TWENTY-THREE - Resurrection Song

“She was. Dead.” said Arous.

“I know,” the proprietress voice was high.

They listened to the wind pick-up outside.

“I mean, I’ve seen enough dead Momo in my day. I know a dead Momo when I see one,” said the proprietress.

One of the Desperados came to the door and banged on it.  The proprietress ignored him.

“I’ve heard . . . I’ve heard about . . . Stories. Like when you are a child. Nobody believes them. . . .  Are you a Hikeuh?”

Arous wasn’t sure how to answer.

“You look strange enough. I mean, you don’t look like anyone I’ve ever seen except on E-Wall.”

“You’ve seen someone like me on E-wall?” said Arous.

“Yeah, the First Lady.  Ephor Ricci’s Idelle.  But I haven’t seen her in awhile.  She got sick but I think something else happened.”

“That’s my mom,” Arous said. “What do you know about what happened to her?”

“Girl! You want to talk about random City celebrity Idelle gossip when what you just did . .  . what you just did!”  She was breathing heavy.
            “I need to find my mom.”

“You need to be careful!  People around here don’t practice magic or take to those who do.  And you don’t exactly look normal.”

Arous couldn’t respond.

“I’m not saying you’re a bad person or nothing. But if those boys see that Momo alive they are going to think something and you might not make it out of here. A few of them just ain’t nice.”

“The two of them, the man and woman, seemed okay.”

“Yeah, well I never seen them in here before.”

Arous jumped down off the counter.

“Can she get up?” the proprietress asked.

“Yeah,” said Arous.

“We need to get her out of here before anyone sees her . . . alive.”

Arous nodded at the Momo and she stood.  The proprietress had begun to walk to the back of the diner.

“There’s a motel right next door.  You go over there and tell those old folks I sent you.  I’ll have a couple of Sasquatch carry your hoveh over to the motel when it’s good and dark.  You don’t want to leave it here. I’ll have them take it around back. Those Desperados are mostly no good, but they don’t have anything to do with the Motel. Don’t know how they stay in business over there.”

The Momo had already walked out the back door, chainless.  She was staring up into the sky.

“Look, girl, just be careful where you practice that magic. Some people . . . some people just don’t believe in the Bowl and all that Myth. Other people just plain don’t like it. And people in the City,” she paused and didn’t finish that though. “Look, Darlin. I’m sorry if I’m the one that has to break it to you,” she touched Arous’ arm. “I’ll have a sandwich sent over to you later or something. On the house. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She shut the back door of the diner and Arous was left alone.

Arous turned around to ask the Momo if she wanted to share a room with her, but the Momo was already running across the preamble to the dessert; her coat glistened in the moon, just like it should have.

It had turned cold since the sun had gone down.  A crisp breeze followed Arous across the lot to the motel. The colors of the lobby were muted much like those in the diner next door. The carpet matched the color of the sand outside.

 A withered yet bright-faced old man stood at the counter holding out a clipboard to her. He seemed familiar.

“Sign your name . . .”

She signed a small screen.

“Cash or dot?” he asked.

“Uh, dot.”

“Then slide your dot into this reader.” He pointed at a box with a slot on the top. She put her dot in the slot.  It chirped an amount which she verified.

“Voice confirmed.  Amount withdrawn. Thank you for your patronage.”  The dot popped back up through the slot where she could take it back again.

“We’re not fancy enough to have one of those tattoo readers. You know they keep saying they are going to make it over here with those DNA readers but I don’t think they’ve made it to Canadí yet. Maybe they won’t ever.”

He smiled and gave her a key the number 5 on it. A light timbre resounded in his voice.

“Number 5.  You’ll have to count two down from the corner. Number’s fell off the door.”

She walked to number 5 and unlocked her room.  A bright, grass green spread decorated the bed and verdant cacti coved faded wallpaper.  In the bathroom, little green soaps in the shape of cacti sat in a dish on the sink. A complimentary cactus toothbrush welcomed her from its holder. The urge to be soaking wet over-powered her fatigue.

After showering, she flopped onto the bed.  She laid back, a stiff corpse, pulling the burnt yellow blanket up from the foot of the bed. 

            She didn’t hear the door knob the first time it rattled.

            “Miguel, who’s that man standing outside her room?” asked Edalwit.  “He doesn’t look friendly.”

            “Don’t worry about that,” I said.  “She’ll soon be in REM sleep.  See if you can get in.”
            “I hate going in through dreams.  Please.” Edlawit held out her hands.