by Brey Willows
Tis shrugged into the wonderfully oversized robe and followed Kera into the kitchen. “So, what are we having?”
Kera opened the fridge, and Tis started laughing at how packed full it was. “Good god, woman. Do they think they’re feeding an army?”
“They’re always prepared. You never know when I might decide to throw a party, or have over a guest in desperate need for sex-fuel.” She riffled through the contents of the fridge, piling things into her arms. Setting them all on the counter, she said, “Be prepared. You’re going to have the most amazing Mexican breakfast burritos ever.”
“Give me some chopping to do then.” Tis slid a razor-sharp knife from a rack and brandished it.
“Hey now. You said death didn’t have to follow orgasms.” Kera gave her a teasing smile and handed her a chopping board.
“Believe me, I wouldn’t need a knife if I wanted to kill you off.”
Kera looked at her with her eyebrows raised.
“What? I wouldn’t. You’ve seen me work, haven’t you?”
Kera broke several eggs, then added milk to fluff them. Paprika, cumin, cilantro, and garlic salt followed. “Not really, no. I’m usually escaping by the time you get there, and I have to move it to stay alive. I have to admit, though, as terrifying as you look when you’re working, you’re also unbearably beautiful.”
Tis felt herself blush and concentrated on chopping the green bell peppers. “Well, trust me when I say I wouldn’t need a weapon. I am a weapon.”
She continued chopping when Kera stopped to answer her phone. She cradled it between her ear and her shoulder as she continued cooking.
“Hey, Ajan.” She listened as she expertly chopped fresh cilantro and added it to sizzling sausage. “Yeah, I can do that. Tell them I’ll be down this afternoon, and if they need anything specific, get a list and get it over to them.”
She hung up and looked at Tis apologetically. “You know, I’ve never been so bothered by having to cut a date short to go to work.”
“Problems?”
“There are always problems, but I have a lot of people to help deal with them. The one today is close to home, though. I set up a soup kitchen in Tent City a few years ago, and it’s been going really well. It’s staffed on a rotating basis by the people who use it. It gives them some work they can do and provides help to the community they’ve built there. I don’t often have to do anything, but Ajan says there’s some tension down there, with fights breaking out, and the kitchen needs some backup. I need to go check it out.”
Tis thought about it. She and her sisters had to go to Tent City, Los Angeles’s largest homeless community on Skid Row, periodically. The unrest of being homeless combined with mental health issues and addictions often led to violence. Tis hated having to serve justice there. As though things weren’t hard enough for the people as it was. Yet, the rules were the rules, and they’d followed them for thousands of years. They weren’t going to stop now.
“I don’t suppose you’d go with me?” Kera carefully poured the eggs into the sizzling pan. “Maybe after we could go grab dinner in Hollywood or something?”
“I’m not exactly popular in Tent City.”
Kera acknowledged the point. “I get that. But if you go with me, in…what do you call it? Your more human-like appearance?”
“I’ve never given it a name, really. I know my sister Alec calls it her daily appearance.”
“Boring, but okay, we’ll go with that. If you go in your daywear, and you’re there with me to help people instead of punish them, they won’t even know it’s you, will they?” She placed tortillas over the open flame on the burner, flipping them quickly as they warmed and browned around the edges. She put them on warm plates and sprinkled diced green chilies over them before scooping the egg mixture into the middle.
Tis thought about it. It was strange how many homeless people saw easily through the veil. But then, they didn’t have to hide anymore. Would it look like a different place if she approached it differently herself? “Yes. Okay, I’d like that. But if people get weird around us, I’m going to leave. There’s no point in me ruining the good work you’re trying to do by getting people riled up.”
“Fair point. Now, be prepared to taste the most amazing thing you’ve had in your mouth since…me, a few hours ago.”
* * *
After breakfast, Tis flew to her home in Laguna to get more appropriate clothes, since the others were in tatters in the gazebo anyway, while Kera made some calls and did some work. She’d been so busy with her projects in other countries, she’d let the one in her hometown slip. It was time to rectify that.
Two hours later, Tis knocked on the front door, and she opened it herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt grateful a woman had bestowed their time on her, but right now, she was ready to drop to her knees in thanks.
“Ready to go?” Tis asked.
“Let’s do it. You look great.” And she did. Simple jeans that fit her lithe body perfectly were teamed with a basic gray T-shirt that matched her lovely eyes.
Kera, dressed in a similar outfit of T-shirt and jeans, grabbed her keys. “Taking a taxi is best, if you’re okay with that? Showing up in my car seems like a bad idea on a whole host of levels. But if you’d be more comfortable…”
Tis shook her head. “I’ve been in places worse than Skid Row, as have you. But I had a thought about it. If we take my car, I can make it so no one sees it. It’s a little trick we have, and it also moves a lot faster than your car, or a taxi, so it won’t take us the full hour to get there. And that way we’ve got a way to go to dinner later.”
The benefits of dating a nonhuman. Who knew? “Great. Let’s do it.” She stepped outside and whistled at Tis’s Range Rover. “Nice. I love the glass tops on these. And what a great color.”
