The Knights of Sheba, Ep. 7: "Fight or Flight" B

 The Knights of Sheba 107 B…Start

 

            That night, after the sun sets and the moon rises, Nina moves about her apartment.  She fixes herself tea and settles in to grade the most recent tests she gave out.  She is just through the first stack when someone knocks at her door.  On instinct, she checks her desk for her pistol before checking the window.

            Erak waits outside.

            Nina takes a deep breath and gathers herself.  Then, she opens the door.  “Major,” she says, and he brushes past her without speaking.

            Stopping in the center of her living room, he turns in a small circle.  Nina’s room is much like her office—sparsely decorated and painstakingly organized.  A small desk is set against the left wall from the entrance, with a doorway beside it.  On the right is a small kitchen with a tea kettle warm on the stove.

            “Good evening, Lieutenant,” Erak says, finally turning his gaze. As always, he seems disappointed. “I assume you have time for a quick chat.”

            “Yes, of course,” Nina says, closing the door behind her.  She watches him pace into her kitchen and sniff around.  He frowns at the kettle.

            “Human tea?”

            “Yes.  It is what they sell in the stores here.”

            “Of course it is,” he says.  He lifts the lid and smells again, and grimaces before closing it.  “I could get you proper provisions, you know.”  He turns to her.  “We have them stocked at the compound.”

            “I am aware, but I’m fine with what I have, thank you.”

            Erak returns to the living room, smiling smugly.  “Ah, yes, your assimilation.  If I remember correctly, you think we should become a part of their culture.  Dress like them.  Think like them.”  He stops and stares at her.  “War and die like them.”

            Nina’s skin prickles.  She returns to her desk and sorts the tests.  Stacking what she has graded, she puts a paper clip on them and sets them in her bag.  “With all due respect, sir, I am busy.”

            Erak approaches.  He fingers the papers, glancing through them.  “We worry about you, you know.  Not a one of us has the service record you do, and it is so rare that one of your status would be assigned to such a position.”

            Nina pauses, her fingers pressed tightly against the desk.  She takes a deep breath. “Excuse me, but I do not understand.”

            “I’m no fool, Lieutenant.  The position you’ve been put into, the infiltration of humanity, the role of the watchful guardian, the guiding hand, is empty.  This entire patrol is empty, to be honest, but yours job…No one covets it, and it was open only after Rior died.  And how fortunate for you he did.”

            “I am happy with this job, sir.  In fact, I see myself as being blessed.”

            “Blessed?  What strange terminology.  Perhaps you have become deluded, if you have come to believe in a human divinity.”

            “I simply meant to say that I am proud of the work I do here, sir.”

            “I see,” Erak says.  He glances into her bedroom, earning a glare from her.  Finding nothing of interest, he returns his attention to her.  She is facing him now, a frown creasing her face.  It makes her look older and, to the right person, dangerous.  “Someone with your breeding deserves more,” he says.  “There are some who fear you may be losing your sense of elven pride, losing sight of our purpose here.  Once, Olivier was a name to be respected.”

            “It still is.”

            “Not for long,” Erak says.  “How old are your parents now?”

            Nina’s frown deepens.  “Again, respectfully, what do you want, sir?”

            “The tea and the human girl.”  Erak pauses.  “I’ve seen your mission report after Operation Hellfire.”

            Nina’s eyes go wide, briefly.  “If I remember, the operation was considered a great success.”

            “By some,” Erak says. “But if people knew.”

            “I assure you, my heart is with my people, as are my intentions.  I only aim to make the worlds better.  Anything else is misrepresentation.”

            “I suppose so,” Erak says.  “I only came by to express my worry.  With everything going on, and with our disagreements, I don’t want the patrol to be dragged under because of our differing philosophies.”

            “I understand and appreciate your concern, but we will be fine.”

            Erak looks momentarily thoughtful while staring at her and then nods.  He returns to the door, stopping with his hand on the handle, and looks at her.  “I hope so,” he says.

            She salutes him. “Have a good night, sir.”

