Chapter 19
Secret
I decide I might as well chalk off a whole week of vacation time. I feel I have to do something for myself today, and just run from all the madness. I need to do something relaxing, and not just meditation—something splurge-worthy. A spa day! Only problem is that a whole day at the spa is not for doing alone. Amber is already at work, for sure. I know one other person I’d love to have join me.
“I have a plan, and you cannot say no to it today,” I say to my mom over the phone. I’m lucky to have some gift certificates I’ve not had time to use, because my mom never lets me pay for anything, despite her low supply of cash. “How does a luxuriously relaxing day at Spa de Serenite sound?”
She doesn’t even hesitate before she replies: “Let’s meet there at noon. You’ll want to call ahead of time and make sure they have two openings. Love you. Bye.”
I’m left sitting with the phone to my ear and cannot believe she agreed so easily. Mom doesn’t usually do spas.
Wow, this day might end up being good.
The phone rings while it’s still in my hand, and I’m convinced it’s her changing her mind already.
I push the talk button. “Don’t tell me no now, because there’s no excuse.”
“My, my, Conner must be playing hard to get.”
“Shut up, Amber,” I retort
.
“No need to be rude,” responds
Amber. “I was actually calling to tell you about last night.”
“Yeah? Some new sexual position you want to enlighten me with?”
“Umm, no, actually,” she says. “After we left the restaurant and got to my place, Russell and I got out of the car and starting walking to the door when two guys tried mugging us. I used the pepper spray on both of them! Can you believe that? Little ol’ me! Russell tied them both up with a neighbor’s dog cable while I called nine-one-one. The cops came and took them away. I might be on TV, we’ll see. See what happens when you fight back?” There’s a long pause. “Sorry, Kailey. I just meant that women aren’t as weak as some men try to make them feel. I didn’t exactly mean anything about what happened to you.”
My knowledge of her past relationships keeps me from being offende
d. “Karma keeps me going,” I tell her. “You know it all comes back in the end.”
Under her breath, I hear, “Let
’s hope not.”
I really don
’t understand her, but what else is new? “Talk to you later, Amber.”
“
Adios
.”
The thought that maybe this karma thing I do is good keeps swimming in my head. She offered her protection, and I, in turn, provided it to her. If my abilities can do good things like this for Amber, I think I’ll keep them.
I call the spa, and they have two spaces—thank goodness. Just as I hang up, my phone rings again. I don’t recognize the number, so I just let it ring, and if they want, they can leave me a message. My thoughts return to my mom and how she must be so tired.
I call my voicemail, and the voice that I hear is so sorrowful, yet seductive—a dangerous combination. It’s Conner. Amber must have given him my number, since it’s unlisted. He again apologizes and I think about how long I’ll let it go on. I
do
like him. I have to admit, I may have overreacted to an innocent gesture.
He leaves his number, and I write it down, thinking about when I should return the call. Maybe I will tomorrow. I
’m spending today with my mom, and that’s a good enough excuse not to call now.
After getting myself lazily dressed and dragging myself to Spa de Serenite by bus, I patiently await my mom’s arrival. Finally, she pulls up, and I watch her from inside as she gets out of her car. It always takes her a long time to get out, and I wince as I see
her
wincing. It’s sad seeing someone you love hurting, even if you don’t understand their pain.
She finally makes it in, and her beautiful smile lights up the room. That’s my mom. I stare at her and see she actually wore a short-sleeve shirt, revealing all her “Frankenstein” scars, as I call them, from dialysis and numerous surgeries. She is so strong, because there is no way I’d ever knowingly show those scars. After my attack, I hid mine the best I could.
“I’m ready for some pampering,” she tells the girl at the counter. She then speaks quietly, and from her body language, I can tell she’s trying to prepay with some cash. But I bested her this time. Ha!
She walks toward me with her pissed-off face, and I start laughing. “What’s wrong, Mom?” I give her my “genuinely concerned” face. The punch in the arm she gives me in return is definitely going to leave a purple splotch. “Don’t do that again,” I say. “You may break your hand or something.” I rub my arm when she’s not paying attention.
We take our time changing into fluffy, white terry cloth robes, sipping on mango nectar, and eating apple slices with imported honey and manchego cheese. Ah, the life.
First, we get to do the sauna. You need to open up the pores to let all the good stuff in. We talk little. I only ask her my usual questions about how she’s feeling and how her kidneys are doing. I know that, after her transplant four years ago, her body can reject the new kidney at any time in her life, and we could end up back at square one. She gives me her us
ual, “I’m fine, stop worrying.”
She also asks if Amber is doing all right, and I tell her, “That girl is messed up,” which gets a snicker out of her.
Saunas are absolutely wonderful, until you get to the point where you start sweating so bad you feel you might faint. So I’m glad when the sauna is done, after which we are ushered to steel tables covered with towels. I sneak a peek at my mom, who looks horrified. Her eyes are glued to something directly above the tables, and the object hanging could indeed pass for an ancient torture device of some sort. But actually, it’s a water dispenser, about the length of the average woman with hundreds of tiny holes. We are now to be scrubbed with a pumpkin exfoliant sugar scrub, then rinsed with the torture device.
Afterwards, we are given more fluids and another fancy-schmancy snack before our hot-stone massages. My mom and I sigh at the same time.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mom?” I ask.
“I’m a little raw right now from that scrub, but I think I’ll be okay,” she says. “Was that sandpaper they used? Maybe four-hundred grit?” My rolling eyes seem to satisfy her. There’s so much I need to say to her right now, but I know that I cannot start a crazy conversation like that in a spa. I’ll wait until dinner.