“We do so much traveling in them, it’s good to be comfortable. The color is Aintree Green. I wanted it to feel more…earthy, I suppose.” They got in and headed toward LA. “Tell me about your soup kitchen.”
Kera thought about it. “I started it about five years ago, not long after I got back from…well, from a bad situation. I wanted to do something local, and that was a quick and easy thing to do. I actually have bigger plans, lots of investing I want to do in the area, but I’ve been focused on the other major projects, and to be honest, I’ve let this one slide.”
“It happens.” Tis rested her hand on Kera’s leg. “There are so many places that need help in the world.”
“Jesus, isn’t that the truth?” She covered Tis’s hand with her own, loving the way it felt so cool, different from her own, but sexy just the same. “But really, I need to work it out. Homelessness jumped twelve percent in LA in the last two years alone. The estimated homeless numbers in the city are over twenty thousand now, nearly fifty thousand countywide.”
Tis shook her head, looking sad. “That’s so horrendous in a country with so much wealth and opportunity. What are your plans?”
“I’ve been looking into building permanent housing. There are a lot of abandoned buildings, and I’m working out how to turn them into livable spaces. I want to start a back-to-work program, offering job skills and mental health services. The thing is, I tried it on a small scale a few years ago, and it didn’t go well. In return for providing the services, I required them to donate some time to the shelter or program they were using, or to one of the kids’ programs. You wouldn’t believe how many people were pissed off they had to do something in return. It’s made me rethink how I approach it and how it’ll be decided who gets apartments. Do they get them forever? Do I charge some kind of minimum? One thing I’ve learned is that people rarely appreciate something they get for free.” She sighed, the weight of it heavy on her mind.
“That’s a lot of decisions to make. Have you asked for help?”
“That’s the other problem. City officials just want the homeless gone, as though it’s an issue of cleaning house. But when it comes to the paperwork, th
ey want every damn possibility accounted for, and as you know, you can’t always anticipate what’s going to happen in situations like this.”
“Maybe it’s not the City you should be asking for help. Maybe it’s the residents themselves, the people using your services. Create a way for them to tell you what they need and how it might work.”
Kera was so used to making things happen, to having total control and figuring things out, she hadn’t even considered that option. She started mulling over the possibilities.
“We’re here.” Tis rolled to a stop and parked just beyond where a long row of tents began.
“Damn. You weren’t kidding about it going faster. That wasn’t even twenty minutes.”
“It was twelve, actually.” Tis grinned and leaned over for a kiss.
Kera held Tis’s face in her hands as she kissed her. “I’m really glad you came.”
“Me too. Let’s go.”
They walked past the rows and rows of tents that lined the sidewalk of the busy street. People milled around, some lying or sitting outside their tent, others in groups on the corners. Beyond the smell of urine and human desperation, there was the sense of resignation. Wary men, women, and children watched them walk by, and not a single one asked for spare change or even spoke to them. These weren’t just the homeless, they were the Tent City homeless, some who had been there for years, even decades. They passed the Skid Row city limits mural painted on a wall, “Population: too many,” stark white against the green background.
When they neared the soup kitchen, Tis took Kera’s hand, and she saw the slight reddening of Tis’s eyes. If she was a cat, her fur would be up. Kera looked around to try to see what Tis saw, and she felt it instead. The air was warm with tension, and instead of looking wary, the mass of people around them seemed angry, aggressive. They went inside, and the large woman behind the counter looked like she was going to cry with relief.
“You’re a damn sight for sore eyes, woman.” She came around and gave Kera a massive hug. “It’s been a long-ass time.”
“I know it has. I’m really sorry, Spice. This is my friend Tisera. What’s going on?”
Spice gave Tis a nod before turning back to Kera. “You know how bad things have been the last few years. Lots of promises and no help, even though the politicians are talking a storm.”
Kera nodded, feeling guilty. “Are they still raiding and giving out fines?”
“Not so much. But now that there’s all this foolishness with God showing up, people are getting rattled.”
“Why is that? If I may ask,” Tis said, looking worried.
“Damn near every one of those people out there are religious. They’ve been praying since the moment they made it here, for some kind of help. When you don’t know if God is listenin’, you keep talking. But when you know he can hear you, and he’s not doing a damn thing to help? Well, people start thinkin’ there’s no reason to keep livin’. No reason to pray anymore, because God’s only payin’ attention to specific people, and the thousands of people here? That’s not them.”
“So people are getting angry.” Kera pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking. “Understandable. What do you need from me tonight?”
“I need food. Lots of it. Your people delivered some, but it’s about half of what I need for the next two weeks. And I need you to come through.” She touched Kera’s arm. “The gods aren’t listening, and that was a lot of people’s only hope. Now, it may be you’re the only one who can keep this place from imploding.”
Tis looked outside and turned back to Spice. “We had a thought on the way here, about how to move forward.” She looked at Kera expectantly.
“Right. Here’s what we’re thinking. I have the means to make big changes here. Places for people to live, training, all that stuff. But I don’t know how to go about it. You know how it went last time.”