            He grunts in response and gives a curt nod.  “I’ll have some tea sent over, proper tea, not this human trash.”  He grimaces at her cup.

            “Thank you, sir, but you needn’t…”

            “I insist.”  He opens the door and stops in the threshold.  Outside, the air is cold and full of life.  Humanity moves around them, in their cars, and their lights polluting the skies.  He stares at the blank darkness blinded by the light of civilization.  The stars are out, but they can’t be seen from there.  “The girl.  She’s no soldier.”

            “She will learn.”

            “For your sake, she had better.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Nothing.” Erak shrugs.  “I just wonder sometimes if she will end up being your next great failure.”

            With that, he leaves, closing the door behind him.  Nina stands there, staring, and fighting her nerves.  After a deep breath and an hour of pacing, she tries to return to grading but can’t focus.  So, she gathers her things and goes for a long bath.  The tub is small and her legs hang out the sides, but the warm water eases her frustrations.

            Staring at her ceiling through a haze of steam, she wonders what future Geneva will yield.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Claude stays late after his shift.  He has had all day to think about his discussion with Shirley and has come to one conclusion—it was definitely an argument.  Beyond that, he is still unsure of how to handle it.  After an hour of hanging around, however, Eddie assures him that they are fine and sends him on his way.  Claude leaves the kitchen feeling defeated.

            Shirley is waiting for him in the room when he gets back.  She is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, watching the TV.  When he enters, she turns it off and stands to meet him.  As they make eye contact, she gives him a small, uncertain smile.  “Long shift?”

            Claude pauses at the door.  He nods.  “Yeah,” he says, brushing past her.  She watches him move about the room, grabbing a towel and a change of clothes.

            “Going for a shower?”

            “I normally do after a shift,” he says, stopping at the bathroom door.  “I get covered in all sorts of things.”

            “I understand,” she says.  “I wasn’t—I was just hoping we could talk a bit.”

            Claude pauses.  He reaches into the bathroom and flips the light on.  Then, he steps inside, bare feet cold against the tiles, and starts the shower.  Shirley watches from beside the bed.  He peeks his head out.  “I’m sorry, Shirley.  I know you want to talk, but,” he scratches the back of his head, “I’ve had a long day, and I have to work an early shift tomorrow.”

            “Claude, really, I understand, but we need to talk,” she says, “Please.”

            He stares at her for a moment, and then through her.  After some thought, he shakes his head.  “I know this is important to you, but I really need to get to bed.  Maybe tomorrow morning?  After my shift.”

            Shirley chews her cheek. She nods.  “Sure.”  Then, she remains by the bed, watching as he closes the door.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Early the next morning, Geneva boards the bus and is greeted by the very tired looking driver. They nod at each other in mutual fatigue, and Geneva takes a seat in the back.  The bus is empty and still cool inside.  Winter is coming in a rush, as it often does, and to Geneva’s overwhelmed mind it seems like time travel.  To her, summer seems both so long ago and also very recent.

            As the bus pulls away from her house, Geneva stares out the window.  The light this morning has a gray, flat quality to it.  Everything looks two-dimensional as it drifts by, and she loses herself, momentarily, to the motion, waking only after they reach the next stop.

            Another student boards and Geneva decides to use her time wisely.  She pulls her book bag up and pulls out one of the books Ms. Olivia gave to her.  It, like the journal, is written in what Geneva can only assume is elven.  The script is flowing but precise and very nice to look at.  It was clearly written long ago.  The pages feel rough with age.

            She thumbs through it, glances at different pages.  There are illustrations, of dragons and of people.  Slouching, Geneva pins her knees up against the seat in front of her and lays the book out against her thighs, and she begins reading.

            Like the journals, the book seems to be about the elves, but it is written far more objectively.  It describes, initially, the foundation of elven society and lists the worlds now counted among the Elven Empire.

            There are thirteen known worlds, Geneva learns, four of which are lost.  And all worlds are held by the Yggdrasil, the world tree, each with a gate tree connecting them to each other.  Each world is also counted among the Council of Races, situated in the Realm of Light, where the elves originate.

