Chapter Nineteen
Suddenly Nudjia stood in front of my face.
“Hi love, this is Who,” I said.
She beamed us her sunny smile and sat down on the floor next to my chair.
Then the others walked around the corner, all looking a bit shaken. I introduced them to Who.
“The prriest tolt us the whole storry,” Nudjia said. “Everry little bit. The testing, the guarrts, the camps and the isolation.”
Mark leaned against the wooden pole holding the porch’s roof, his arms around Lucy’s waist. They both looked tired. Louis simply sat down in the dust.
We desperately needed a bath.
Who scuffled her feet in the sand as if she was thinking of something she might want to tell us, something she’d held back.
She touched my hand and said: “There’s one more thing I didn’t tell you and I guess the priest didn’t either. We never wanted a police-force in town. But we got one now, sort of. So as to show us they did care about our wellbeing, the state bought an empty house just outside our town’s perimeters. It’s quite rundown - you’ll pass it when you’ll leave the village. That’s where our so called guards live. Not that we need them. We’ve got nothing worth stealing. Not anymore …. Also the rumor of possible radiation helps to keep outsiders away. We practically got no crime here. And the little everyday problems we solve for ourselves like we did for over a hundred years. But the government had to show some presence. After all they couldn’t let those Japs handle things on their own now could they? So in the seventies they bought this rundown place and put a couple of officers in there. A perfect excuse to keep an eye on us. From time to time they change the team, but we stopped counting. We don’t really know them. From what I’ve heard they just watch TV or sleep away the hours, maybe both.
“Like I said, we never claimed their services, not even for the stolen egg. But as the weeks went by we understood this one was too big for us. Then, as we started thinking about asking the police for help, this strange customer turned up at my grandparents’ barbershop. He and his monkey caused quite a stir there yesterday. After all that we’d been through lately, this one was the one that did it. I decided we had suffered enough over the years so I went over and called on them for help.”
Who got all excited telling her story.
“The place resembles a junkyard. Never seen anything like it. It took me a while to get over that first impression but when I finally did get over it, I entered the house to look for the officers. They were sitting in front of a huge TV-screen, feasting on chips and beer. I decided not to think about the mess, took a deep breath and told them the story with the monkey. The whole situation had gotten me so angry that I completely forgot about our priest.
“The one called Sarge, obviously the senior officer, took immediate action. As if being stung by some bug, he jumped off the sofa, instantly changed into some kind of battle gear, took his partner, drove over to the guy with the monkey and chased them out of town.”
“Oh yeah, we met them monkeys all right,” Louis said, intensely eyeing Lucy and me.
He’d obviously forgotten we’d already settled our fight.
“But why am I telling you this,” Who said. “You look so tired. We can talk later. You probably want to refresh yourselves. I suggest you split in two groups. I told Damon you can stay overnight. You need to sleep at different places, though. Our houses are too small to put you all in one place. Nudjia and Damon will stay here with me. I’ll show the others around. After you’ve all taken a shower, we’ll meet back here for dinner, o.k.? Mom loves to have visitors and she’s a fantastic cook.”
“Here,” she said, handing me a basket, “let me take care of your dirty clothes. We’ll wash them overnight so everything will be dry by morning. Now the others come with me. I’ll show you a place to stay.”
“Thanks Who,” Louis said. “But I think it’s better if I sleep in the bus, in case Tiko needs anything. By the way, he’s feeling much better - and growing back to his old size.”
Of course Who didn’t understand a word.
“Tiko is another friend,” I said. “I’ll tell you the story over dinner, o.k.?”
“But if he’s not feeling well, Grandpa can help him get better.”
I strongly questioned Tiko accepting Pops’ visions.
“Thanks Who,” Louis said. “He’s doing fine, you’ll see. A nice dinner will do him good.”
Lucy and Mark went with Who while Louis walked over to the bus to get Tiko.
All those eggs had made me completely forget about him. I was so happy that Louis hadn’t and had taken care of him. I hadn’t seen much of Wild Cloud, either. But I didn’t want to start guessing where that one was off to. It was a good sign that Tiko was finally growing back to his normal height. I’d had too many of these deformed folks around lately.
As the others had left, I opened the thin door to Who’s house and stepped inside, followed by Nudjia. Pops had finished his gymnastics and sat on a sofa staring at Bruce Lee kicking his opponents’ balls up their lungs, all the while wildly moving his arms about. His farting had stopped. Probably out of gas.
“Dear Sir, your granddaughter invited us in. Thank you so much for having us.”
He kept on kicking air. Maybe misplaced his hearing-aid.
“Aow, c’mon in,” a woman in her fifties, a little bigger than Who yelled from the kitchen. “And don’ pay any attensjon ta him ova thea’. Once Bruce’s kickin’ butts, Pops done forget about the world. Ahm Who’s mom,” she said as she stretched out her hand.
Nudjia went over and shook it.
Who’s Mom instantly pulled her to her bosom and held her tight.
“Eeh, my name is Nudjia, and this herrre is my boyfrrriend Damon,” Nudjia said trying to free an arm from the grip to point at me. Moving had become almost impossible for her. As if they were the best of friends. As Nudjia told the woman parts of her story, both started crying twin waterfalls.
“Damon, m..my Damon!” Nudjia stammered. “This voman, I rrecognize herr voice. She once came overr to the twins. I thought she was looking forr herr daughterr orr so. Borris and Ivan laughed at herr, but she didn’t carre. She knew vhat she vanted. She knew they verre hiding girrls. Vhen they passed my cellarr, she called to me to hold on. She was so brrave.”
