His Majesty. Et la fête continue.”

  The news was greeted with cheers, and a brouhaha ensued as the guests began to migrate toward the upper deck.

  Maya saw Lili emerge out of the crowd with a young man in tow. He had chubby cheeks and his dark, shiny hair was combed into a wavy pompadour.

  “Maya, this is Fernando Lagnado. Mon amoureux, my sweetheart,” Lili proudly announced.

  “And you are the famous cousin from Damascus!” he said with a gallant bow. “Lili told me you’ll be chaperoning us next Wednesday.”

  “Next Wednesday?” Mickey said, looking expectantly at Maya.

  “I was going to tell you,” she rushed to explain.

  “We’ll be double dating,” Lili said with a wink.

  “In that case we might as well start getting to know each other. I’m Mickey Connolly,” he said, extending his hand to Fernando. “Let’s go find a good spot to watch the fireworks.”

  “I’ll need to find my aunts first,” Fernando said.

  Mickey frowned. “Don’t bring them along. We’ll have more fun just the four of us.”

  Lili gave Mickey a grateful smile and linked her arm around Fernando’s.

  “I just want to let them know where I will be,” Fernando said. “So they won’t worry. It won’t take long. I’ll join you upstairs.”

  Lili’s face fell, but she nonetheless left with her amoureux.

  “What’s with him and his aunts?”

  “His parents died when he was very young,” Maya explained. “He was raised by his mother’s five spinster sisters. I should really ask permission before leaving the booth.”

  “Come on! This room will be completely empty in sixty seconds.”

  Maya was about to protest, but he put his finger on her lips. “Shh,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER 27

  Maya shrieked as a thunderous explosion boomed across the water and the night sky lit up with color. The loudspeakers sounded “The Grand March” from Verdi’s Aida, the perfect choice, she thought. She was glad Mickey had insisted she come with him. But the deck was mobbed and they found themselves at the back of the crowd.

  Mickey handed her a bottle of champagne he had “borrowed” from a suffragi on his way out of the dining room and jumped up and down to see what everyone was looking at.

  “There’s a light show over the pyramids,” he reported. “But we’ll never see anything from here.” He scanned the area and pointed excitedly. “The poop deck!”

  “It’s off-limits,” Maya said. “See the ropes?”

  “To a reporter, that’s an invitation. Come. We’ll have a great view.”

  He took her hand and dragged her away from the crowd.

  “I think it’s this way,” she indicated toward the right, her excitement winning out over her concerns. “There must be a stairway.”

  Tracing a path along the side of the yacht, they found a narrow passageway chained off with a red sign that read Crew Only.

  “You’re a volunteer. That means you’re crew
today,” he stated and stepped over the chain. He turned back to give her a hand, but she refused it, preferring to manage herself.

  Lifting her dress slightly, she tried to raise a leg over, but found she’d have to hoist it way above the knee to climb over. Changing tactics, she crouched down to crawl under the chain, but the stairs blocked her way. Hmm? Before she could decide, Mickey picked her up and lifted her over the chain in one swift move, putting her down on the other side. He continued on, climbing two steps at a time, while she stood for an instant, feeling a little unsettled. His hands had come awfully close to her breasts as he lifted her, before they slid down to her waist again.

  “Are you coming?” he asked, already at the top of the stairway. “You’re a snail!”

  She hurried up and as she reached the top, a rocket exploded in the sky, sending thousands of red and green sparkles down the front and sides of the Sphinx. She gasped, as did the crowd below. It was as if the lion had come alive, roaring after thousands of years of sleep. She turned to share her excitement with Mickey. He was taking off his jacket.

  “Don’t put it on the deck,” she said. “It’s brand new.”

  He looked at her quizzically.

  “The pocket seams are still sewn up,” she said. “You forgot to pull the thread.”

  Embarrassed, he examined the pockets and grinned. Suddenly he cried, “Look!”

  She turned to see that the yacht had shifted position and a cascade of orange lights was falling like raindrops over the Great Pyramid of Khafre behind the Sphinx.

  Mickey spread his jacket on the deck with a gallant flourish, and they sat with their backs against a wall as a long series of explosions lit up Egypt’s most wondrous marvels, creating a virtual orgy for the eyes. Her mind, usually an endless train of obsessive thoughts, was now light and filled with delight. She smiled as if there would be no end to the bountiful offerings. Time was suspended.

  “I can’t think of anybody I’d rather see this with,” Mickey said.

  She tore her eyes away from the sky and glanced at him. He was looking at her so intensely that it made her look away.

  “Stop it!” she purred. But as she pushed his chin away, she gasped in surprise. A rocket exploded in the sky right above their heads, its red and green sparks coming down so close that she thought they would land on them. Mickey laughed with glee and slid down onto his back, his head tilted up toward the sky as a new series of explosions began. She followed suit and lay next to him, joining in his laughter as each explosion reverberated inside their bodies, the burning embers coming dangerously close to their faces. She raised her arm to protect herself, while he bravely faced the sparks, his excitement growing.

  “Green!” he shouted. And a green explosion ignited the sky.

  “Red!” she wagered. And a red one followed.

  “Red and pink,” he predicted, but it came up red and dark blue.

  “Yellow,” she shouted. But her winning streak had ended, too. A violet and green one with specks of orange lit up the sky. But the next one was yellow.

  “I think I know what the color of the grand finale will be,” he said as she buried her face against him for protection from the ashes. “And if I’m right, I get a kiss,” he declared, but she was too busy letting out shrieks of excitement to agree, as the following explosions, each one louder than the last, led her to burrow deeper into his chest. “We’re going to see all the colors of the rainbow at the same time,” he bet.