            The human world, called the Realm of Man in the book, is counted among the lost worlds.  The book explains that this is because humanity is considered dangerous, as the demons before them were, and must be watched.  So, they are kept oblivious of the worlds around them, for fear of the havoc they will wreak.

            The other lost worlds are the Realm of Beasts, where the demons dwell; the Realm of Gods, where the gods came from; and the Realm of Thrones, the first world colonized by the gods.  All three were lost to the war with the demons, the book says, and on one of the pages it has an illustration of an enormous eye with fire writhing about its iris.

            Next, Geneva learns of the remaining realms, some of which were found by the elves after the fall of the gods.  Those colonized by the council are The Realm of Water, home to the water elves; the Realm of Light, their seat of power; The Realm of Tranquility, a world of plains being converted largely into farmland; The Realm of Wood, home to the wood elves; The Realm of Night, home of the night elves; and the Realm of Shadows, home of the dark elves.

            It is there that Geneva drifts off, staring at a hand-drawn picture of an enormous tree, holding the heavens in its branches and all the worlds in its roots.  A serpent is coiled about its trunk.  Geneva dreams, then, of thirteen worlds and a great fire that sweeps over them, and she fears that she will never be able to stop it.

            When they arrive at school, the bus driver wakes her.  The bus is empty, and Geneva has to rush reach class on time.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            After school, Geneva goes to training and asks Ms. Olivia for the weekend off.  She is given a quick, firm, “No,” before they continue their work.  This time, Geneva manages to conjure her armor without the aid of a bullet, and she counts that as the closest thing to a victory she will get.

            When she talks to Kit again, Geneva makes plans to meet her Saturday evening, accounting for her time training, and uses study as an excuse.  After that, she waits for the slow drag toward the week end and, on Saturday evening, after training, is at home long enough to shower and tell her parents where she will be.

            Her father, tired from a long week of work, gives a nod and a smile and tells her to have fun.  Her mother, however, has questions.

            “Will you need money for food,” is the first.

            “No,” Geneva says, “But maybe some for a ticket?”

            “Right.”  Her mother goes to her wallet.  She opens it and hesitates before digging through it.

            Geneva watches her for a moment and then says, “Actually, I think I have some from last time.”

            “Oh?  Then just use that, sweetie,” her mother says.  She closes her wallet and tucks it away inside of her purse.  “You’re sure about the food, though?  We can scrounge some snacks for you to take.”

            “We’ll be fine,” Geneva says.  “Thanks, though.”

            “You’re welcome.  When will you two be back?”

            Geneva shrugs.

            Her mother frowns.  “Geneva Evelyn Oaks.”

            “I’m not sure.  Really.  I don’t even know what movie we’re seeing, but I won’t be out past curfew,” Geneva says.  “I have a curfew, right?”

            “Of course, you do,” her mother says ambiguously.  “Make sure you’re back in time.”

            “Right.”

            “And don’t watch anything too graphic.”

            “They sort of check IDs now, mom.”

            “Right,” her mother says.  Kit knocks at the door, and her mother says, “Is that her? Invite her in for a bit.  You two aren’t in a hurry, are you?”

            “Kind of,” Geneva says, rushing out of the room.  “Want good seats and all.”  She and Kit nearly bump into each other.  Kit is already in the hallway, smiling.  They stand together, Geneva staring up at her, remembering how tall she is.

            “Well, hello there.”  Kit moves closer, putting her hands on Geneva’s hips, but she has them quickly removed.

            “My mom might be watching,” she says, pushing Kit out the door.

            “If she is, then she knows,” Kit says, looking back.  “I mean, hand on the hip isn’t exactly girl friend stuff.  It’s girlfriend stuff.”

            Geneva sighs as they approach Kit’s car together.  She waits at the passenger door and stares back at the house.  “Sadly, I think I understood that sentence.”

            “Of course, you did,” Kit says, trailing shortly after.  She unlocks the door electronically but rushes to open it for Geneva.  Bowing, “My lady.”

            “My, aren’t you the gentleman?”