“Yeah, Ah knew them Russians had sumpthin’ dark going on over thea, but Ah never imagined anythang like she done tol’ me just now.”
She sounded like any hard bred Texan. With a face like the sun she beamed sparkles everywhere. Perfectly round. The priest probably was her biggest fan. You couldn’t help but feel good in her presence.
“Come on inta mah kitchen. Ah’ll prepare y’ all a nice meal,” she said while pulling a huge wok out from under one of the cupboards.
“Sahrry, Ah forgot, yo’ wanted to take a showa first. Who tol’ me. It’s right over theah, jest behin’ the door.”
I’ve never seen such a midget shower in my life. It was stuck in between some trunk and the wall at the back of the kitchen, taking so little space that it almost looked like an airtight suit. I returned to watch Ma Who cooking as Nudjia pressed herself into the tiny compartment. But I couldn’t resist a quick peek at Nudjia’s sexy wet butt sticking to the plastic before I shut the door. It looked nice and round, like a pair of giant peaches framed by the wallpaper’s huge pink and yellow flowers.
“Ah, it’s a bi’ small in theah,” Who’s Mom said and smiled. “Yo’ could help out a little wif the preparashaun. Hea’ yo’ got some onions ta chop. And when yo’re done wi’ thet yo’ can go get the rahce, in thet chinah box unner the cupboard.”
I took one of the huge wooden boards to chop the onions on. The knife she handed me was even bigger. It looked like it had been made to chop off boars’ heads. While I was busy slicing my onions, she severed the meat from the bones, cut up all kinds of vegetables I didn’t even know the name of. Chop, chop, chop, little pieces flying through the kitchen like flies. Then she circumcised all kinds of sausages. PANG, PATCH, some tiny drops of water spat in the wok’s burning oil. As she saw that I had finished the onions, she came over singing a little jazz tune, took the huge board as if it it was just a feather and threw the onions in the oil to fry, causing them to rattle like machine guns firing into a brick wall. Then she put in all the rest and some sauces. It smelled delicious.
I got the rice. The water was already cooking and steaming in a big pot next to the wok. The room was damp. I thought about needing windshield wipers.
Nudjia stepped out of the shower clad like the chicken workers: one drape covering her hips and the other one delicately hiding her breasts. She stood in the middle of the damp heat with just a light bulb shining on her head. Lovely belly. Not too thin, but still muscular and curvy, mmmmh.
Now it was my turn to press myself into the shower container. It felt like canned fish. But the hot water felt good and thinking about both the food and Nudjia made me hurry for the feast. After a short while I dried off with the towel hanging from a butcher pin on the door. The wet cotton still smelled of Nudjia. In the board next to the shower Who’s mom had stored the drapes. I put one around my waist, waited a little for my dick to grow smaller and went over to the kitchen.
The others were already seated at the table. Tiko was back! I went over to hug him.
“Great to have you back, Tiko,” I said.
He was almost back to his original size. He still had a small drape wrapped around his head, but overall he looked quite well.
For an answer he smiled like Buddha - not a word. Although I had expected some remark on our outfit or whatever, I cannot say that the lack of reaction bothered me. In fact it even took some pressure off me for constantly having to apologize for his blabber and rather plump behavior.
The way everybody was sitting around the table made me think of da Vinci’s The Last Supper. Postcard edition. Mom had one framed next to the bed. I wondered if t’ai chi Pops could pose for an older version of a balding Jesus. He did have the swing. (I hope I’m not offending any over-sensitive readers here with my blasphemous thoughts.)
As I walked towards Nudjia I threw a quick glance over her naked shoulders past her collarbone. Nice view. She turned her head and innocently took my hand. I sat down next to her and we kissed. Just a little, as an appetizer. Who handed her Mom the empty plates as she filled them with the most delicious smelling food. We were starving; nobody said a word.
It felt like being in another world. The little kitchen with the huge table, the damp smell of the herbs, the fragile walls and the wooden poles holding the thing together. And Pops spreading out his arms. Not bad for a start.
“Yo’ geah ’head, yo’all fill th’m empty bellies!” Who’s mom said as her smile flashed through the haze.
While feasting, we each took turns telling our story. From time to time she smiled at Nudjia as if repeating how glad she was that things had turned out well. The evening got cozy and long.
I wasn’t able to hold on until it’d be my turn to tell the story. I had fallen asleep long before that. My head was resting in Nudjia’s lap when I awoke to Ma Who’s wishing us good night.
“Purty ones, now yo’all hev’ ah naice sleep en’ swee’ dreams!”
Who had arranged sleeping places for everyone. Nudjia and me stayed with her Mom. They had another small room - or better a storage with a mattress - in the back of the house, between the two bedrooms and the shower. But it was fine with us. We were dead-tired anyway. We undressed in near dark. I watched Nudjia’s outlines, her hips throwing shadows against the pale wall. She sat down on the edge of the brown-beige striped mattress, waiting.
Peeking out from under the hooded tent-like bedspread she asked: “Desserrrt?”
Sweets always manage to open my eyes.
We held each other to get warm. She had goosebumps all over. I had a hard-on.
We kissed. Very silent and very sweet. She slid up a little so I could kiss her nipples. Then she took me and put me inside. Condoms weren’t on my mind. We didn’t move much. Just a very long kiss until we both exploded in delight.