Blue with Black Dots (The Caprice Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

              “Why?” asked Bryan.

              “I’m fine with everyone here the way I know them,” said Diane, “You could be some sort of demon baby, in and out of juvie, and I’d say that you all turned out alright.”

              “I’ll bet Gigi was a demon baby,” said Patrick, “Weren’t you.”  Georgia pointed both her index fingers and razed them to her temples to resemble horns.

              “Beelzebub has a devil set aside for me,” said Georgia.

              “For me,” said Tanis.

              “For me,” said Yvette.  Alan put down his second cup of
J&B Coke
to play air guitar while sounding out the chorus to
Bohemian Rhapsody
.  Patrick and Bryan joined in.  The girls laughed at the boys as they played air guitar.  Hagan just watched.

              “Hagan,” said Diane, “You don’t play air guitar.”

              “Leave him alone,” said Tanis, “He’s just a poor boy and nobody loves him.”  Georgia started laughing.  She started the
Queen
reference in the first place.

              “I actually don’t know the song,” said Hagan.

              “What?” said Tanis, “You been livin’ under a rock or what?”

              “No,” said Hagan, “I’ve been in training with you all.”

              “Yeah but that song came out, what?  Two years ago?” said Tanis.

              “Last year,” said Georgia.

              “It’s been so popular for so long it’s hard to tell,” said Tanis.

              “It is,” said Georgia.  Yvette took the liberty of starting from the beginning of the song.  The song was known by everyone in the group.  Even Hagan, who claimed not to know the song, knew a few lines.  The atmosphere took a more cohesive but less structured color.  Tanis moved around the corner of the bed to face Patrick who was sitting on the boys’ bed and Alan who was sitting on a chair in the corner.  Hagan pulled a second chair to sit in front of the dresser, while Bryan sat on the dresser itself.  The Peers continued to drink and share each other’s company.  They drank till their paper cups turned soggy.  They replaced the soggy cups with fresh ones and continued drinking.  They shared stories about their training, not about common experiences but different ones.  They all fell on the conclusion that the individual exercises were tailored to fit their individual assignments, although they committed no intelligence breaches.  They said nothing about their individual assignments.  Perhaps it was their training at work but the alcohol made them more talkative only about non-censored topics.  They revealed nothing they weren’t supposed to.  Perhaps it was one of the Director’s training exercises.  Even though
Project Full House
was a preliminary program, Director Witt wouldn’t be worthy of his position if he didn’t guess his selected group would celebrate their graduation.  They did.  But a noticeable change came in the middle.  There was a subtle decline in their celebration, marked by Twilight. 

Chapter Three    Marked by Twilight

It was the same with all human celebrations.  They talked.  They didn’t sit looking at the clock.  But they could feel the time passing.  It wasn’t just the effect of the alcohol.  Their energies began to wear, even though they were all young.  At sometime after midnight, Diane asked for the key to the next room.  Bryan had the key in his pocket.

              “You going to bed?” asked Bryan.

              “Something like that,” said Diane, “Dear husband, won’t you come and tuck me in.”  Patrick took time to realize
husband
meant him.  He finished his last few sips of his
Olympia
beer and followed Diane out the door. 

              Yvette was now resting on Georgia’s lap, trying not to sleep.  Tanis sat against the bed with her arms folded around her knees, tucking her head between her knees.  At first, she wasn’t asleep; she just kept her eyes closed as she listened.  Tanis, always full of industry, burned a lot of energy like the factory she was.  But she was spent.  She fell asleep.  Her snoring made it obvious.  Georgia had the key to the third room, the girls’ room.  Georgia patted Yvette’s head and stroked her hair. 

              “Time to get some sleep, Honey Bun,” said Georgia.  Yvette’s eyes opened.

              “Ok,” said Yvette.  Yvette sat up under her own steam and stood up.  She helped Georgia to her feet and Georgia lied down on the bed, bringing her head within inches of Tanis’.  She whispered into Tanis’ ear.  Tanis slowly raised her head. 

              “Now?” said Tanis.

              “Yeah,” said Georgia, “We’ve gotta be ready for appointments tomorrow.”

              “Yeah,” said Tanis, “I guess the Soviets aren’t gonna wait for us.”