            “Gentle woman.  I’m a woman, Genny.  Boobs, remember?”

            “So that’s what those big old things are.”

            “Yup, been there since the fifth grade.”

            “Lucky you.”  Geneva tugs on her shirt.  “Mine are still coming in.”

            “Yours are fine,” Kit says, and Geneva blushes.  “I’m just saying, I’m a fan is all.”

            “I know what you’re saying,” Geneva says while taking her seat.  She pulls her seatbelt on, suddenly self-conscious of the way it fits between her breasts.  “Now, get in the car, pervert.”

            “Yes, ma’am!”

            The theatre they visit is in a nicer part of town than Geneva is used to.  It is large and packed with cars at approach.  Kit finds a place near the front and they walk together, side-by-side, talking on the way in.  Kit pays for both tickets and dismisses Geneva’s gratitude with the wave of her hand.

            “You’re my girlfriend,” Kit says while leading them in.  “I get to spoil you.”

            “Still, thanks,” Geneva says, “My mom was struggling for the money, and I—I don’t want you to think I am taking advantage.”

            Kit stops and turns.  She takes Geneva’s hands and stares her in the eyes.  “Genny, listen and listen well, because I shouldn’t have to keep saying this.  I want to do this for you.  No one is taking advantage of anyone.  This is my treat.  Really.”

            Geneva smiles and blushes.  “Come on,” she says.  “Let’s get to the movie.”
            “Nope,” Kit says, turning again and this time marching toward the concession line.  “Not without snacks.” Geneva follows, grimacing at the prices.  “And I’m not taking no,” Kit says over her shoulder.  “We’re at least sharing popcorn.”

            “But it’s so expensive.”

            “Nonsense.  This is the best part of the movies.”

            They end up getting a small popcorn, to share, and two small drinks.  Then, they go to the movie and find seats in the middle aisle.  The previews start and more people fill the auditorium.  There are less people than Geneva expected.

            Before arrival, they couldn’t settle on a movie.  Geneva wanted to see an off-beat comedy.  Kit wanted to see action.  Eventually, they settled on romantic comedy and left it at that.  Before the movie starts, Geneva finds herself surprised by how spacious her seat is and how much legroom the rows offer.

            She holds the popcorn and snacks on it a bit to ease her anxieties.  The movie starts.  Credits roll, and an attractive man with nice eyes and dimples fumbles his way through life until he runs into a petite, attractive woman with dark hair and bright eyes.

            Geneva isn’t sure of the details beyond that.  She can’t focus on the movie.  Everything about it, the theatre, the popcorn, the girlfriend, leaves her feeling out of place.  It is like she is living someone else’s life, and they have set out into new, uncharted territories.  There is exhilaration and excitement and a lot of uncertainty.

            Somehow, she feels like the knights are a better fit for her than Kit.

            When Kit laughs, Geneva glances at her, and she marvels at her girlfriend’s beauty.  Kit is tall, shapely in places and thin in others.  Her face is well-shaped, her nose petite but attractive.  Her forehead is perfect, Geneva thinks, and she envies her for it.

            Catching her staring, Kit smiles and takes Geneva’s hand.  They lace fingers and stay this way for a few minutes.  Geneva now stares at their joined hands.  She wants to bury her face in the popcorn.

            Kit leans over and whispers.  “Something wrong?”

            Geneva looks up, pretends to be staring at the screen.  She hesitates before answering.  “No. Nothing.”

            “You want me to let go?”

            “No,” Geneva says.  She smiles faintly and squeezes Kit’s hand.  “No.”

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            After the movie, Geneva and Kit walk out of the theatre together, holding hands and smiling.  If asked, Geneva can’t remember even half of what happened.  She just remembers how warm Kit’s hand feels, and how soft her skin is, and how long her fingers are.

            She is also aware of how sweaty their palms are after being pressed together for so long, and how that doesn’t bother her in the least.

            It is still light out, but the sun is setting.  The sky is overcast, a thick, gray curtain, and snow falls and gathers on the sidewalks.  They watch it together for a moment, standing close for warmth, before getting into Kit’s car.

