Flora’s Own. pg 14

7:09 PM

I finished yesterday with being alone in a house. Just so you know, it has since become my home. A home shared with my family. My host and sister came in about an hour later. I had anticipated their appetites and had conjured up a warm welcoming meal. Thick stew with a coarse bread and churned butter. They went to it with a passion, one I could see they were still enthralled by. I let them have it, and after a bit restrained dinner, they retired to one of the suites in a far wing of the house. It came with its own spa, hot water mikveh and service bar. Well, I would be admitted to that love circle soon enough. A first night is always one of the most important in creating that central heart bond. Stan and I had had it. I wouldn’t begrudge N’sonowa a single moment of that joy. In any case, I took off, determined to find grandma Hwe Ang Hong. Her restroom was a portal. Now that I know it, I am going to have some fun.

I didn’t know how to proceed with finding her though. I had a pretty good sense of the landscapes that were consciously designed by my host, but as to the place, I had found on my own? Well that would take some creative searching, so I decided to do it in my own dreamscape. A nap was therefore in order….and I immediately, upon hitting the bed, entered mindscape. I was again in the café’ by the river. I went out to find the rickshaw boy, and it wasn’t’ two seconds before he showed up. “Hey,  missy, missy, over here.” He was actually jumping up and down, waving for my attention. Soon we were off, bumping along over  unpaved roads and rutted footpaths that lead to his grandmother’s house. He made a few stops at other huts along the way, each time picking up some little package from the peasants who were his neighbors. When we got to Grandmother Hwe Ang Hong, he again with obvious great joy, announced me to the old lady. She burst into laughter when she saw me, which persisted overly long in my estimation, and even then, from time to time expressed itself in giggles. She once again prepared tea, a different tasting brew than the first , and along with an ample serving of a spiced brown rice and dried fish, had me well fed and smiling. As full as I was, soon I got sleepy too and I asked Grandma Hwe if I could lie down. She pointed me to a pallet on the dirt floor behind a screen and using my sandals as a cushion, I rested, then slept. It seemed as if I no sooner closed my eyes, I was opening them to view a different world.

It was a fairytale world. I was in the portico of a huge stone castle, turrets, and all. Two men, in armor, holding spears upright were on each side of a large door leading to the main hall, the throne room. I smiled at the men-at-arms and walked on in. The throne was occupied by a funny looking little man dressed in a jester’s outfit. He was holding a scepter and looking more than a little forlorn.  I walked across the hall to reach his throne and was about to say something when a low whistle came from above the throne. A tall man was waving at me and seemed to be waving me on and urging me to not speak. As he was on a balcony, I couldn’t see him clearly, but I got the message. He had been pointing to the left, so I headed that way and soon found a hallway behind a curtain. I took it, and the stairs that led to it, and when I reach the top, the tall guy, with his finger over his lips, shook my hand and led me onto the balcony. He directed my attention to another balcony on the other side of the throne room where there was a movie camera and operator, They were filming the little man on the throne. He, the actor, I presumed, looked up from his reveries and with a yell, threw the scepter across the room. “I won’t do it!” he screamed and ran into the middle of the room where he produced a sword and threw himself on it, an apparent suicide. I was shocked and horrified. The tall man next to me shouted, “Cut!” Okay Harold, you nailed it. I think this is a keeper. Harold got up from his death agonies, wiped himself off, and waving at us, left the room.

“We’ve been rehearsing that damn scene for two days. Thanks for giving us a hand, you were just what he needed to get motivated. He will want to meet you and thank you himself. Would you be willing to receive his thanks?”

“Sure.” I replied, without a single idea of what that might mean, other than shaking his hand. Turned out, it meant a lot.

“Ah, Princess. I want to thank you. You have saved my regency, and perhaps the kingdom as well. Excuse me,  I have to get ready for out big scene.” and he turned and left.

The tall man took my arm and said, “I would really suggest a little make up, you will be much closer to the cameras in this next scene.” and two heavyset matrons came out from the wings, and taking me by the arms, led me off to a small room where I was, without so much as a by-your-leave stripped naked, made up head to toe, given a garland of flowers and a girdle which was a heavy as solid gold. I think it might have been as it was also encrusted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. They led me back to the throne room. The cast was much larger this time, Harold was there. Also many more men-at-arms, ladies in waiting, and councilor types, in various robes and headgear. I heard the tall guy shout Ready from the balcony and everyone moved to take their places. I had no idea what I was to do, but I didn’t need coaching, as I was suddenly grabbed by two of the soldier types and taken before the throne. Harold boomed out with “,So you reject me, do you! For that I will……”and I interrupted, loudly, over the startled director and cameramen. “No, whatever makes you think that. I won’t reject you. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re expressive, and I’ll be you are great in bed! Why would I reject you? Let’s play” and I started to do a sensual strip tease. Everyone on the set went quiet. A musician who was paying attention, started playing the overture to Scheherazade. The courtesans, all veteran actors apparently, began to set up a waltz and conversations. Harold, mouth open, almost drooling, just stared. After getting down to the last layer, I moved up to the throne and I sat on his lap. Poor man had never experienced anything like me before. He went right into apoplexy and the director shouted “Cut”. “My movie is ruined!” He cried over the twitching prostrate figure of his lead character. He looked at me, said “Honey, I don’t know who you are, but if you ever get to Hollywood, look me up. You have power!” then turned away.

I awoke in the bed I shared with Stan and N’sonowa. They were in a coital way and I turned towards them, “Hey, Hey, I’m here too. Can I play?


critiques welcome. Dr. Robert

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s