Rhi comes to town
So I’m walkin’, through the ‘town, that part where I shop mah secrets, house ‘em, eat them. Not mine. Folks get confused by that sometimes. I eat other people’s secrets, not my own. Though I suppose they become a part of me as I digest them.
Anyway, Klava catches my arm, and we walked linked like that, way girlier than she’s normally down for, but we’re having fun, smiling and laughing. We duck into an alleyway and make out for a minute.
I stop, smile.
She smiles back.
I reach my hand into her pants, and she touches it, strong, says, “I’m sorry, love. I can’t.”
“I’m enflamed right now.”
I pull my hand back, the Black Book activated under my skin. I could feel blisters boiling up on my fingers, on my nose and lips.
“Sorry,” she says with a smile and a shrug. “We could snog some more, if ya like. That was quite nice, actually.”
I want to, but the Book commands me to wash. I resist it, remind myself I destroyed it, and that the ink of its pages live in me no more. But it still speaks to me through its wiggling way.
Then, the alley gives way to Rhi.
Klava pulls me gently to her side, a keen eye on the new gal, walking tall and small in fur boots, camo jack rockin’, eyelashes poppin’, wry smile and a guy-style haircut, pants baggy.
But when I look at her, I see the dead smiling back at me.
“You can see her?” I whisper to Klava.
She looks at me. “Have you gone daft? Or are ya just fucking with me? It’s unkind to fuck with one who’s got the creepin’ shingles, you know.” She smiles wide again, leans over and kisses me.
I want to kiss her well, so I do my best. My feeling of love and the desire to show her physically returns, though the Book scratches in my ears, making them itch, and paws at my genitals, making them feel irritated and enflamed.
Rhi turns around, goes, “Y’all know where Café Tredici is?”
Klava kisses my ear, ignores her, nibbles my neck, making my blood hot.
I smile composed as I can at Rhi, go, “Yeah, it’s right down the walk there. On the right.”
“Thanks,” she goes.
“I’m Tee, by the way,” I say.
“Rhi,” she says, waves, and walks toward Tredici.
I look at Klava, find her large, deadly eyes looking at me.
“What?” I go.
“You want to fuck her, don’t you?”
“C’mon, Klava,” I say. “Chill.”
“Okay. But you do.”
“I want to fuck everyone. You know that. I like too many people and want to share that with them. It’s a problem.” I pull a smoke and lighter.
“Yet here I am, the one with herpes.”
I grimace, flick the lighter with no success, then go, “I didn’t say it was a fair problem.”