            The ride home is quiet but contented.  Geneva is smiling so much her face hurts.  The jitters remain, but the fact that she has a girlfriend—a real girlfriend—is finally starting to set in.  Her palms remain sweaty the entire way home.

            “So, what did you think,” Kit asks after some time.  She is staring ahead, focused on the road, and Geneva thinks she is smiling but doesn’t feel confident enough to look.

            “I think,” Geneva pauses for a moment to consider it.  She doesn’t know what to say, if she should be positive or negative, so she settles on honesty.  “I thought it was awful.  One cliché after another.”

            “Really? I didn’t think it was so bad.”

            “It was,” Geneva says firmly, holding her ground in an argument where she has no ground.  She feels her hand and stares at her lap and tries to sound confident.  “Clearly, you saw a different movie.”

            “Listen to little miss critic here,” Kit says as they pull up to the house.  “Then again, you do have pretty good taste.”  She winks.

            Now blushing, Geneva looks out the window.  “So, guess I should be getting inside, huh?”

            “Want me to walk you to the door?”

            “No,” Geneva says, watching the snow dancing in the headlights.  It makes her think of stars flying by spaceships in science fiction movies.  She looks at Kit again.  The warmth in her cheeks lingers.  “But.”

            “But?”

            “Well, we went on a date.”

            “Yeah?”

            Geneva fidgets and keeps smiling.  She’s becoming worried over her own condition.  “Well, aren’t dates supposed to end with a kiss?”

            Kit grins.  “Only if the date went well.”

            Geneva gives a self-conscious glance at her knees.  “Want to kiss?”

            Laughter. “You’re so well mannered.”

            “Don’t tease me, darn it!  I’m new to this stuff, and I—Mph!”

She is silenced by a kiss.  They stay like this, lips locked, eyes closed, for what feels like an eternity, though by this point Geneva is fairly certain her internal clock is stuck on romance-time, which seems to simultaneously accelerated and stationary.

            They break, smiling and staring, and Kit says, “And that’s good night, I guess.”

            “Yeah,” Geneva says, staring at Kit’s lips.  They look wetter and plumper than she remembers.  She can taste strawberries.  “Good night,” Geneva says, and she leans forward and makes contact.  She braces against the dashboard for support.

            Kit hugs Geneva about the waist, holding her by the hips.  Their kiss grows deeper, their tongues touching.  They part briefly for breath and then meet again, like the churning ocean against the shore.  Geneva can taste Kit’s soft drink and stale popcorn and is surprised to find how inoffensive it is.

            She clutches Kit’s head, pulls her deeper, her body moving of its own accord in violent want.  They move together, Geneva falling back and pulling Kit with her.  Their bodies press together, their chests touching, their heat merging, when a ringing tone breaks the spell.

            They part unwillingly, both breathless and foggy-headed.  Kit settles her in set and pulls up her cell.  She stares at it.  “Sorry, my parents.”

            “No, no, it’s cool,” Geneva says, fiddling with her shirt and wiping her mouth.  Somehow, her skin feels almost itchy, and her clothes and hair are askew.  She adjusts herself and pulls her shirt down.  At some point, Kit had it lifted.  “I should…”  She points to the house.

            Kit nods and lifts the phone.  “Hey, mom.  Yes, the movie just ended, and I should be home soon.”  Before Geneva gets out, Kit takes her by the hand and pulls her back, kissing her on the cheek.  She smiles as Geneva stares, and she gives a quick wink before returning to the conversation.

            Geneva crosses the yard to her front door and looks back.  Kit waves before pulling out, and Geneva watches her car disappear down the street.  Snowflakes spiral down in a dizzying dance, and Geneva shivers and waits. 

            She needs the cold air to calm her down before she can face her parents.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            After his morning shift, Claude stays late to avoid the fight he knows is waiting for him.  He does whatever he can to keep himself busy, scrubbing floor, polishing shelves, and signing out only after Eddie and Marisa force him from the kitchen.

