Glorious Sunset (7 page)

“Don't think just because you can drive you're big stuff. There are a whole lot of rules to follow. They don't just let anybody drive you know.” She belted and started the car. “You have to have a license to drive one of these babies.”

“Yes, and what are these rules then?” Taka asked.

She pulled onto the road to take them to the highway. “Well, when you're driving, you have to be on the right side of the road, in this country. And there are traffic lights to tell you when you can drive and when you have to stop. And you can't just do any old speed, mister. You have to abide by the law.” They were on the highway and flew past a sign with sixty-five in bold.

“Was that a sign for speed?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“That sign you just passed.” He leaned over and looked at her speedometer. “Is that to correspond? That cannot be. You are driving much faster than sixty-five so that must have been for some other rule.”

“What? Who's going over sixty-five?”

“You are. From that device it looks as if you are doing seventy.”

“Anyway, as I was saying. If you were of this earth and all, driving would be an honor and a privilege but since you're only a guest, well, you don't need to worry your pretty little head about these things. I've been doing this for years. I'm an expert.”

She whipped in front of a car on her left, gained speed and did the same to a car on the right, then gained more speed and shot off to the right on an exit. “See, you can't do that if you don't know what you're doing,” she said. Sure, she'd been showing off a little. But somebody had to show genie just because he knew his way around a gearshift he wasn't all that.

“Well then,” Taka said, amusement coloring his words. “I'm honored to have learned by the master.” He settled comfortably in his seat. “By the way, master, that sign would imply the speed on this road is thirty-fi—”

“Look, here we are!” Violet said, parking at her next destination.

“And where would here be?”

“Eastland Mall. It's like a giant building with stores and restaurants and stuff. I was thinking we could go get some lunch and maybe shop a little.” Okay, she was taking advantage of the fact that he had no idea how much normal men hated to shop with women, but this was her one day off and it never hurt to have a male perspective.

Taka grimaced as he remembered how much he hated to wait around when Zahara was being fitted for the thousand pieces of jewelry, clothing, and accessories to make up a single outfit, not to mention the endless conversations on whether to braid her hair to the left or to the right. He always loved the outcome but the process was worse than reeds under the fingernails.

“You cannot make me go inside,” he declared, adopting his most fierce expression to her apparent delight. She smiled at him as if he were a child and it infuriated him more. “Woman, I did not leave my stone to be tortured by you. I may have to grant your wishes but I will not do this. I. Will. Not.”

Taka grumbled as he tried to wedge his massive body in a delicate chair outside the fitting room in the ladies' clothing store, the newspaper in his hands his only relief. At least he could see the date and read a little bit of what was going on in the world while Violet tried on clothes. He was so absorbed he only felt an occasional bump as people passed.

For her part, after the hundredth time of peeking out of the fitting room to see women intentionally stray too close to her genie, and other women sauntering into the communal area to “accidentally” award him a glimpse of scandalous lingerie, Violet lost her pleasant mood.

By the time one woman made her third trip out of her little private cubby area in her thong underwear, Violet could no longer contain herself and poked her head over the top.

“Sweetie, if I had a body like yours I wouldn't be prancing in front of anybody. You need to keep your narrow little behind in your room before I have to come out there. He's with me.”

The woman looked highly insulted, but dragged her butt into her cubby like Violet suggested, rightly interpreting the violence in Violet's tone. Violet had honed her skills of intimidation to an art form and they came in handy for times such as this. After all, she had to protect her genie. Sure, he was big and all, but he was an innocent to this time; he had no idea how aggressive women of today could be. And he was not spending her precious three days knocking boots with some skinny-behind hoochie. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Taka was too busy reading the disturbing stories in the newspaper to notice Violet's protection. Some things never changed. All the murders and crime; people were still betraying each other. And if it wasn't a violent crime, it was a financial one. He thought back to his loss of Jaha. On his first jaunt from his stone after the massacre of his people the legend of Jaha was still alive. He'd learned that many countries in Africa had fallen to tribal warfare and transatlantic slavery, the likes of which no one had ever seen. It upset him to think that even Africans participated in this trade against their own.

He even felt some regret that he hadn't remained to rebuild his kingdom. By his next appearance, this time in Asia, he'd discovered Jaha was no longer spoken of. Only mystics and time travelers remembered Jaha; any living evidence had died out. By the next jaunt, history books never even mentioned the ancient kingdom of Jaha. It was as if his country and people had never existed.

“Ready to go?” Violet stood before him, clothing draped over her arm.

“Thank the heavens,” he could not contain. A short while later they were back at Violet's apartment and Taka was looking forward to finally spending quality time with her. “Thanks for carrying the bags for me,” Violet said, leading the way in. “Oh, and don't forget yours for being such a good sport!” She took all the bags but one. “That will look great on you!”

