Part 6 (1/2)

Violet returned to the bedroom carrying two large cups.

-Here, she said, offering one of them to Guy. He took it with both hands, and she sat opposite him on the floor with crossed legs. Guy placed his cup down and watched with dizzy interest the steam curl toward the ceiling. He leaned forward and breathed deeply, trying to identify the curious but not unpleasant tea scent.

-It's not really for drinking, she said, s.h.i.+fting her legs to better distribute her weight. -I like to soak my fingers in it.

-What kind of tea is it?

-Different herbs. I read about it in a book.

He tested the temperature of the tea with the little finger of his right hand. Finding it not uncomfortably hot, he arranged his hands around the rim of the cup so that his fingertips were immersed in the fragrant liquid.

-Very relaxing, he declared.

She smiled her crooked smile.

-Cigarette? She did not wait for his reply but lit for herself a filterless cigarette from a half-crushed pack lying on the floor. In the light from the flaring match Guy could see that her hands shook slightly.

-You shouldn't smoke, he said equably.

-You think? She exhaled a lungful of blue smoke. The smoke spiraled in a lazy stream upwards, twining with the steam from the tea, and flowered in layers in the still air.

A moment of silence pa.s.sed between them.

She sat down cross-legged, dipped the fingers of her left hand into the tea, and playfully flicked her hand at Guy. He felt drops of the hot liquid on his face but made no motion to wipe them away. Violet sighed, dropped her cigarette into the cup, and stood up. She fumbled with the zipper of her heavy black pants. She stepped out of the pants and came toward him. Leaning back on his elbows and peering in the candlelight at her face, Guy saw that her eyes were bright, glittering with unshed tears.

She bent forward, and Guy saw on the candlelit wall her shadow lean into his. The two shadows appeared to kiss, and he closed his eyes but did not feel the pressure of her lips. When he opened his eyes again she was staring at him from a distance of six inches. He could feel her breath, quick and warm, and her hair had fallen forward so that lank strands brushed his cheekbones.

-You've always been so nice to me, she murmered in his ear.

-I'm a nice person.

-Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, she said. -Or bends with the remover to remove.

-You're left-handed, Guy observed, weakly, irrelevantly.

-I'm left-handed, she agreed, then kissed each of his eyelids. -And you're probably the first person since my high school art teacher to notice that.

-Okay, he said.

22. BILLY DESCRIBES HIS FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE MOPED MARAUDERS, APPROXIMATELY TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE KOREAN CHECK-CAs.h.i.+NG FIASCO.

So I'm out walking the dogs ...

-You mean dragging the dogs behind your car, said Guy.

-Don't interrupt. This is serious. There's a gang of moped riders that go around terrorizing innocent drivers.

-Okay, I'll bite. What's the punch line?

-It's not a joke! I wish it was a joke. They go around in a pack of like ten. It's not just cars, it's pedestrians and especially, especially bicyclists. They're sworn enemies of Critical Ma.s.s.

-The who what?

-You know, that organization of bike riders that's trying to make the city more bike-friendly. The Moped Marauders hate them most of all. They're led by this one redheaded girl with a tourmaline-colored moped with matching helmet. The others ride different colors but everyone matches-helmet and bike. The leader, though, the redhead ...

-Is she cute?

-Well, yeah, she would be if she wasn't evil. They surrounded me and started calling me names. Threatened to call the ASPCA on me.

-Which, you may recall, is not the first time someone's threatened to do that.

-But I knew you'd never follow through. These guys, though, totally different story. They mean business.

-By the way, where did you learn the word ”tourmaline”?

-The redhead corrected me when I called her moped green. See what I'm saying? She's evil.

-I can see that. So what did you do?

-I pulled over and pretended to call 911.

-You don't have a cell phone.

-That's why I pretended. They saw right through that, though, so I just rolled up the windows and waited them out. Eventually they got bored and went away. I think they saw a bike rider.

-Sounds pretty random.

-If by ”random” you mean ”incredibly dangerous and potentially life-threatening,” then I agree.

-Okay.

-Hey, you want to play Guitar Hero III?

-Again?

-Yes, again.

-Are you going to be Nikki Simp?