TCOTNK Season 4.8
TCOTNK Season 4.8
Yeshe's turn to have an unexpected experience....
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back to chapter 4.7 (last weeks episode)
Chapter 10
Kay and Es had joined Jonnes on a quest through the nearby forest. Trying to find a supposed-to-be-there-lake. Yeshe walked past the house and through the bamboo-grove into the field. The red book Thalia had handed her, in one hand, an apple in the other. She had to be on her own for a while. To think. Or rather meditate.
It buzzed around her. Dragonflies flew their routes. Two eagles drifted in circles in the hot blue. It seemed like it was getting warmer every day, dryer. The downhill slope was dusty. The plants baked to a golden crisp. Life retreated to underground corridors, beneath thick stones, to the shaded covers of prickly undergrowth. Her head was too full. She was tired. Glad that the pressure was off: Michael was already at Orph, now she could spend another day or so doing research, lounging around with these lovely people and then head North herself. All that sounded very plausible and acceptable and relaxed and desirable. But a nervous restlessness she couldn't explain was spoiling the mood.
Back at the picnic cloth she dragged the city map into the shadows; a flat stone between a group of birches and settled there. Placing the apple on the left and the red book on the right, she assumed the lotus position and closed her eyes.
Then opened them again. She smelled herself. She reeked of sweat and unwashed crotch. Even the faint sour smell of vomit was lingering. She’d been walking around in the same boring outfit for days now. Well-adjusted to the acceptable average. Unobtrusive and lacking character and colour. Off the shelf packaging. Yeshe stood up irritated. There wasn't enough water in this wasteland. She wanted a swim, a shower, or a downpour. She wanted to scrub her skin clean in the cold water of the pebbled beach behind her house. She wanted to walk through the garden to check the beans, snack on whatever was ripe and at its peak. She wanted to milk the goat, make kefir and cheese, be in the coolness of the mud cellar, and have a nap in the tree-house. She missed the smells of her place. The uncivilised ways. The intense honesty. And yes, her desire to continue with the research was strong. Guarding Michael and radically following the inner lead were distracting and engaging enough to keep going. But she also had to keep her distance for a good view and at the same time dive right in to really get it. An impossible split.
The unrest drove her back to the studio. Thalia lay curled up on the sofa, sleeping. Inside, it was a lot cooler than outside but Yeshe didn't want to be inside. What did she want then? She felt grumpy. Where did that come from? Not that it mattered because she was, of course, allowed to kick a grand piano now and then, or pull over a bookcase or two. In her imagination, she could. Nothing wrong with that. But even not knowing why she felt like this, annoyed her to bits right now. Why?
Her eye fell on a piece of clothing from Michael's collection. He’d used something that resembled leather but was very thin. She looked at Thalia, who slept soundly, and thought, I can quickly try it on. She started taking off her walking shoes. Then threw off her shirt and dropped her pants. The smell levitating from her socks was phenomenal. She sniffed her armpit. Intoxicating. She shouldn't get into those nice clothes like this.
Yeshe tiptoed on her soggy soles to the fire truck. At least she could have the decency to have the overdue clean-up first, while everyone was out, and filled a small bucket with Daardaar’s water and pattered back to the play-mat unclothed, sloshing bucket and carwash sponge at the ready.
The water was so delightful. And you really didn't need a running shower or a whole bath. She brushed herself attentively. Under her arms, her neck, the pinch lines of bra and underwear, crotch and buttocks. And then another round. Slowly soaking her skin. The slight breeze cooling her. The temperature in her head dropped. Her skin became hers again. She slowly poured the lukewarm remainder right on the top of her head. The water film seemed to take everything with. Not just the smell, but especially the accumulated tension of the past days, the long hours of travel, the slight envy she felt towards Thalia. She could feel it drain away. The water splashed on the thick stone, ran off and sank into the earth.
But there was no towel. Had she lost it along the way? Shame. Well, she’d dry quickly enough without it. Washing outside definitely was one of the most underrated pleasures. And towels were overrated anyway.
Her head was clearer now. The slope seemed less hot now. She was thinking about the phone call. What bothered her most, she realised, was that suddenly her drive seemed to be gone. Michael had arrived at Orph. He is here, and you do not have to worry about him any more, we will take over from here. That's what it had sounded like. And she didn't want that. Everything in her resisted that. Why?
She knew those signals and had learned to take them seriously, to act on them. Even if she didn't yet understand where they came from.
Yeshe found sage, a large shrub, and unzipped a handful of leaves, crushed them, and rubbed herself with the fragrant pulp. She loved the comforting scent. It cleared her head even further, waking up her gratitude. And what could possibly be wrong with smelling like potato salad?