“I do not know why you bought clothing for me. I cannot take it with me. I told you, I have no control over my dress. That is determined by the same power that keeps me from feeling hunger or fatigue while I am inside. I am clothed in the dress of the time when I emerge from my stone.”

“I know, I know. But while you're out here you might as well have something nice. Besides, you'll need it tonight.”

“Why?” he asked, on guard. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention? Dinner. With Jerome and Brenda and Gary.”

“Absolutely not. No. Absolutely no.”

“Why? How long's it been since you had a good meal? You scarfed down breakfast and lunch was just a quick bite. And you look like neither meal could sustain you, anyway.”

“You push your luck, woman. It is bad enough you are lying about who I am.”

“But you'll get to meet everybody. Wouldn't you like to meet Jerome? I'm sure you two will hit it off right away.”

“Who is this Jerome person?”

“You know, my boyfriend.”

Taka fell quiet. The “boy” friend. An odd development in the relations between men and women over the centuries: “friends” who held no requirement of commitment yet functioned as if they deserved the rights that should only come with such commitment. Not every relationship between men and women in his time had been a marital one, but at least they'd never been so cavalier.

He'd conveniently forgotten talk of the man at breakfast as the “boy” friend was rightly insignificant in the larger scheme of things. Perhaps this morning news of her being with a man had not bothered him because he disliked Violet so. After spending the day in gentle companionship with her, he had no desire to see her with another man. He was just coming to know her himself.

He'd never had to see Zahara being wooed by another man. As king, once he'd expressed interest in her no one else had dared approach her. Fortunately, she had been as happy with the match as he. He'd never had to worry about wanting a woman who did not want him back. In other kingdoms, the desires of the woman meant little one way or another, but he had wanted Zahara to be as excited to be with him as he was with her. He'd plied her and her parents with gifts and, finally, one day summoned her to ask her if she would consider becoming his wife. It had caused a minor scandal and he'd taken plenty of ribbing for it from neighboring kings. But it had won Zahara's love and respect, which was worth the loss of face.

He spent the next hour stewing over his predicament while Violet dressed. He would have to get rid of this Jerome man, somehow. Certainly he was no worthy suitor or he would have made himself known sometime during the day. No flowers, no gifts, no jewels, gifted farm animals, or communication; she might as well be alone as attentive as this man was. Attentive or not, Zahara was his. He'd traveled hundreds of years and thousands of miles to find her again and no living man would keep her from him.

When Violet emerged from the bedroom in a dress of emerald that stopped at her knees and showed very nearly every curve of her splendid body, Taka tightened with tension. Her skin practically gleamed against the brilliant color. The dress not only made her skin glow, it cupped her bosom enticingly and held it up and out like an offering of sweet fruits on a platter to an honored guest; they were smooth and round, moist with the scent of . . . was that shea butter? Shea butter was only for him! Imagining this “boy” friend sampling his shea butter–coated breasts made his stomach turn with bile.

“Genie, what's wrong? I can feel that cold draft from here.” Violet breezed through the room, noting his stiffness as she passed him to pour herself a glass of water.
What does he have to be tense about?
she thought. Another free meal. And more time out of his rock. You would think he'd be thanking her.

“This time and the ways of your world are foreign to me,” he grumbled. “I will stay in tonight.”

Violet turned to look at him, arms crossed. Boy, he really did look uncomfortable. She could barely see his eyes his face was so stiff in its frown. She almost gave in and allowed him to stay home. But, frankly, she kind of liked his company. He exuded a strength and confidence that were very attractive. He was like a male version of herself. His presence was akin to having her very own bodyguard. And she was mildly amused at the way his eyes seemed to be drawn to her body and then would look away quickly as if trying to avoid her.

Oh yeah, she caught that look in his eyes when he spotted her in this dress. It was cute. It reminded her of a boy back in high school who was so entranced by the sight of her little beebees he'd spilled soda all over himself trying to get a look. And they'd grown much more since then. They were darned near perfect, now. She could hardly blame the big guy for staring.

Violet walked to him and reached out to take his hand, looking up and speaking as soothingly as she would with a child. “It'll be okay. Don't be scared. I'll be right there with you.”

Taka bristled and glared at her from under his brow. “I am not afraid. I'll thank you to watch your tone with me, woman. I am no child to be placated.”

“Okay, okay.” Violet raised her hands in submission. “I didn't mean anything.”

“What would I be frightened of? Do you think you and your friends and your world are so impressive that a man like me cannot figure them out? It is dinner. We will eat and drink and have conversation. I will sit with you and your friend who is a boy and we will speak civilly. I am a king, I have spoken to dignitaries and politicians the world over; your little friendly boy does not intimidate me.”

