I smelled coconut. I was on a lot of pills because almost everything on my body hurt. I took a pummeling but despite the pain, which there was a lot of, it’s the parts that didn’t hurt that worried me the most. The pain I understood, but it’s a different story when something goes numb. I took the pills Arnie had at the afterparty. I didn’t know what they were but after a while I didn’t feel much anymore, anywhere. I didn’t even feel the Latina broad on top of me who somehow managed to give me an erection, which told me I must have found her attractive before my vision transformed into striations of blurred colour and my ears filled with the bass of the nearby party. Her skin smelled of coconut lotion.
I fought two fights that night and was still undefeated, however, it is safe to say the last fight was a draw. I knocked him down, but he hit me harder and better. I was able to find a brief moment of weakness and I made good on it. It was obvious though that he was another trained fighter. It would appear that Arnie was finding a better crop of competitors. This one tried to mask his technique with that of a street thrower, but once a man gets tired he loses his control, and his real training shines through, or at least I figured that’s almost always the case.
This guy fought with a calculating style and his footwork was too good. Street fighters have bad footwork but they make up for it with ferocity. I analyzed the fighter carefully. I visualized the ring and how he moved. The fighter came towards me and let loose a massive roundhouse that streaked towards my face. It was unstoppable.
I opened my eyes and at the foot of my bed, Maneki was sitting upright, looking at me. It was morning and the Latina was nowhere to be found. Had she ever really been there?
“How did you sleep?”
I frowned at him and said nothing.
“Don’t be like that. I’m just here to check on you.”
“I doubt that.”
“Sadly, you’re correct.”
“Figured.”
“Something’s happening. There’s a change and I’ve noticed Shrikun…”
“I’m not in the mood for any of this right now.”
“I see. Well, William, you can’t always get what you want.”
The tabby tilted his head slightly to the left and I looked in the same direction. Danika was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. She had a queer look on her face.
“Do you always talk to the cat like that?”
“What?” My mouth remained wide open.
“Talk like that, to the orange tabby cat.”
“What cat?”
She sighed. “You don’t fool me. The orange tabby that just strolled out of the room; do you always chit chat with him like you just did?”
I took a moment to collect myself. I was finding it hard to contain the impact of what she was saying. She continued on without an answer from me.
“He’s my friend, too. Sometimes he sees me to sleep at night.”
Suddenly the boat shook powerfully and we started to move. I looked back at Danika, who was stroking her hair in a childlike manner.
“Tell me something, Danika.”
She looked up at me like I was going to say something more. “Like what? A story?”
I sat up in bed and pointed carelessly at the half-full water bottle on the night table. She handed it to me. I took a swig and wiped my mouth. “I mean, tell me anything at all. A story works. Just nothing with fairies, okay?”
She made a face at me then she fidgeted nervously in her chair. “I have a story for you.”
I nodded and took another drink of water. I was so damn parched from the night before.
“Have you ever heard of a town called Sobinov?”
I shook my head.
“No one has really, but that is where I come from. It is in the Czech Republic. It is a very small place and one of great beauty. My parents own a farm there—pigs, cows. I have two brothers and an older sister. She is married and has two children of her own. I remember we used to have the most beautiful picnics in the fall. There was a quarry and a river we all used to swim in and then eat on the shore. My mother made Pavlova. Have you ever had this?”
I shook my head.
“It is wonderful.” She stopped talking and looked down at the floor. When she continued speaking, her eyes remained lowered.
“I had a friend who was few years older than I. She was going with her parents to Paris for a week. They were flying from Prague. She asked if I wanted to come with her for the weekend to Prague and we could go dancing. I had never been to Prague either. I had never been out of Sobinov. Papa and I fought over it. I said some very nasty things and he gave in to me.”
She looked back up at me.
“In Prague, my friend and I waited for her parents to fall asleep and then we snuck out into the night. We were turned away from three nightclubs before we managed to plead our way into the fourth. We danced all night and then my friend went to the bathroom and we lost each other. I looked everywhere and then a man offered to help me. I was so distraught and he was so nice and calm. He offered me a glass of water from the bar. I drank it. The next thing I remember, I was in a dark room with muffled voices.”
I sat up. I hadn’t realized I was listening so intently.
“Then a door opened and the room flooded with so much light that I could not see anything. I felt a prick in my arm and then I remember nothing more. When I woke again, I was in a boat container with twenty other girls. Some were very sick. We had very little water and food. The rest I am sure you know.”
“No fairies,” I said grimly.
“No, no fairies.”
I finished my water and pulled the covers off me. I sat on the side of the bed.
“Should we have a little breakfast?”
She nodded and pulled her chair to the small table and joined me.