Now that she had run the conversation with Sapi through her mind a few times, that was what stood out the most. Besides the fact that it had been a monologue, Sapi had not listened or asked anything, only talked. Did she already know Michael? How had he endured two hundred kilometres of continuous cycling on that scooter? How did he get gas without money? Did he have friends there? Why did it stick in her mind that Michael was actually driving south instead of towards Orph? And then that last sentence, which had sounded like a mysterious clue, a hint. Greetings to the new one. Hug the barrel. Why? Was it just a relaxing way to say goodbye? Or did she really expect me to send her greetings? The invisible. And who was who in that riddle? Was that barrel, Jonnes? How did she even know about the four of them? Also through him? Did he report? Was he the feedback loop for Sapi? And what else did Jonnes know? The widow's new one? The muse? Or was the crone actually giving her a break? A time-out. Allowing her to breathe for a moment before the storm really started?
She was almost dry. Time to put some clothes on. She hadn't felt this confused in a long time. That why-question turned everything upside down. Asking why was an innocent-seeming method to destroy even the very best thing. Why killed poetry. Why broke playing. Why poisoned the moment. Why was an insult. Why was perpetually poking holes in everything real. The meaningless was not the world and everything in it, but the question of why. Why itself was the most nonsensical thing. There is no why. Curious children bombarded their parents with never-ending why-questions as soon as they mastered the language. Then you had to come up with explanations. In no time, you were getting yourself into trouble with all the nonsense you came up with. And the final answer was always; Just because. Just because is the unsatisfactory conclusion of the why of humanity’s construct. Just because, just because, just because.
Yeshe thought about Kay and relaxed a little. She was back at the flat stone and straightened the play mat. The city on the carpet at her feet was not a maze to get lost in. It was just a playground. No more and no less.
She sat down. And looked at the apple. Took the little sticker off. It was a bad apple. It shone too hard due to a bath of synthetic wax and aging protection. The peel contained the remains of a poison cocktail. The form was filtered through fascist judgements of beautiful and ugly, of pure and impure. Its taste adapted to a non-existent mean-spirited average. The seeds in there preferably barren. The variety owned by an inhuman being who demanded money for every facet of an apple that could only be a gift. The beautiful fruit was contaminated by a whole system of production. This apple was a product in the shape of an apple made by a machine. A mock apple. An improved version of a perfect gift that had been perfect all along.
She sunk her teeth into it. I accept the gift, she stated with her mouth full. Yeshe tried to let the thought in as fully as possible, mumbling, I accept the apple as it is, with all the added misery, with all the original taste. I accept the fruit. I am the fruit. I accept myself. I accept.
It was mediocre at best. Bland. She was giggling at her criticism. Threw the core away, wishing it would turn into a tree, into a forest, and took a few deep breaths. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the silence. Let it come in.
She vanished almost immediately. The space of the place sucked her in. The fluttering and buzzing of summer, blended with patterns that were slowly undulating around her. Reflective metallic colours. Iridescent shapes filling the air. She looked up. The movement of the sky was a complex inner aurora of curls and waves and evolving forms. Dancing paths of self-caressing softness. Simultaneously dark and light. Weaving back and forth. Figures came closer and mingled with the scents. The sage on her skin dissolved into the air touching her skin. The wriggling long fingers of the radiating sphere she was expanding into, helped her outer boundary to dissolve. And suddenly, her body responded in obedience. A first wave of deep reward came as an explosion of light. It welled up in her chest and lifted her off the ground. It was almost too much, more than she needed, and it kept coming in a raging abundance that expanded her being from within outward. She dissolved in a spreading cloud of brilliance. And just was.
With a startle, she sat back on the stone, such a rapid contraction, her skin tight with excitement. Breathlessly, she registered the aftershocks of an orgasm. Her skin, her sex, her eyes were all wet. She rubbed the tears from her eyes with stiff, uneasy fingers.
“Gee.”
Thalia stood watching her. Her look was a complicated mixture of feelings.
Yeshe laughed shyly. Also felt like a spectator to a certain extent. She was naked. So what? She had just had the most massive climax ever, and it was still dripping. So what?
“That was so beautiful,” Thalia whispered.
Yeshe lifted her arms and shouted at the sky.
“Waaaaaaah!”
Thalia laughed.
“Yes indeed. That's a good word for it. My turn now?”
Yeshe couldn't stop laughing and just nodded. Yes, Yes, Yes.
Thalia swallowed, seemed to weigh the options for a moment, but kept her clothes on anyway. She was the first to get back to business as usual. She picked up the bucket, took Yeshe’s hand and tugged her along towards the studio.
"We're wrong," she said.
Yeshe had difficulty switching gears.
“Meaning?”