            Then, he makes the short walk back to his room.  On the way, he imagines how the conversation will play out.  In his head she is understanding, even apologetic.  Briefly, she offers to move back home, then he decides he would prefer if she stayed with him at the hotel, and then he isn’t sure that is better, either.

            When he opens the door, he finds her waiting with packed bags, and his heart sinks.  “Shirley? You going somewhere?”

            “Yes.” She stands from the bed and grabs her bags. “I’m moving, Claude.  I decided on one of those apartments on my own, and they said I could move in immediately.  And I think you should come with me.”

            Claude holds the doorknob tight, leans into it for support.  He rubs the back of his neck.  “Shirley, you can’t just come here and make all of these decisions for me.”

            “I’m not,” she says, “I’m making you an offer.  I’m moving, with or without you.”

            “What?”

            “I’m tired of waiting.  Tired of excuses.  So, here’s your chance. Either you can come with me or you can stay here and keep living off of your boss’ charity.  Your choice.”

            “It’s—It’s not that simple.”

            “It is from where I’m standing.”

            “I have responsibilities, Shirley.”

            “So?  Everyone has responsibilities, Claude.  Do you even realize how lucky you are?  How special you are?  So, you have responsibilities.  Fine.  But the world doesn’t owe you anything, and you aren’t doing anyone any favors by taking advantage of them.”

            “I’m not taking advantage! I’m doing what I have to do to survive!”

            Tears come to Shirley’s eyes, and she breathes through them.  Adjusting her bag on her shoulders, she says, “And so am I.”

            “By giving me an ultimatum?”

            “There’s no ultimatum, Claude.  You’ve made your decision, and I’m sticking to mine.”  She looks him in the eyes.  “See you around.”  Then, she is gone.

            Claude stands in the doorway as she passes him.  He thinks to grab her, to beg her to stay, but the words won’t come.  So, he just holds the door tightly in his hand and stares at the far wall, and focuses on breathing.

            He stays this way, tense, coiled, and indecisive for minutes after she is gone.  Then, slowly, he closes the door and stands in the darkness of his room.  Without Shirley there it seems much darker.  He screams and kicks over his nearby table, knocking his clothes and arrows to the floor and falls beside them, holding his foot.

 

-The Knights of Sheba-

 

            Geneva’s first thought when stepping into her house, is how much warmer it is inside than outside.  Next, she makes sure to close the door quickly enough so as to let her parents know she is home but to also give her a head start up the stairs before they can question her.

            Failing, she manages to escape by using school as an excuse.  She makes it to her room and changes before Beatrice peeks in wearing a knowing smile.  Geneva gives a cold stare in return.

            “Yes?”

            Beatrice leans against the door frame.  “How was the date?”

            Geneva shushes her and peeks out into the empty hall.  “Mom and dad don’t know.”

            “They know more than you might think.”

            “What?”

            “You two aren’t exactly subtle.”

            Geneva climbs onto her bed and hugs a pillow to her chest.  “Bea!”

            “Relax, I’m kidding.  Kind of.  I mean, you two are affectionate, but not so much that you wouldn’t know without knowing.  And I know, because I know, you know?  Anyway, mom is just happy to see that you have a friend.”  Beatrice enters the room and picks up one of Geneva’s game cases from her desk.  She turns it over in her hands while pretending to look at it.  “A girlfriend.  You two are cute together.  Does she like games?”

            “I don’t know,” Geneva says.  “And it was fine.”

            “What?”  Beatrice sets the game aside.

            “The date.  It was fine.”

            “Fine?  Did things get hot and heavy? Did you lose it?  Did you lose your V?”
            “I need to study.”

            “Need privacy after a date, hmm?”  Beatrice lingers in the doorway.

            “Leave my room now or get a teddy bear to the face.”

            “You know, only little girls keep teddy bears.”

            “They’re ammunition.”

            Beatrice blows a raspberry.  “Does your girlfriend know that she’s dating a little girl?”  She barely has time to duck out of the room before a teddy bear comes flying out into the hall.

 

The Knights of Sheba 107…End