They call us into two separate rooms, and I wave goodbye to her as she leaves for her pedicure. She flashes me our special sign as she disappears around the corner. The only light in my room is from the small candles placed strategically in two corners. The smell of lavender relaxes me, and I pick the mandarin orange oil for the massage.
My masseuse glides over my back with her magic fingers, and I cannot believe how heavenly it feels—so much, in fact, that I start to doze off. I fight it to the best of my
abilities, but it’s a losing battle.
*********
I awake to the sound of voices.
“I really hope you have some brilliant plan to stop them. They
’re becoming more than just nuisances.” This voice is unfamiliar to me.
The closet I suddenly realize I am in is barely big enough for me to stand up in, and it stinks like compost. There are odd-looking metal and wooden objects strewn across the floor and I try to avoid stepping on them as I brace myself, trying to keep steady as to not move anything. I peek through the wooden doors
, seeing only a seated individual’s back to me, as I hold my towel up around me, asking myself how I ended up here.
Did that greble bring me? Did I travel here myself? No.
I couldn’t have.
I’ve never been here before.
“Oh, you wait and see. I have plenty up my sleeve, Tartarin. Don’t yo
u worry your pretty little self,” states a male voice. I try to convince myself that maybe I am dreaming, but know from the evil feelings emanating from those speaking I am indeed, not.
Relax, Kailey—just breathe deeply and relax before you get yourself killed,
I think,
most likely by something painful.
As I stand, balancing, the most horrible feeling of hatred and loathing hits me like a cannonball to the chest. I stagger a bit, and hold my breath as I nudge something that clinks near my feet. My head feels as though it might implode from the powerful vibrations that are firing off the individual seated
outside the closet, repeatedly battering me. His energy is repulsive and I try wiping my skin, not wanting it to linger near my own. I try to shield myself, but it’s as though
his
energy wants to devour
mine
.
“The armies are formed. Do you have your informant ready to strike?” The one named Tartarin is talking, but I can barely see him through the slit in the door. He sounds large
.
“Don’t worry about my informant. This will only work at the right moment, so do not rush things. If you do, you will regret it. We must cover much ground before,” he says, then hesitates, “the releasing. Be patient, my friend. Everything must be in place.”
“I will obey. After all, you are Devoten.” I sense Tartarin leave.
This is where my bladder slightly gives in, and I can feel the wetness escaping. I feel no shame as I peek around the door behind Devoten’s back. He is hunched over the table and seems downtrodden, his shoulders slumped. Slowly he turns toward the closet door, and I see a glimpse of his face and the blood-red tear streaming down it as his energy makes one final lunge at me.
*********
I am yanked back into my own reality by my mom shaking my shoulders. The masseuse is back in the corner of the room, staring at me like I
’ve grown horns.
“Kailey! Kailey!”
“Stop already. You’re gonna give me shaken baby syndrome or something,” I say. I sit up on my own and realize my naked breasts are exposed to the world, so I cover myself up and discreetly wipe the pee off my leg.
My mom turns to the masseuse. “I’m sorry, hon,” she says. “She sometimes has fits. It’s a medical condition.” My mom is trying to reassure her that everything is fine. This must be bad.
“Whatever,” stammers the masseuse, “but I know she disintegrated or something, because my hands just went right through her!” The poor girl looks like she may fall over the fence into hysterics. I grab my purse and pull out my smartphone and dial Gunthreon, but he doesn’t answer. I then dial the numbers that I conveniently remember—must be the accountant in me—calling me this morning.
“I need your help. Do you know Spa de Serenite?” He agrees to rush over immediately.
My mom’s energy churns in a way that I know she’s inwardly questioning what the hell just happened, but she keeps all comments to herself. I tell her to console the girl as we wait for someone who can help. Conner arrives, and all the women fawn over him as he blushes, then spots me across the room in my robe. He smiles a crooked smile at me, forcing me to tighten my robe a bit. The manager allows me to escort him back to my massage room after a whisper in her ear assures her that he’s no threat. Conner chats quietly with my masseuse, and she looks a bit calmer.
“I hope you
enjoyed your massage,” she comments as she eyes us questioningly before leaving the room.
“She’ll be fine. I told her that ignoring what just happened would be in her best interest,” Conner whispers. “Did you enjoy the massage?”
His soulspeak accent is thick in his words, sexy. He stares at me
and
my robe, which seems to have loosened up a bit.
“Yeah, it w
as nice,” I reply as my heart threatens to crawl up my throat. Suddenly, I remember my mom is standing here, too. My cheeks redden, and it doesn’t take long for her to furrow her brow. My mom and Conner exchange glances, and I see a small bow from Conner toward my mom.
My mom bows slightly toward Conner. “Soulspeak. Wow, I haven’t heard that in years,” she says. And with that, she leaves the room, heading back toward her locker. “Kailey,” I hear, “
Can you please meet me in the bathroom?”
“Yes Mom, be r
ight there,” I say, loud enough for her to hear me down the hall. I turn to Conner and sigh. “I really appreciate what you did for me and everything, but I have to leave,” I say. “I have a lot to discuss with my mom right now.”
“You do know you
’ll have to explain this to me, right? I’m at least owed that.” His eyes are intense, and he seems too close to me, especially in my nakedness—underneath the robe and all.
“I
’ll call you tonight. Is that okay?” I don’t make eye contact with him, instead pretending I am way too interested in my pedicure—anything to break the connection he’s trying to make with those eyes of his.
“Okay. Go get dressed,” he says. I leave quickly, grabbing my clothes and making sure my robe is fully wrapped around me.
I find my mom in a bathroom stall, throwing up her fancy-schmancy snacks. The sound weakens me, and I start crying.