“Well, how we are thinking about that book. With us trying to find answers. You know, Michael's quest is a strange combination of flight and search. Does he even know what he's looking for? How can we find it for him then? Michael is not in on the secret of that book. It is not in his notes. And now we compose some nice story out of it all and lose him in the process. I don't have to find out where he's going. I already know. My gut knows. And I want to go there too.”
Thalia pulled open the heavy glass door for Yeshe.
"After you."
Her eyes were scanning the naked woman. Yeshe saw her own pale skin with unevenly tanned arms in the glass facade's reflection. She’d forgotten for a moment not wearing anything.
“I'm not particularly attracted to women, but what a scrumptious body you have.”
Yeshe entered the studio in front of Thalia, barely knowing how to place her feet. Blushing up to her ears.
“I was dirty and didn't feel at home in my clothes any more.”
Thalia laughed.
“I know exactly how you feel. Do you think I can also have a bucket of that exact same water?”
She pulled down her skirt, stepped out of it, and held it up.
“Also not really my favourite piece of clothing, but the only one available presently.”
She also undressed completely. Placed the blouse neatly over the back of the sofa. Stuffed her underwear into the bucket.
“If you add your laundry too, we can distill women's elixir from this. Instant healing for every guy.”
She disappeared to the car, leaving Yeshe behind.
The dress, or whatever the piece was, was waiting. She could wear that, but she would look like a sex-goddess. It concealed almost nothing. She slid in. It was too spacious, too amorph. Definitely not what she expected. A kind of pregnancy canopy in which her nipples appeared to be tent poles. She walked outside to look at herself in the large window.
"Hey, I already had my eye on that."
Thalia stood behind the fire extinguisher drying herself with the blue towel.
"Well, this is totally not me, so…."
Thalia came closer.
“You have to tie these cords behind here, and you can tie a knot in that one shoulder. Then let your hair down. Get rid of that tired braid.”
She was fumbling. Yeshe didn't like that at all. Clothing had to fit comfortably. Not be asymmetrical.
“If you now mount a horse, with the right headdress, and keep your tits fiercely pointing at the distant horizon, mighty Vikings will come to your aid.”
She turned Yeshe to the dark window, arched Yeshe's lower back with a push, and lifted her chin.
“Wow, girl. Shall I bow to you? I am your naked slave. So to speak, of course.”
Yeshe almost did not recognise herself in the dark glass mirror. Together with the fully tanned woman next to her, it seemed an image from ancient times.
Thalia crouched to better drape the full skirt and looked up.
“You know what, we'll go to that festival together. This whole gang of us. If the others agree, we'll just leave asap. Confession and apology, I already called, by the way, sorry. On your phone."
“Called?”
“Yes, my hairdresser, to tidy up your hair a bit, if you don't mind?"
"Your hairdresser?"
Thalia stood and looked at herself in the glass while dancing.
“Yes, who is also my downstairs neighbour. She agreed to pick up the tent, some clothes and deplete all of my hedge-funds. And since she wants to come along too, I now have my own transport company and will not be too close for comfort with you and Es in the fire truck. Of course, we can also do it alone, but I would love to go together, don't know, feels like it should be. Determinatioso. Total nonsense, of course, but I thought you wanted to go there anyway. You belong there with that divine pre-medieval head of yours. And I can see Es and Kay romping around there. The little guy can be a cherub on a stick and his mother completes us women to a ferocious fabulous four in my humblest of opinions. What d'ya think, am I completely off grid? Was it awful to use your phone? I haven't trampled on some safety protocol, have I, with my big bare feet?'
Yeshe smiled at the endless stream of words.
“Have you finished?”
“Hm, mm.”
The naked girl zipped her lips shut and threw the key over her shoulder.
"And you arranged all that in those ten minutes?"
Thalia looked very guilty and dangerously sweet.
"Actually, more while you were busy orbiting the earth on your flying carpet."
"When is that girlfriend of yours coming?"
"Uh, her name is Audny, and she has already dropped by, with two friends."
Yeshe looked around.
“Yes, you were off-line, and they didn't want to spoil the fun. The two friends were deeply impressed.
"Did everyone see me sitting there!?"
“It did look beautifully intense...."
Thalia couldn't hold a straight face.
‘….just kidding, we met her at the roadside. The universe and I were the sole witnesses, I swear, and will keep it strictly confidential until I die. Gee, you're acting like I caught you masturbating or something. It was beautiful, dear, don't worry.”
Yeshe did feel a bit like that. She registered the strong woman's initiative as a loss of control. Unpleasant, but not especially bad. Thalia had put into words what she had felt all along. Yeshe looked at the sun, had she really been out for that long?
“I'm hungry," she said.
"No wonder it's been seven hours since that bowl of oatmeal, you should drink something to compensate for all that fluid loss."
The bully gave her a nasty wink.