              “No they won’t,” said Georgia.  Georgia helped Tanis to her feet then moved toward Bryan and gave him a hug.  Hagan stood up and hugged Georgia while Alan waited his turn.  While Alan hugged Georgia, Yvette and Tanis followed behind Georgia hugging Bryan, Hagan and Alan.  The girls said their goodbyes.  So did the boys.  They let a mutual wish hang in the air, that they would see each other again. 

              The girls walked to their room down the hall.  Unlike the room the boys were sleeping in, their room was undisturbed.  Their room was a twin.  Tanis had one bed to herself and Yvette and Georgia shared the other.

              “Drink some water before you go to bed ladies,” said Tanis, “Avoid the hang over.”

              “Good call,” said Yvette.  All drinks were down the hall in the boys’ room.  The girls drank from the tap.  They brushed their teeth together in a silent ritual.  It was instinct.  They had different assignments in different places but they had the next few hours together.  And that was how they saw it.  Even with the lights turned out they talked in the dark for an extra hour.  It was one less hour of sleep.  That didn’t mean it wasn’t well spent. 

              The morning wasn’t tearful.  Everyone was too dehydrated for tears.  Georgia was up before the rest.  She drank less, much less.  She didn’t experience the subtle then solid aftershock of having drunk too much the night before.  Her head felt a little unstable because of lack of sleep.  Yvette was still motionless except for the up and down of her near silent breathing.  Georgia tapped her shoulder gently at first.  Georgia tapped harder until Yvette stirred.

              “Coffee?” said Georgia.

              “Yeah,” said Yvette.  Georgia went to the other bed and kneeled next to the bed where Tanis was sleeping. 

              “Tan,” said Georgia, “Coffee?”  Georgia waited. 

              “Coffee,” said Tanis, “Ok.”  Georgia left Tanis and Yvette who were still lying under covers.  She made her way out the door as quietly as she could and walked all the way to the front of the row of motel rooms.  The office was just around the corner and the door was open.  There was a late middle-aged woman behind the desk.

              “Good morning,” said the woman, “How did you sleep?”

“That’s a good question,” said Georgia, “When I know, you’ll know.”  The woman laughed. 

              “Is it ok if I take some coffee back to my friends?” said Georgia.

              “Of course,” said the woman, “The early bird gets the coffee here in Hertford.”  Georgia laughed.  The coffee was on the bottom burner and there were Styrofoam cups on the left.  Georgia filled three cups before stuffing cream and sugar packets in her pocket.

              “Are there any lids?” asked Georgia.

              “I’ll get you some,” said the woman.  She walked from around the front desk and unlocked a far door on the end of the small office.  She reached inside and pulled out a large plastic bag.  She took a handful of plastic lids from the bag and shut the door.  She walked toward Georgia and put the lids down next to the coffeemaker.

              “As many as you need,” said the woman.

              “Thank you,” said Georgia.  The woman saw Georgia trying to handle three cups of hot coffee.

              “Can I offer you a hand?” asked the woman.

              “I can manage,” said Georgia.

              “Now that coffee’s hot,” said the woman, “Let me help.  It’ll keep you from burning yourself.”

              “Thank you,” said Georgia.  The woman handled one cup while Georgia palmed the other two.

              They walked the length of the motel, passed the boys’ room; passed the private room, Diane and Patrick’s room.

              “Where ya from?” asked the woman. 

              “Virginia,” said Georgia.  She felt connected to the question.  It was the last question from a stranger that she didn’t have to worry about answering.  It was the thing that made the suburban life with the white picket fence so desirable.  The simple truths were no worry.  Georgia felt like a snake shedding skin.  She was days away from being reintroduced to the world with different skin.

              “My husband was from Virginia,” said the woman.

              “You don’t say,” said Georgia, “Can you hold this cup while I grab the key?”

              “Sure thing,” said the woman.  Georgia fished in her pocket for her room key.  She unlocked the door and set one coffee down while holding the door with her foot.  The woman held the two coffees in silence.  Georgia turned to her and smiled, grabbing the two coffees from her hand.

              “Thanks,” said Georgia.