Spice scoffed. “Like a fly trying to have gills and swim in the ocean, baby.”
“Exactly. So, what would you think about bringing together a group of people, maybe people who are considered leaders here, and getting them to help me figure out how to help? Five or six, including you.”
Spice stared at the wall over Kera’s head, clearly thinking. “Yeah. I think that might work. I can spread the word, talk to a few people. When do you want to do it?”
Kera pictured her rainbow wall of projects, mentally scanning the dates. “Two weeks from now. Let’s meet here, after closing time. I trust you to choose the right people, so don’t worry about asking me.” She gave her a hug. “I’ll have the rest of the food you need delivered tomorrow, and if you’ll create a serious, month-long list of what you want, I’ll make sure you get it. In fact, make a list of stuff you need every month, no matter what, and I’ll make sure it’s a standing order you can add to whenever you need to. Okay?”
Spice nodded, tears in her eyes. “I knew you’d come back around.”
Kera felt awful for letting it go this long, guilt fluttering inside her like a trapped moth. “I won’t let it slide again, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”
They left, and Tis stopped to look out over the dirty, graffiti covered streets. “How can we expect humanity to evolve, to behave better toward one another, when they continue to allow their fellow beings to live this way? I’ve never understood it, not in any country this happens in.”
“I agree. But I also think Spice has a damn good point about the gods. It’s a time bomb waiting to go off.”
Tis sighed. “I know. I can feel it, everywhere I go. People are behaving, because now they know an afterlife really is a possibility. But the longer their needs go unmet, especially in places like this, the more they’re going to become disillusioned and angry. My sisters and I just talked about it the other day.” She took Kera’s hand, and they started back toward the car. “I’m not sure how it’s going to work out.”
“You see why I don’t subscribe to religion? That group, Humanity First. I think they’ve got a point, Tisera. What use are the gods when people are still living like this?” Irrational though it was, she felt as though Tis came from the very group disappointing people all over the world. “Why should they be allowed to interfere, to demand devotion, when all it comes down to is narcissism and greed? What right do they have to judge us if they can’t help us?”
When Tis looked at her, she saw a bone-chilling sadness in her eyes.
“I don’t have the answers, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the next steps are, or what to tell people.”
“Well, maybe people should be allowed to live and work without hoping some deity is going to save them. Maybe the immortals should go back to where they came from, and leave the rest of us alone.” Surrounded by vast numbers of lost humans and feeling utterly overwhelmed, Kera tried to keep her anger and frustration from coming out. But she wasn’t one for hiding her emotions, and the toxic combination of guilt and helplessness threatened to make her say something she’d regret. “I think I need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry.” She hailed a passing cab and got in. “I’ll call you.”
As the cab drove away, she saw Tis in the side view mirror, standing in front of her invisible car, looking for all the world like one of the lost. Kera closed her eyes and her stomach dropped. What have I done?
Chapter Twelve
This morning, the first Peace Convention was held at the Israeli West Bank Barrier. Tens of thousands of people from both sides of the heavily war torn area came together when the Christian God, the Prophet Mohammed, and the God of the Jews showed up together. When the area was full, they took turns telling their followers it was time to stop committing violence in the name of religion. They acknowledged that although there are differences between them, the one thing they all stand against is violence against one another. In an astounding move, as a unit they actually demolished the entire wall, which now stands as a four-hundred-and-fifty-mile pile of cement and barbed wire rubble. They have instructed their followers to discontinue their violence and l
earn to live as a human community, accepting that individuals may believe differently, but what land they reside on has nothing to do with whom they pray to. In another astonishing move, they’ve decreed, again as a triumvirate, that anyone committing suicide bombings or the like, for any reason, will be forfeiting their souls and will be sent to each religion’s version of Hell.
Government officials have yet to respond to this unprecedented and highly unorthodox intrusion into what was, to some, a secular division.
Will peace prevail? Or will human politics simply create chaos under another guise? Stay tuned here for all our breaking news.”
Tis flipped the TV off despite the broadcaster’s instructions. She’d shut herself in at home for two days, mulling over Kera’s words along with her own feelings. Kera had a right to say what she did, and her feelings weren’t all that far off from what Tis had been feeling for some time. The division between humans and gods was too enormous, and humans were too far gone to help. She hadn’t thought about the failings of the gods, not in the way Kera said. But now, the newscast put an entirely new spin on things. With the gods speaking directly to their followers and making extremely clear where they stood, wars all over the world had virtually ceased. As humans listened to their deities, as bombs stopped dropping on their homes, the world was changing drastically. So, while Kera was right, and there was still too much poverty and too much suffering, there were also immense changes for the good happening. Maybe it will just take time. Can the world really be better? She thought back to the early days, when there were fewer major belief systems. The gods had behaved terribly, created by the humans in the image of the humans, with every fatal flaw and noble virtue exemplified to the nth degree. But over the centuries, they’d developed some autonomy, come into their own, to some extent. By working together and using the contract slowly coming along, they could do things like they’d done in Israel and Palestine.