“Okay, I'm sorry,” Violet said, recognizing the dulcet tones of wounded pride. She really shouldn't tease him so much but men were so easy to rile. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She did a little hop and scurried from the room only to return a second later with the bag she'd brought home earlier. “For you. Perfect for this evening.”

“Why do I need to change?” Taka asked. “I am already clothed.”

“Yes, you are. But those clothes leave a little to be desired.”

“You are being shallow. Clothing is of no consequence; it is the person who is important.”

Violet sighed and stuck one hand on her hip with annoyance. “So I suppose that means when you were a king you weren't dressed in the finest clothes and jewels in the land, huh?” She stood there for a moment inspecting her nails until he conceded and snatched the bag from her.

“Fine. I will change into your modern clothes to impress your friends, as I know that is important to you. I will be out shortly.”

Violet hid a smile as he walked into the bathroom stiffly and closed the door behind him. She made herself at home on the sofa for the wait, crossing one leg over a knee to allow it to swing. Her shoes were shiny and new; she thought of the way his eyes got dark when he saw her legs in these shoes.

“Whoa, get a grip, Violet.” There had to be some sort of law against trying to seduce a genie, right?

 

 

An hour later Taka and Jerome sat across from one another, eyeing each other like adversaries.

“So,” Gary said, watching the other two men. “Taka, what'd you say you do?”

Violet answered, “He's a foreign dignitary, aren't you, Taka?”

“What the heck is that?” Gary asked.

Jerome gave Taka a dirty look. “Means kisses behinds of people from other countries.”

Taka said softly but with steel, “I would imagine you know a great deal about that ‘kissing of the behind' you speak of; your manner of speech would suggest so. Frankly, I prefer the lips of a beautiful woman to a behind any day.”

“Too bad you ain't got one,” Jerome countered, leaning over to kiss Violet. Taka's jaw flexed, as did his fists under the table.

“Ah.” Brenda smiled. “That's sweet.”

Taka frowned even harder. “Is it supposed to be romantic to grope a woman in public? Where I come from you would have your legs tied to a mule and be dragged through a hill of horse dung for such a disrespectful display with a woman who is not your betrothed.”

“Darn, man,” Gary declared. “Where you come from?”

“Why don't you go back?” Jerome followed.

Violet saw the food coming and interrupted, gratefully. “Oh look, food's here. Thank God, I'm starving.” The sight of the ribs and fries on the platter made her mouth water. “Where's my soda?” she asked the waiter. She frowned when it was obvious he'd forgotten it. “If I wanted my drink after my dinner I would have ordered it as dessert,” she snapped.

“She gets cranky when she's hungry,” Jerome said.

“I'm paying for service,” she insisted. “I'm not paying for him to walk around with his head up his behind.” She said the last part loud enough for half the restaurant to hear and then turned back to her plate, smoothing her napkin over her lap.

Jerome looked at her platter and gave her a sideways glance. “Dang, baby, you gonna eat all that! Your girl over there doesn't eat like you do.”

“I'm. Hungry,” Violet said.

Brenda prodded her lettuce leaves with a fork. “So am I, but this salad is going to be fine for me. It absolutely fills me up every time I get it and it is so delicious.” The four of them watched Brenda take a bite of lettuce and squint her eyes in ecstasy. Violet flushed as her stomach growled in protest.

Taka looked at Violet. “Nonsense. Animals were made to be killed and eaten. The body cannot function without protein; it will starve itself into unattractive emaciation, as your tiny friend's body clearly displays. Eat your fill, woman. But, in the name of all that is holy, you must be kinder to the help. It is unladylike and unbecoming for a woman of your standing to berate them so. You are too decent a person to allow that representation to be all they know of you.”

All heads looked to him in shock and then everyone at the table burst into laughter; everyone but Violet who looked at him, intently.

Who did he think he was to call her out like that? She never intended to be rude to the wait staff but she always felt, somehow, that if she didn't whip them into shape first they would take advantage. She had to show them, and everyone, that she was in control of the situation, didn't she? She had to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with, right? Then why did she feel the flush of shame? And why was she suddenly offended that everyone else at the table found the prospect of her being a woman of “great standing” so hilarious?

Taka had stiffened under the laughter assault but he still held Violet's gaze long enough for Jerome to notice and go on the assault, himself.

“Listen to him. Who does he think he is?” Jerome asked. Violet kept Taka's gaze, also, until the genie dropped his to his plate, picking up his utensils to eat, a flex in his jaw his only sign of tension. She felt strangely disappointed with the loss.

“You should try the salad, Violet,” Brenda said, after Violet had firmly and resolutely inserted a pork rib in her mouth. Violet looked over at her friend and, not for the first time, wondered at her suspect timing. “Especially since you'll be my maid of honor. You have to look nice in the dress. As a matter of fact, I brought it.”