              “Any time,” said the woman.  Georgia looked at the woman then over the woman’s shoulder, realizing for the first time it was an overcast day.  Georgia felt a certain loss when the door closed behind her.  She counted it as perhaps her last interaction with a stranger on her own terms.  Within days she would be playing a role, trying to collect as many details as her eyes could catch and mind could record.  But for the moment her mind could rest.  There was a certain accord of being in a room with like creatures.  It reminded her of a zoo—same species, same cage.  Like most species, they had more than one name.  One was
Femme Fatale
.  Another was
Honey Trap
, all young, all attractive and trained to trap.

              Only Georgia was awake.  She sipped coffee and swallowed thoughts while trying not to make much noise.  Yvette stirred in her bed, seemingly smelling the coffee.

              “You’re taking yours black,” said Yvette.  Georgia smiled.

              “Like always,” said Georgia, “I got cream and sugar here for you.  You want it now?”

              “Sure,” said Yvette, “It’ll get cold.  Plus I shouldn’t sleep anymore.  I want to but I won’t.  What time is it?”

              “8:28,” said Georgia.

              “Good enough,” said Yvette.

              “You hungover?” asked Georgia.

              “No,” said Yvette, “Not really.  I was keeping up with you.  You didn’t have much at all.”

              “That was the plan,” said Georgia.

              “You’re so strategic,” said Yvette.  Georgia smiled.  Yvette got out of bed wearing her shirtdress but the jeans she had on from the night before were missing.  Yvette walked to the end of the bed and sat down.  Georgia handed her a coffee.  The creams and sugars were still in her pocket.  She stood up and pulled the contents of her pocket out in her hand.  She slapped Yvette five and left a pile of creams and sugars in her hand.

              “Thanks, Gigi,” said Yvette.  Yvette put an unusually large amount of cream and sugar in her coffee.

              “No stir stick?” said Yvette.

              “Sorry Babe,” said Georgia, “Forgot.”  Yvette smiled.

              “What are you thinking?” asked Yvette.

              “The coffee?” said Georgia.

              “Yes,” said Yvette, “The coffee.  Do you think it’s gourmet?”  Georgia laughed with Yvette.

              “What am I thinking?” said Georgia, “What am I thinking?  I’m thinking this is what they mean when they say
such is life
.”

              “What do you mean?” asked Yvette.

              “I mean just what I said,” said Georgia, “We’re on the board now.  No more dress rehearsals.”

              “Are you scared?” asked Yvette.

              “Butterflies,” said Georgia.

              “Butterfingers,” said Yvette waving her fingers in the air.  Georgia smiled.

              “You’re a hundred times more competent than me at anything,” said Yvette, “I’d rather be you going into the field than me.”

              “Wait until briefing before you say that,” said Georgia, “You know where you’re going but you don’t know the details yet.”

              “You’re probably going to some tropical beach.  Some where you can bathe in a bikini,” said Yvette.

              “Why would they send me to a warm place in a cold war?” asked Georgia.

              “Because they know you look good in a bikini,” said Yvette.

              “They’ve never seen me in a bikini,” said Georgia, “I hope.”

              “They probably have,” said Yvette, “They’ve probably seen us all in the buff.  I wouldn’t put it passed Director Witt to have spy cameras in our quarters.”

              “Neither would I,” said Georgia.

              “When I think about it,” said Yvette, “Where are you gonna collect the most intel?  In some embassy in Warsaw where it’s a gnarly twenty-seven degrees in winter and you’re all bundled up with your wool scarf and stockings and looking like everyone else.  Or coming out of the water like Ursula Andress on Swakopmund Beach, where at the same time of year it’s about seventy-five degrees.  And South African dignitaries and military commanders who go there on holiday are very likely to spot you and invite you back to their
wohnsitz
for a drink.”

              “Only if his name is Bond, James Bond,” said Georgia, “But I’d be about five or six hundred miles from the Angolan border where they are currently fighting a war.”

              “That’s my point,” said Yvette, “The Soviets have a hand in that war, which makes us interested.  The South Africans are there so why not know what they know.  It’s on their own border.  Or do you want to assume that the South Africans will tell us everything they know?”

              “With the criticism our government gives theirs over Apartheid, I wouldn’t assume anything,” said Georgia.