Monday, April 25, 2016

Free short story: Son of Egypt - Part 7

To make sure you don´t miss any part, you can subscribe via RSS or e-mail.
Parts: 010203040506070809101112131415161718 - 19

Copyright © 2016 by Cyci Cade. All rights reserved.

Gentle hands rock me back and forth as if I´m in a rock chair. It´s too early, dad. We have time. My father always wakes me too early when I have an archery competition. Then, I have to wait uncountable minutes until the moment to head to the contest. It makes me nervous. I´ve already told him it.

“Adele.” The voice is soft.

This isn´t my father´s voice. I open my eyes and turn my face to the side, it´s a fast and unexpected movement, so unexpected that my lips brush Anhuren´s slightly. Electrical sparkles run through my body bringing me back to reality.

Anhuren leaps to the middle of the tent as if he is a cat so accurate and fast his movement is. I´ve never seen anything like that before. At the same time I push myself to a sitting position and take my fingers to my lips—they are tingling. We just stare at each other. He is as startled as I am. An awkward silence involves us. Must I apologize? Why? I liked it. I´d like to try it again.

Noticing Anhuren´s lips curling up and forming a smile, I scowl at him. Is he reading my mind? What a shame! He knows my feelings while I don´t have any idea what he thinks of me. I change my thoughts. He is a god—an embodiment of a god—but it doesn´t make him the most desirable man of the world. No way! I wouldn´t hang out with a mummy!

He narrows his eyebrows and breaks visual contact. “It´s time, Adele.”

I gulp. Did he read my last sentences? I put my boots on and get up wondering where we´re going to. Oh, he wants to go to the museum to recover his canopic jars.

He grasps my bow and arrows.

I stamp toward him and protest, “Wait a moment! You can´t take it!”

He drops his gaze and studies my face. He wants to read me, I assume. “You need protection. I need protection.”

I cross my arms in front of my chest and speak in a rude tone, “You don´t look like a defenseless person.”

He ignores my protest and puts the bowstring and the quiver with the arrows around his chest. “I don´t have all my powers, my strength is limited, and I´ve spent much energy compelling you.”

My jaw drops open. “Have you compelled me all the time? Can you read my mind?”

With a malicious smile, he says, “Not all the time. You are very cooperative when you have… stimulation.”

“What about my mind? Can you read it?” I insist.

“No, I cannot. I just hear your thoughts; some of them are too loud.” With one step he approaches me and tugs me against his brawny body—his skin is warm.

He keeps an arm around my waist pressing me against his body, holding me tight as if I could slip from his grip. He lowers his head and looks straight in my eyes.

My heart speeds up. I lift my arms and hold on his arms. I sense each protuberance of his muscles. I cock my head back and my eyelashes flutter waiting for a kiss. It is what he is about to do, isn´t it?

He leans forward and presses my body hard against him. It´s almost painful. His lips are just a few inches from mine and I´m still waiting for the moment those full lips will cover mine in a passionate kiss.

Air escapes from my lungs, my vision blurs, and… I don´t sense him anymore, I don´t sense anything else. Fear possesses me. I scream at the top of my lungs when I just see darkness in front of me and my body floats in the air.

When I recover my vision and sensibility, he is covering my mouth, not with his mouth but with his hand. I´m panting, fighting for air; my heart is on the verge of exploding. I don´t see my tent anymore. I want to scream more but he´s muffling my voice. What is this man doing with me?

“Shh. Don´t scream!” he whispers.

Still feeling uncontrolled, I nod. I´m not sure if I´ll be able to keep my mouth shut due to the terror I feel now.

Slowly, he withdraws his hand and I can breathe better. Slowly, his arm that is around my waist releases me. Cold air occupies the vacant place.

I turn to the sides. “Where are we?”

“On the other side of the river.” He also turns to the sides.

“How is it possible?” I step closer to him.

“I transported us.” He grasps my trembling hand and drags me with him. “Where is the museum?”

“I don´t know.” I jog to catch up with him.

He halts his pace and stares at me, an eyebrow lifted.

“I told you, I arrived here yesterday. If you transported us to the other side of the river, why didn´t you take us to the museum?” I also lift an eyebrow.

“I´m weak, Adele. I´ve wasted much energy. I won´t endure another day without my canopic jars.” His voice fails.

“Oh.” My hands shake very badly now. I spin around, trying to find a way to arrive at the museum as soon as possible. “I have an idea.” I check my pockets. “I have some Euros, maybe it´s enough to take a taxi.”

“Euros? Taxi?” he babbles.

I grasp his hand and drag him with me. We walk a lot to reach an avenue, a busy avenue. Then I stop and wait, much time, until a taxi appears. I lift an arm and the taxi stops.

“Let me talk,” I whisper. I lean forward and ask the driver, “Can you take us to the museum? Do you accept Euros?” I show the money.

The driver speaks fast—a language I don´t understand. Doesn´t he speak English? How is it possible? Isn´t English a universal language? With so many tourists in Egypt this driver doesn´t speak English? With so many taxi drivers I chose the one who doesn´t understand a word I´m saying?

Anhuren leans forward and starts to talk with the man. After a long talk that seems a negotiation, he turns to me. “He´ll take us to the museum.”

I nod. Anhuren keeps immobile next to me. The driver shouts something. Then, I comprehend that Anhuren doesn´t know how to get in the taxi. I open the door and get in; he follows me.

I nudge him. “Close the door,” I whisper.

He does. He approaches me and whispers in my ear, “What are Euros and taxi?”

I turn my face toward him; again, just a few inches separate our lips. I have to fight the urge to kiss him. How many couples have kissed in a taxi? Remembering his question, I say, “I´ll explain it later.”