  The explosions that followed filled the entire sky and were so loud that they shook the boat. The finale finally came, illuminating the heavens in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Indeed the crescendo was a spectacular multicolor rainbow, leaving them in awe. And when everybody thought the show was over, one last rocket exploded, casting a green glow on Mickey’s face, illuminating his eyes, which had turned calm and tender.

  “That one was for the king,” she said, veering her eyes away, uncomfortable again with his gaze. “Green is his favorite color.”

  “Do I get my kiss?” he murmured.

  “Nope,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t take the bet.”

  “What about one for bringing you here?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, what about one for saving you from the king? He was targeting you for his next conquest.”

  “Nothing would have happened! What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  “The kind of girl who gives me a hard time.”

  “Fine.” She relented. She rose on her elbow and leaned over, giving him a small peck on the lips before lying back down again, straight as a soldier.

  “That’s it?”

  She let out a defeatist sigh. “Okay! But only because I’m a good-hearted person.” She leaned in again and pressed her lips against his for a brief kiss. He didn’t move his lips, not even slightly, and his eyes remained closed as he savored the kiss. She bent over and kissed him again, this time a bit longer, but he still didn’t respond. Then he opened his eyes and looked right into hers. He was systematically disarming her, and there was no escaping him this time. She let herself stare back in spite of the conflicting emotions inside her. She couldn’t possibly allow herself to fall for him. Having some fun was one thing, but those longing looks between them were quite another.

  As if reading her mind, he smiled gently and with the back of his hand caressed her cheek. She returned his smile, just a little, but enough to encourage him. He slowly sat up, and, taking her in his arms, cushioned her head with his forearm as he laid her down. Barely breathing, she lay immobile, knowing what was coming next as his face drew close to hers. She felt her spine stiffen, and he must have sensed it, too, because he urged her to relax. But how could she? Her life had been nothing but chaos for so long that she didn’t remember how to relax anymore. Any happy thoughts would inevitably be interrupted by images of Erik and Vati, and her mind was constantly churning. No, not this time, Maya, she told herself, taking a lungful of air and commanding herself to release her tension. She let her breath mingle with his as he leaned patiently suspended above her, waiting for a sign. She gave it to him by closing her eyes, and before she knew it she felt the tip of his tongue parting her lips. The moisture of it jarred her. They were intimate now. She wet her lips with her tongue as if to awaken her appetite and sighed. The sound of it echoed deep inside her, arousing her. She was ready to kiss him freely. She threw her arms around his neck and let her lips and tongue tell him how much she loved being with him tonight.

  They couldn’t stop kissing, and when they had to stop for air, they both smiled, embarrassed at their inability to let go of one another. When their mouths weren’t joined together, it was an eye or an ear or a cheek that had to be kissed. Time had disappeared again, and they forgot who they were and where they were. Slow kisses, hurried kisses, long ones, short ones—they tried them all, and each had its own luscious flavor, making them even hungrier for more.

  “This is crazy,” she finally said between breaths, rolling her head back.

  “It’s only crazy that we waited so long,” he said, shushing her with kisses on her throat. She felt his hand gliding up the side of her dress, starting at her thigh, going up to her waist, and pausing on her breast. She held her breath for an instant, wondering what he might do next, excited by his boldness. She tightened her grip around his neck as he pressed her breast gently while his tongue traced the length of her neck. She sighed, wanting him never to stop. But he did, letting go of her breast and coming up to meet her mouth again as he caressed her hair.

  “My pin!” she said, breaking the moment, remembering she was wearing her mother’s hairpin. She sat up and found that it had already slid to the end of her curl. “My mother’s,” she explained, finding herself suddenly jittery.

  The guests on the deck had gone back to the party now, and sounds of dance music filtered up from the dining room. They were completely alone. Mickey rolled over and lay on his back, his hands behind his head as the boat
rocked gently. There was only a crescent moon in the sky, but it was enough to illuminate the silhouettes of the pyramids and the palm trees and reeds on the shore. The setting couldn’t have been more lovely, but her mind was already gnawing at her.

  “I have to get back to my lemonade bar,” she said.

  “No, you don’t,” he said. “It’s an open bar. People can serve themselves.”

  He was right. Besides, what could they do to her for not being there?

  “Tell me more about yourself,” he said.

  The simple question caused her to panic. She began to rattle on, making up stories about how she had to take care of her infant brother, who was sick. She complained about how she always had to be the peacemaker between her younger sisters and brothers, who fought all the time, and how exhausted she was from having to play so many roles. She talked so fast that she didn’t allow Mickey to ask any questions, and when she was finished, she felt disgusted with herself. “I have to go,” she said and started to rise.

  “Come over here,” he said calmly, pulling her toward him.

  She resisted only slightly, allowing herself to lie down again.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, stroking her hair.

  “What do you mean?” she protested.

  “In here.” He tapped her head. “Your mind, I can always hear it buzzing.”

  “You won’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  She wouldn’t know where to begin even if she were to tell him the truth. “There is so much on my mind that I can hardly sleep,” she said. “I wake up in the morning and I don’t know what to expect. My life is so full of uncertainty. As you can see, I can never plan anything.”

  He placed a kiss on top of her head and put an arm around her. “Uncertainty is very difficult. Are you worried about where you’ll be living?” he probed.

  “Yes, of course. I can’t imagine living in the Sudan,” she said, unable to reveal that it was really Palestine she was thinking of. Why would a city girl like her want to live in a barren desert like Palestine, where immigrating lawyers and doctors were stripped of their professions and reduced to milking cows and working on farms?